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
“What’s your name?” Guy always started his speech the same way, enjoying his own impression of the armsmaster who first trained him. The world was likely full of impostors just copying their forebears, and hoping nobody noticed. The question wasn’t directed to anyone in particular, but a redheaded young man nervously answered.
“Dillon Fellows,” he said, only slightly faltering.
Guy knew the name. Not a gerold. “Are you ready to fight for the Nottingham Guard?”
“Yes, Captain.”
“What’s the Sheriff’s name?”
Dillon Fellows paused. “Captain?”
“No that’s me, you useless blodgett. What’s the Sheriff’s name?”
With all the certainty of an idiot and not even a touch of humility, the boy actually said, “The Sheriff of Nottingham.”
Guy let his jaw drop. “You’re ready to fight for him but you don’t know his name?”
“I’ll do whatever is asked of me, in his name.”
“His name is Ralph Murdac.”
“Ralph Murdac. Sorry, I did know that.”
“No you didn’t, because Ralph Murdac is dead. He died two years ago.” Some chuckles rippled through the men, who were mostly standing in what they incorrectly assumed was a stance of respect. Others leaned on their sticks, while a few had already plopped to the ground in fatigue. Guy tried to pinpoint the ones who didn’t laugh—the ones who weren’t enjoying themselves. He catalogued every suspicious reaction. “I don’t right blame Murdac for dying, I warrant that death was a preferable alternative to being guarded by the likes of you.”
“I’m sorry, Captain. I’m ready to fight.”
“You’re ready to—” Guy laughed out loud, and let it roll into a deep, hearty roar. “Dillon Fellows, I don’t even know where to start with the number of things wrong in that statement. You are many things, but ready to fight is not one of them. And who exactly is it that you think you’re being trained to fight?”
“The enemies of Nottingham?”
“And who the fuck are they?” Guy breathed down onto Dillon’s face. “You want to fight someone, we’ll ship you off to the Crusade, no problem at all. I’m sure King Richard could use a few more men to die off in the front lines, since all the other Dillon Fellows we’ve sent him have probably been used up by now.”