Chapter Twenty #2
The forest rustles, and ropes drop from the towering trees to the ground.
About a dozen figures wearing mismatched leather, bits of armor, and green cloaks spiral down them on both sides of us.
Several have masks made of carved wood. One has what appears to be a saucepan strapped to his head.
Interesting choice of headwear. Are our pans still in our room at Hallows Castle?
I have a medium-sized one that I was fond of.
Great size to make tea, soup, and wash my face in—all in one.
One of the gang steps forward. Tall. Lean. Hooded. He sweeps his cloak aside as if he’s unveiling a statue we should bow to. Very dramatic. I’m enjoying the production.
“Travelers,” he roars. “I am Dave.”
Hart raises his sword. Nash spins a dagger in his hand. Malachi raises an eyebrow while still clutching Excalibur. Theo raises absolutely nothing because he’s too busy squishing me against the horse and deciding whether to set the entire forest on fire.
The hooded man spreads his arms. “You have been waylaid by the Brotherhood for the Unburdening of Tyrants’ Treasure!”
Silence.
I blink. Do they think they’re famous? “The what?”
“The Brotherhood of—”
“I heard the first time,” I interrupt. “I just hoped it would improve on the second pass. You know you literally called yourselves BUTT?”
Dave sighs deeply. “I knew we should have recast the vote.”
Another man steps forward, an arrow still lodged in his bow as he shakes off his hood.
Oh, my. He’s pretty. Deep brown eyes, a chiseled jawline like the Idols carved him to enrapture everyone around him. A plush mouth set in a cruel smile that would melt the panties off half the maidens. Pity my panties already left the party, or I might have thrown them at him in approval.
Theo snarls.
Oops, this mind-meld thing is going to be a pain.
“Only if you comment on others’ beauty and panties,” he snaps.
Malachi tilts his head like he’s trying to figure out the context. Later, I’ll explain that his eldest brother stole them while he made me squirm on the ground under the stars.
I roll my eyes and jab my elbow into Theo’s stomach. I feel ridiculous being pinned like this.
“And we work closely with the Alliance for the Seizure of Silver,” another informs us, shaking a small green banner displayed between him and another guy.
BUTT endorsed by ASS.
I snort alongside Malachi, who looks close to falling off his horse.
“Branding is epic, guys,” Hart mutters.
Theo rises an inch at a time. I crack my neck and smile at the men surrounding us in a circle.
“So you’re a criminal organization built entirely on backside humor,” I point out.
Dave tilts his chin. “We prefer cheeky rebellion.”
“We rob the rich to feed the poor,” Pretty Boy explains.
“Find a new nickname, now,” Theo warns as his grip around my waist tightens.
“Thieves,” Hart grumbles. “Lowly, semi-organized, marginally skilled thieves.”
“We prefer bandits,” Dave says. “We don’t keep the riches.”
Malachi slowly lowers his sword. “You ambushed us for charity?”
A woman drops from a branch overhead and lands beside the hooded man. She’s a red-headed beauty with a dangerous edge to her movements. Whoop for the female representation.
“We prefer the term aggressive fundraising,” she declares while eyeballing Nash like he’s her last meal. She offers him her dagger. “Stabitha, charmed,” she declares. Cancel the representation. Not a fucking chance. Back up, bitch. You’ll be charred once I set my dragon on you.
Theo chuckles. Yes, I’m aware of the double standard, and no, I don’t want to discuss it.
Nash saves her life by ignoring her.
Hart’s eyes narrow. “You shot arrows at us.”
She shrugs as she inches toward my dark knight, making me tense. “Warning shots.”
One of the arrows embedded in Nash’s saddle chooses that moment to snap off and fall to the ground.
“Very motivational warning shots,” she adds.
Theo’s dragon stirs under his skin. “You tried to kill us.”
“We absolutely did not,” Pretty Boy snaps. He gestures toward Hart. “If we wanted you dead, Sir Brooding Jawline would already be bleeding.”
Hart looks mildly offended. “I am not brooding.”
“You make brooding a sport,” I inform him.
Another guy wanders over, staring at our horses with open admiration.
“Those are expensive saddles,” he notes.
“They are,” Nash replies.
Pretty Boy gives a sage nod. “We’ll be taking them.”
“Try it,” Nash says, showing his rather sharp teeth. Everyone, including the pretty redhead, takes a step back. That’s right. He’s too dark and too dangerous for you to handle.
“On second thought, we’ll just take the coins,” Mr. Big Brown Eyes decides.
“We don’t have coins,” Theo growls. “And for the love of the architects, tell us your name.”
“Robin,” he says with a smirk. “Robin Hood.”
Ah, the cloaks make sense now. Like they’re in their own special club. Also, Robin is robbing folks. I can see the brilliance of their brand now, apart from the ill thought out brotherhood name.
Everyone waits for our reaction. “Are we meant to know who he is?” I whisper. “Because he’s acting like Charming with a green cloak fetish.” Better than the foot thing.
Theo shakes his head. “Never heard of him.”
Robin tilts his head. “Regardless of your poor upbringing and intelligence, you look like people who have coins.”
How to Win Friends and Influence Your Victims by Robin Hood. Instant bestseller with the Hallowed who are clueless as to what makes a true hero.
I gesture to the wanted poster still sticking out of Hart’s belt. “We have no coin and are currently wanted by the Idols.”
Theo groans and rests his head on my back. “Never announce your wanted status to the enemy.”
Is that like a dating thing too? Because all of these knights are taken. I give Stabitha the stink eye. She might stab people on purpose, but I don’t even have to try. Put a blade in my hand, and I guarantee at least three folks will be bleeding within ten tempos.
Another bandit squints at the parchment. “Wait.” He leans closer, and his eyes widen as they flick between the terrible rendition of me and my real face. “Oh.”
“Oh, what?” Nash asks.
“You’re Daphne Stone.”
Silence falls as the bandits absorb my presence. Good luck. I’ve been here many an annus and I still have no idea what to do.
The man with the saucepan helmet gasps and points at my face. “The one with the mouth.”
“Hello,” I say with a wave and a smile. I lean back against Theo and lower my voice. “Is it strange for a maiden to own a mouth? Because there’s a lot of attention on that fact.”
His eyes drop to my lips like he’s checking in before answering. “No one has your mouth. That’s the distinction.”
Well, it’s reassuring that my mouth isn’t cheating on me with another.
The hooded leader groans. “Oh, for the love of narrative.”
“Is this bad?” one of his bandits whispers.
“Yes,” he mutters. “Extremely.”
Theo’s arm tightens around me. “You should leave,” he warns. “If you try to take her, you will take your last breath here today beneath this canopy of leaves, where your bodies will rot.”
That’s rather dark, but I don’t sense the intention to kidnap me.
Of course, I once thought Gaston had good intentions when he offered me pancakes for breakfast. I didn’t realize it was in payment for a night with my body.
Both of us were disappointed. Him with the blue balls that would surely end him, and me with an empty stomach.
Only one of those things is a medical emergency.
The bandit leader rubs his temples just like Gwyneth does. I never found the appeal in temple rubbing. It doesn’t help me to make good choices. “Right.” He turns to his group. “New plan.”
“What plan?” Barry asks.
“We rob someone else.” There’s a collective groan, and a shorter bandit raises a hand. “Yes, Pudding Tom?”
Pudding Tom because he has all the sweet treats on his person? Now here’s someone to befriend.
“What about the horses?”
Theo’s dragon heat surges through his skin. Pudding Tom’s hand tembles as he lowers it.
“Not the horses,” Robin declares. Smart man. The hooded leader gives me a dramatic bow. “Apologies, Lady Grimm. Had we known it was you, we would have ambushed someone less likely to rewrite our existence.”
“Flattering,” I say. I’m not convinced about that title when the best they came up with for themselves was variations of a bottom. “And forgiven.”
I hate anyone bowing to me. No one is above anyone else in this life. That’s what needs to change.
He straightens. “Continue on with your destiny or whatever it is architects do.”
Stabitha twists her lips as she assesses me. “We should escort them out of the forest at least. Not all who dwell here are friends of the Grimm bloodline.”
Robin sighs like it’s a bother to guard our safety when he commits crime for a living. “Fine. Barry, Dave, and Big Ned shall stalk the forest ahead, clearing out any ill intent.”
A guy twice the size of everyone moves out of the bushes. How in the Blazes did we miss him?
The saucepan hat dude jumps up and down and claps his hands. “Yes, I get a mission.”
They’re sending Barry the Unreliable? Ugh, could be worse. Stabitha the sneaky sorceress could be joining us.
“And Stabitha,” Robin adds. What a mellow. They could have at least sent the guy with snacks.
I lean toward Pudding Tom. “Do you happen to have a sweet treat? I fear I’m a little low on blood sugar.”
He grins and flings open his cloak. For a terrifying tempo, I worry he’s going to flash us and that will be the end of his sausage.
But alas, something far more scrumptious is presented.
A garment lined with little pockets, and out of the top peeks an array of cakes and mini fruit pies.
“Take your pick, Daphne, in an apology for holding you hostage.”
We were never hostages, but I’d never rain on the guy with the food’s parade.
I lick my lips. “Is that a cherry pie?”
He nods and draws a paper-wrapped mini pie from his top-left pocket. “Best my mama ever made.”
I smile as I take the pie from him. “Tell your mama thank you.”
He salutes me and snaps his cloak closed. I need a cloak like that. All I have is Malachi’s we get freaky on the back of a horse outerwear. We need an upgrade to snacks and sausage.
Robin turns and swings his hood up. “Remaining BUTTs, embark to the trees and lay in wait for a suitable victim. We shall report this incident to ASS tonight.”
They scatter like startled squirrels, and within a split tempo, the forest swallows them whole, even those meant to clear the way for us.
Silence returns. Hart stares after them. Nash rubs the bridge of his nose. Malachi bursts out laughing.
“That’s impressive,” I say.
“How they disappear?” Theo asks. His voice is a little less growly the more he uses it.
“No, the cherry pie,” I answer as I eat the treat in two bites and lick my fingers clean. “Ooh, a cherry just popped in my mouth.”
“I have no words,” Hart mutters as he urges his horse forward.
Theo presses his forehead to the back of my head and mutters, “Only you could survive an assassination attempt that turns into charity work.”
I grin and gesture toward the forest. “Well, at least someone in this realm is redistributing wealth.” Actually… “Hey guys in the bushes?” Stabitha slides out of the dark and walks beside us. “And girls,” I add.
She winks at me. “How can I help you, Daphne?”
By not eyeballing my knights. “How do you determine who gets the riches?”
She raises a brow. “You want to know our charter?”
“A summary, but no details. I have no room for those.”
“Well, we most often take what we loot and swap it for essentials at the market, then distribute those. Like food and clothing.”
“That’s smart,” I agree.
“Thanks. I came up with it.”
Of course she did. That’s why women should rule the realm.
“Can I ask you a question?” she ventures.
“Of course, I’m an open book.”
“Sometimes too open,” Hart grumbles.
“Shush from the peanut gallery.”
“I’m out front,” he points out.
This time, Stabitha and I shush him at the same time and then share a chuckle.
“Which of the brothers are you with?” she asks.
My cheeks heat. Oh, I’m not that open. Scrap that, since when have I cared what others think of me? “All of them.”
Her mouth drops open, and she scans the horses. “How is that working out?”
“Brilliantly.”
“I couldn’t be bothered with one, never mind four. I already fight a battle with expectations about not being the cute little woman barefoot and pregnant waiting for my man to return from a hard day’s toil.”
“Girl, I feel you. Working in a male-dominated environment is hard.”
She blinks up at me. “You seem to navigate it well.”
“Me? I navigate nothing. That’s why I have these guys, so I can do the important things.”
“Like cake foraging and sausage sniffing,” Theo mutters with a nip to my ear.
I jerk in the saddle.
“Did I not sense a little tension between you and Robin?” I wonder.
Stabitha curls her lip. “He wishes. I’d eat him for breakfast and still have room for more.”
“I’d like you to eat me for breakfast,” Theo rumbles in my ear. “And lunch, and then dinner, followed by a midnight snack.”
“Those are the best kind,” I whisper.
“Don’t pretend we didn’t all see you sneaking out of Hood’s tent before dawn over the last week,” Barry says, appearing from the tree above us and swinging to the ground next to Stabitha.
She groans. “I have no privacy in this group.” Again, relatable. “Let’s just concentrate on getting these lovely folks out of the Forbidden Forest alive and not eaten.”
And for the next three turns, I learn about BUTT and become an honorary member. A mascot of nobility for all. I am undeniable.
Theo’s horse rears, and I clutch on for dear life with a yelp that announces our presence to everyone within a three-mile radius. I was never a fan of the element of surprise anyway.
“Why is your horse acting crazy?” I grit out.
Theo secures me in place with his muscular arms. “No idea, but it might have been your declaration of being undeniable, and the realm replying with, ‘here, hold my beer.’”
“Inside thoughts don’t count,” I snap.
“You said it aloud,” everyone around me choruses.
Fine. Fuck you, Idols. And fuck fate. I am still undeniable, and I won’t be bullied otherwise.
“It was a mouse,” Stabitha declares, dangling the tiny creature by its tail.
The horse stops overreacting, and the world rights itself once more. The face-eating beasts are terrified of squeaky rodents? Who knew?
“On that note,” Dave says as he too dangles from a tree. “You have reached the end of the forest and are now entering So Far Away.”
“Good luck,” Stabitha says before they melt into the trees as if they had never been here.
Creepy.