Chapter 40
Father rushed immediately to his oldest friend’s side while I heavily dropped the hilt of the sword I had to onto the final man’s head to knock him unconscious.
“Baron, you’re here. Finally!” the sheriff said. “Come help me.”
“No.” Baron took a step closer. Fear clutched at my chest. The sheriff was armed and Baron was defenseless.
The sheriff’s eyes snapped over to look at his son. “You can’t possibly be on their side.”
“I am.”
The sheriff’s mouth quirked into a vicious half-smile. “No, you’re not.”
“It’s over, Father. I’m done with you.”
The sheriff’s eyes blazed and he hurriedly looked around the battlefield.
My father was frantically tending Little John’s injuries and I’d nearly closed the gap between myself and Baron, still holding onto my ludicrously-sized sword.
It was only the sheriff left. All his comrades had fallen and he was cornered.
“Don’t do anything rash, son,” the sheriff cried.
His voice changed from aggressive to wheedling.
“Just this once, I’m willing to forgive your betrayal.
No one will ever know about this if you come back with me.
I already covered for you, you know. I told them I sent you after the girl.
You’ve been by my side for years. Soon, you’ll be the next Sheriff of Nottingham.
Think of the power and wealth you’ll have. ”
“I don’t care. I don’t want it.”
The sheriff snorted. “Then you’re a fool. They’ll never accept you. You’ll always be an outcast if you try to tag along after them. They may let you play pretend, but you’ll never be one of them. You know it’s true.”
A spasm of fear flickered across Baron’s face. There was some accuracy to what the sheriff was saying. Hadn’t we made that obvious when we put Baron on probation? As much as we tried to overcome it, the men still had reservations about Baron’s allegiances. Now it was time to test those loyalties.
“Baron,” I said quietly, hoping my voice would ground him. “Don’t listen to him. Remember what he’s done to you. You deserve better.”
The sheriff ignored me and continued, lowering his voice to the warm, flattering tone he had used upon first meeting me.
“I’m sorry, Baron. I know what happened back at camp wasn’t your fault, and I forgive you for letting your guard down.
I never should’ve left you alone with her.
I failed you, my son. I’ll do better. We will do better. Together.”
I saw Baron’s back stiffen. Would the years of craving his father’s acceptance and love overpower his newfound loyalty to me?
“What do you want?” Baron called.
“I’ve made it very plain. Return with me now, and I will forget your little escapade.
I know you helped free Robin Hood and that little shrew there, but I covered for you, as I said.
It’s my reward to you because you’ve been by my side for years.
I know you better than she ever will.” The sheriff inched closer to Baron.
“Stay back!” I stepped in front of Baron and swiped viciously at the air with the heavy sword. The sheriff backtracked several paces but didn’t give up.
“I know who you are,” the sheriff called to Baron.
“I know everything you’ve ever done, and I know you must be hiding things about your past from that girl.
Once she discovers it all, she’ll never stay with you, and you know it.
All the people you’ve killed, all the punishments you’ve administered…
She’ll hate you and abandon you, and then you’ll be alone with nowhere to go.
But I’m here for you now, Baron. Come with me. That witch—”
“She isn’t a witch,” was Baron’s cold, firm reply from behind me.
“She is,” his father hissed. “She’s manipulating you—can’t you see that? She doesn’t care about you. She only toying with your affections to get what she wants. I’m the one who raised you. I’m the blood you owe loyalty to.”
I swallowed. If Baron didn’t fear being abandoned, he would’ve left his father years before. Now that fear was what his father preyed on.
“You were the one who made him do those things!” I called desperately, though I didn’t know what Baron had done in the past that his father had referenced.
Surely, he’d done things he regretted, given the company he had kept for years.
But none of that mattered now. Whatever had happened before… he had changed.
The sheriff laughed aloud. “Don’t you remember what she did to Sneeds?
What makes you think she isn’t doing the same to you right now?
Luring you in and then she’ll leave you as soon as it suits her.
She and her good-for-nothing father cowering in the dirt there.
You know you’ll never be welcome with their kind. ”
Baron needed to stop listening. He needed to shut his father’s voice out so that the sheriff’s words would stop slithering in, wheedling and winding through every crack.
“Did you really think the high and mighty Merry Men of Sherwood Forest would welcome you with open arms?” he crooned, his voice scraped raw with contempt.
“They’ll never trust you. That harlot will never trust you.
With them, you’ll be an outcast your whole life, always second-class.
They’ll never truly accept you, even if they let you wear their little costume.
You’re the son of the Sheriff of Nottingham, and they know it.
You will never belong anywhere but with me. ”
“Shut up!” I screamed. My voice cracked from the force of it, the words tearing out of my throat.
But the damage was already done.
I chanced a quick glance over my shoulder to see Baron’s expression twist. His shoulders hunched inward ever so slightly, his breathing quickened, and his eyes flickered with uncertainty.
On some level, he believed his father. These were the same lies the sheriff had fed him for years, served cold with every sneer, every withheld kindness, every calculated blow meant to shape him into something obedient and easy to command.
I wanted to reach for him. I needed to grab his hand, his sleeve, anything, and drag him back to me, back to the truth he was only just starting to trust. But my hands were full, literally shaking as I gripped the massive sword.
Its weight dug into my palms, my arms trembling violently from the strain.
My shoulders ached and each breath came sharp and uneven.
“Don’t listen to him,” I said, my words soft but desperate. “I want you with me, Baron. Stay with me.”
How I hoped he would stay far away from that dark place he’d been living in for so long.
“Son,” the sheriff hissed, “don’t be deceived! She’ll say whatever she has to in order to gain your trust, and then she will stab you in the back the first chance she gets. Robin Hood is a thief and a liar, and he’s clearly trained the girl to follow in his footsteps.”
I looked over at Father, but he didn’t so much as flinch at the insults. His hands were stained red with Little John’s blood as he worked to keep him breathing. He didn’t have attention to spare for petty slander, and right now, neither did I.
I stepped back next to Baron again, hoping he would know I was with him, right where I wanted to be. Baron set his jaw—a small movement, but solid as the drawing of a line in the dirt. “Robin Hood is a good man,” he said, voice low and steady. “I trust him.”
The sheriff’s eyes flashed with a predatory gleam.
Despite his receding hair and the lines that carved into his face, he radiated something sharp and lethal, like an old wolf whose teeth had never quite dulled.
My gaze locked on his right hand as it inched closer to the hilt of his sword.
It was sheathed for now…but only for now.
A drop of cold sweat slid between my shoulder blades.
If he unsheathed that blade and I had to face him in a duel, I knew I would lose within seconds.
I wasn’t foolish enough to pretend otherwise.
“Do you even hear yourself, Baron?” the sheriff snarled. “Have you forgotten what I taught you? Can you remember what I told you about Robin Hood? Just stop and think!”
“I am!” Baron stepped toward his father. “I’m finally realizing that you aren’t the hero you made yourself out to be, and Robin isn’t the villain you said he was. You’re the liar!”
“Lies! Lies! That thieving witch filled your head with lies!” Spit flew with every syllable.
“No, she didn’t!” Baron advanced another step, voice rising. “You’re the one who lied to me all these years! You told me Robin Hood was an outlaw with no honor. You said he robbed everyone for sport and sought to destroy everything we knew!”
“He is! He does!”
“He’s not! And he doesn’t!” Baron’s voice thundered through the trees. “Robin’s a better father than you ever were!”
The sheriff’s head snapped toward me so fast I almost flinched. His face contorted, writhing with something feral and hateful. “You! Devil’s spawn!” he spat. “You’ve turned my son against me! You’ll pay for this!”
He lunged a step forward, hand finally closing around his sword’s hilt.
My time was up.
Baron’s arm shot across my body and his fingers closed around the hilt of the sword I’d been struggling to hold aloft.
He tugged it free as though it weighed nothing.
The sudden lack of strain made my arms drop uselessly to my sides, muscles trembling with the memory of the burden.
Baron hefted the blade with effortless strength, the metal catching the light and flashing back at the sheriff.
A raw, fierce power radiated from him, the same terrifyingly magnificent force I’d seen the moment before he’d punched Dorian.
He leveled the sword at the sheriff, each word dropping heavy and deliberate. “Don’t ever touch her again. If you do, I swear I’ll kill you.”
He didn’t shout; he didn’t need to. The promise in his voice carried more weight than any roar of rage could have. He meant every syllable.