Chapter 6
Istayed hidden all night, until nearly dawn.
Early on, torches had bobbed through the darkness and I heard men tromping through the underbrush beneath my perch.
Their voices carried upward, sharp and angry, cursing the low-ranking guards who had fallen asleep while on duty and allowed their prisoner to slip away.
As the hours passed, the searchers’ numbers dwindled until at last, the woods fell quiet again.
I did my best not to move, but the crisp autumn wind bit at my exposed face and hands, and my legs slowly began to go numb from keeping the same position.
I shifted my weight only when I absolutely had to, wincing each time the painful needle-pricks of returning sensation rushed up and down my limbs.
While I waited in the dark, I watched the stars through the treetop canopy and studied their slow, wheeling movement.
By their guidance, I marked the direction that would lead me back to Sherwood Forest. When two full hours passed without so much as a twig snapping below, I finally allowed myself to descend.
I climbed awkwardly down to the lowest branch and dropped to the ground. My legs crumpled beneath me. They were stiff from the cold and from hours spent crouched in one position and felt like unresponsive stumps. I would not be walking properly for several minutes at least.
"Impressive," a deep voice said behind me.
My heart nearly leapt out of my throat as I turned to look.
A dark figure stepped out from behind a nearby tree, his form huge against the faint gray of approaching dawn.
I tried to get up and run, but my legs refused to obey.
Tingling shot from my hips to the very tips of my toes, and I stumbled backward over a thick root, falling hard on my backside.
The figure advanced, solidifying into a massive man.
I scrambled to draw the dagger I had taken, but he kicked it out of my hand before I could so much as lift my arm.
He lifted me easily off the ground, ignoring my furious thrashing, and bound my wrists tightly behind me with a length of coarse rope.
Cursing my traitorous limbs, I tried every tactic I knew.
I drove my elbow backward, tried to butt his head with my own, twisted and jerked.
I managed a solid kick to his shin, but he didn’t even grunt in pain.
How had I failed to hear this mountain of a man moving through the woods?
We marched back to camp as the sun rose.
My hands were tied behind me and my captor also walked behind, holding the rope much too tightly for me to break away.
As light spread across the clearing, I finally saw his face.
He was younger than I expected, perhaps only a few years older than myself, and tall, broad-shouldered, and powerfully built.
His shaggy dark hair and sun-tanned skin contrasted sharply with my own red hair and much paler complexion.
"How did you find me?" I asked, still debating whether to fall back into the helpless tavern girl facade or let my anger and humiliation burn through.
"I tracked you," he said nonchalantly. "Your footprints led to that tree. There was bark scraped from the trunk a few feet up. You probably ran and used the tree to push yourself upward. Am I right?"
A thousand curses for my arrogance! Naturally, a group of that size would have a tracker or two amongst them. I had been careless. I clamped my jaw shut, refusing to give him any information.
The young man stepped to my side, studying me with a casual grin on his face. "Want to tell me how you escaped?"
Now was my chance to feign ignorance and naivety. I widened my eyes. “The guards just fell asleep.”
He gave me a shrewd look. "And you just happen to have sophor berry juice staining your fingers?"
"What?" I wrinkled my nose in confusion. "I don’t know what…sah-fur berries are." But the slight maroon stain on my fingertips was enough evidence that my playacting fell pathetically limp.
He smiled, slow and knowing. "So far, we’ve had three guards who mysteriously fell asleep while watching you. What an interesting coincidence."
I refused to speak again.
The sheriff stood waiting just inside his tent when we returned to camp, arms folded over his broad belly.
His smug, self-righteous expression made me want to slap him.
“Well done, Baron,” he said, nodding at the tracker at my side, then he turned his attention to me.
“Young lady, what have you to say for yourself?”
I let the tears come on cue, shoulders shaking. “I am so frightened!” I sobbed in an exaggerated, trembling voice. “I miss my family. I just want to go home!”
The tracker dropped his voice. “Don’t fall for it. I found sophor berries in the stew the guards ate last night and she knew exactly where to go once I bound her. She walked straight back here.”
Curse my sense of direction. I should have meandered incompetently through the woods like a confused, helpless girl.
The sheriff, however, waved the tracker’s warning away with a belittling chuckle.
“Honestly, Baron, Goric and Flavius have never been the brightest. They likely picked the berries by accident and ate them, not knowing what they were. And you were with the girl today, so naturally she would follow your lead. She was merely following you.”
His gaze sharpened as he inspected me. “That little performance you gave last night was admirable,” he said, circling me. “However, there is no Gerald or Pippi employed at the inn. I was right; you are Robin Hood’s daughter.”
I swallowed and watched him, waiting to see how dangerous he thought I was. Baron’s jaw tightened. He tried again, his tone edged with frustration. “I’m telling you, she’s cleverer than you think. Double her guard or she will be gone before this time tomorrow.”
The sheriff clicked his tongue in dismissal. “She’ll be guarded. I just need someone actually competent to watch her. Dorian!”
A figure snapped to attention at the tent entrance and stepped forward smartly.
The sheriff took the rope from Baron’s hand and tossed it to Dorian.
“Don’t let her escape, and watch what you eat around her or she might try to dump sophor berries into it.
Keep her secured until her father arrives.
I have waited years to best Robin Hood, and I won’t let some girl ruin it for me.
A few more days and I’ll have him at last.”
Dorian glanced down at me with outright contempt. “Do we have more king’s wort?” he asked, lip curling. “It would be less trouble.”
“No,” the sheriff snapped in a tone that ended the discussion. “We don’t. Now go.”
Dorian jerked hard on the rope, and my arms were yanked painfully so I had to stagger to keep my balance. I stumbled sideways, fighting to maintain my composure. Keep it up, Dorian, I thought darkly. You’re next on my list.