The Greenwood Shadow

by Sara Ansted

  "Had enough?" he sneered.

  She swung at him, but it was slow and half-wild. He batted it away with contempt. Her back hit the wall. She was pinned.

  "Really, my dear. Let's stop pretending. We both know how this is going to end."

  She stabbed at his stomach. In one deft movement he hooked his blade under her crosspiece and yanked the sword from her hand. It skidded into the darkness of the tunnel. Evey sucked in a sharp breath and braced herself for the killing blow.

  "Oh, I'm not going to kill you," he whispered. "Yet. I have quite a bit that I want to do first. I hear that heated spikes are particularly painful."

  The sword was at her throat again, and he put his face so close that she could smell him. He still wore several fancy perfumes, this time mixed with the scent of sweat, blood, and dirt. Before he pulled away, she slammed her knee into his groin as hard as she could.

  He bent double for a moment. It was all she needed. Evey slipped away from the wall and dashed for her bow.

  In a somewhat breathless voice, Sir Guy yelled, "Stop!"

  Evey turned. He had reached Isaiah before she had gotten her bow, and dragged him into the center of the chamber. Isaiah's hands were bound. He struggled against Sir Guy, but it was no good. Sir Guy placed his sword tip under Isaiah's chin.

  "Throat? No. Much too quick." He moved the point down. "Lung? Tempting. It would be agony, but no. Still too fast. Ah, yes. The stomach. If I do this properly, he could live for days. And you, my lady, will see every agonizing moment of it."

  She charged at him, but he brought up his sword point with absurd ease. She had to check herself or risk impalement. She willed her bow to fly into her hands. She would give anything to save Isaiah's life. Even take three crossbow bolts.

  In a flash of inspiration, she knew what had to happen.

  "Leave him," she muttered.

  "What was that, dear Marion?"

  "Take me instead. Do whatever you want to me. Kill me slowly in your torture rooms. I don't care anymore. Just let him go. Let him escape and I'll come quietly."

  Isaiah yelled something through his gag and shook his head. Evey looked away. Those piercing eyes were too much.

  Gisbourne looked startled. "You'd give your life for his? Precious."

  Evey nodded. Isaiah struggled some more, but she kept her eyes fixed on Sir Guy.

  "You see, things really don't have to be as complicated as you like to make them. I would enjoy hurting him, but you're the one I want. Alright. The boy stays here. You come with me."

  Evey nodded again. She forced the tears back.

  "It's cute, but stupid," Sir Guy said casually. He turned away from Isaiah. "Now you see what attachment gets you. Love is the worst kind. People will do the most imbecilic things in the name of love."

  Evey clenched her fists and her teeth. Maybe he was right for once. If only she had left Isaiah in the woods that day. Sir Guy would have no leverage over her. She wouldn't even be in the tunnel to start with. There was so much pain.

  A tear crept out and ran down her cheek.

  "Regretting your choice?" Sir Guy asked dryly.

  She stood up straight and fixed him with her most intimidating glare. "Never."

  No, he wasn't right. There was pain involved, but there was a whole lot of good too. Isaiah was better than she was in every imaginable way. She could face death if it meant that he lived. This time she really was ready for it.

  Sir Guy raised his eyebrow. "Well, get on with it, then. Down the tunnel."

  She started slowly for the tunnel. Gisbourne grinned and threw Isaiah bodily to the ground, where he lay unmoving. Evey choked back a cry. He'd be okay. At least she'd saved him.

  Sir Guy grabbed the back of her cloak and whispered right into her ear.

  "Killing you slowly is going to be the highlight of this whole affair." He pressed the sword tip right into her spine. "Oh, and don't worry. The king is still mine. Don't think you've stopped me."

  "No!" she cried, but the sword kept her from struggling.

  "The boy goes free, for now. But I'll keep him in mind, unless you do exactly as I say. Now move."

  Gisbourne shoved her forward. The instant he stepped in behind her, Isaiah threw himself into both of them. He kicked the back of Sir Guy's knees, dropping the knight hard to the ground. Moving entirely on instinct, Evey dove bodily for her bow. It was yards away. Isaiah might even be dead before she reached it, but it was too late to look back.

  Her hand closed around the yew wood. In the same instant, she turned and drew an arrow from her quiver. Gisbourne yanked Isaiah to his feet, using him as a shield. He had a long dagger to the young man's throat. Evey nocked her arrow.

  "I wouldn't do that if I were you," Sir Guy threatened. He pulled Isaiah closer and pressed the dagger even more firmly.

  Her throat burned. Her hands shook. She kept the arrow pointed at Sir Guy, but slackened the draw.

  "Funny, isn't it?" he asked, again in that mocking tone. "You'd throw away your life so rashly, and yet you cower at the thought of hurting this boy."

  I'm nothing," she said in a choked voice. "I don't matter. He does. He could change the world."

  Isaiah looked upset. Evey was utterly perplexed. She had just complimented him.

  Sir Guy just laughed. "Humans. So flawed. So strange."

  "You said he could go," Evey insisted.

  "Yes, but you weren't holding a bow before. I'm afraid the deal has changed. Put it down and walk into the tunnel. This knife stays at his throat until we're well away from here."

  "No!"

  She cast about for a solution, but her panicked mind made it impossible to think of anything clearly. Her eyes became moist, and her mouth even drier. Angrily she brushed the water from her eyes, and re-aimed. She pulled the arrow to a full draw, but still did not release it.

  "Your aim is good, I know. But that good? Could you really live with yourself, knowing that you fired the arrow that killed him?"

  Her breathing quickened.

  "I thought not. How quaint."

  She wanted to yell every expletive that she knew. Sir Guy himself was cowering behind an eighteen year old boy. Isaiah was short for a man, even a young man, and Sir Guy had to crouch pitifully to hide himself properly.

  Even if she had a target, it would be far too easy to force Isaiah into the path of the arrow. The only part of the treacherous man she could see was the top of his head. His eyes peered over Isaiah's matted hair, watching her with a gleeful expression. He laughed again.

  "Put the bow down."

  Her arms shook with the effort of keeping the bow drawn. Beads of sweat formed on her face. She had to choke back the tears that would otherwise cloud her vision.

  Isaiah couldn't speak, but his face was calm. His eyes told her to shoot. She didn't trust herself. She couldn't do it. But he did. He trusted her.

  She knew what she had do. She took a steadying breath and released the arrow, keeping her eyes open only long enough to see Sir Guy fall to the ground.

  CHAPTER FORTY

  When she woke, Evey found Isaiah supporting her while John bandaged her leg. Will was still unconscious, but seemed to be alive. One glance at the still form of Sir Guy brought back all the thoughts that had been running through her head minutes earlier.

  She felt utterly weak and pitiful. Without any reserve, she hid her face in Isaiah's shoulder and started to cry. Isaiah looked stunned, but wrapped his other arm around her and held her close until she had exhausted her supply of tears.

  When she could speak again, she mumbled, "All that stuff he said..."

  "Doesn't matter. He's a snake. He knew what to say to make you doubt."

  "But what if I had... had..."

  "You wouldn't have. No one can shoot better than you," he replied soothingly.

  "But he might have–"

  "Nah. He couldn't lift me. The worst that would happen is he'd duck and you'd miss. Yo
ur hands knew what they were doing, even if your mind didn't."

  She gently touched the bruises on the side of his face. "Are you okay?"

  "Yeah. Nothing's broken. Just a little beat up."

  She nodded.

  After a while, a troop of the king's knights found their way down the tunnel. They took care of rounding up the rogue knights who had survived the fight. Most were unconscious and a few were nearly so, because of their wounds.

  Evey felt distinctly separated from reality. She found herself being officially pardoned by the king, and honored in front of the entire royal court. In her most far-fetched dreams, she had never seen herself standing in front of the king's throne. Even if she had foreseen it, she wouldn't have pictured wearing a torn, blood-stained cloak and mask.

  The next few days passed in a surreal blur. There was a feast in their honor, and she was even rewarded with a sizable sum of gold. This, at least, was something that she knew exactly how to use. When she took the giant sack, she glanced at Isaiah who had a similarly mischievous look on his face.

  Before she even had time to think, three days had passed, and she was on her way home. Home seemed like such a distant thing after weeks of death-defying adventure. She wasn't sure what life would be like after all that. Different, certainly, but how?

  The parting with Will and John at the crossroads was harder than she expected. They said several goodbyes, and made promises to see each other again. When they finally broke apart, Evey glanced at the road ahead and realized how lonely it was going to be. She dismounted and turned to Isaiah for a more private goodbye, but found him still on his horse.

  "Where are you going?" he asked with a grin.

  "Me? Where are you going? You live here too."

  "I know. But I figured we ought to get in one last round." He held up his sack of gold, and Evey couldn't help but smile back.

  On reaching the villages that they knew so well, they spent all that day and most of the next handing out gold. Every single house in four different settlements got something, and there was still a little left. Evey saved some for Emeric, who she thought deserved it more than many. Their last stop was Alaine and Gwin's tiny cottage.

  Just like the last time, Gwin was home, and her mother was out tending to the scant plot of land that they were trying to harvest. Without bothering to sneak around, Evey and Isaiah knocked on the door and entered, to the intense delight of Gwin.

  "Hallo. You came back real soon. We still have some coins left," she spouted in her rambling fashion.

  "I'm glad, Gwin. Now, we have something to tell you," Isaiah said. He knelt to meet her at eye level.

  "I'm good at remembering. You can tell me lots of things and I won't forget."

  "I knew we could count on you," Isaiah replied with a smile. "We have to go away for a while. We don't know when we'll be able to come back. One of us will, eventually. I promise. But it might be a long time. So we brought this for you."

  He handed her the last of their gold, and her eyes grew wide. She could barely hold it all. There had to be fifty gold coins in there.

  "This is an awful lot," Gwin said. "We don't need all that."

  "I know." Evey tousled her hair a little. "You are very good with your money. But we owe you two a lot. More than we can tell you. We want you to have it. It will help you last until we can come back, whenever that will be. Will you tell your mother what we said?"

  "I sure will. Every word," Gwin replied, and she stood up as straight as she could with the bulging money sack.

  When they left, Evey and Isaiah walked comfortably through the woods, leading their horses behind. Though neither of them spoke, they both knew exactly where they were going. They reached the large oak just before nightfall and became very somber.

  "I suppose this is it," Evey said sullenly.

  "I guess so."

  "Do you think we'll see each other again?"

  He turned away slightly, and put a hand against the tree. "Maybe. Assuming my dad doesn't kill me himself when I tell him where I've been. Where is your beaux from anyway?"

  She shrugged. "Actually, I don't know. Probably down near you."

  "Two weeks, huh?"

  "Yeah. Two weeks and a day. If I knew where it was happening, I'd invite you."

  "That's alright. Nothing personal, but I'm not sure I'd survive it," he said this with a grin, but Evey could tell that it was forced.

  "No offense taken."

  "If I knew when mine was going to be, I'd invite you too."

  "Nothing personal," she repeated.

  "So... Good bye, I guess," he said awkwardly.

  "Bye."

  They both turned and started to walk away. She wanted nothing more than to turn back. To hide her tears in his shoulder. Every step she took was harder, like wading through waist deep mud.

  "Wait, Isaiah!"

  "Yeah?" He turned back to her with a curious expression.

  "I have to tell you something. My real name. It's Evey."

  "Evey." This time his grin was more sincere, but still incredibly sad. "It's a good name."

  She forced herself to stay put. If she ran back, she'd never have the strength to leave again.

  "Well, so long."

  "Goodbye, Evey."

  At the sound of his voice speaking her name, she froze. She couldn't turn away. But after a long moment he did, and so did she. They walked away from each other, neither looking back.

  Evey mounted and rode slowly to the castle gate. Even without the horse to think of, she couldn't have mustered the energy to climb the wall. She felt hollow inside. Just a numb shell, as if all her organs had been removed and dropped off a cliff.

  "What have I done, Hobbes? How did I get into this mess?" she whispered as she brushed the other horse and put away his saddle.

  Hobbes whinnied and nuzzled her.

  "I know you love me." She hugged his neck and gave him some oats. "Thanks, buddy."

  As she wandered through the castle, she was oblivious to everything around her. The harder she tried to not think of Isaiah, the more she did. Even when Emeric berated her for making him worry so much, she only saw those piercing eyes and that impish grin under tousled honey brown hair.

  CHAPTER FORTY ONE

  Over the next few days, she still felt empty, but she found it more bearable when she busied herself with various chores. She helped the servants to scrub every inch of their tiny castle and did twice the reaping of anyone in the wheat field. Emeric was dumbfounded at the amount of work she was doing, but didn't stop her.

  On the third day, she felt better. The sun was out. The air was comfortable. It was almost a good day. Then she found out that her betrothed was due for supper.

  "I'm sorry," Emeric said. "But I didn't want to tell you earlier. I didn't know how you'd take it. But of course you had to know eventually."

  "It's fine. I really think I'll be okay."

  She was surprised to find that she meant it.

  Emeric hugged her. "Well, okay. But don't stay longer than you want. I know about the battle, and everything. I don't want you to feel put upon after all you've been through."

  She looked up. "How did you hear about that?"

  "News like that travels. I don't think there's anyone that hasn't heard the stories. And when I was told about it, I knew you had been there. I just have one question to ask."

  "What?"

  "Robin Hood and Maid Marion were honored by the king. That was you?"

  "Yeah."

  He beamed. "I thought so. I know I've told you before, but your parents would have been so proud of you."

  "Thanks," she replied.

  The thought of her father made her smile, and she dressed for dinner feeling marginally better.

  An hour later, she sat in the dining hall. The food was ready to be served, but she stared at it with no appetite. The two Roberts hadn't arrived yet, and every second that they made her wait was another
second that her anxiety grew.

  She was more angry with herself than with the young Robert. Before, she wouldn't have wasted time being nervous. Hit or shoot anything that bothered her. That was always her policy. It seemed like she was an entirely different person these days. But, of course, she was a different person. Whether that was good or bad remained to be seen.

  After an agonizing wait, Evey finally heard the visitors enter through the main doors. Her stomach coiled into at least four knots. First through was the gangly boy. If anything, his arms looked longer and thinner than ever. She groaned, but made up her mind to give him a fair chance. She couldn't begrudge him that.

  The older Sir Robert came next. He still looked every bit the arrogant, money loving steward that he had been before. She couldn't hate him, though. He had a lot of faults, but his heart really was in the right place. And anyway, he had saved her life.

  Sir Robert strode across the hall with long, purposeful steps, leaving the younger Robert in the entryway.

  "Take that up to my chambers, Alan."

  "Yes, sir," the dark-haired boy replied. He hefted a large box, and turned with it to the stairs.

  Alan? Not Robert? If that boy was just a servant then... Her eyes immediately darted to the doorway. A figure approached slowly, looking sullen and defeated. With a flash of her old fire, Evey thought, Great. Sullen is just what I need in a husband.

  "Terribly sorry to be late," the older Robert announced. "Broken carriage wheel, you know. Had to stop and fix it."

  "It's quite alright," Emeric began, but Evey didn't hear anything else. Young Sir Robert had just stepped into the light, and her insides began a jig at high speed.

  She stood so quickly that her chair crashed to the ground. Young Robert stopped as well, staring at her with a faintly confused air. Both were frozen in place. Emeric and the steward finally noticed this and cut off their discussion to watch the mysterious scene.

  Suddenly Robert's face lit up, and Evey dashed over the table as fast as she could vault it, not caring what anyone thought of her. She threw herself into his arms so violently that he had to spin her around twice in order to keep them both from falling over.