The Greenwood Shadow (32 page)

"You won't steal them from a poor farmer, or anything?" she asked.

"What? Of course not. I've got better connections than that. Trust me."

"Alright," she conceded, "but don't take too long. I don't want to be alone with this piece of work longer than I have to."

Isaiah laughed and gave her a playful wink. Then he walked off, and Evey turned back to the king.

"Keep walking."

He narrowed his eyes. "I don't think I will."

She pointedly nocked an arrow and aimed.

"You walk forward now, or you walk with a limp for the rest of your life. Your choice."

The king just laughed. "You really don't think I'm scared of that, do you?"

"Of course not. No reason at all to be afraid of a high speed, highly sharpened projectile as it flies toward your face."

He ignored her, and started to walk back the way they came. He glanced back at her stern expression, chuckled again, and meandered down the path as if daring her to do something about it. Evey was well aware of her own short temper, and if she didn't act soon, she was likely to plant an arrow between his shoulder blades.

Before the king could turn again, she slipped away and moved through the woods like a shadow. Right on cue, the king turned back once more, most likely to make some sort of snide comment. He stopped short when she wasn't there. The real shock came when he faced forward again and nearly ran into her. His jaw dropped, and he stammered.

He was short enough that she could reach his eye level if she tip-toed. She leaned in until her face was inches from his.

"There's nowhere you can go that I can't follow you. There's no trail you can cover that I can't find. You'll never even know I was there."

Sounding much braver than he looked, he said, "So, follow me. I'm terrified."

He must have noticed the dangerous glint in her eyes, because he suddenly shrank away. He was nervous, but not nearly nervous enough. She felt like a terrible person for taking such savage pleasure in frightening annoying men, but she didn't have the patience to listen to nonsense.

"Ever heard of Robin Hood?" she growled in a threatening tone.

"Robin Hood?"

"Do you know anything that happens in your own castle? The man who rescued that girl from the gallows. He's supposed to be the best archer in the land. Planted an arrow inches from Sir Guy, and another in your scepter, if I remember correctly."

His eyes revealed that he did indeed remember the incident. "What about him?"

"He told you that the best archer in the land was in your presence. He wasn't lying. And here you are again, in my presence. I was the girl at the gallows."

The king really laughed as she said that. He clearly didn't believe a word.

"So this is revenge, is it? Getting back at me for punishing a criminal. How charming. Too bad your body guard isn't here anymore," the king commented snidely.

Evey almost choked in her agitation. She had expected the reaction, though. It was the same one she got every time. Every single blasted time. But it wouldn't take more than a few shots to change his mind. That is, if she didn't throttle him first.

He pushed past her. She took aim and fired in rapid succession. A hundred yards away, five arrows thudded to a stop in a tight cluster. Two of the arrowheads were buried in the same hole. Even she was impressed with herself on that one. The king gawked with a wide open mouth.

Slowly he approached the tree and stared some more. She let him look for a minute, before ripping the shafts from the tree and replacing them in her quiver. He looked from the arrows to her face several times.

"Uh, I think we'll walk this way, shall we?" he said.

The king stayed silent for the rest of the travel that day. He walked along glumly, and obviously exhausted, until Isaiah returned with three horses. Evey couldn't understand him at all. One minute he was swaggering around like the pompous king she'd always imagined him to be, and the next he meekly took orders without so much as a whisper of protest.

Later, around the campfire, the king finally plucked up the courage to speak again.

"I want to know what is going on here. Every time I think I know what's just happened to me, it gets proven wrong. Let's just get this over with. Explain."

"Of course, your majesty," Isaiah agreed.

"I've especially wondered what David has got to do with all of this."

"It's the country, your highness," Evey explained. "It's an awful mess. All we want is to convince you to change some of your policies. The people can't take much more of this."

He narrowed his eyes. "Much more of what? I love my country and my people. You must realize that many things that I am forced to do as king, such as levy taxes and the like, are for the good of the country. You can't possibly understand the many responsibilities that a king has."

He looked more confident than before, and Evey could see that he was sincere.

Isaiah lowered his eyes and his voice. "We understand more than you might think. There's nothing we could want more than to see things made right with the people you are responsible for."

"Make what right?" The king asked, clearly losing his patience.

"He doesn't know," Isaiah said to Evey, and she nodded.

"Know what?" the king demanded.

Isaiah spent several long minutes explaining the treachery of Sir Guy, and describing the awful condition in which the peasants were left. The king listened intently. He was trying to honestly understand everything, which Evey appreciated. That meant there was hope for success.

"I'm sure you mean well, of course." He shook his head for the fifth time. "I could never believe that the two of you who are so young and brave would be up to something sinister. But you are young, and so is David. You just don't understand the way that government works. No one likes paying taxes, or anything. But it has to be done."

"Yes, but-" Evey tried to explain, but the king stopped her.

"Sir Guy is my most trusted advisor, and be aware that he informs me much more thoroughly than you give him credit for. I've seen numbers and figures, read eyewitness reports, and I examine everything completely before I mark it with my seal. I do my best to be a good king. I'm heartily sorry if I disappoint you, but I am trying. No one is perfect, after all."

"Well, you can't say that the man isn't thorough," Evey grumbled. "Sir Guy has covered everything."

"Yeah. This is going to be a lot harder than I thought," Isaiah agreed.

Evey cracked her knuckles. She had hoped, although foolishly, that her word would be enough to get the job done. With Isaiah backing her, it should have been easy. But the king was right. They were very young. In fact, she probably wouldn't have believed herself either. What would a sixteen year old girl know about it all? The king had no way of understanding how very atypical she was.

She wanted to say something clever. To think of something witty and incredible that would immediately convince the king of her words. True to the norm, though, she couldn't think of a single thing better than just threatening him. Daring him to doubt her honor. She didn't think that would go over well, so she left the talking to Isaiah.

"Your majesty," he said, "I don't think we'll get anywhere with this discussion tonight. It will just turn into a debate that no one can win. I think that the only way to really understand will be to walk for a while in each other's shoes, so to speak. Will you trust our good intentions enough to come with us? To let us show you what we see, from our perspective?"

The king nodded hesitantly.

"If it doesn't convince you," Isaiah continued, "we'll drop it altogether. That is an honest promise. We'll never bother you. Robin Hood will never be heard of again. No tax raids, no more wounded soldiers, no escaped prisoners."

"How can you say that?" Evey hissed furiously. She had no intention of stopping, just because the king was too dense to understand. Isaiah calmly interrupted her before she could continue.

"Because I know that it will work," he said. Then, to both Evey and the king, he added, "I know you meant what you said, your highness, about trying to be the best king you could. If you really are the good man that I think I can see in you, you won't be able to see what we show you without wanting to act on it. I'm confident in that."

The conversation ended there, leaving Evey annoyed. She wasn't willing to bet everything on the fact that the king would understand. She knew that he was more than the pompous, bone-head leader, but she didn't yet know how much more. She finally fell asleep after remembering that she very much trusted Isaiah's judgment.

Evey watched the king closely through the following day. Still she saw the strange combination of arrogance and cowardice that she couldn't quite reconcile with each other. She supposed that it must be a symptom of too much courtly living, and made a note to never allow herself to get into such a situation.

Just before nightfall, Isaiah stopped them.

"We could get there tonight. We're very close. But we can't get started on the tour this late anyway, and we'd have to stay in the inn if we did go on. We might as well camp here, and cover the distance in the morning."

Evey agreed immediately. Isaiah didn't know it, but the inn near the widow's house was the same one in which Bill the soldier had started the Robin Hood rumors. She had been there so many times that she couldn't be certain of not being recognized, even with her mask in place.

It felt strange to be so near home, and so near her favorite campsites without falling into her old habits. All she wanted to do was to string her hammock up in the giant oak and talk to Isaiah about nothing at all. She would show up at home every few days, and leave again whenever she liked.

"We're not so far from where we first, um, met," Isaiah pointed out.

"I know," she whispered back, and then added, "I think 'met' might be understating it just a little."

"How about 'Unexpected comrades in arms are thrown together in a dramatic rescue'?" He cast her the mischievous grin that she liked so much.

She smiled back. "I can live with that."

Suddenly the sun was high in the sky, and she discovered that she had slept at least an hour longer than was normal for her. She didn't even remember falling asleep.

"I'm sorry. I didn't intend to sleep that long," she mumbled drowsily.

"It's fine. We must have been tired. I only just woke myself. But we should get going soon." Isaiah picked up a loaf of bread. "I've got some breakfast ready."

The king was harder to wake. He put up a real fight about getting out of his bedroll, but Isaiah finally managed to convince him to move. In his fatigued state he was much feistier than normal, and spent the morning complaining about everything.

By the time they got on their horses again, Evey wanted to send an arrow at his head. She was saved the trouble, though. Barely ten minutes from the village, their way got barred by a particularly unpleasant looking knight who seemed as though he'd be willing to clobber the king for her.

He wore an impressively bushy mustache, and wielded a very expensive looking sword. He had two cronies flanking him. Their armor was rather rustier, but nevertheless effective at protecting them from all but the most careful bow shots.

"In the name of the king, I command you to halt and pay tribute! None pass without paying a toll!"

CHAPTER THIRTY THREE

Isaiah had to physically restrain the king from riding up to the knights and telling them exactly who he was.

"Should we just pay them?" he asked her while holding the king in his saddle.

"Not if we can help it. We don't have a lot of silver. Plus, I don't like the idea of giving these types anything."

"Let me go!" The king struggled" If you'll just let me explain, I can tell them they're mistaken, and all will be well."

"Your majesty," Evey replied through gritted teeth, "I don't think you understand what's going on, here."

"What's not to understand?" he interrupted.

"Even if these men believe you about being the king, which they won't, they don't answer to you. They say 'in the name of the king' so they can pretend that they're in the right."

"That's absurd," he insisted.

He tried to say more, but Evey gave him her sternest look and ordered him to sit still. He looked terrified for a moment, and then did as he was told. She tried to think of some way to get past the knights without paying them, but nothing came to mind.

"I'm speaking to you three, there!" the mustached knight shouted out to them, using the same tone that adults used with toddlers. "You are ordered to pay a tribute to the king!"

"One moment, good sir!" Isaiah called back.

"Good sir?" Evey groaned.

"I had to say something. No sense in offending them before we even know what to do."

"So think of something then. You're a knight."

Isaiah furrowed his brow. "I only have one idea, and I don't really know how much better it is than galloping away."

"Well, what is it?" she demanded.