Read Online Daughter of Sherwood by Laura Strickland - Free Book Online Page B

including Sally’s father and John, the senior member of their band. Alric sent word urging the outlaws to stay away from the hamlet for a time.
    “He also asked that you keep Sal here for now,” the lad reported. “’Tis not safe, with her father gone.”
    Sally, exhausted, still slept, but those gathered in a ring around the lad nodded gravely.
    “What news from Nottingham?” Martin asked.
    “None. Alric says if Sir Lambert or his men saw Mistress Lil beneath the oak, they gave no sign.”
    Martin sneered, “And how many of the Sheriff’s men did we successfully cull?”
    “Some say five, some more. ’Tis hard to tell, for they took their dead away with them.” The lad looked round at the circle of faces. “May I tell Alric and Adam you will keep Sally safe? And, Alric says, the wolfshead’s daughter, as well.”
    Sparrow felt Wren stiffen, but it was Martin who answered. “You may rely on it.”
    So, Sparrow thought bitterly, once the lad had gone, Martin thought to assign himself the role of Wren’s protector, did he? Had something significant happened between them last night, beneath the trees? Madlyn was right; Sparrow needed to talk to Wren and let her know it was her choice, and not Martin’s, that mattered.
    He saw his opportunity not long after, when Martin once more took Wren aside and presented her with something. Nothing could have kept Sparrow from walking over to see what.
    He caught but the end of Martin’s words, “—and I will instruct you in the use of it.”
    Sparrow narrowed his eyes on the object lying across Wren’s extended hands: Martin’s best knife, it was, the one stolen from Sir Guy himself, a treasure.
    Wren shot a look at Sparrow before she said to Martin, “I think I know how to use a knife. I lived in a kitchen.”
    “Not properly, you do not. Yesterday, you saw how quickly things can happen. You may need to defend yourself at any time.”
    Sparrow felt Wren’s impatience and frustration flare. “If anyone comes too near, I will stab him.” She stared at Martin meaningfully. “Anyone.”
    Martin, curse him, missed the message. “Look you, a blade is a fine weapon because ’tis silent and can be kept well concealed until it bites like an adder. The best places to strike are here, in the soft flesh under the jaw, or here, at the side of the throat.” Lightly, he touched Wren in both places; she shivered.
    Enough, Sparrow’s heart cried. He stepped forward. “A blade can also be turned against its user quite easily. That is dangerous. I can teach you how to throw—”
    Martin snapped, immediately, “I will teach her.”
    “—and how to shoot. You need a bow of your own.”
    “Everyone seems to know what I need!”
    “I can fashion a bow for her,” Martin declared, “and teach her—”
    Sparrow strove to clamp down on his own ire, and failed. “Should she not be taught by the best shot among us?”
    “For the sweet Lord’s sake,” Wren said, “do not begin with arguing again.”
    Martin ignored her. “She is Robin’s daughter. Do you not suppose she will be an excellent shot?”
    “No one is an excellent shot at the beginning.”
    “I will fetch my bow, and show you.”
    “You two will drive me mad!” The cry turned heads throughout the camp and at last served to silence Martin. “Leave me be,” Wren requested, and pushed past both of them.
    Martin immediately made to follow her and Sparrow put out a hand. “Did you hear her not?”
    “Aye, but she needs—”
    “Why not let her decide what she needs?”
    “You would like that, aye, so you can move in and sway her your way,” Martin sneered.
    “ She would like that—she demands it.” Sparrow stared into Martin’s wild eyes and tried to swallow his aggravation. “If you keep at her like a fox worrying after a hen, you will do naught but chase her off.”
    “Fool. There is no time to waste. Should something happen to Lil or Alric, we need to be ready to step into their places. Already