William let his hair grow since they’d left Acre, already sporting the makings of a beard. But Robin continued to groom himself clean to best match Richard—partially out of habit, partially because he did not want to grow comfortable being away. For here he was amongst the yellow leaves of the Sherwood, his leg numb but healing, and the thought of dragging their mission out longer than necessary was no stranger to his mind. Perhaps Richard had sent William along for this very reason. Easy enough to lie to oneself and turn deserter when no one would know, but admitting as much to a brother was to own one’s cowardice.

They said goodbye to the Haligast at Plymouth, then spent a few days hopping short rides from dock to dock speaking with harbor masters and sailors, investigating the shipments that had passed through in the recent weeks. Eventually their search took them all the way up to Grimsby, a city whose name matched its pleasantness. According to the caravan captain there, the main supplies from Derbyshire, Leicestershire, Rutland, and others were first amassed in Nottingham before traveling by the Sherwood Road to Grimsby. And so Nottingham became their destination, and Robin found himself in the forest of the life he’d left behind.

“If this investigation takes us further west, perhaps my family could be of help,” William offered. His father was a distinguished lord in Derbyshire, quite close to Nottingham. The Sherwood played its role in William’s past as well, and under slightly different circumstances he and Robin could have been childhood playmates. “Have you thought about dropping in on your father?”

“I’ve no need to see him,” Robin answered.

Would I could strip you of your name and the titles you have gained from its use, I would not hesitate, his father had written, in his most recent letter. No, there was nothing to be gained at Locksley Castle.

“You and Richard,” William chided. “Fathers aren’t supposed to be your friend, you know. They’re supposed to turn you into a decent person. Which, at risk of paying you a compliment, you are. Does it ever occur to you that your father might have had a hand in that?”

“I’d say I ended up who I am in spite of my father, not because of him.”

“Either way,” William tilted an odd smile toward him, “you might want to thank him for it.”

“If you’re going to judge a man by how well his children turn out…” Robin started, but did not finish the thought. William did not know about the violence that Edmond succumbed to, and the world could never be improved by that tale. “Let’s just say if that were the case, my father should be in prison.”

“Ouch,” William reacted. “Now you sound just like Richard. Those are his words in your mouth there. Is that a familiar place for him to be putting things?”