“It won’t be. No need to worry yourself about it. I’ll settle the details with the Sheriff. Is that it? I am late for my appointment with him as it is.”

“Heaven forbid. We’ll send a third tax collector to Locksley soon, you’ll see to it that there are no more stories to exaggerate?” He did not wait for a response. He returned his attention to the men practicing in the yard, wishing time might be merciful and pass the remaining hours of the day quickly. But the words perceived debts flitted about Guy’s mind, seeing what damage they could do. In their latest meeting, Sheriff de Lacy had suggested Guy might conscript debtors before they were actually behind bars, which was admittedly a better plan than what was happening now. Not foolproof, but a leap beyond putting traitors in the uniform.

As he watched, Guy noticed a thick recruit—whose name he could not remember—bend down to claim the wooden stick another man had been using as a sword. He gave the new stick a few swings, seemed to like it better, and dropped his own thinner stick in its place.

“Lady Marion!” Guy called out, and turned to see they had not yet left earshot. They were paused at the gatehouse up to the highest bailey, where Guy shortly joined them. “One more thing. I don’t suppose you’ve heard stories of a caravan of war supplies that recently went missing in the Sherwood?”

“I have not,” she squinted. “But the Sherwood is a big place.”

“Oh, indeed, plenty of places to hide within. I mean no accusation,” he lied, “but it seems your friend the hermit lord, if he finds himself with these insurmountable tax problems, might be prone to … desperate acts?”

“Lord Walter has more than enough coin to pay what is owed,” she answered curtly, “provided that number is accurate. Which is, again, the reason for my visit.”

“Of course, your ladyship.”

Guy smiled and let them leave. Whatever Lady Marion intended by entangling herself with the hermit lord, it was likely to nobody’s gain but her own. Walter of Locksley had once been a good man, but it was not difficult to imagine how the recluse of his recent years could turn him disappointing. But if a castle full of debtors lay within half a day’s ride, this week might prove productive after all.

DINNER PROMISED MORE THAN the average night’s entertainment. With any luck, Arable would identify at least one of the ungrateful gerolds by face, and it might be all the ammunition Guy needed to put an end to de Lacy’s abhorrent policy.