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
Locksley started talking again. It seemed to be his only skill. She was more than happy to let the man earn their respect, but so far he’d missed every opportunity. Elena had not known old Lord Walter of Locksley as long as the others, but she had grown to care for him. That fondness should have extended to his family, but she was beginning to suspect that the son was a thousand miles from the father in character. Admittedly, he was at a disadvantage, and it was Elena’s fault. When John gathered them around before bringing Locksley into their camp, she had been the one to suggest they keep quiet. “Don’t let on that we know who he is,” she’d said. “Nothing about Lord Walter.” Some of them still didn’t have that instinct, to realize that every bit of knowledge is power. Not just what you know, but what others think you don’t know.
So it was hard to see the man as anything other than a fleeting day’s worth of entertainment, no different than any other mark. But John Little urged for their compassion, and he had his reasons for most things. Elena forced herself to smile as Locksley continued, thinking he was regaling some random travelers who didn’t know him. He talked and talked, little memories about this spring or that cluster of woods, more frequently as they grew closer. Elena tried to find the man behind the bluster, but it was hard to hear the stories as words at all. All she heard was Locksley’s wheel groaning, closer and closer to its breaking point.
Some of the others, they couldn’t distinguish the son from the father. “If you’re better with a bow than a sword,” Alan crooned, “why did you leave the archers for the Royal Guard?”
“Well, my swordsmanship isn’t exactly poor.” The mare in front of Elena took the opportunity to release a hefty fistful of her shit, and Elena decided she’d call the horse Robin from now on. “But my skills as an archer would have been wasted if I’d stayed where I was. In a war, archers don’t need expert marksmanship, they just need to be part of the volley. Fifty men release and a cloud of arrows goes up in the air, and come down on the enemy like rain.”
“That’s a lot of arrows,” marveled Alan, throwing a smile toward Elena to include her in the amazement. She just stared at him. He should have been atop the cart, as he was best with the horses. Instead he lingered at Locksley’s side, a little girl in love.
“Can’t say we hear much about the war.” Arthur scratched at his beard. “Is it … uh … going well? You doing important things?”