“They’re all the same, Little John.” Robin’s expression waxed into boredom as the belt fell into the thick grass of the clearing with hardly a sound, the shift of metal muffled by the tender green blades. “I can’t remember the last man to give us a good fight, the last challenge. Why, when was the last time any of us shed more than a measly ounce of blood, hmm? When was the last time someone nearly died at the blade of a greedy noble, or a disreputable trader?”
“Not all of us are as pleased with mortal wounds as you are, Robin.” The man hanging from the tree branch shook his head. “Then again, perhaps it’s more fun when you’re not mortal.”
Robin arched an eyebrow at the speaker. “Silly Will. Don’t you know that there are things ever so much worse than death?”
“Like boredom?”
A sigh drew itself from the depths of Robin’s being, sending him down to collapse on the ground with an unceremonious thud. “Well said.”
“I told you this wasn’t going to last.”
There was enough heat in Little John’s voice to start a forest fire. Marian tightened her grip on her crossbow as the bear of a man heaved himself off the trunk of the stressed tree, the wood creaking in relief. He took one huge step toward Robin, face darkening like dry parchment kissed by flame.
“I knew you wouldn’t last a decade. I should have stayed home, kept to my territory.” He threaded a hand through his thick brown beard, jerking it in sharp, agitated tugs. “I’ll have lost the territory now. No doubt it’s been claimed by someone else. I’ll have another challenge fight to go through—you know how I hate those. I’m getting too old for thi—”
“Hold on now, I never said I was leaving!” Robin stared up through the thick canopy of leaves that shielded them from the fading rays of the sun. “I’m not leaving, not yet. Just a little bored that’s all.” He flicked something off his tunic. “Besides, it has been nearly nine years. You act like I gave up after a couple of days.”
Little John crossed his arms, muscles bulging to strain the seams of his simple cotton shirt. “Nine years is little more than a couple of days to a sidhe.”
Marian nearly choked at the sound of that word. Dear Goddess, not a sidhe.
“Well, you can’t have expected me to anticipate you would realize that.” Robin spread out his arms, sliding them through the grass. “I will stay, I’m not saying I’m giving up. I just need—”
“Quiet,” Little John said suddenly.
Robin wrinkled his nose. “Most certainly not, you know I hate quiet—”
“Quiet!”
Little John held perfectly still. His warning had a similar effect on his two companions, and suddenly all three of them were frozen like topiaries, gazes sharpened as they peered into the trees. Marian followed the direction of their scrutiny, then smothered a groan as she realized what had caught their attention.
Too late to back out now.
Snapping twigs, rustling leaves. She was coming. Marian’s heart leapt into her throat, a sheen of sweat wetting her temples. She’d forgotten about her. If she was going to approach Robin, she’d have to do it now, have to go through with her plan.
Time to make a choice.
Little John’s nose twitched. “A woman. Coming closer.”
“A woman?”
“She came then. She’s here.” A smile blossomed on Robin’s face, lighting his features as no sunlight ever could. The expression gave his eyes a shine that promised mischief and more fun than it was wise to have. Marian blinked, shook herself when she realized she’d been staring.#p#分页标题#e#
“Who’s here?”
Will’s question fell on deaf ears as Robin straightened to his full height, brushing at his clothes in a manner that came suspiciously close to primping. Marian quirked an eyebrow at his preening, the tension bleeding from her muscles. The decision was made, no reason to worry about it now. Only way to go was forward.
The branches of the thick trees that formed a sea of green around the clearing parted. A hint of a woman’s cloak, pale blue, and…hooves.
Robin’s jaw dropped, an expression mirrored by his companions. Marian covered her mouth with her fingertips, resolving herself not to chuckle as a pale brown cow stepped out of the forest. Bessy, one of Marian’s favorites for her sweet temperament, willingness to follow direction…and near-suicidal obliviousness when it came to danger. After scouting the area earlier, Marian had left a subtle trail of rosehips—Bessy’s favorite treat—that led from her pasture to this clearing. There’d been no guarantee that it would work, but here she was.