Read Online The Two Torcs by Debbie Viguié - Free Book Online Page A

curiosity. Locksley kept his hand up, standing in place as he turned the revelation over in his mind.
    King John would reward him generously for this information, yet what could be done with it?
    Robin remained in Sherwood, unreachable, secure in the labyrinth of the mighty forest. His father was gone with King Richard, his siblings dead, and his only other relative, well… working directly for John. There was no leverage that might draw him out.
    That wasn’t entirely true. There were the people in Locksley’s charge at Longstride Manor, but Robin had given his warning. If harm came to them, Robin would kill him, even if it meant his own death in the process. Victory meant nothing if he wasn’t around to savor it.
    No, knowledge was power. He knew Robin’s secret. He would hold that weapon until it could best be wielded.
    He dropped his hand and nodded to the king’s man, striding forward as the door was pulled open. The throne room was gloomy, the walls covered in long sections of dark cloth. The last time he’d been there the walls had been blank, expanses of bare stone marked by light areas where once had hung ancient tapestries that depicted scenes of history and religion, tapestries put in place by King Richard, by his father before him, and his father’s father before that.
    King John had removed them in his first month as acting king.
    The room’s only light came from a ring of guttering lamps, mounted on iron poles around the dais of the throne. The dull blue flames in them jerked and spat sparks against the insides of their globes.
    People were gathered around the throne. They were far enough away to be indistinct, although he recognized John by the ridiculous scepter he always clutched while holding court, as if it conferred weight to his station. Near him was the dark spot that was the Sheriff of Nottingham. The man looked like an obsidian blade with his black armor and his streak of lightning-white hair.
    As he approached the people they turned toward him. With each step the lateness weighed heavier on him. He had many complaints about King Richard, but the man had never called him to attention at such an ungodly hour.
    King John tilted his head, wide crown sliding on his dark brow.
    “Glad you could come,” he said, sarcasm edging his voice, and he indicated two men who knelt beside the throne. Their hands were bound, their heads bowed. One of them wore a blue tabard. He couldn’t see the insignia, but he knew in his heart of hearts it was a rampant lion. “Some of your friends have returned.”
    The heavyset man raised his head. Locksley’s stomach tightened at the sight of the familiar face.
    Mendly Mercroft, seller of goods and items of curiosity.
    The man he’d tasked with trying to kill the Hood in ambush.
    Locksley cursed in his own mind.
    The last to turn toward him was the Sheriff, pivoting on his heel and stepping aside.
    Seated behind him, obscured from view, was Lady Glynna Longstride.
    Locksley cursed out loud.
    Lady Glynna giggled.
    He was stunned that she was alive. The summer plague had claimed her daughters, and he’d thought it had taken her, as well—but here she was, bright-eyed, fair-skinned, her hair luxurious against her bosom…
    …and immensely pregnant.
    Her belly jutted out from her tall, athletic frame, swollen to enormous proportions, the size of it pulling her skin taut and thin so that light blue veins marbled the entirety of it. Her blouse had been pulled up over it, leaving it exposed like a pale moon rising over the horizon.
    Thin, squiggling symbols had been painted on its surface in curving lines. They pulled at his eyes, one row of flame-script pulling his eye left and another pulling it right. His eyes began to water and he had to blink and look up at her face.
    Alive
, he thought,
and with child. It cannot be.
He’d seen her just a few months back, when he’d sought to collect taxes on her household. She’d shown no sign of it then. Could this be