4. Baron
BARON
How on earth was this supposed to be fun?
I stood in the clearing beside my father’s corpse, sword heavy in my grip, the scent of iron thick in the air. Blood soaked the grass in dark, sticky patches and there was a feeling of deep unease hovering in the air. This place had become a stage, and right now, every detail mattered.
Several members of the Merry Men, including Laurel, lay scattered across the ground, perfectly still.
They had been arranged to look as though I’d cut them down in a blind, vengeful fury after Laurel murdered the Sheriff of Nottingham.
The lie was simple in theory. Two surviving members of my former platoon had been unconscious when it happened; they would know no different… But I still needed to convince them.
My only real fear was what they might do to the bodies of those feigning death. I couldn’t let them deal any retaliatory kicks or let them examine them too closely.
We’d smeared blood across Laurel’s clothes, across Will Scarlet’s chest, and along Lincoln’s neck.
Dale and Little John had already bled enough for the story to sell itself.
I forced myself to look at them. Lincoln’s limbs were twisted at unnatural angles, his body limp.
It was plenty convincing. Will Scarlet lay on his side, eyes closed, mouth slack, blood streaking his temple.
Laurel was face down in the dirt, red hair tangled and darkened with blood, the earth beneath her soaked nearly black.
I hated how real it looked. Something sharp and unwelcome twisted inside me, and I shoved the feeling down where it belonged.
If I faltered now, even for a second, this all unraveled.
If being calloused and unfeeling was what would protect Laurel, that is what I would do.
Little John and Will Scarlet looked dead enough, but Dale, the former minstrel, was a masterpiece.
He lay spread-eagled on his back, mouth open, eyes wide and glassy, looking utterly empty of life. I crouched beside him, studying his face. He didn’t betray a single flinch or even a blink. I waved a hand inches from his eyes.
Nothing.
“I’m not sure whether to be impressed or disturbed,” I whispered to him before rising and drawing a steadying breath before turning to the two of my former platoon members who still lived—Sebastian and Dominic.
I knew them both well enough. Sebastian had joined the ranks about a year before.
He had a sharp mind, was quick with a blade, and always followed my orders without complaint.
I liked him well enough; he made a good, obedient soldier.
The other was Dominic, the large, brutish thug who had been sent to kidnap Laurel in the first place.
He had an extensive criminal history and had spent a good deal of his adult life in and out of prison.
He was the kind of man drawn to power for all the wrong reasons, and I heartily disliked him.
I grabbed Sebastian’s shoulder and shook him. “Wake up, soldier.”
He groaned, stirred, and fell still again.
I stalked over to Dominic and kicked his boot, hard. “Up.”
Nothing.
Fine.
I collected a skein of icy water from the stream and flung it into Dominic’s face.
He came awake with a bellow, flailing and swearing.
I did the same to Sebastian, who gasped and sucked in air like a drowning man.
Both put their hands up to their heads, where they were certain to have excruciating headaches.
They blinked and squinted around at the bodies littering the clearing.
Sebastian wiped his face, fingers trembling, and winced as he touched the back of his head, where a large lump was swelling. Dominic flexed his arms and frowned, inspecting the half-healed gashes along his skin, his eyes narrowing when he felt the swelling at his skull.
“What happened?” Sebastian croaked.
“What do you remember?” I asked.
He squeezed his eyes shut. “We… we went looking for you and the girl. You’d been gone for weeks.”
“Deserter,” Dominic muttered.
I struck him across the face before the word had fully left his mouth. Dominic reeled backward so he was sprawled in the dirt again.
“I will not be spoken to like that,” I spat.
“Where were you, then?” Dominic snarled, spitting blood.
“Cleaning up your failures,” I snapped. “I went looking for the girl again. Everyone knew she’d free Robin Hood the moment she could and she did. She managed to pull off a jailbreak and now half our men are dead because of her.”
“So you failed in tracking her down,” Dominic pressed. He held his fingers up to his cheek, where a red impression of my hand was rapidly rising. “Didn’t you?”
“I caught up to her,” I said evenly. “And she escaped again. Is that shocking? She escaped everyone.”
“I caught her,” Dominic bragged. “First try, too. The sheriff should’ve had her chained to me. I’d have kept her in check.”
“Did you, though?” I folded my arms. “Or did she jump through a window and you claimed victory so no one would notice you let her slip away?”
Dominic’s mouth fell open. “How’d you know?”
“Because I think,” I snapped. “Which is a skill you clearly lack. I was tracking down all the men she released from the jailbreak when all of you caught up and assumed the worst. Why would I turn traitor to my own father?”
“Come off it. We know you set her free,” Dominic said.
My blood went cold but my face hardened.
“Does it look like I set her free?” I bellowed, pointing to Laurel’s unmoving body. “She murdered my father and I killed her for it.”
Sebastian stepped closer to Laurel, nudging her boot with his own.
I held my breath.
She didn’t move.
“You have to admit, Baron—” Sebastian began.
“Sheriff,” I corrected.
He blinked. “What?”
“Now that my father passed, I’m the Sheriff of Nottingham. Address me properly.”
He thought for a moment then nodded in obedient acceptance.
“You have to admit, Sheriff… the circumstances were suspicious. When she escaped from camp, she had been tied up with two guards watching her. Both guards were knocked out, the horses were released, and both of you were gone. It was logical to conclude that you ran off with her.”
I scoffed. “Just like I was supposedly pushed off a mountain path by a girl, yes? You remember when you all thought that? Brilliant minds, the lot of you.”
“Explain, then,” Dominic growled.
I drew a slow breath. “First, she was removed from my custody—”
“Because you were kissing her,” Dominic interrupted. “Don’t you remember that?”
“She was the one who kissed me,” I corrected coolly. “She kissed Sneeds too. And you remember how that ended. If my father hadn’t intervened, I’d probably be dead.”
“The sheriff said you looked comfortable.”
I shrugged. “Have you seen her? I’m not blind.
I’d like to see anyone else do better, if a beautiful girl threw herself all over them.
” My lip curled. “Not that it would ever happen to you. Besides, women were in short supply all winter at our camp. But I had backup before it went too far, which was something Sneeds lacked.”
Sebastian seemed satisfied but Dominic wasn’t.
“You should’ve known better.”
“I was reminded,” I said flatly. “And if you recall, I paid dearly for my moment of weakness. I still have the scars to prove it. Learn from my mistake—never trust women. Especially clever ones.”
“She didn’t escape alone,” Dominic insisted. “No one could.”
“That’s why I was the only one who could control her,” I snapped.
“Everyone underestimated her—Goric, Flavius, Dorian, and Sneeds. I told them to not underestimate Robin Hood’s daughter, but they didn’t listen then.
I have no idea what she did to escape, but whoever they put to guard her probably turned their back momentarily, and that was all she needed. ”
A shadow of doubt flitted across Sebastian’s face. “She was tied up though…”
“And she was chained when she overpowered Sneeds! She managed to find a way to break through solid iron chain links,” I roared.
“Then, when I go racing off to bring her back for a fourth time and intervene when Robin Hood’s men nearly killed you both, I’m blamed for her escape and called a traitor and deserter?
It’s an insult. I just saved your lives. ”
“Sorry, Sheriff, sorry,” Sebastian mumbled immediately. “We just didn’t know.”
“It would be prudent for you to think before you hurl accusations,” I told him in clipped tones, keeping my gaze locked onto Dominic’s mutinous face.
“Any fool could’ve heard the racket that girl made when she released all the horses that night.
When I heard it, I knew that she must have let them out to distract us so she could escape again, so I set off. ”
“Without telling anyone?” Dominic growled.
“You’re right,” I said sarcastically. “Perhaps I should have wandered around until I weighed the risks and benefits, then filled out paperwork requesting the assignment while our prisoner got farther and farther away with every minute. I assumed everyone would know that I was fetching her back to try and prevent the jailbreak. That’s my job.
It seems like I’m the only one who carries out my duties without direct orders from a superior, which is why I’m sheriff now.
I didn’t realize you were incapable of thinking or I would have left a note. Or can you even read?”
Dominic and Sebastian both dropped their gazes but I didn’t let up.
“Even my father wouldn’t allow her in his tent,” I snarled, pacing before them.
“He didn’t trust her and everyone else was terrified to be within a stone’s throw of that girl, and yet somehow I was expected to manage her.
I was compensating for an astonishing amount of incompetence from the lot of you.
” I swept an arm toward the bodies littering the clearing.
“Maybe instead of accusing your commanding officer, you should be thanking me for keeping you alive.”
I stopped in front of them, letting the silence stretch, heavy and suffocating.
“That girl escaped and came back with her father and every outlaw they released from prison. They tracked you down.” My voice rose.
“Even after most of our men were down, more of Robin Hood’s lot poured in.
And still, I dealt with it.” I gestured again, sharper now, toward the motionless forms of Laurel, John, Dale, Will, and Lincoln.
“If I were on their side, why are they the ones scattered across this meadow while you’re still breathing? Never question my loyalty again.”
Sebastian blinked, then frowned in concentration.
“I—I remember now,” he said slowly, turning to Dominic.
“I only saw one of Robin’s men fall at first. It was just the Sheriff against several of them.
Then Baron arrived.” His brow creased. “That witch knocked me out after that. Bar—” He flinched and corrected himself quickly.
“The sheriff must’ve finished them off.”
Dominic nodded, sluggish but convinced. The resistance drained out of him like blood from a wound. “Sorry,” he muttered. “We were wrong.”
“You better be sorry,” I snapped. “And don’t let it happen again.” I let the insult hang a moment longer, then waved them off. “Enough. You two go dig a grave for all the traitors. Keep it shallow—if the wolves find them, I won’t shed any tears.”
The rhythmic scrape of shovel against earth began almost immediately.
While they worked, sweating and grunting, I heaved the bodies of my father and his men onto a cart to be returned to their families, then attended to all the Merry men pretending to be dead and slid their bodies into coarse burlap sacks.
As I tugged a sack over Laurel, my hands hesitated.
“Can you breathe?” I murmured under my breath, low enough that only she could hear. “And you have a knife in there, right?”
One of her eyes cracked open. She flashed me that infuriating, fearless grin then went limp again. This girl would be the death of me.
I loosely tied the sack closed with shaking fingers and carried it to the others. At least now they would be able to blink and breathe more freely. Dominic and Sebastian leaned on their shovels, chests heaving, in front of a grave that yawned open, ready to swallow anything we put inside.
“Done already?” I said coolly.
Dominic spat to the side. “Don’t see the point of burying them at all. I say we leave them and let the wolves take them.”
Sebastian stiffened. “We’re better than that,” he said firmly. “Whether they were outlaws or not, we don’t leave bodies out for vultures. We have more honor than that.”
“Well said,” I replied, clapping him once on the shoulder before turning a sharp grin on Dominic. “Though if wolves find them later, we can still say we did our part.”
Dominic chuckled darkly.
“It’s more important that our own men are returned quickly,” I added. “Leave this grave unmarked. Common criminals don’t deserve remembrance.”
One by one and as carefully as I could, I lowered the sacks into the pit. Little John barely fit and I was forced to drag him to the pit. He landed with a dull thud that made my jaw clench. He was already injured. I told myself he’d forgive me if the ruse worked.
Laurel went in last, and I placed her down gently.
The moment the sack left my hands, I grabbed a shovel and began throwing dirt back into the grave in a frenzy.
The soil thudded down, each impact sounding far too final.
My palms burned and my arms shook. Every instinct I had screamed that this was wrong.
Whatever Robin Hood had said, this didn’t feel like a game.
I was burying Laurel alive.