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queenofmayIt was easy enough to walk away, and let Guy think she'd been headed anywhere elsewhere, but sneaking through the market in midday was a mess. All of the crowds that parted instant and fearful before his approach, swarmed suddenly back into place once he passed. Making it hard to stay close enough, be sure of the right streets. She'd run straight into a man with his cart and had to duck under a table, cursing herself.
She had to stay down too long, praying he didn't see her and hating that she was far better prepared doing this at night. But she had no choice. She had to know if he was meeting up with the spy in Robin's gang. She went smoother and slower behind Sir Guy's trail after that following him to the Inn. Hood of her cloak pulled up to shade her face in the smaller room, when she had to get inside. He was meeting their spy.
Or he'd expected to, because once she'd edged the room close enough to hear him and the girl serving talking, his voice was cold and annoyed. She hadn't been able to look at him, but she'd heard the money bag slam the table. Heard his anger, as he told her the payment was silver and not gold, because the goods hadn't arrived in one piece.
Henry of Lewes, lying on a bed, unconscious in the castle.
They had been betrayed. She had. To Guy of Gisborne, and The Sheriff.
Marian hadn't managed more than to get outside the Inn again, wondering which way to go. If it was safe at all to return, if Guy and The Sheriff already knew, if Guy has known when she asked for the day off. If that smile about her not being a threat had been more. Whether to make for her father, in the dungeons, or to The Outlaws in the forest. One of whom was the traitor being harbored, their identity and existence unknown yet. She needed Robin.
Surprisingly, as soon as she'd had the thought, she'd spotted him passing the row of shops across from her, coming from one of the castle exits. Hood up and shoulder hunched, mouth firm. She took off after him, only calling him name when she was a few steps behind him. His face was so serious she saw no flicker of surprise, or any other emotion, for seeing her even.
"Henry?" She asked, her heart leaping into her throat, with the worst assumptions.
"He’s silenced, but only temporarily," he said, still striding forward, fast and serious, through the crowd, cutting through them all easily.
She stayed at the corner of his elbow, reaching up to keep her hood. Wondering if there was merit in hiding, if they already knew. Which did move her tongue. Because Henry she could find out about sooner or later, and would, whatever temporarily meant, aside from the fact Robin hadn't killed him. The other, he was walking right back in to. "You were right. You have a spy."
He'd stopped abruptly, turning back to face her. Alarm, and even deeper severity, as he leaned against a washing line post. "How do you know?"
"I followed Gisborne to the Trip Inn," she started, wondering if he'd stop her. Since he'd tried to demand she stay out of it earlier. She kept talking to forestall that eventuality, in and of the details. To make him listen to what he should. "Whoever he was meeting didn’t come, but a serving maid knew him and he left money with her."
He was gazing over her shoulder, jaw getting tighter as she continued on. "I heard them mention Henry, but I couldn’t hear any other names."
It was almost an apology. She knew more than earlier, enough for both of them to be sure there was a spy, someone doing what she did for them, except in the camp. Enough to know there was someone, but not enough to know why or when or how long.
"That’s payment for Henry’s arrival." His voice was stiff with the knowledge and her story, but then he looked to her and it was that look that caused her heart to ache overly again. The clouded green eyes under his deep brown hood, and the soft, betrayed, almost boyish voice that forced out the words, "Who is it, Marian? Who would betray me?"
She'd barely considered how to answer, no less what, when he suddenly shifted, ducking down with the words, pushing her away, "There’s Gisborne."
She had to stay down too long, praying he didn't see her and hating that she was far better prepared doing this at night. But she had no choice. She had to know if he was meeting up with the spy in Robin's gang. She went smoother and slower behind Sir Guy's trail after that following him to the Inn. Hood of her cloak pulled up to shade her face in the smaller room, when she had to get inside. He was meeting their spy.
Or he'd expected to, because once she'd edged the room close enough to hear him and the girl serving talking, his voice was cold and annoyed. She hadn't been able to look at him, but she'd heard the money bag slam the table. Heard his anger, as he told her the payment was silver and not gold, because the goods hadn't arrived in one piece.
Henry of Lewes, lying on a bed, unconscious in the castle.
They had been betrayed. She had. To Guy of Gisborne, and The Sheriff.
Marian hadn't managed more than to get outside the Inn again, wondering which way to go. If it was safe at all to return, if Guy and The Sheriff already knew, if Guy has known when she asked for the day off. If that smile about her not being a threat had been more. Whether to make for her father, in the dungeons, or to The Outlaws in the forest. One of whom was the traitor being harbored, their identity and existence unknown yet. She needed Robin.
Surprisingly, as soon as she'd had the thought, she'd spotted him passing the row of shops across from her, coming from one of the castle exits. Hood up and shoulder hunched, mouth firm. She took off after him, only calling him name when she was a few steps behind him. His face was so serious she saw no flicker of surprise, or any other emotion, for seeing her even.
"Henry?" She asked, her heart leaping into her throat, with the worst assumptions.
"He’s silenced, but only temporarily," he said, still striding forward, fast and serious, through the crowd, cutting through them all easily.
She stayed at the corner of his elbow, reaching up to keep her hood. Wondering if there was merit in hiding, if they already knew. Which did move her tongue. Because Henry she could find out about sooner or later, and would, whatever temporarily meant, aside from the fact Robin hadn't killed him. The other, he was walking right back in to. "You were right. You have a spy."
He'd stopped abruptly, turning back to face her. Alarm, and even deeper severity, as he leaned against a washing line post. "How do you know?"
"I followed Gisborne to the Trip Inn," she started, wondering if he'd stop her. Since he'd tried to demand she stay out of it earlier. She kept talking to forestall that eventuality, in and of the details. To make him listen to what he should. "Whoever he was meeting didn’t come, but a serving maid knew him and he left money with her."
He was gazing over her shoulder, jaw getting tighter as she continued on. "I heard them mention Henry, but I couldn’t hear any other names."
It was almost an apology. She knew more than earlier, enough for both of them to be sure there was a spy, someone doing what she did for them, except in the camp. Enough to know there was someone, but not enough to know why or when or how long.
"That’s payment for Henry’s arrival." His voice was stiff with the knowledge and her story, but then he looked to her and it was that look that caused her heart to ache overly again. The clouded green eyes under his deep brown hood, and the soft, betrayed, almost boyish voice that forced out the words, "Who is it, Marian? Who would betray me?"
She'd barely considered how to answer, no less what, when he suddenly shifted, ducking down with the words, pushing her away, "There’s Gisborne."