Chapter 1
Chapter one
Saffron & Scarlett
Ten Years Later
That had to be the last of the squash, I mused, burying my toes deep into the rich soil of the Abbey garden.
If any others had escaped my notice, perhaps they deserved to remain where they’d grown.
They would only become a meal for the next hungry creature to wander past, and I was more than satisfied with that.
I heaved the wicker basket onto my arm, where it groaned from the weight of the ripe vegetables I’d spent the afternoon collecting.
My mouth began to water when I imagined Sister Evetta’s roasted, saffron-dusted squash, then reminded myself to make sure our saffron supply was not too low.
I wasn’t sure if I could survive a harvest feast without it.
As I stepped gingerly between rows of leafy vines, a small green moth landed on the handle of my basket.
I stopped and smiled, slipping a finger beneath its delicate, furry body and lifting it to my face.
Not one of the Huntress moths that were regular guests at my bedroom window, with their elegant spots and tails, but a beautiful little creature nonetheless.
“You are a bit late in the season, my friend,” I admonished. “The hard work was done by your brothers and sisters months ago.” The moth just twitched its feathery antennae, then fluttered away on a breeze that ruffled the errant curls sticking out from under my kerchief.
“You keep talking to bugs that way and folk will think you’ve gone mad,” someone called across the garden.
I turned toward the gate and smiled at the sight of Will leaning against a fencepost, a bouquet of wildflowers in his hand.
It had been over a week since I’d last seen him, and it was clear he’d been spending most of that time outdoors, training for the Prince’s Tournament.
Gauze covered the bowstring calluses on his fingers, and his skin, normally ruddy, was now sun-kissed.
My heart even dared to flutter as the wind teased his dark golden hair, which fell to his shoulders in tangled waves.
“The bugs are quite innocent,” I said as I walked toward him.
“If folk think me mad, it is because of my association with you, Will Scarlett.” He put a hand to his chest and stumbled back a pace, as if I had wounded him.
From across the garden, Sister Anna looked up and planted her gloved hands on her hips.
“Miss May’s got work to do, you vagrant boy!” she shouted, voice light with subdued affection.
Will just laughed and called back, “That’s why I’m here, my darling Anna!” He opened the gate and pulled the basket of squash off my arm as I came through, then greeted me with a chaste kiss on the cheek. I took the wildflowers he offered and held them under my nose.
“You came with flowers, but not my—” Before I could finish, he reached into his pocket and took out a drawstring linen bag. The scent of fresh, honey-roasted almonds hit me like a thunderclap and my stomach rumbled.
“I always know how to make my girl happy, don’t I?” Will said, playfully dangling the bag in front of me. I snatched it from him and slipped it into my apron pocket as we walked toward the Abbey’s main building.
“On a day this warm, not having to carry that basket is making me happier than anything else,” I laughed, pulling my kerchief off and using it to wipe the sweat from my face and neck.
It was unusually hot for that strange time between summer and autumn, when the earth felt like it was coming home to rest after a weary day.
“Were you in the infirmary this morning?” asked Will in a rather conspiratorial tone.
“No, I was blessedly given an entire day in the garden,” I replied. “Somehow, all the boatmen in Nottingham managed to keep themselves out of trouble last night.”
“Well, it’s a good thing,” Will chuckled.
I raised an eyebrow as I waited for him to finish his dramatic pause.
“Because someone set every hog in the bailey loose onto the tournament grounds last night. They tore it to pieces, and two of my father’s men were bitten.
I thought they might’ve ended up in your care, but I’m glad you had the day off. ”
“Oh, your father must be in a state,” I breathed, covering my mouth and trying desperately not to laugh.
“He’s had every watchman in the city down there all morning fixing it up, shoveling hog shit,” Will laughed. “Good thing His Royal Highness won’t be back until tonight.”
“Did they catch the mastermind behind this dastardly hog liberation front?” I giggled. “Or is he blaming this one on the notorious ‘Robin Hood’ as well?”
As much as I feared the Devil of Arden, I couldn’t deny the somewhat sick pleasure I got from the constant petty crimes and mischief committed against Nottingham’s lawmen in his name.
The preoccupation with Robin Hood allowed Will some respite from his father’s demands, and a chance of slipping away to come visit me.
Besides that, it gave me the rare opportunity to wallow in petty spite, since there was no one I hated more than Sheriff Osric Scarlett.
“Well,” said Will slowly, glancing around to make sure none of the Sisters were nearby, “that’s the thing.” He pulled a folded piece of parchment from his pocket and passed it to me. Carefully, I lifted one corner, if only to confirm my suspicions.
“Will!” I chided. “You can’t steal official Reward posters!”
“My father won’t want this one up, trust me. It was found in the royal box on the tournament grounds. Open it.” He guided me into the shadow of the Abbey as I unfolded the page and let a small hiss slip between my teeth.
The Reward poster was for the Devil of Arden.
Thankfully, no face had been drawn—I sometimes wondered if I was the only person who had ever seen him—but an extensive list of his misdeeds was printed at the bottom, alongside a generous sum being offered for information leading to his capture.
In the upper corner of the poster, however, was a short poem scrawled in bright red ink, the handwriting messy and sharp:
No crown for the pig on the throne,
No mouse for the snake in the grass,
No bone for the hound on their chain,
‘Til he pulls the pig’s head from his ass.
Beneath the poem was a crude sketch of a pig standing upright, a crooked crown on his head, doing something unspeakably vulgar to a dog wearing a Sheriff’s badge. Around the pig’s neck, performing some sort of erotic strangulation, was a snake in an Archbishop’s hat.
“Oh, for the love of all that’s holy,” I sighed. “Surely your father doesn’t believe this was faerie trickery? It seems like a puerile boatman prank.”
“I would think so too, except the poster was stuck right to the Prince’s throne with another one of those arrows—the ones with the red fletching.
My father’s taken them to every fletcher in the city, every butcher and hunter and trapper too.
None of them know what type of bird the feathers come from, and they aren’t dyed or painted either. ”
“It’s just a trick,” I said quietly.
“For someone who has actually met the Devil of Arden and lived to tell about it, you seem awfully unconvinced of his existence,” Will replied with a frown, hefting the basket of squash in his arm.
My eyes widened and my heart set off at a wild, erratic pace as I glanced around.
For all their virtues, the Sisters did love to eavesdrop, especially on Will Scarlett.
“Hush!” I whispered, then ducked through a low doorway into a cool stone corridor and allowed my body to sag with relief, even if my heart was still hammering.
Will followed. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.”
“It’s alright,” I assure him, mustering up a smile. “I’m just worn out, and those squash need to be delivered to the kitchen quickly…if I’m going to have time to wash.”
“Oh, you know I don’t mind,” he said in a low voice, his free hand grasping my arm so he could gently push me against the wall.
“Will…” I pressed my hand to his chest and met his hazel eyes. They stared down at me, wide and hungry, sending ripples of desire through my stomach. “Not here. You know better.”
“I might know better,” he replied, snaking his hand around to give my backside a quick squeeze, “but it doesn’t mean I care.”
I loosed a weak giggle and pulled away from him, quickening my pace down the corridor.
“I’d give all the gold crowns in Nottingham to have seen your father’s face when he found that drawing,” I said, hoping a change of subject would tame the roaring heat in my body.
“They’ll write it in the history books, I’m sure,” Will chuckled.
“I’ve never seen him so furiously purple.
” He followed me into the Abbey kitchens at a more respectful distance, and we found Sister Teodora already blustering up a storm at her young assistants.
Thankfully, I was long-since banned from helping in the kitchens, due to my affinity for insects and inability to follow directions.
“Ah, there she is, our wayward gardener!” the old Sister huffed when she spotted me. “And the boy too, naturally. Tsk tsk. How fortunate you are, Mister Scarlett. When I was May’s age, menfolk weren’t permitted to enter the Abbey grounds at all.”
“Your Sister Superior has a weak spot for me,” said Will with a cheeky grin.
Teodora just scowled at him and took the basket of squash.
“Saffron?” I asked quickly before the cook became distracted again.
“Enough to choke an ox, child,” Teodora said with a gap-toothed smile. “I know you could eat a pound of it.”
“You sweet, wonderful thing,” I cooed, kissing her on the cheek.
“Is a pound of saffron all it takes to get a kiss from you?” Will asked. “And I thought honeyed almonds were the key.”
“Sister Jazmina, would you escort Mister Scarlett to the front door, please?” Teodora said brusquely, raising an eyebrow. “I believe May has evening prayers and supper to prepare for.” One of the younger Sisters gave a shallow curtsey and led us out of the kitchens.