He didn’t even mark me, just plowed on, dragging my hand like a tether and running into the dark woods as Gisbourne called his men to follow us. I heard Gisbourne laughing as we ran, and the sound rattled around in my mind.
Rob ran like he’d never tire, like demons were chasing him, with his hand clamped on mine like an iron shackle. His jaw were tense and hard, his eyes set forward like a hawk’s. My legs and strength were crumbling beneath me, but I kept moving if only to keep my hand in Rob’s as he wove a wild track through Sherwood. I couldn’t tell if we lost Gisbourne or if he never followed us to start with.
When we got to the cave, he let me go, and I found I were shaking hard. My shirt were all shredded in back and torn in front, and there were a sticky heat on my back that my tangled hair were sticking to. I clutched the shirt to me and it fell apart in my hands.
I sank to the ground and curled over my knees. My back skin stretched and I yelped with the pain.
“Here.” Rob handed me a cloak. “Hold it to your front; your back’s a mess.”
He trotted into the cave, getting the kit. Our supplies were fair dwindling; I’d have to steal more soon. He sat behind me, and his fingertips touched the muslin. My back bunched up against him and he let go, pushing my hair over my shoulder. I could see pieces of fabric shiny black with blood.
The first pull of the cloth from my ripped skin were like fire. I clutched the cloak tighter, shuddering. He plucked out bits of dirt and rock, and every touch seared. Water were leaking from my eyes. I didn’t make a sound, though. I just heard Gisbourne laughing over and over in my head like a sick ballad.
“Try to stop shaking, Scar,” he said. He didn’t sound gentle, like usual, but tight and hard.
I curled tighter, and my back hurt worse.
He finished plucking things and started rubbing salve into my back, and I buried my face in the cloak as tears poured out. It hurt; it felt like pain on top of pain.
“Here,” he said, and I hadn’t even realized he had stopped rubbing until I saw him in front of me. He stripped off his shirt and bunched it in one hand, pressing it to me. I looked up at him with my wet face, and his jaw muscles rippled. I took the shirt with a shaking hand, pulled it over me gingerly, and then handed him the cloak. His look were more like a glare. “No. Put it on.”
I obeyed, chewing my lip. “Rob, I’m sorry ’bout the coin—” “Stop.”
I stopped.
“Don’t you say anything.”
I blinked.
“I don’t think I can listen to anything right now. Not after that. Not after seeing you, your shirt all torn like Thom—” His mouth tightened like a drawstring. “And then hearing Gisbourne say fiancé.”
I were trembling so hard I felt like my belly were rattling loose. “Rob—”
“Not. A. Word.” He shook his head, and his eyes went shut. “I just don’t know which one is making me feel like this, like I’m going to vomit up my organs. Did Thom hurt you?”
I shook my head, too scared to speak.
He pointed a finger at me. He weren’t facing me but standing sideways, his arm stretched straight out and his chest bare. “And you’re Lady Marian Fitzwalter, aren’t you? Lord Leaford’s younger daughter. Gisbourne’s intended.”
I clutched the cloak tight, frozen inside and out.
“Answer me!” he snapped.
I nodded. He looked away from me and my eyes stung like they’d been whipped, but truth were, I were crying. Crying like the stupid girl I were. My whole body were beating with pain, and it felt like someone were pressing their thumbs into my eyes.
He nodded, going into the cave and finding a tunic that looked foolish without a shirt. “Don’t move,” he ordered as he walked back out and headed toward the woods.
“Where are you going?” I asked, a hiccup escaping. I pushed my face into my hands. I didn’t want to look at him.
“To warn the others. If Thom’s a traitor, Gisbourne will be on them soon. Stay here.” He took a step. “No, go to Tuck’s. Have him hide you. If I see you sitting in the tavern, I swear I’ll murder you myself.”
I ran all the way, letting the wind pull my tears away. Tuck put me in a small room at the inn, and I curled in a corner, taking the blanket from the bed and wrapping it around me. I twisted up over my knees and sobbed. It felt like losing Joanna all over again, like the only thing that loved me in the world were dead and gone.
An awful long time went by before someone knocked on the door. I jumped.
“Scar?” he called. I didn’t say nothing and he just opened the door. It were John, and the tears started again. I didn’t want it to be John. I wanted it to be Rob, saying everything were just fine and I hadn’t failed everyone and everything. “Aw, love,” he said, and came over, sat beside me, and pulled me into his lap, letting me curl around him. I started to cry harder, and he rubbed my back.
I wailed, pulling away. He made soft noises, pulling me closer again, careful of my back. “Hush,” he whispered, like I were a child. “I’m just glad you’re all right. Girls downstairs are awful worried about you. Well, they don’t know it’s you that Tuck put up here, but they said someone was crying.”
I gripped his shirt. My tears were making me shake again, and I just wanted it all to stop.
“I’m here, Scar. I’m not going anywhere.” His hands pushed back the tears on my cheek and his thumb stroked the side of my head. I looked at his eyes. “I’m not going anywhere, Scar, because I love you.”
He pulled my head closer and pushed his lips against mine, and I kissed him back. I knew it were a damn fool thing to do, but I couldn’t help it. He rubbed my neck and kept me close to his face.
It didn’t help any. Honestly, it made it worse than ever. I were hollowed out and twisted up, sick in all kinds of ways. I felt like nothing would ever be good again, and I pulled my lips back. His hand kept me right there. “John,” I said soft. “I’m—”
“Don’t stop on my account.”
I jerked to look at Rob, standing in the doorway, his fist white-knuckling the door handle.
“Guess you’ve recovered, then.”
“Did you find Thom?” John asked.
“Not yet.”
“Robin,” Tuck said, appearing in the hall. “You lot need to come see this.”
Rob glared at me again, and I stood up. John started to help me, but I were on my feet. Everything hurt. My side ached where the branch hit me, my cheek were pulsing, and my back were throwing off heat like a fire and making the rest of me feel shivery. My head felt like someone were banging a pot against it, and the kiss didn’t help any of it none.
Rob stopped me at the door, blocking my way. He wouldn’t look at me. “Cloak,” he said. The word sounded like a curse. John put the cloak over my shoulders, pulling up the hood, and Rob let us both pass.
Much weren’t in the tavern, which I thought were odd. There weren’t anyone there. Tuck went outside and we followed.
I stopped dead in my tracks. Everyone were quiet, standing in a circle. We pushed through, and vomit, pain, and blood all started fighting each other in my body.
I’m not proud of it. It were fair shameful. I took one look at the body and drew about four desperate breaths before the pain won and I fainted. Thom Walker were on the ground, his body staked out with knives, his shirt hanging off in tatters. His mouth were sewn shut with black blood-soaked thread, the mark of a traitor. Blood were dried all over his face, and on his chest, through a thick cover of blackening blood, Gisbourne carved the words GIVE ME MARIAN.
Chapter
Fourteen
I’m to die today.
I woke up back in the room at Tuck’s, and this time I were in the bed, the cloak off and the blankets round me. I felt like a rock. I moved, and my whole body were sore. My eyes were like wood dust and my side were hot and swollen. I were bruised and bloody, inside and out.
I stayed for a long time on the bed, not moving, just blinking. That’s all I could think, ov
er and over. I’m to die today. Because I knew that as soon as I started moving, I had to turn myself in to Gisbourne. I couldn’t let anyone else get hurt.
The lads wouldn’t like it. I’d have to sneak off. I wouldn’t have the chance to say good-bye neither. And then, when Gisbourne got ahold of me, he’d kill me. God knows I’d done enough to deserve it, and since my father signed the marriage contract all those years ago, he had the right.
“I can tell you’re awake, you know.”
I turned over to my other side, biting my lip as I rolled onto my bruises and back. I sat up and dizziness rocked me over.
It were Rob, sitting with his back against the door. He were rumpled and soft looking but for his eyes. They were hard, staring at the floor.
“How long were I asleep?”
“You mean passed out? You fainted, Scar.”
The memory of the body ran over me like ice. “Right.”
“You’ve been out through the night. You never moved.”
“Why are you in here?”
“Because I know you. And I knew that as soon as you woke up, you were going to run off and turn yourself in to Gisbourne.” He smiled a little bit. “Or run away. Either way, I’m not letting you go.”
My mug went hot, but it sounded more like a threat. “Coulda sworn you hated me yesternight.”
“That has little to do with whether I’m turning you over to Gisbourne or not.”
“It ain’t lawful, you know. Keeping me from him.”
“Last time I called accounts, I was an outlaw, so it’s moot. Why do you speak like that?”
I looked down, picking at the threads of the blanket. “When I were young, I used to do it to set my mother hopping. I figured they could tell me what to do but they couldn’t force me to speak right. I’d mimic everyone I could to make her angry. But then we ran off and Joanna, being oldest, did most of the talking, and we got in hot water awful fast. So I started aping the commoners, and the rougher the better. It were so easy. And the more I spoke that way, the more I thought like that, and the more I thought like it, the farther I felt from Leaford and my parents. The rougher I spoke the freer I were. Was.”
He shook his head. “I should have known. When you were so angry about me treating noblewomen differently, and you spoke like that . . . I think I knew.”
I scoffed. “You didn’t know, Rob.”
He sighed. “No, I didn’t, but I should have. I saw you steal the ribbon from Gisbourne’s things, I knew when you spoke, I had all these inklings that I didn’t want to put together.” He swallowed. “I met you once. You probably don’t remember. You were just a little girl. I passed through your land when I left for the Crusades.” He touched his chest. “You and your sister made me a garland of some little flowers for luck.”
“I weren’t so little,” I told him. Even knowing how angry he were with me, the notion that he did notice me all those years past sent my cheeks blushing. “Or I didn’t think I were. It were a fair bit more than a year before the business with Gisbourne, though, so I reckon I were little.”
“I should have known, Scar, when I saw your eyes. I didn’t want to know.”
“I didn’t want you to know, either.”
“Why did you and your sister run away from home?” he asked.
I sniffed. “Joanna were the only person who meant anything to me. And I to her. My parents had signed my contract to Gisbourne, and it were expected that an offer for her from a Scottish lord would arrive any day. They had so much land and no money to keep it, but they couldn’t sell it because it were our dowries. Gisbourne and this other lord came courting with coin, and my parents jumped at the chance.” I shook my head. “We would be so far apart, and,” I whispered, screwing my eyes tight against the notion, “I were so scared of him. My parents introduced us and he were allowed to take me walking in the garden. Going with him, my body felt like ice all over. Couldn’t explain it, but he gave me such an awful feeling. I sent my maids to talk to his servants, and the stories I heard from them put chills in my blood. When I told my parents I wouldn’t marry him, they said I were a headstrong girl and didn’t know best. So we ran.” My teeth bit hard into my lip, twisting it ’bout till it felt like a worm in my mouth. “She would have stayed. She would have married her Scottish lord. It were me.”
“Who made her leave?”
My eyes hooked into the floor and didn’t let go none.
“She made her own decision, Scar. She was older than you.”
“Didn’t matter. If I hadn’t been a coward, she would have stayed. And if she stayed, she wouldn’t be dead.”
The words fell soft between us, and they settled and grew till all I could think of were the quiet. Then Rob sighed. “Why couldn’t you trust me with this? Why couldn’t you tell me?” he asked.
I looked up and his eyes were on me, bleak and open and reaching toward me. “Because you’re honorable, Rob, and by your honor, you should give me back to him.”
He shook his head. “You aren’t a horse. Gisbourne doesn’t own you, and I won’t return you to him against your will. And as for my honor, it’s of two minds about the situation.”
I squirmed. “Is either of them good for me?”
He smiled, but it weren’t a real smile. “Gisbourne’s a monster. I told you I would protect you with my life, and I would spend my whole life keeping girls like you from men like him.”
“But my father made the promise,” I said. I knew he were going to say it.
“No,” he said. His voice made me look at his eyes again. “No. You’re engaged, Scar. All the rest, I should have known, but that—” I’ve seen the ocean but a few times in my life, and one of them were during this rough storm. The sky were black and pierced with angry veins of light, and the water roiled like it were boiling in a pot. It were all I could think of, looking at Rob’s eyes. “Letting me think you were unattached? That’s the worst damn lie you ever told.”
The pain were gone, and my heart beat against my chest. My mouth went dry, like my whole body didn’t want me to ask what I were ’bout to. “Why?”
He shook his head, and lightning cracked ’cross the storm of his face. “Don’t ask me that, Scar. Marian. Whatever your name is.”
I stood. “Why can’t I ask?”
He stood too, coming over to me. He were taller, tall enough to look down and make me feel small. His gaze most often made me feel bigger than I were. His thumb ran back ’long my jaw, slotting in front of my ear, the rest of his hand around the back of my neck. My breath flew away. “Because you’re engaged, and because even if you weren’t, you’re with John.”
“I’m not,” I said.
His hand pushed me away, and he sounded angry but his eyes just looked like I’d stabbed him. “Well, then that makes you a whore.”
My eyes set to burning at that awful word. “You would say that!” I snapped. “Gisbourne is a monster, so I can’t belong to him, but John’s a nice sort, so he’s all right to own me, ain’t he? He says he loves me so it don’t matter how I feel, do it? He didn’t care none and neither do you.”
He grabbed my arms. “Scar, you kiss him, you sleep with him, you’re alone with him—what the hell do you want me to think?”
“Why are you thinking ’bout me at all?”
“I’m not.” He looked at me, straight in the eye, and pushed me off. “I won’t.”
I stepped back. God in Heaven, how could he do that—make me feel hurt and small and alone with one stupid word? “By the Holy Rood, Robin of Locksley, I hate you,” I spat at him. I pushed him aside, snatched my cloak, and opened the door. He grabbed my wrist, and I jerked away.
John were in the hall and he caught me round the waist. “Hey, love,” he said.
Pain shot through my back and I pushed him. “I’m not your love, John!” He looked so slack-jawed, and I felt hot tears rush to my eyes. I stopped and put my hand on his cheek. I could feel Robin standing right behind me. “I love you, John, but I don’t want t
o be kissed by you none. And you only want to kiss me because you saw my bits in a dress.”
He rubbed his rough cheek into my hand like a cat. “That’s not true. And you do want to be kissed by me. Don’t lie.”
My hand fell and my face ran hot. “I don’t, John!”
His eyes narrowed on me, fair worried. I shook my head but Rob scoffed. Then John’s eyes went to Robin and John laughed, but it weren’t a happy sort of laugh. “Oh. I see what this is about.”
Shame rushed over me again, feeling Rob’s awful stare on my back, and my face crumpled. John tensed.
“Something you and I should be discussing, Rob?” John asked.
“No,” he said. I pushed past John with water on my cheeks and Rob said sharp, “Where are you going, Scar?”
“You know where,” I said.
“Where?” John asked.
I kept going, but Rob kept after, saying, “If nothing else, you need to undo what you’ve done. The sheriff got twenty-seven people for not paying tax. Thirteen of the twenty-seven are children, Scar. You don’t get to just walk away from this.”
“I’m not!”
“And you’d have them see you die? You’d have all those children watch you be killed and know it was their fault?” he roared. “You’d put that on their shoulders, on their souls?”
I went boneless against the wall. I didn’t turn to look at him; I didn’t much dare. He were furious, but I wondered—wished—if he were saying he didn’t want to watch me die. Rob had that way, sometimes, of talking ’bout something other than what he meant.
“It’s not her fault,” Much said, coming up the stairs.
“The hell it isn’t,” Rob said, and I winced like he’d hit me with the words, dashing my wishes on rocks. “I’m not going to let her turn herself in, but yes, right at this moment, I think it’s her fault.”
“Rob!” Much said. “We’re all angry. Some for different reasons, but this isn’t the time to blame others for it.”