The Greenwood Shadow Page 4

  She wasn't just upset anymore. Now she was upset and devastated. Was there any place she could go without being judged? Anywhere at all?

  With a sigh, she turned back to the castle. She'd have to face Emeric at some point. Maybe yelling at him would make her feel better.

  When he finally came around to her room, she curled up in the window again.

  "Don't try to lie to me."

  He stopped in the doorway and held his hands up defensively.

  "I am not lying. I did ask him to reconsider, but he was adamant. I imagine he wants his son married as soon as possible."

  "You asked him to reconsider? HA! What did you say? 'We'd love to accept, but your son surely deserves a higher ranked wife'?"

  "Well, more or less," Emeric mumbled.

  "Yeah, I thought so." She pulled her knees to her chest and turned her back to him. "You said you'd look after me. You said you would try your best to make sure I don't have to marry a buffoon."

  "You haven't even met him."

  "Well..." She hesitated. Actually she had. Sort of. It was enough for her, anyway, but she couldn't tell Emeric that. "Even so, can you imagine having Sir Robert for a father?"

  Emeric cleared his throat. "Better as your father than your husband."

  She glanced back over her shoulder. "How do you know little Robert isn't the same? How do you know they aren't just a whole family of gold-loving snobs? Let me guess. His mother is the daughter of a senior baron?"

  "Yes, actually, but she-"

  "Seriously?" She huffed loudly. "I guess I should have known."

  Again she looked away, pointedly picking at a red thread in her dress to avoid making eye contact with Emeric.

  "Evelyne, show some respect. Sir Robert has been nothing but generous to us, in a time when we most certainly need it."

  "We've always gotten along. We always make it."

  "Barely."

  She pointed dramatically at nothing. "But we always have."

  Emeric paused.

  "Well, yes. Somehow." He looked away from her, and went silent for a moment. Evey picked at the thread again.

  What was that?

  Something had definitely caught her eye. She scanned the courtyard, but nothing looked out of place. Nobody looked out of place either. Why did she feel like someone had been watching her? She rubbed her eyes and turned toward her uncle.

  "We've always done fine on our own. I don't want to get married. Not right now. And I certainly don't want to marry someone because I'm told I must."

  Emeric sighed deeply.

  "Evelyne, you have no dowry. Nothing but this old keep, and me. By title, you're a lady. In all reality, we're both peasants. We're stuck between worlds, and that leaves us in a very awkward position. If we turn down Sir Robert, you'll have less than nothing."

  Evey shrugged.

  "You can't be so nonchalant about this." He massaged the bridge of his nose. "I know how you feel. I do. Maybe a wedding should be about love, but it IS about money and status. That's the way things are. That's the way they always have been."

  Evey lowered her eyes, and tapped a rhythm with her thumbs.

  "Love comes in time." He touched her shoulder gently.

  She shrugged his hand away.

  "What would you know about love?"

  Emeric looked truly injured, and sat silently for a long time. Longer than even he usually did. Whatever Emeric had done, he didn't deserve what she had said. But she was still mad, and still refused to apologize.

  "I'm sorry," he said.

  Evey felt even worse, but steeled her expression and tapped her thumbs a little faster.

  "Understand, Evelyne." Emeric scooted a bit closer. "For some reason that I can't fathom, Sir Robert likes you. He, of all people, has agreed to a marriage, even with no dowry. He might be many things we don't like, but he is honestly trying to do right by his boy. Maybe he thinks you're someone the young Robert could really match. And whether you believe me or not, I'm inclined to agree."

  Evey thought of the conversation in the barn, and shuddered. A good match for that?

  "But this is Sir Robert we're talking about," she retorted. "He'd never do anything for altruism."

  He sighed. "Between you and me, I agree. I think he wants our land. It's not worth much, but the location is good. His holdings are farther to the south. I can think of a few things that he might have in mind. Trade schemes, and the like."

  Evey grunted. He might be right, but that almost made it worse. If Sir Robert wanted land in the north, he'd obviously chosen theirs because he was sure of getting it without much trouble.

  "I won't do it," she said firmly.

  Inexplicably, Emeric laughed.

  "You really are too much like your father. That stubbornness is almost legendary."

  "I'll take that as a compliment," she said. "But I still mean it. You heard what I said last night. I won't be made to marry someone I don't even like."

  His smile disappeared.

  "Evelyne, you're the lady of this castle. You're almost seventeen. It's time for you to learn that being an adult isn't just about doing whatever you want. Other people's lives are involved here too."

  She jumped to her feet. "But, it's my marriage. My entire future life!"

  Emeric took her hand and pulled her to the bench next to him.

  "I know. It's only fair to count that in. You're a good girl, Evelyne, and you've earned the right to a fair choice. If..." He paused, as if in disbelief at what he was about to say. "If you honestly think about it, and you find it all too much to ask, I'll try to talk Sir Robert out of it. I really will."

  She folded her arms. "That's not much of a promise. I don't think Sir Robert is in the habit of being talked out of anything."

  "No, he isn't, but it's the best I can do."

  Evey sat silently. There wasn't a whole lot more to say on the matter.

  Emeric cleared his throat. "Before you decide, consider one more thing. This village, and its people. You have a responsibility to them as well. I know you care about them. I've seen it. And if Sir Robert brings new trade through this area, everything will improve for them."

  Evey sucked in a deep breath. That was a blow straight through the heart. Protecting her people was the one thing she cared about more than anything else.

  "Think about it, Evelyne. But I stand by my offer. If you ask me, I'll try to get it canceled before they announce it at the chapel."

  "I can't ask you to do that for me," she interjected.

  He patted her hand. "I'm hoping you won't. I feel like this is best for both of us. You've made more sacrifices than a lady should have had to endure, and you deserve better than I can give you. But, if you can't bring yourself to it, I understand. At least promise to give both sides a fair chance."

  She stayed silent for a moment.

  "I will. I promise. It's the least I can do for you," she said. "It really will be two weeks this time?"

  "I'm sure of it."

  "Okay." Then before he could stand up, she asked, "Is it really so bad? I know we never had a lot of nice stuff, but I never cared about that. We always made it just fine."

  "I know." He chucked her chin, just like he used to when she was little. "You might be the wildest castle lady that ever ran rampant through Sherwood, but you've been more of a blessing than I can say. We made so many sacrifices, and yet you never noticed. All the work you've done in the fields. All the repairs, and basic craft-work you had to learn. Most ladies couldn't pick up a scythe, let alone reap a field as fast as you can."

  She winked at him. "Another compliment. Uncle Emeric, you're going soft on me."

  "A momentary lapse," he replied, and smiled sadly. "I never told you this before, but there have been years where the only reason I wasn't thrown into the king's dungeons was the unexpected appearance of a few stray silvers. We've certainly been lucky. But how long will that last?"

  Evey n
odded, but didn't trust herself to reply. After all, she knew exactly where those 'lucky' silver pieces came from. He was right. It wouldn't last forever. Whether it was sooner, or much later, she wouldn't always be there to help him.

  She thought about his words for several silent minutes. If she married into Sir Robert's family, Emeric's position would improve. She would be helping him in a different way. No more living from day to day. No more scraping by.

  She would be well taken care of herself. Then there were her people. Most of all, her people. They would benefit too. But Sir Robert and son? Could she? The conflict was more than she wanted to have on her shoulders.

  "I..." she began, though she didn't know quite what to say.

  "You don't have to answer now," Emeric reminded her.

  "I know. But I know what I should do." She grimaced as she said it. But she had to think about more than just herself.

  "I appreciate your answer. Are you sure that you don't want to think about it for a while?"

  "I..." she stuttered, lost for words again. "Oh, I don't know what I'm doing either way. Two weeks to stew over it won't help."

  Emeric nodded gratefully and turned to leave. Before he reached the door, though, he turned and asked one last question.

  "By the way, I always wondered how you slip away so often, before I even notice you're gone? And how do you return so suddenly?"

  She grinned. "The window, of course."

  The look on his face was priceless. "You climb fifteen feet up that wall?"

  "It's not so hard. The rocks are all broken up. It's easy to get a good grip on them."

  "Really? Well, that's one mystery solved."

  He shook his head, and walked out.

  The moment he left, she almost regretted her words. What was she thinking? She couldn't marry Robert's son! Emeric had just given her a way out, and she'd turned it down!

  To keep from panicking, she repeated the reasons over and over again. Why she was selling herself into a marriage contract. The more she said them, the feebler they sounded. But, despite it all, she knew it was the right thing. Or at least, she hoped it was.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  The tax cart drew near. It wasn't laden with piles of silver, like most of the others. Evey could tell that by the shape of the canvas. But even this cart would be a risky job.

  The stories had grown more fanciful every day. Ever since that night at the inn, the tale of the mysterious 'Robin Hood' had spread like wildfire. For a month, she'd been as careful as she could, but the time had only served to turn Robin from a great story to a legend. The entire country talked about the man who robbed from the rich to give to the poor.

  Because of the legends, things had gotten more dangerous. That hardly mattered, though. She needed that silver. The tax season had been rough across the whole region. Evey had hit five different carts within days of each other, and it still wasn't enough.

  She couldn't let a few extra guards keep her from her duty.

  She gauged the distance, the slight breeze, the speed of the cart, and let an arrow fly. As a testament to her skill, it cleanly severed some of the harness straps without even touching the horse. Obviously one shot would never allow a horse to gallop off, whatever Bill claimed. But her arrow cut through an important line, making the whole thing unstable. The driver had no choice but to slow down.

  He stood and gripped a sword tightly in his right hand. Clearly, he expected the seven foot outlaw to materialize from the trees, but Evey kept to the shadows. As usual, the driver would never know she'd been there.

  Just as she reached the back of the cart, she paused. Why were there were no soldiers? Even before the stories, there had usually been two or three, no matter what the cargo was.

  Something was definitely wrong. Her brain told her that she needed the silver. Too many families depended on her. But her instincts told her to leave, and her instincts were very rarely wrong. She chose to follow her gut, and backed off, leaving no sign that she'd ever been there.

  After the cart pulled away, she dashed to the other side of the road to retrieve her arrow. She didn't understand what had just happened. Everything looked so normal, and she hadn't even been seen, let alone caught.

  Maybe the driver did have thirty men around the corner this time. But even if he did, why would that make a difference? She'd still be long gone before anyone sounded an alarm. Once in the trees, she was untraceable.

  So what was the problem? Was she getting soft? Was she losing her touch? It had to be all the stories. She was jumping at shadows. Which was dumb. She was the shadow. She was the one in charge.

  In a fit of stubborn rashness, she dashed through the woods to catch up with the cart, and hid in a small patch of pine saplings, all growing close together.

  She could send a few arrows toward the driver, just to scare him a little. That would also be dumb, though. He probably thought she was already gone. There was no reason to show him otherwise. It served no tactical advantage.

  She waited as patiently as she could while the cart advanced. Just before it passed her, the driver stopped altogether. She froze. Had he seen her?

  No. He couldn't have. She was perfectly hidden and still. If she ran, she'd give herself away for sure.

  The driver glanced around suspiciously, and jumped down from the cart with an extra length of rope. He went to the horse, presumably to repair the severed harness strap. Evey saw the ploy for what it was. The driver had gotten tired of waiting for his attackers to show themselves. With the cart in such a vulnerable position, it would seem foolish to pass up such an opportunity.

  The man moved very slowly, drawing out the time for an attack. He was clearly more on guard than he let on, and Evey had no choice but to wait. The time to act would be just after he really gave up.

  Sudden movement drew her attention. A figure in gray and brown leapt down from a shallow ridge on the other side of the road. Evey cringed at the noise. The driver would have to be a complete fool to miss it.

  He wasn't. He immediately dropped his rope and took up the sword again, but didn't turn around.

  The hooded stranger approached the cart and reached under the cover, just as Evey would have done. An explosion of canvas and limbs told her exactly why the driver hadn't given immediate chase. At the sight of the thief's hand, three men leapt up, casting the canvas to the road behind them. One grasped the offending arm. The other two drew swords and held them at the boy's throat.

  The stranger screeched in surprise. He tried to pull away, but he was smaller than two of the three soldiers. They subdued him quickly. The driver paced in front of the prisoner, chuckling to himself. He ran his thumb down the blade of a knife, which he had drawn in place of his sword.

  "Well, this is no Robin Hood. You're almost too small to be a man at all. I'd say you only just made the cut."

  The driver yanked the hood from the thief's head. He was too old to be a boy. Like the driver said, he was a man, but only just.

  "No, you're certainly no Robin Hood. But perhaps you know him. The shot that cut my harness couldn't have been made by just anyone."

  The young man stiffened in surprise. He hadn't made any shot.

  The soldier paced a few more steps in front of his prisoner. Suddenly, he grabbed the boy's hair and yanked his head back, while placing the dagger tip carefully, but not gently, against the exposed throat.

  "I could kill you now. If you value your life, tell me everything."

  The stranger started to shake his head, then thought better of it. Evey couldn't see his face, but his hair was a sunny golden brown, cut short in the style of an aspiring knight. For some reason, that made her uncomfortable. Almost as though she had watched the same scene before.

  "Don't play with me, boy. Tell me what you know!" The driver removed his knife a fraction of an inch, allowing for speech.

  "I don't know anything. But even if I did, I wouldn't tell you."

  That, she c
ould respect. He had shown quite a bit of courage just then, even with a knife at his throat. A little foolishly, perhaps, but it was a bold stand.

  The driver struck the boy with his dagger hilt, causing him to stagger a few steps to the left. As soon as he got balanced again, he stood up straight and faced another savage hit with stoic resolve.

  That was it. No matter who that young man was, or why he had been stealing from the cart, Evey would set him free.

  She watched the guards closely. One was a short, spindly man. Nothing much to worry about. The other two were typical burly soldiers, clad in chain mail, and wielding poorly balanced swords. They would be slow and unoriginal, but strong.

  The driver himself was as tall as the two soldiers, but not quite as large. He had a coat of arms just visible on his shield, though she couldn't make out whose it was. The man was certainly a knight, and his easy use of both the sword and knife suggested that he had been a military man for many years. He would be the one to watch if it came to a fight.

  The knight asked a few more questions, to no avail. Finally he grew bored with the young man's lack of cooperation, and ordered him tied to the back of the cart. The harness repairs were completed, and the whole procession got underway.

  The timing had to be just right. Evey watched them for half a mile before she acted. All three soldiers walked in a bunch on the right hand side. Bad form. Sure, they did think they had their culprit for the day, but it was still a poor decision.

  Evey came in from the left. She slipped up behind the bound young man, and matched his pace, before tightly clamping her hand over his mouth.

  He struggled fiercely until he realized that the newcomer was not a soldier. She held a finger to her mouth, and he nodded. In one swift movement, she slashed the bindings that held him. He stopped walking, and rubbed his wrists where the ropes had burned.

  Evey rolled her eyes, then quickly grabbed his collar and motioned for him to keep pace, as though his hands were still tied. Again he nodded. She set her bow on the edge of the wagon, deftly swung herself up, and slipped under the canvas. With the slightest jingle, five bags of silver dropped into her quiver.