Read Online Mark of the Black Arrow by Debbie Viguié - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Debbie Viguié
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brothers and no man seeks to commit violence upon another.”
Locksley’s chest bumped against Will’s hands.
“Out of my way, Scarlet,” he growled. “I have business with that craven scoundrel.”
Will dug in his feet, pushing back.
“Let’s let cooler heads prevail,” he said.
“You attacked my men,” Locksley said over Will’s shoulder.
“They attacked a boy,” Robin responded.
“One of them has disappeared, and another will never hold a sword again.”
“Yet he will live, and that’s more than might have been said for the boy had I not arrived when I did.”
Again Locksley pushed against Will’s hands. “You may run through the woods like a wildling, but you will not get away with assaulting my men. You will be taught your lesson.”
Robin watched Locksley’s men as they began working their way to the left and the right, circling him. With only the skinning knife to defend himself, he’d have to kill at least one of them. The thought sat in his mind, squatting and strange, pushing up against the back side of his brain.
I’ll need to take a man’s life.
He had been taught that life was sacred, even the lives of simpletons who were stupid enough to swear allegiance to a man such as Locksley. Yet he would not submit himself to them, and so blood would be shed.
A crowd gathered, people drawn by the voices raised just outside the castle gate. It wouldn’t take long for the commotion to draw the attention of the guards or, worse, his father.
This needs to end.
“If you have such a grievance against me, perhaps we should speak with King Richard,” Robin said, taking a deep breath. “I’m sure that when he hears that your men have been levying a tax on
his
road, in
your
name, that he will be most interested.”
He studied Locksley’s face, looking for the moment when the other man would choose just how far he was going to push things. He kept his hand on the skinning blade, muscles tensed and ready. Whatever happened next, it was Locksley’s choice. Robin’s conscience would be clear.
A sudden footstep sounded behind him, strong and filled with confidence. He knew it so well he did not need to turn.
“My brother is in need of being taught many lessons,” the newcomer said. “He is stubborn. I have tried for many years to soften his hard head, and have learned the futility of my efforts. What I do not need to be taught, however, is the value of loyalty—to my blood and to my king. Speak your grievances to me, or stand aside.”
Locksley paled. There wasn’t a man alive who had the will to challenge Robert Longstride, favorite agent of the king and deadliest sword in the land.
“Little brother, do you have anything to add?” Robert asked.
“Only this,” Robin said, fixing his eyes on Locksley. “From this day forth, the Millers are under my protection.
Any
harm occurs to them and
you
will answer for it tenfold.”
Locksley turned red. He was angry and embarrassed, but he wasn’t stupid. He turned and, without another word or a backward glance, he strode into the castle. His men scurried behind him.
“Why did you say that?” Will asked.
“Because Locksley is a fool, and a proud one,” Robin said. “He cannot touch me, but I can see him harming the boy or his family in some sort of childish retaliation.”
At that moment Robert stepped up. A giant of a man, he stood nearly half a foot taller than his younger brother, and there was no one in the land with a more regal bearing—save King Richard himself. Like the rest of their family, save Robin, Robert was fair-haired.
“I thought your threat was a nice touch,” he said, his voice jovial as he put a hand on Robin’s shoulder.
“I’m surprised Father hasn’t already informed the king of Locksley’s activities,” Robin said. “If he had, perhaps the boy wouldn’t have needed saving.”
“Nor you tonight, eh?” Robert added with a grin.
Robin sighed, but said nothing. He exchanged a glance with Will.
Locksley’s chest bumped against Will’s hands.
“Out of my way, Scarlet,” he growled. “I have business with that craven scoundrel.”
Will dug in his feet, pushing back.
“Let’s let cooler heads prevail,” he said.
“You attacked my men,” Locksley said over Will’s shoulder.
“They attacked a boy,” Robin responded.
“One of them has disappeared, and another will never hold a sword again.”
“Yet he will live, and that’s more than might have been said for the boy had I not arrived when I did.”
Again Locksley pushed against Will’s hands. “You may run through the woods like a wildling, but you will not get away with assaulting my men. You will be taught your lesson.”
Robin watched Locksley’s men as they began working their way to the left and the right, circling him. With only the skinning knife to defend himself, he’d have to kill at least one of them. The thought sat in his mind, squatting and strange, pushing up against the back side of his brain.
I’ll need to take a man’s life.
He had been taught that life was sacred, even the lives of simpletons who were stupid enough to swear allegiance to a man such as Locksley. Yet he would not submit himself to them, and so blood would be shed.
A crowd gathered, people drawn by the voices raised just outside the castle gate. It wouldn’t take long for the commotion to draw the attention of the guards or, worse, his father.
This needs to end.
“If you have such a grievance against me, perhaps we should speak with King Richard,” Robin said, taking a deep breath. “I’m sure that when he hears that your men have been levying a tax on
his
road, in
your
name, that he will be most interested.”
He studied Locksley’s face, looking for the moment when the other man would choose just how far he was going to push things. He kept his hand on the skinning blade, muscles tensed and ready. Whatever happened next, it was Locksley’s choice. Robin’s conscience would be clear.
A sudden footstep sounded behind him, strong and filled with confidence. He knew it so well he did not need to turn.
“My brother is in need of being taught many lessons,” the newcomer said. “He is stubborn. I have tried for many years to soften his hard head, and have learned the futility of my efforts. What I do not need to be taught, however, is the value of loyalty—to my blood and to my king. Speak your grievances to me, or stand aside.”
Locksley paled. There wasn’t a man alive who had the will to challenge Robert Longstride, favorite agent of the king and deadliest sword in the land.
“Little brother, do you have anything to add?” Robert asked.
“Only this,” Robin said, fixing his eyes on Locksley. “From this day forth, the Millers are under my protection.
Any
harm occurs to them and
you
will answer for it tenfold.”
Locksley turned red. He was angry and embarrassed, but he wasn’t stupid. He turned and, without another word or a backward glance, he strode into the castle. His men scurried behind him.
“Why did you say that?” Will asked.
“Because Locksley is a fool, and a proud one,” Robin said. “He cannot touch me, but I can see him harming the boy or his family in some sort of childish retaliation.”
At that moment Robert stepped up. A giant of a man, he stood nearly half a foot taller than his younger brother, and there was no one in the land with a more regal bearing—save King Richard himself. Like the rest of their family, save Robin, Robert was fair-haired.
“I thought your threat was a nice touch,” he said, his voice jovial as he put a hand on Robin’s shoulder.
“I’m surprised Father hasn’t already informed the king of Locksley’s activities,” Robin said. “If he had, perhaps the boy wouldn’t have needed saving.”
“Nor you tonight, eh?” Robert added with a grin.
Robin sighed, but said nothing. He exchanged a glance with Will.
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