Chapters (76)
- Title Page
- Copyright Notice
- Dedication
- PROLOGUE
- PART I
- ONE
- TWO
- THREE
- FOUR
- FIVE
- SIX
- SEVEN
- EIGHT
- NINE
- PART II
- TEN
- ELEVEN
- TWELVE
- THIRTEEN
- FOURTEEN
- FIFTEEN
- SIXTEEN
- SEVENTEEN
- EIGHTEEN
- NINETEEN
- PART III
- TWENTY
- TWENTY-ONE
- TWENTY-TWO
- TWENTY-THREE
- TWENTY-FOUR
- TWENTY-FIVE
- TWENTY-SIX
- INTERLUDE
- PART IV
- TWENTY-SEVEN
- TWENTY-EIGHT
- TWENTY-NINE
- THIRTY
- THIRTY-ONE
- THIRTY-TWO
- THIRTY-THREE
- THIRTY-FOUR
- INTERLUDE
- PART V
- THIRTY-FIVE
- THIRTY-SIX
- THIRTY-SEVEN
- THIRTY-EIGHT
- PART VI
- THIRTY-NINE
- FORTY
- FORTY-ONE
- FORTY-TWO
- FORTY-THREE
- FORTY-FOUR
- FORTY-FIVE
- INTERLUDE
- PART VII
- FORTY-SIX
- FORTY-SEVEN
- FORTY-EIGHT
- FORTY-NINE
- FIFTY
- FIFTY-ONE
- FIFTY-TWO
- PART VIII
- FIFTY-THREE
- FIFTY-FOUR
- FIFTY-FIVE
- FIFTY-SIX
- EPILOGUE
- AUTHOR’S NOTE
- ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
- ABOUT THE AUTHOR
- Newsletter Sign-up
Marshall nodded, but he was not at ease. “Sounds like the Devil.”
“Robin of Locksley is just a man, don’t glorify him. But it doesn’t have to be the actual Devil,” Guy sighed, “for it to be his work.”
THE NEXT MORNING, JUST outside of Godling, an old woman ran at them from the darkness at the side of the road, collapsing in the dirt before their horses. Her arms were mostly bone, her fingers twisted and pulled at each other as she lowered to her knees. What clothes she had were so rotten that a withered breast hung out in the open. Guy motioned for Marshall and Ferrers to halt, but kept his eyes open to the sides of the road. This was how the outlaws were known to steal from travelers, by distracting them with piteous displays and then springing their trap.
But the crone was too far gone in poverty to be a thief. “Thank God, thank God,” she screeched, to no God that deserved her thanks. She unbent her fingers with some difficulty and tried to raise a palm up to them. “There’s a toll here, you remember? You remember, yes, just a little bit more, just a little bit more.”
“Get out of the way, woman,” Marshall barked, pulling his mount almost on top of her, but Guy ordered him to stand back. Guy spied an equally emaciated boy—hidden within the overgrown bramble at the side of the road—crouching beside what could only be a dead hog, half opened and gutted.
“Just a little more, we only need a little more,” she moaned on.
“Did the last man who came through here give you a toll?” Guy asked her.
“You did, it was you!” she cried out.
It was an unsettling comparison. “When last you saw me, which direction did I go?”
She squeezed her face into an even more wrinkled mess and shook her head vigorously. “Neither way, you went through,” and she pointed into the dense wall of bare rowan behind her. The trees here extended their limbs low like claws, barren wild branches that made any passage impossible. Beyond them in the distance, columns of straight black trees gave the haunting image of an army at the ready. “Thorney, you said, you were going to Thorney next.”
Guy inhaled slowly. “I did at that, didn’t I?”
He tossed her a coin out of mercy. It bounced into the mud and only seemed to confuse her. There was no helping this one, nor her child. Whatever had scratched out her mind chilled Guy down to his bones.