Bluebeard and the Outlaw by Tara Grayce
Chapter 7
Yes, we come to it at last. The famous archery contest, and its prize of a golden arrow. And a kiss, if you believe some of the stories.
You might be wondering how I managed to pull off being both Lady Robin and the Hood during the contest without Duke Guy starting to wonder why his wife kept disappearing any time the Hood was around.
That part was almost too easy. All I had to do was play up a bit of internal discomfort, mumble something about returning to my room for the rest of the day because it was (embarrassed cough) that time, and presto, I had an alibi no man would question. Ever. Besides, the duke had been married three times. He wasn’t some innocent youth blithely ignorant of the way the world worked.
What? Did you really think I would duck back and forth, frantically changing my clothes every couple of minutes?
Pfft. Amateurs.
* * *
Istrolled into the Greenwood, dressed in ratty black trousers and a ragged red shirt with my quiver at my hip and unstrung bow across my back. The garb was different enough from the brown-and-green I wore as the Hood that hopefully it would take the duke and the sheriff a little longer to spot me.
Only a few yards into the forest, Will and Tuck stepped out from behind trees. They were also wearing ragged peasants’ garb, complete with floppy hats that obscured their faces.
Will held out a black hat with a floppy brim to me. “Are you sure about this, Rob?”
“Definitely.” I pulled the hat over my hair, making sure my braid was fully covered. I probably should have cut my hair long ago, but I was allowed one feminine vanity. Besides, I never wouldn’t have gained the advantage of marrying the duke if I had chopped my hair.
My heart was beating, my chest twisting. This was going to be such an audacious adventure. A thrill the likes of which I had not had the opportunity to experience. Winning an archery contest right under the nose of the duke—my husband. Evading his trap.
Today was going to be fun.
I held out my hand to Tuck. “Did you bring it?”
Tuck held out a black eyepatch. “Wearing this is going to make winning more difficult.”
As an archer, I shot with both eyes open and focused on the target, calculating trajectory through years of practice. The eyepatch would throw off my depth perception and make it that much harder to shoot accurately.
I secured the eyepatch over my left eye, blinking several times as I adjusted to the change in my vision. “I don’t have to win. I just have to draw out the contest long enough for the rest of you to raid the treasure vaults.”
Will huffed a sigh. “I know you, Robin. You’re here to win, even if it doesn’t matter in the grand scheme of things.”
He had me there. Sure, I was looking forward to my brothers pulling off this heist and stealing the duke’s gold. And, yes, the contest itself would be quite the lark.
But it wouldn’t be a true challenge if I didn’t make it a little harder on myself. My brothers and I had practiced over the years shooting with one eye closed. It had been a while since I’d done it, but I would remember that old skill soon enough.
Besides, I had to do something to alter my face since I couldn’t wear my hood. I had spent far too much time in the duke’s presence over the past two weeks. He could recognize me much easier now than he could before.
Since the thing I was looking forward to the most was bantering with the duke while I out-shot him, I needed a disguise that would let me get close enough for talking.
Finally, I glued on the fake mustache, completing my transformation to the Hood. I grinned at my two brothers. “Time to lead the duke on a merry chase.”
Will rolled his eyes, but both he and Tuck fell into step behind me as I sauntered through the edge of the forest toward the open castle gates.
At the gates, we joined the crowd of people entering the castle. The guards’ gaze swept over us, probably noting our bows and quivers, but they didn’t hassle us. That was part of both my plan and the duke’s plot. He wanted to lure the Hood and his men into the castle. I wanted to smuggle my brothers inside so that they could rob the castle.
The courtyard bustled with people. A large roped-off area surrounded by guards marked the archery range with the targets set on one end and a wooden pavilion built at the other end, complete with a canopy and chairs where the sheriff and the duke would sit. There was an empty chair for me that must have been put there before they learned Lady Robin wouldn’t be making an appearance. Everyone else would watch standing in a packed crowd along the ropes on either side.
For now, the crowd milled about, enjoying the treats the castle kitchen had managed to scrape together from our supplies without risking starvation through this coming winter. The pleasant sound of music came from a cluster of people. As they shifted, I caught a glimpse of Alan, dressed in a flamboyant costume, as he strummed a lute and sang a popular folk tune about a tragic romance.
At the center of another cluster of people near the castle’s stables, John, Munch, and Marion were also dressed in flamboyant costumes as they tumbled and flipped and performed as a traveling tumbling troupe. Based on the clapping of the crowd, they were doing a good job for a group of unprofessionals.
With Will and Tuck trailing me, I pushed through the crowd and joined the end of the line to sign up for the archery contest. Thankfully, the line moved quickly, and soon I stood before a table. A guard sat behind it, a pen and piece of paper in front of him. No flicker of recognition crossed his face as he stared up at me. “Name?”
“Nat the Blinker.” I drawled the name in my deeper voice. “’Cause of the eyepatch.”
The guard gave a grunt and wrote down the moniker. “Next.”
Well, he had no sense of humor. What was this place coming to if people didn’t laugh when I made a joke about my own appearance?
I stepped aside, waiting while both Will and Tuck added fake names to the list. Once we had all signed up, we faded into the crowd, working our way to a quiet corner near the stables.
Soon, Marion, Munch, and John joined us, still dressed in their vibrant clothing. After only a few more minutes, Alan strolled into our corner, his lute now tucked into a case on his back.
“All right, everyone, here’s the plan.” I handed them each a map of the castle that I’d drawn. “John, Marion, Munch, I stashed servants’ clothing for each of you in the stables. Head for the lower floors of the castle. Alan, you’ll stand watch for them. Tuck and Will, you’ll stick with me until you’re eliminated from the contest, then you’ll help the others. When you’re done, hide out in my room. I’ll meet you there.”
With all the servants and guards emptied into the courtyard for the day, it was the perfect opportunity for my brothers to finally rob the duke’s treasure vault.
A trumpet sounded, signaling the end of the entertainment and the beginning of the archery contest.
While Alan, Munch, Marion, and John slipped inside the stables, Will, Tuck, and I worked our way into the crowd of other archers waiting for our name to be called for our turn to shoot.
Duke Guy and Sheriff Reinhault sat in their seats on the pavilion, my chair conspicuously empty. Duke Guy’s hard, dark gaze studied the pack of archers, skipping from man to man as if noting them for the future.
The duke’s black hair and beard were meticulously in place, glinting with a deep blue-black sheen. He wore a blue shirt and black trousers with quality leather braces, leather tunic, and matching knee-high boots. The quiver and unstrung bow showed that he intended to compete in his own tournament, something he’d noised about as an enticement to the Hood.
Not that he’d needed that extra incentive, but he didn’t know that.
With all the leather and his bow, he cut a strong, tall figure, complete with dark brooding eyes deep set above prominent cheekbones and a jaw that I could only guess was as strong as the rest of his facial features, though his beard obscured the shape.
My heart lurched in a way I’d never felt before. It was kind of like the thrill of an arrow passing close to my head, almost-death and precious-life all at once. My instincts screamed danger, yet that same danger lured me toward it anyway.
I had never thought I would be drawn to any man. I was too independent. Too much my own person. Too unwilling to make the sacrifices necessary to stand at the side of anyone else.
Perhaps we could have become something. If I had been someone other than myself—an outlaw, a leader, a woman drawn to danger. And if he had been someone other than himself—a murderer, a duke, a man given to cruelty.
But, we weren’t, and thus we never could be.
As his gaze swung toward me, I lazily tipped my head, placing the floppy edge of my hat between him and me. I could feel the intensity of his gaze lingering on me. My heart pounded harder, and it took all my discipline to stop myself from giving the duke a salute.
The weight of his gaze moved beyond me as the herald called out the first set of names.
I tried not to pace as each set of archers strode to the line and took their turns shooting. While I knew my brothers needed all the time this contest could give them, I wanted the reckless thrills to begin. Waiting was dead boring.
The herald called the duke’s name, and Duke Guy strode confidently down the stairs of the pavilion to take his place in the line of archers.
I leaned forward onto my toes. Now this was something I wanted to see. Duke Guy had shot at me numerous times, coming close enough to hitting his target to tell me he was good with that bow.
For the sake of my disguise, I should be hoping that he would get eliminated.
But I wasn’t. That reckless streak of mine had me all tied up in knots hoping this contest would come down to me and Duke Guy. It wouldn’t be as much fun if I faced down some innocent archer who had just come for a bit of prize money.
When it was his turn, Duke Guy raised his bow and drew back the nocked arrow with a perfect, fluid motion. The strength of his muscles was apparent as his shirt and leather vest pulled taut around his shoulders.
My mouth went strangely dry, my head a touch light. A monster like him had no right to look that good while handling a bow and arrow.
When the duke released, the arrow flew true, striking just inside the line marking the center circle.
“Robin.” Will gave me a sharp nudge with his elbow, his whisper harsh. “Don’t look at him like that.”
I blinked, my vision going blurry as I adjusted to seeing through only one eye. I had to fully turn to look at Will. “Like what?”
Will’s jaw flexed. “Like you find him attractive.”
As I couldn’t hide the fact that I had been staring, I gave a nonchalant shrug, keeping my voice lowered so that those around us wouldn’t hear. “What can I say? I’m attracted to dangerous things. But don’t worry. I’m very good at putting arrows in monsters when the time comes.”
Though, it would be a pity when it happened. Duke Guy was deadly. He taxed the villagers harshly and killed his wives. But a part of me would mourn when our game was over. After all, a hero was only as good as her nemesis.
“You’d better be.” Will’s grip tightened on his bow as he stared me down.
Tuck shifted, his fingers flexing as if he was wishing he held his ladle instead of a bow.
Finally, my fake name was called, and I sauntered to my place in line. As the others shot one-by-one, I took a moment to study the target affixed to the front of a stack of hay bales two-thirds of the way across the courtyard, trying to judge the distance as best as I could with my left eye covered by the eyepatch.
Almost lazily, I opened the cover to my quiver just enough to withdraw one of the white-fletched practice arrows. Instead of the large, barbed broadhead that I would use on a deer or a man, the practice arrow had a small iron tip that would be easy to remove from the hay bale for reuse. I let the cover of my quiver fall back in place to keep my black-fletched, deadlier arrows hidden from sight.
Nocking the arrow, I drew it back as I raised the bow, my back and shoulders working together. I focused on the target, letting out my breath before holding it for just a single, steadying instant as I released.
The arrow hissed through the air, slicing into the target on the line that marked the center circle and disappearing into the hay bale up to the fletching.
I scowled at the arrow. It had been a decent shot. Good enough to ensure that I advanced to the next round. But it had not been my best, and I would need to improve my accuracy shooting with this eyepatch if I hoped to defeat the duke in the final round.
Will and Tuck each took their own turns at shooting. Will buried his arrow only a hair short of the center, and when I turned, I could see the way both the duke and the sheriff straightened and started watching him more closely.
I knew Will had done that on purpose, drawing their attention away from me. And I really shouldn’t have been miffed that he’d managed a better first shot than I had.
Tuck, however, ended up in a group of skilled archers from several villagers over, and he was eliminated. They would be a group to watch, as they had the potential to knock the duke or me out of the contest if either of us slipped up.
By the second round, I had adjusted to the eyepatch enough that I put my arrow well inside the center circle. In both the third and fourth rounds, I had found my stride, putting my arrows through the center dot both times. That made me the focus of the duke, the sheriff, and the spectators.
The duke had also survived his rounds, placing his arrows near the center dot, and once through it. With each shot, he kept glancing between me and Will more often, as if trying to decide which of the two of us was the Hood. I had to keep my floppy hat pulled low and my left side toward him.
By the time we reached the sixth, semi-final round, it was down to me, the duke, Will, and one of the skilled archers from the town down the river. The crowd around us cheered and kept up a steady roar of discussion, and they had to have figured out by now that one of the three archers who found themselves facing the duke in this round had to be their hero, the Hood.
As the target was moved back another few paces, the four of us lined up with the duke on the far end. We were down to a single target set on hay bales ahead of us.
Will selected his arrow, not looking at me. “I’m not going to throw this round, you know.”
“I don’t expect you to.” I also picked through my practice arrows until I found one that felt especially right in my hand. Regardless of my role as the Hood, Will was first and foremost my brother. And brothers didn’t just let their sister win without making her work awfully hard for it. Nor would I want him to do anything less.
The duke raised his bow first, pausing a moment before he let his arrow fly. It slammed into the target just a hair to the side of the center dot. A very good shot, but beatable.
The skilled archer from a few villagers over lifted his bow, took a moment, and released. Perhaps it was nerves. Maybe he paused too long. Or it was just the lot of any archer that a shot is bound to go astray every once and while. But this time, the stranger’s arrow thunked into the line around the center circle. By the way the man’s shoulders slumped, he knew that it was unlikely he’d progress to the final round.
Now it was my turn. I nocked the arrow and drew, my muscles steadying with the familiar feel of my bow flexing, the string taut against the leather guard on the fingers of my right hand. A whiff of a breeze brushed my cheek, and I added that to my swift, mental instincts.
I released. My arrow hissed, then slammed into the target in the center dot, so close to the duke’s arrow that our two shafts scraped against each other.
The archer from out of town bowed and strode out of line, acknowledging that he was out of the contest.
Next to me, Will’s mouth pressed into a tight line. The best he could do now was put his arrow as close to mine as the duke’s was and force a re-shoot to determine which of them would move to the final round.
With a deep breath, Will drew back his arrow, then released. His arrow flew through the air and pierced the target a mere half an inch below my arrow. Another great shot, but not close enough to beat the duke.
Will shook his head, flicking his glance toward me and muttering below his breath. “Looks like you got your way. As usual. Don’t do anything too reckless.”
With that, Will faded into the crowd. A few of the soldiers moved, as if they planned to stop him, but the duke gave a small shake of his head.
Good. He was waiting to close in on me, leaving Will free to move about for now. Will would most likely be watched, but he would know to handle that little inconvenience.
I struggled to suppress my grin, a surging laugh building inside my chest until it was almost painful. It was down to me and Duke Guy, just as it was always meant to be.
Four soldiers hurried onto the range to move the hay bales back by a few more feet until they were set all the way up against the far castle wall. Another soldier replaced the shot-up target with a freshly painted target cloth, affixing it to the hay bales with a great deal of care so that it lay flat and taut. There could be no mistakes, no detail left overlooked, for this final round.
I heard the duke’s bootsteps crunch on the cobblestones as he stepped closer to me until we stood only a few feet apart at the line. But I didn’t turn my head to look at him, keeping the side with the eyepatch facing him.
“Hood.” He ground the word between his teeth as if it was a curse.
“We meet again, Duke Bluebeard.” I used the village’s derogatory name on purpose, knowing it would rile him.
“You’re surrounded. You won’t get away this time. Save us the trouble and surrender.” Duke Guy’s tone was flint.
“And let you hang me without so much as a fight? I think not.” I laughed and gestured toward the target, sitting alone at the far end now that the soldiers had hurried out of the way. “The people came for a show. Let’s give it to them, shall we?”
“Fine.” The timbre of the duke’s snarl changed as he turned to face the target instead of me. “Enjoy your last free moments, Hood. You will not leave this castle.”
I gave another laugh as I selected my arrow. I had no intention of leaving. This was my castle, even if he didn’t know it. “I wish you luck. Bad luck.”
“By all means, Hood. I wish you the same.” Out of the corner of my uncovered right eye, I could see the tip of his arrow as he raised his bow.
I smirked. How I would miss this banter with him when I was forced to kill him. The dukedom would be a much more boring place without him in it.
With that same, fluid motion, the duke drew his arrow back, his bow bending in a swelling curve in his strong hands. He released after only a heartbeat with the confidence of a skilled archer.
The arrow sailed through the air, straight and true, taking the target in the dead center.
I caught my breath, a momentary weight settling into my chest. His had been a great shot. An unbeatable shot.
The duke’s voice held a smirk, even if I didn’t turn to see it. “I hope you aren’t too disappointed. It seems you won’t have the pleasure of holding the golden arrow before I hang you.”
That golden arrow was mine. I had picked it out specifically for me. There was no way I was letting the duke claim it.
Out of the corner of my uncovered eye, I could just see the duke’s hand as he gestured from me to the target. “Perhaps you wish to surrender now, Hood, before you have to endure the humiliation of losing an archery contest to me.”
Fat chance of that. I was going to win this thing yet, see if I didn’t.
Around us, the crowd had gone deathly silent. They, too, realized that their hero was on the verge of defeat. An edge of despair curled around them as the grandiose legend I’d built around the Hood crumbled when faced with reality.
They expected the impossible out of me. Then impossible was exactly what I was going to give them.
This time, I tossed back the covering of my quiver, revealing the fletching of my arrows for all to see. It didn’t matter at this point. The duke knew I was the Hood. His guards were poised to snatch me as soon as I completed this shot.
Sweet, sweet danger. It rushed through my chest, my veins, so heady I was nearly dizzy with it.
I slid the practice arrow I had selected back into my quiver, and instead trailed my fingers over the black-fletching until my fingers brushed one that resonated with me. I drew the arrow from the quiver, its large iron broadhead winking in the early afternoon sunlight.
A collective gasp came from the crowd, the silence stretching into one of anticipation instead of the despair of a moment earlier. The duke muttered something under his breath. Perhaps cursing my audacity.
Then, the world narrowed to me, my bow, my arrow, and the far-off target. The bow bent to my will, the arrow lifting. I sank into my instincts, lifting the tip of the arrow as demanded by my years of practice and those honed, uncanny senses gifted to me by the hint of fae blood that ran through my veins.
I breathed in, my hands steady, my muscles strong. I slowly exhaled part of the breath out, then I uncurled my fingers, releasing the arrow.
It whistled through the air before it struck with a splintering crack.
For a heartbeat, no one moved. It was almost as if no one even dared breathe as we stared at my black-fletched arrow standing out from the center of the split pieces that were all that remained of the duke’s arrow.
“No.” The duke breathed, as if he was too much in awe of the shot to give the order for my arrest.
I flourished a bow, turning in his direction for the first time. “This has been fun, Duke, but it is time I bid you adieu.”
Rather than straightening, I spun and dove into the surrounding crowd.
The courtyard exploded with chaos. The soldiers rushed forward to apprehend me, but they were hampered by the crowd that also surged forward in a tide of shouting, scrambling people. Whether they simply wanted to congratulate their hero or they were trying to protect him, it didn’t matter. They provided the distraction I was counting on, though I hoped the soldiers would have enough restraint not to hurt the unarmed villagers.
I darted between soldiers and villagers, hampered by my strung bow gripped in my hand. Two soldiers blocked my way, but instead of slowing, I ducked low and rammed into them with my shoulders. They stumbled aside, and I darted off while they were still regaining their balance.
“Get him!” Duke Guy shouted, his deep voice tinged with frustration.
Sheriff Reinhault appeared before me, brandishing his sword. His mouth tipped in a fierce smile. When I tried to dodge around him, he matched my movements.
I skidded to a halt. I didn’t have my own sword, since such weapons would have been confiscated at the castle gate. Nor did I want to use my precious bow for fending off the sheriff.
Instead, I switched my bow to my left hand and took up one of the posts that had been used to outline the edge of one of the cleared areas for the performers. It was heavier than I would have liked, but it was hardened wood with a weighted end on the bottom to keep it upright on the cobblestones.
When the sheriff stabbed with his sword, I parried with the post as a snarl burned in my throat. As thrilling as a swordfight was, I didn’t have the time to waste. The duke and his soldiers were closing in behind me. If I didn’t disappear soon, all would be lost.
As the sheriff swung again, I ducked, feeling the brush of air against my hair as my hat was partially yanked from my head. It hung down at the back of my head, still obscuring my hair from the duke.
But the sheriff stared straight into my face, part of my braid visible.
Before he could get a good look, I swung the post as hard as I could, the weighted end catching the sheriff’s shoulder. He stumbled and fell to his knees, his gaze swinging to the ground rather than focused on me.
I would have to hope his glimpse had been too quick, my eyepatch too concealing, for him to realize just whom he had seen.
I jumped over the sheriff and ran. Dodging a few more grasping hands, I flung open the nearest door into the castle’s keep.
Once inside, I raced down the corridor, then ducked into one of the storerooms that connected to the kitchens through a set of back passageways. At the empty kitchens, I threw myself out one of the windows, which had been left open to let in the breeze and cool the air heated by the fires.
As the kitchens were in the base of my tower, I climbed up the stones, glancing over my shoulder occasionally to check for pursuit. But the soldiers hadn’t yet managed to follow me, nor were they checking the outside of the castle yet, too focused on keeping the outlaws trapped inside.
As planned, I found my window open. I pulled myself inside, rolling onto the window seat and panting from my long run and climb.
I glanced up to find my six brothers crowding around me, foreheads wrinkling as if they had been worried.
Yanking off my eyepatch, I gave a hearty laugh and sat up, shoving my brothers out of my face. “Now that was quite the lark!”
Will shook his head. “Only you, Robin.”
John thumped my back, Tuck gave a few muttered congratulations, and Alan hung back, grinning slightly. But, something still seemed off in their expressions. They should all be celebrating with me, not grinning as if they had something to hide.
I crossed my arms. “All right. Out with it. Please tell me you succeeded in your part of the mission?”
“Not exactly.” Alan sighed and plopped onto the floor. Behind him, Munch and Marion seemed to be blocking a pile of something from my view. Alan gestured toward the door. “We found a treasure vault deep below the duke’s tower, as you expected. It was filled with piles of gold and jewels and riches you wouldn’t believe.”
As we had always assumed we would find. Why, then, did my brothers’ frowns deepen? I searched their faces, then leaned over, trying to peer past Munch, Marion, and John. “Then what’s wrong? Didn’t you manage to steal enough to make it worth it?”
“It isn’t that.” Alan sighed so forcefully that his whole body slumped with his exhale. “Does someone else want to tell her? I certainly don’t.”
It must be bad news if they were about ready to pick straws to decide who had to tell me. I pushed to my feet, strode across the room, and shoved between the wall of my brothers.
There, in the center of the floor, sat a pile of gold and jewels. Yet, standing this close to them, I could taste the overpowering tang of fae magic coming from the pile. I squinted at it, trying to will away the fae glamor that was lying to my eyes, as I reached down to grip the iron bar in my quiver.
It looked real, but it was fool’s gold, nothing more. Fool’s gold was a type of faerie gold that the fae used to trick humans. A way to toy with the human vice of greed.
“Ah, now that is an interesting development.” I knelt and touched the fool’s gold. It rang with the same faint sour taste that I sensed throughout the castle.
None of the duke’s gold was real. All this time, I’d believed him fabulously wealthy. Yet, all along, it had been nothing but shiny, worthless bits of fae trickery.
I looked up at my brothers. “Was all the gold in the treasure vaults nothing but an illusion? What if he is substituting fae gold for real gold when he sends the taxes to the king?”
Will shook his head. “Nothing in any of the vaults we searched was real. But, we would have noticed if we robbed a tax shipment and found part of it to be fake. Everything he has been sending to the king has been real.”
What was his game? Why, then, have all this fool’s gold sitting in his treasure vault? Who was he trying to cheat? I would understand if he was taxing the people for the real money, then sending the fake gold on to the king. But, he wasn’t doing that. Instead, the only person he was cheating was himself. And that made no sense whatsoever.
“What are your orders, Robin?” Alan knelt on the floor across from me. Behind him, Will, John, Tuck, Munch, and Marion clustered in closer, waiting to hear what I had to say.
I drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly. “We proceed with the plan. All of you will escape with this fool’s gold. I want to know what happens to it when it’s taken from the castle, and if the duke notices it’s missing. I’ll stay here and see if I can get to the bottom of this.” I glanced between all of them, taking in their serious faces. “Whatever is going on, it’s more than simply a greedy duke trying to get rich off his villagers. A fae is at work here, and it is our job as foresters to stop him.”