Lord of the Forest

by Kay Berrisford

  "What are you doing?" Robin's voice betrayed the strain of holding Odo down.

  Eyeing the parchments in Odo's writing, Cal scribed as fast as he dared. "I'm forging evidence of Odo's treason, of him offering Herne lordship when he is king. If the regent sees this, he'll sign Odo's death warrant and ply justice by the law of the land."

  "I can carry out that justice now." Robin growled, and Odo blanched.

  "No." Cal kept working, concentrating on forming the letters as Odo would. "You said he deserved to suffer. And believe me, if the regent executes him, it will shake up the barons a thousand-fold more than news of an outlaw committing murder."

  The scheme might just be brilliant. If the regent could destroy Odo, it could bully the rest of the barons into leaving the forest laws well alone. And despite Robin's many reasons for wanting Odo dead, Cal possessed a hunch Robin disliked killing enough to embrace this alternative.

  "Very well." Robin dragged Odo into a sitting position, not relinquishing the pressure of the blade. Cal completed the job as speedily as he could, fashioned the seal with wax from one of the altar candles, and offered it up to Robin and Odo.

  "Do it." Robin pricked Odo's skin with the blade, and a bead of blood rolled down his throat. Odo pressed his ring to the wax, his glower poisonous. Cal snatched the scroll away, blowing the molten seal to force it dry… then froze.

  The door had opened a crack and now flew wide. An auburn-haired servant rushed in, his knife drawn, followed by a single guard who clutched the pommel of his sword.

  Renewed panic clenched Cal's guts. How the hell had he imagined they'd get away with this? He dropped the vellum and grabbed the torch back from its wall bracket. He'd fight to the end, but damn, that might come soon.

  "Stay back," said Robin calmly. "Or the baron dies."

  Robin's determined tone soothed Cal, while the scene on the bed briefly commanded the newcomers. Cal drew a deep breath. He might survive, but not alone.

  The auburn-haired servant made a move, lunging toward Robin. Cal swung the torch against the man's bare hand. Flame licked flesh, and the knife clattered to the wooden floor.

  "I said stay back, Daniel." The thread of steel in Robin's voice set the servant flinching. Cal's jaw dropped.

  Daniel? Could it be that Daniel? Surely not the pure soul who'd died to allow Robin's escape? Regarding the man anew, Cal vaguely recognized him from the journey to the Greenwood, but his image fit Robin's love. Daniel was attractive in that robust fashion Cal admired and envied, his hair shining with a copper gleam. Those green eyes seemed soft and honest.

  "Daniel, close the door," said Robin, his voice hushed. Daniel obeyed. Cal moved to retrieve the fallen dagger, while Robin addressed the guard. "Strip your arms and livery and get in the chest, or your master dies."

  The guard wavered.

  Cal didn't. "Remember the murder of Lord Gregor Talbot? They hanged the guard on watch that night, though his wine had been drugged and there was nothing he could've done. I heard Lord Brock lauded the punishment, so if Odo dies, you've no chance."

  The guard removed his garb and sword belt, then clambered into the chest, the bulk of his body a tight squeeze. Cal shut the lid, fastening an outside bolt. Knowing he'd be useless wielding it, he kicked the glaive aside.

  Robin's gaze had locked on to Daniel. "You can still help us get out of here. It's not too late."

  Cal hitched his lip in disbelief. He didn't feel jealous, just alarmed. Daniel's sudden movement confirmed what his instincts told him. "Look out!"

  Daniel pulled a second blade from beneath the lacing of his boot and sent it flying through the air toward Robin's head. Robin tumbled back, dragging Odo with him. Daniel's knife narrowly missed its mark, but Robin lost his stranglehold on Odo. Baron and outlaw grappled, cussing and wrestling for supremacy.

  Cal raised the knife he'd retrieved from the floor and flung himself toward Daniel. "You bastard! You could have killed him."

  Daniel caught his wrist, holding him at bay. "I aimed for Odo."

  "You're a liar!" And if Cal knew anything, it was how to spot untruths. He smashed his knee up into Daniel's groin. Daniel howled but retained his grip on Cal. He thumped Cal with the side of his fist, hitting Cal's shoulder wound.

  Cal cried out but recouped fast, planning to head butt his assailant. Daniel pressed too close for Cal to gain leverage. He pried the knife from Cal's fist, grabbed the front of his tunic, and then slid the cold steel beneath his ribs.

  Daniel wrenched the knife out. Blood welled, soaking through Cal's clothes, and blackness veered in front of his eyes. He staggered, and then the flood tide of pain felled him. From his knees, he slumped forward onto his hands. A surge of agony snatched the strength from his shaking arms. He collapsed.

  Daniel wouldn't let him lie. The man Robin Hood had wept for rolled Cal over and raised the blade once more.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Robin heard Cal's cry, and fear distracted him. Though Robin straddled and pinned him, Odo seized the opportunity and yanked free the dagger they fought over. Robin grabbed Odo's wrist and strove to keep his enemy from stabbing straight between his eyes.

  Odo's thin features twisted like a gargoyle's. The effort of countering Robin seemed to consume him, and neither of them was able to push back or forth.

  Robin couldn't see Cal. Cal had fallen and needed him.

  Renewed strength fired from his core, breaking the deadlock. He wrested control of the weapon and punched Odo so hard his senses fled. Robin's knuckles smarted, and sorrow raked him as he jumped from the bed and plunged the point through Daniel's torso at the level of the heart.

  Impaled, Daniel froze. Robin seized the knife Daniel had been about to drive into Cal, shoving his former friend's slumping body aside. Only then did horror hold sway. Blood already drenched Cal's tunic. The damage had been done.

  Cal gulped. "I…I…"

  "No, don't try to speak." Robin ripped fabric from the bedding and pressed it to Cal's belly. Cal had turned grey, a thin sheen of sweat glistening on his brow.

  "Y-you've got to get out of here."

  "Shhhh." Robin fought a desperate urge to pull the stricken man into his arms. It wouldn't help. "We've got to stop the bleeding. I've seen fellows survive worse."

  "It…it hurts…so much."

  Cal sounded weak, and tears blurred Robin's vision. He abhorred Odo. Hated him with all he had, and his loathing for Daniel simmered close behind. Some men deserved no second chances, and now a single goal commanded him. "I won't let you die."

  Cal defied him with laboured, rasped breaths, and his eyes rolled up. A tentative tapping from within the wooden chest indicated the guard grew bold, and Robin swore. Odo might not be out cold for long, and while it would do Cal's injury no favours, they had to move. He touched Cal's cheek, rewarded with a flickering of lashes. Cal managed to look at him, and Robin picked up Cal's hand and placed it on top of the cloth. "Hold that to stay the bleeding. I'm getting us out of here."

  Quick as he could, he found the guard's discarded livery and sword belt, put both on, then retrieved Odo's cloak. Turned inside out, the mantle's woollen lining could pass for a lowlier man's garment and would do for Cal. Daniel's gown was sodden with gore, but Robin had little choice but to remove it from the body. If they'd any hope of making it past the guards, he needed something to pull over his head, and he hoped the gloom would mask the stain. He toughened his nerve against the task of stripping the body and tucked the bloody knife at his waist when he was done. He used the shackles Cal had released him from to restrain Odo, then took bleak satisfaction in hacking a piece of the embroidered bed linen to gag Odo. If he awoke before the guard drew attention to their plight, there'd be no shouting.

  Returning to Cal's side, he winced in sympathy, then sat him up. "I'm sorry."

  "No, I'm sorry. I—"

  "Shhh. Don't be." Robin helped Cal to his feet, wrapped Odo's mantle about him, and urged him toward the door.

  "Wait." Cal
gasped. "We need the scroll. I…I know you think badly of me, but I won't just run back to Marshal with it, I promise. I—"

  "Oh Cal, I don't think badly of you. You saved my life twice now, and I'm the one who needs to apologize." Cal furrowed his brow, seemingly mystified, and it struck Robin that Odo would have offered some irksome untruth about how and why Robin had been taken. "I came here for you. Now hush. Don't speak."

  A faint light leaped in Cal's watery eyes. Robin wanted to kiss him, anything to reassure him—and stop him from struggling to talk.

  "If we show Odo's seal to the guards at the gate," stuttered Cal, "a-and claim we're on his mission, we—"

  "We'll have a better chance of getting past? Alright." Robin brushed Cal's lips with his thumb. "Shhh now and remember. I understand everything. I think the world of you."

  He leaned Cal against the bed and snatched the bloodstained scroll from the floor. The banging from the chest got louder. Together, and as fast as Robin dared, they made for the corridor.

  It turned out to be empty, the sole movement coming from torches, the only noise the roar of merrymaking from the great hall. "Let's go," he whispered.

  They started down the passage toward a spiral staircase.

  *~*~*

  Call lolled his head forward, shielding his face beneath his hood. The effort of each tread seemed harder than the previous, and pain and shivers racked him. He clung to his salvation.

  Robin thinks the world of me.

  He wouldn't die content, but he'd glean some comfort from that.

  He held on to Robin with the same fading tenacity with which he pressed the rag to the wound in his side. They struggled down the stairs, then through a dim tunnel saturated with the odour of pottage and boiled vegetables. A servant hurried by, swigging ale. Cal feared he'd vomit, and swallowed bile.

  He couldn't understand what Robin said to the guards at the exit to the keep, consumed by the effort of standing unsupported. They'd started descending the steps of the motte when the lights from the town beneath faded, and his legs gave out.

  He anticipated the crack of his skull against stone. Instead warmth engulfed him. Robin pulled him back, slipped an arm beneath his knees, and lifted him.

  "Can you reach about my neck?"

  With an effort, Cal obeyed, hugging with all he could muster till they got to the bottom of the steps.

  "You should leave me," he murmured. "Go on alone."

  "I need to get you to the fair folk. They'll fix you."

  Fairies? He moaned. "They'll more likely finish me."

  "Just trust me," said Robin. "Do you think you can walk just a little farther? It will draw less attention to us in the town."

  Cal didn't know if he could but indicated he'd try. Robin placed him on his feet, hooked one arm through his, then brought the other across to brace his chest. They laboured on through the mud, a raucous song from a tavern echoing in their ears.

  It felt like an eternity before they reached the main gatehouse. The portcullis was down, the gates barred for the night. Cal's dread mingled with an aura of resignation. He'd never make it…but Robin? Robin had to. Cal refused to die in vain.

  Robin propped him by a stable and then proceeded to the guardhouse. Sliding down the wall, Cal gulped back the coppery tang of blood and closed his eyes. He'd never be able to get up again.

  "I carry a message from Baron Odo," Robin told the men. "It bears his seal and must be dispatched to his estates post-haste."

  The riot of Cal's thoughts drowned any answer. No messenger would set out for the northern shires on foot. The soldiers would suspect something.

  "We will purchase horses in Winchester," explained Robin. "After the recent troubles in the Greenwood, it's the baron's belief that walking through the forest draws less attention."

  Cal half-laughed, half-coughed. For an honest man, Robin Hood turned out a decent liar.

  Other words were exchanged. Then ropes strained, rusted hinges creaked, and Robin came back.

  "Come on." Robin coaxed Cal from where he'd curled on the ground. "You're going to be alright."

  Half a dozen yards stretched between Cal and the raising portcullis, the gates swinging open beyond. Once upright, the prospect of crossing them rivalled treading barefoot across hot coals. He'd managed two steps when a shout rose from the streets behind.

  "Murder! Baron Odo is attacked and a servant slain. None can leave!"

  A bell clanged, and a cacophony of voices grew louder and nearer.

  "Damn," muttered Robin and let him go. Cal tumbled to the dirt and then gaped up at the portcullis like a prisoner who'd spotted his executioner's axe.

  The glint of steel grabbed his attention. Beside him, a scene unfolded, wonderful and dreadful in equal measures. Sword flashing, Robin battled off three attackers at once, each stabbing and lunging for him with poleax and glaive. He smashed through a spear with a splintering blow, keeping them at bay with nimble footwork and superior skill. He forced his assailants back beneath the portcullis so it couldn't be dropped and even laughed drily as he did it.

  "You dare take on Robin Hood? No man has stopped me yet!"

  It was just like the stories, but a dozen more enemies would be on them any moment. Cal couldn't bear to watch. He sank his face to the mud, wondering if his friend had fallen yet. He heard the crunch of a fist against another man's bones, the snort of a stallion, and expected to be trampled.

  He cried out when Robin seized the back of his cloak, then hauled him up onto a horse. He conjured the energy to drag his leg over and sit.

  Robin jumped up behind. "Go, boy!"

  The stallion galloped forward, and the metal grid smashed down, surely brushing the end of the animal's swishing tail. A groaning sound indicated the guards were raising the drawbridge, but with a leap, the stallion carried them beyond, crashing down on the stony track, then charging forward into the night.

  "They'll come after us," said Robin, holding Cal fast. "Let's hope this fellow can soar like an eagle."

  The horse proved swift, though Cal nigh wished he were not. Every movement seared his guts like a fresh gash from the knife, and his head throbbed. They'd no chance of losing themselves under the shroud of darkness. The near full moon lit the sky, and they forged headlong into a battering gale. Soon arrows whistled near their ears, the wind their ally in sending the shots wide, but their pursuers closed in behind. Cal considered telling Robin to dump him again but saved his breath. Robin wouldn't, and their only hope lay in the dark line of forest that glowered on the horizon.

  It looked too far. They'd never make it. They'd be gained on, or an arrowhead would lame the horse, even if they were not struck themselves, and…

  Oh hell, even if they reached it, he couldn't die in the Greenwood that hated him. The Wild Men would drink all that remained of his blood, then make him their wraith.

  But Robin was taking him there. And he trusted Robin. It would…be…alright.

  Cal's consciousness faded into a realm of agonized bumping and jerking. He longed for death, for stillness, till the horse reared and stumbled to a halt. He forced his eyes wide. Had they been cut off, caught?

  A huge man on a black stallion blocked their path, a broadsword raised in one hand. His mighty antlers spread toward the starry sky.

  Herne the Hunter shifted his mount to let them past. Robin hailed him. "Thank you. We are in much need of your help, friend."

  "I'm no man's friend," shouted Herne. "The Goddess commands none shall live to catch thee. Now ride like a hurricane, you fool."

  Robin didn't need telling twice. The dash of the horse set Cal lurching more violently, and he feared he'd tumble.

  "Stay with me," said Robin. "We're nearly there."

  The taste of autumn leaves filled his dry mouth. Then the repeated clack of the horse's hooves against clay relinquished to the gentler impact of a mossy woodland floor, and swaying trees shaded the moon.

  For better or worse, they'd made it. Cal knew he couldn't rema
in with Robin any longer, however much he wished it. His breath drained, and he slipped away, surrendering to the darkness.

  *~*~*

  "Elfaene? Sweet spirits? Anyone—can you help us?"

  Beyond the wind in the trees, the silence felt suffocating. Not even the howl of a wolf. Nobody was coming. They didn't seem to care, and Robin despaired of them all. He carried Cal beneath the spreading canopy of a chestnut tree, kicked away the fallen nuts, and laid him on a bed of leaves and turf.

  Squinting in the poor light, he tore a fresh rag of cloth from his clothes and pressed it to the wound. He knew it was too little, too late unless a healer arrived soon. Cal had felt horribly fragile, the indomitable strength he repeatedly forced through his slim body all gone. A man robust as an ox couldn't survive such loss of lifeblood.

  Cal would die. It couldn't be long now. As carefully as he could, Robin lifted him and cradled him across his lap. He stroked his hair. "Can you hear me?"

  Cal shifted his lips restlessly, and Robin hoped he'd grasp the truth.

  "I'm sorry. I really am. I never gave you a chance to explain, but I understand everything. And you have to understand too. You're a good man, Cal. You were my friend, though nobody had ever been one to you. I've never known anyone to fight so hard to do right, and against such obstacles."

  No answer. A trickle of blood escaped the corner of Cal's mouth.

  "Oh Goddess, please. He doesn't deserve this."

  Robin dabbed Cal's lips and gently hugged him, praying for each new shallow breath. He'd watched many men depart the earthly realm, friends and lovers. He'd wept for each and every one, but like rolling in the bracken, with Cal this felt different.

  "I never gave you a chance," he repeated. Or maybe that wasn't it. Cal had been no angel, though he'd undeniably become a hero. Robin yearned to learn so much more about him, and he would have—if they'd had but a day together without mistrust and arguments. "We never had a chance."