Robin Hood, section two

[maderr]

Robert scowled. "There is no cause to be insulting."

Will smirked. "Prove to me I need to draw both," he replied – and attacked.

A few minutes of sparring proved only what he had expected – his brother was good. Very good – but he could and should be far better. Not that it was necessary of a forester, but with a man who was playing bandit and challenging the authority of the King's men…

He grunted and caught a blow with his sword, and kicked out with one leg, catching Robert unaware in the gut. As Robert's sword went slack with surprise, he shoved it away with his own, then swung back, catching Robert across the side of his head with the flat of the blade.

Robert started to fall, clearly dazed, but Will gave him no chance, holding him by the scruff of his tunic.

"Bastard," Robert gasped out. "You bloody cheated."

Will gave rough shake. "Cheated? I fight the way any soldier fights – the way you should be fighting, if you insist upon challenging the Mayor and Sheriff of Nottingham. Do you think, if you come up against them or their men directly, that they will fight you fairly? Hiding in the woods with bows and arrows and fighting overworked, underpaid soldiers is one thing – but someday soon you will find you have bitten more than you can chew, Rob. Clearly you do not understand what it is you are doing, and if I have to beat that into you – I will."

Robert glared at him. "I do not care what you say or do to me, Will, I am doing the right thing. The money and everything else they take belongs to the people of Nottingham. The taxes they demand time and again are not fair. We cannot fight them openly for fear they'll hurt those we love."

Letting him go with another shake, Will replied, "Did you speak to the magistrate? Complain to the throne?" He bit back a feeling of hurt. "Damn it, Rob, if things were so awful, why did you not send for me? Did you believe I would not come? Did you think so little of me?"

He knew it had been selfish to leave Robert alone, only a few years after their parents died, but he had been no different than any other young boy dreaming of fortune and glory, of the wider world beyond Nottingham.

All he had found, of course, was that reality was nothing like dreams. Now, he was finally home, only to find that the poison of the wider world was seeping into his Nottingham.

"Of course I knew you would come," Robert said, his anger fading. "I think am a bit past the age of running to my big brother for help, however. Besides, I had no idea where you were, really. Soldiers often travel, you could have been anywhere, and my note would have reached you far too late to be of use to anyone." He gave Will an odd look, oddly solemn for his usually cheerful face. "I was happy to learn, if only by chance, that you were in fact still alive."

Guilt flickered through Will. "I'm sorry. I should have written more than I did."

Robert shrugged. "It was rather amusing, actually. I had gone a few villages over on a favor, and was sitting in a tavern. A group of soldiers was in the back corner, talking and laughing, complaining about their superior officers. Two of them were from the city, and started bitching about their Captain." Amusement lit their eyes. "Another fellow thought he sounded familiar, and asked them to describe him. 'Right fierce bastard, wields two swords, always wears a crimson sash, temper to shake the very earth when it's riled."

Will felt his face heat. "If I have such a temper, people should learn not to rouse it." He looked at Rob. "I am sorry," he said again.

"You're home now," Robert replied. "Even if you are being bloody obnoxious about my being an outlaw. I think I make a fine one."

"I think you're a fool," Will snapped. "However, I have others to beat before I return to you." So saying, he turned on his heel and faced Little John, lifting his sword and pointing. "You next."

Little John groaned, and started to launch into a protest, when a great crashing sound came through the trees – but even as everyone drew swords and bows, Tuck came into view.

"Will," he gasped out, clearly having run the whole way, face red from the exertion. "Trouble. Mayor—searching for—you know—"

Not waiting for him to finish, Scarlet sheathed his sword and ran to his horse. "Stay here," he snarled, when Robert made to come with him. "Do you think any good will come of showing your face now?" He gentled slightly at the hurt look on his brother's face. "I need you to go to the castle, protect her. If something seems wrong, take her to safety."

"I vow it," Robert replied, and turned to start barking orders.

He had a moment to be impressed at the speed and smoothness with which Robert's orders were obeyed, but in the next he was rushing away, racing through the woods as quickly as he dared.

As he reached the town, he slowed his pace, not wanting to look rushed and panicked.

Not far from the church, he found the crowd of people – including a heavily built man dressed in rich velvet and wool in bright jewel tones, sitting astride a white horse, sneering down at someone Will could not see. All around them, people were stone silent, fear and anxiety thick upon the air.

A few heard him, and whispered to still others, until attention seemed as much upon him as the pompously dressed oaf on the white horse, whom he presumed was the Mayor.

The stirring of the crowd drew the Mayor's attention, and he looked up and spotted Will. "You…you are Captain Scarlock."

His spine stiffened, not liking the tone, or the look, or the fact this man knew him on sight when he knew they had never met before. "Yes, my lord," he said stiffly.

"Mmm," the Mayor said, combing through his black beard thoughtfully. "I received a missive two days ago that you had deserted, and should be watched for here, as it is your home, I believe?"

"I have most certainly not deserted!" Will snapped, temper getting the better of him. He reined it in with an effort. "I am no deserter, my lord."

The Mayor merely lifted one brow. "Then why are you here, instead of where you were posted, without permission or having given notice?"

"I was attempting to explain it to you," said a cold voice, and Will looked toward it, seeing now that the Mayor had been talking to the Sheriff.

Abraham looked at him briefly, blue eyes flickering briefly with something Will could not read.

The Mayor flicked his gaze back to Abraham. "What?"

"As I have been trying to tell you," Abraham said with what Will thought was a shocking amount of disrespect and impudence, "he is here on my behalf."

Will froze with shock, and barely bit back an urge to demand what in the world he was talking about.

Abraham continued, "You have told me to concentrate my energies on the outlaws poaching and stealing in his Majesty's forest. I am doing so. We believe the bandits to be a group of yeomen, all of them having one trifling reason or another to blame the crown for their personal woes. One of those men, I believe, is one Robert Locksley. This is his brother, Captain Will Scarlock. He has agreed to assist me with hunting the outlaws, as no one would know Robert Locksley and his devious ways better. All the proper paperwork was sent; do not take issue with me or the Captain if your people cannot do their jobs. Until further notice, he is my deputy."

The Mayor did not look convinced. "Yet it was his commanding officer who contacted me about his desertion."

"Oh, yes, and their record-keeping skills are exceeded only by your own," Abraham snapped. "I have all my documents in order. It is not my fault if the rest are too deep in their cups to recall who they told to go where and when."

"Fetch me your paperwork, then," the Mayor snapped back.

"Fine," Abraham retorted. "Let us go to my home, well over an hour away, prove that I speak the truth, then come back here to resume the work we left off to look at a bit of paper. I do not know about you, my lord, but I have better things to do with my time than prove the general incompetence of the army."

The Mayor looked at him. "One day, Sheriff, your impudence will cease to be amusing and I will finally kill you."

"Yes, my lord," Abraham replied with a shrug. "Now that we have cleared the good Captain has every right to be here, was there anything else I can do to assist you?"

The Mayor peered at Will for several minutes, eyes narrowed in suspicion and thought – but even Will could see he was too lazy to really press the matter, and likely would forget it entirely once Will was out of sight. "Yes," he said at last. "Lady Marion has run away, or been kidnapped, we are not yet certain which. Has anyone suspicious passed through here?"

Abraham snorted. "Oh, yes, we saw a noblewoman come right through here and let her pass without remark. Do I look like a fool to you? No such person has passed through here, and if she had I would have sent word straight away of peculiar travelers in Nottingham."

"I should lock you away," the Mayor snapped. "Guard your tongue, Sheriff, else you will cease to be amusing very quickly."

"Yes, my lord. My apologies."

The Mayor sniffed, then dismissed the matter. "Keep me apprised, and see that the paperwork for your little Captain is sent to me, so I may send confirmation back to those fools in the city and tell them to leave me in peace."

"Yes, my lord," Abraham said again.

With a final sniff, the Mayor motioned to his private guard and rode off.

The crowd dispersed with remarkable speed, but to judge by the looks he received, Will did not doubt they were rushing off to tell everyone else that Will Scarlet was now the Sheriff's deputy, brought home to catch his brother, the notorious Robin Hood.

He rubbed his temple, then slowly looked up – and realized that not quite all the crowd had dispersed.

Abraham stood looking at him, then slowly turned and mounted his own horse. He looked back once, eyes the color of an evening sky, and lacking the coldness Will had seen earlier that morning. No, those were the eyes he remembered from the previous night.

Then Abraham looked away, and rode off.

Drawing a deep breath, letting it out slowly, Will then flicked his reins and followed him.



Part Two: Duty, Honor, Love

He managed to keep hold of his temper until they were well clear of the town, and Abraham stopped by a small copse of trees just short of the forest proper.

"What are you about?" Will demanded, all but throwing himself off his horse, stalking toward Abraham as he dismounted as well. "Why did you do that?"

Abraham regarded him levelly, eyes neither hot nor cold. The man's moods changed faster than even Prince John's. "I am helping us both," he said.

"I do not see how," Will said coolly, barely keeping a reign on his temper, hand going to the hilt of one sword.

"You will help me with your brother," Abraham replied, "and I will see to it that Marion is kept secret and safe."

Will moved almost without thought, drawing one sword and swinging.

He was startled that steel struck steel, arms jarring from the unexpected impact. It had been a long time since someone could draw and move faster than he. It didn't stop him, however, merely infuriated him all the more. "You—" He snarled, rearing back and then lunging forward again.

Back and forth across the small clearing they went, for how long he did not know, too involved in the fight to bother noting the passage of time.

The sudden realization that he was beginning to enjoy the sparing shot through him, and with a snarl he suddenly withdraw, shoving Abraham away and stepping away himself, angrily sheathing his sword.

"Finished?" Abraham asked, panting for breath, sweat gleaming on his skin – but there was a glint in his hard eyes that seemed to say he had been enjoying the bout as well.

Will cursed beneath his breath. "You may threaten all you like, Sheriff, but I will not hand over my brother. Not to you, not to anyone. I would sooner take my own life."

"I did not say help me capture him," Abraham replied levelly, sheathing his own sword. "I said help me with him."

"What?" Will asked, frowning in confusion.

Growing angry again, he stalked to Abraham and gripped his tunic, shoving him back hard against a tree. "What game do you play?" he snarled. "I do not appreciate your forcing my hand in this, or making me quite possibly an enemy to my friends and family." He ignored that Abraham seemed somewhat amused. "How did you know about Marion?"

Abraham snorted. "The moment he said it, I knew who it must be occupying the castle that until yesterday had remained deserted. I had already heard that the Lady Marion was missing – and your sudden return here, Captain Scarlock? Come now, the pieces are not that hard to put together. If not for my interference, the Mayor may have figured it out himself. You help me, I help you."

"I will not betray my people," Will hissed.

One moment he was pinning Abraham, the next he was pinned to the ground. "I never said you would help me betray them," Abraham said, so close they were nearly nose to nose, and Will tried so hard not to notice the barely-discernable freckles dusting his nose, the rich blue of his eyes, the way he smelled, like grass and leather, and utterly male.

Pathetic, he thought angrily. The man was essentially blackmailing him, and he was fighting unholy lust. That wasn't pathetic – it was contemptible.

"All I want it your help," Abraham continued. "Will you cooperate, or must I beat you awhile longer?"

Will bared his teeth. "I drew even with one sword. If ever I draw both, you will not be the one doing the beating, Sheriff, I promise you."

Something flickered in Abraham's eyes. "You can call me by my name," he said quietly.

"That would imply a degree of acquaintanceship I have desire to see implied," Will replied.

"Will you help me?" Abraham asked again.

This time it was the voice and eyes of the man he'd encountered in the evening, and it threw Will off his guard. "You make no sense," he replied. "How can I agree to anything with a man who seems to be two?"

Abraham said nothing, but he did let Will go and stand up. "Come," he said, "we are due to meet several of the mayor's personal guard in an hour's time, and it will take us half that to reach the meeting place."

"I want to know what you are about," Will said, not moving toward his horse.

"Come or not," Abraham replied, "I cannot help you if you will not help me."

He did not give Will a chance to respond, but kicked his horse and rode off.

Swearing loudly, Will mounted his own horse and followed.

It took them just over half an hour to reach the spot where Abraham had arranged to meet several large and burly men, wearing the Mayor's symbol, who in turn guarded a carriage which was clearly for the use of transporting gold and other valuables.

Two of them, in fact.

"This idea will not work," Abraham said lightly, even as several of his own men drew up. "If Robin Hood were this much a fool, he would have been captured long ago."

The Mayor's men said nothing, merely stared at Will.

"My deputy, Will Scarlock," Abraham said, motioning. "Now, if you want my advice—"

"The Mayor is sick of your advice, seeing as you still have not caught the ruddy bastard," said one of the guards. "We will be doing it his way, and you'd best hope your men can keep up with us."

Abraham stared hard at him until the guard finally dropped his gaze. "My men will as like as not be forced to slow down to keep pace with the lot of you."

The guards grumbled and swore and muttered, but did not voice any protest loud enough to be disciplined for it, and turned away to see to the last of their preparations before heading out.

"What is going on here?" Will asked in a low voice, moving closer to Abraham, who watched the proceedings with a blank expression. All his soldiers save one had gone to assist, the last lingering close to occasionally bark out an order or correction.

Abraham turned to face him. "The Mayor's plan is to send two carriages – one directly through Sherwood, to attract the attention of Robin Hood, while the other goes by a more indirect route along the edge of Sherwood hopefully to make it safely while the decoy keeps the outlaws busy.

Will nodded, but his attention was caught by Abraham's second in command. Third, now, he supposed, since technically Will was his Deputy now.

He knew that face – only this morning the man had escorted him through Sherwood to his brother's camp.

The Sheriff of Nottingham had just explained the whole of the plan to one of the Merry Men.

Barely holding back his laughter, Will summoned more questions. "What do the carriages contain?"

"Tax money, as well as that obtained through fees, the coin taken up by the agisters and foresters. I believe it also contains betrothal gifts, for the Mayor is taking the younger daughter of some noble to wife – or hoping, anyway. That his county is overrun with outlaws does not endear him to his future father in law, or so is my impression." He shrugged. "I hope the gifts he sends are not terribly valuable, for I doubt they will reach their destination."

At his words, one of the guards looked up and scowled. "You may not be able to catch a few outlaws, Sheriff, but we are not so easily overcome as you."

"Indeed," Abraham said with a smirk. "If you succeed, gladly will I offer my apologies and buy you several rounds at the tavern. However, if you fail, you will do the same for me."

"So be it," the guard shot back. "A bargain struck. We will get by this Robin Hood, or offer his head to the Mayor as a wedding present."

"Do not boast before you comprehend that of which you speak," Abraham said. "Is all secure?"

"Awaiting your approval, Sheriff."

Nodding, Abraham dismounted and strode to the two carriages. "Deputy, would you examine the second carriage?"

Biting back a nasty retort, because he really and truly hated that he had been forced into this until he could find a better solution – and the thought of how his brother would react to the news gave him a throbbing headache – Will obediently dismounted and strode to the second carriage.

They were heavy, the money carriages, almost more metal than would, impervious to most attacks. Heavy iron plate, the one small door locked, with only the Mayor and someone in the city having the proper keys. Extremely slow moving, and horses would have to be both greater in number and changed more frequently, but they were the most secure means on ensuring the money reached its destination. Sherwood was not the only place infested with outlaws.

Though, Will had to conceded with silent amusement, it did boast the most successful outlaws. He would never tell Robert that, but he had always exceeded at trouble.

"All seems well," he said several minutes later, wondering idly how Robert would break into it, for the carriage was indeed quite secure. It would take days to break through it, if it could be done at all.

"This one as well," Abraham said after a moment. "Very well, Guard, you may proceed." He turned to the soldier who had been barking orders earlier. "Return to Nottingham, tell the men to be ready to move out. My firm belief is that this trick will not deceive Robin Hood."

"Yes, sir," the soldier said, and immediately turned and rode off.

Will wondered if he would report straight to Robert, or relay the message to Tuck.

He turned to Abraham, to see what they were to do now, and caught him smirking ever so faintly. They locked eyes, and disbelief shot through him.

Abraham knew. Sure as Will breathed, Abraham knew his little soldier was one of the outlaws.

Then Abraham turned away, breaking their gazes, and strode back to his horse. "Come," he said once he'd mounted. "I've much to show and teach you, Deputy. I hope you are well-rested, for it is going to be a long, hard day."

He was well-rested, but Will did not bother to say it was only because he had slept hard after vigorously imagining Abraham taking him hard and fast on the forest floor. The temptation to voice that statement was tempting, but not worth the torturous death it would earn him.

Furious with himself and the entire situation, he mounted his horse and obediently waited alongside Abraham as the carriages moved out, remaining until they were well out of sight.

"This way," Abraham said quietly when it had gone. "I am certain we will be interrupted before too long, when that carriage is robbed, but until then I can reacquaint you with your home, and teach you your new duties."

Will glared at him. "So long as we are clear, Sheriff, that I do not trust you, do not like you, and will walk away the very first chance I get."

Something like pain flashed briefly through Abraham's eyes, so quickly gone that had he not been glaring so intently, Will would have missed it.

"You make no sense," he said. "Who and what are you? What is your game?"

Abraham only shrugged. "I need your help, and whether or not you like it, you will require mine. I do not know the reason Lady Marion is hiding away in Huntingdon Castle, but I know that keeping her safely there will be no easy task. Already they know she is missing, and you cannot simply run away every time they find where you have hidden her."

Will curled one hand around the hilt of a sword, all but vibrating with anger. How had he ever thought, for one moment, this was a good man? "I do not like you," he said fervently. "You will pay for forcing my hand in this matter."

"No one likes me," Abraham said. "What matter does it make to me, to have one more enemy?"

He turned away, guiding his horse from the clearing.

Will did not immediately follow him, still confused despite the anger making his blood run hot.

"Why were you so different last night?" He called out, hating himself for being so weak, but needing to know.

Abraham stiffened, went still, his horse nickering in confused annoyance at being so abruptly halted. Will did not think he was going to reply, but just as he was about to give up and move on, the answer came back to him, brief and clipped in tone, but with a hint of something like regret. "A moment of weakness."

Then Abraham was moving on, forcing Will to hurry to catch up to him.

The silence thereafter was broken only as they worked, making rounds of the general area, occasionally pausing to speak with soldiers Abraham had scattered about, stopping for nearly an hour to talk to one of the foresters which had displaced Robert or another of his band.

It was well into the afternoon when Abraham finally called a halt in front of a small, unassuming cottage that looked as though it had seen much better days. "Long past time we stopped for food, I think." He tethered his horse in front of the cottage, then moved to the door – and paused, looking over his shoulder at Will, who had not moved. "Coming? Or would you rather starve?"

He would rather satisfy his hunger for violence, but Will managed to keep hold of his temper. That would not last much longer; he was all too aware that the remarks made by all and sundry in regards to his temper were no exaggeration.

Inside, the cottage was cool, and even simpler than he had expected from taking in the dilapidated outside – one large room, a small fireplace, a narrow bed, and a small table and bench against the opposite wall. A small chest was at the foot of the bed, and made up the last of the furniture. So far as clutter went, there was very little – a heavy jug sat on the table, filled with either cider or ale. A cloth wrapped bundle was beside it, probably food. A spare tunic and hose were heaped on the chest, with another pair of boots alongside. Whatever else the Sheriff might posses, it would be in the chest or hidden away.

Will frowned, confused all over again by the sight of the Sheriff's home. Well, whatever it may be. Perhaps a resting post, for the position of Sheriff was a prominent and prestigious one. The warring that ensued when such a post became available was nigh on terrifying – and far worse was the scheming and backstabbing which occurred to see to it the posts became available.

The Sheriff of Nottingham could have, by rights, used Will's castle. Abandoned for years, and close to the town of Nottingham, it made an ideal place from which to oversee the whole of the county. Pretending for a moment there was not a good chance he was stealing some of the money unfairly taken from the people, he would draw a generous salary from the crown. More than enough to keep him in a good home, good food, and a few luxuries besides.

There was no reason, that Will could think of, that would cause someone of Abraham's position and power to live in what amounted to a hovel.

"Is this your home?" he asked, hovering in the doorway.

Abraham lifted one shoulder in an absent shrug. "Nottingham is my home; this is merely where I rest." He unknotted the bundle on the table and set out the bread, meat, and cheese within it. Then he moved to the bed and began to strip off his leathers, setting them neatly out to be easily put back on later.

Sweat made his tunic cling, and he had not worn a surcoat – probably because between the tunic and the leathers, he was plenty warm.

Not knowing what else to do, Will copied his movements, stripping off his leathers to enjoy a meal without the weight of even light armor. At least out here he had no need to wear the much heavier chain mail.

Yet. He sensed that if things kept getting worse, rather than better, he would shortly have to resume wearing full armor.

Out of armor, he smoothed down his own sweaty tunic and made a note to have some more made, something he had been meaning to do for some time.

Turning from where he had set his leathers at the foot of the bed, he started to walk toward the table – but faltered.

Abraham looked down quickly enough almost to mask it, but lust was a rare enough thing to see in the eyes of another man that Will knew it on sight.

Surely not?

On the contrary, he thought with frustration, why not? The only thing worse than lusting after the man tormenting his family and friends was to know the feeling was mutual. That if he were not a bloody confusing, two faced bastard, they may even now be furthering the relationship between Sheriff and Deputy.

Damn it, he wished he had managed the time to sneak off before fleeing with Marion. In the city, it was not hard to find the secret, shadowed places where a man might slake unholy thirst. Out here, where there was no such thing as anonymity, he feared he would be doomed never to find such relief again.

Not that he should find it, or want to give in to such a damning want, but it was a hard want to deny. He had tried most of his life to pretend his tastes and wants were normal.

They were not, though at the moment he fervently wished they were, because what was he to do about the fact he was lusting hard for the Black Sheriff. Why did he lust still, when the man was a proven bastard?

Deciding he did not want, at present, to hear the answer, he shoved all thoughts of such things as far to the back of his mind as he could and took his place next to Abraham at the small table.

"I think you will make a good deputy," Abraham said, "though that was obvious, given your impressive military career to date."

"You are hardly giving me a choice," Will replied.

Abraham sighed softly, the sound barely audible. "I am not your enemy, though I do not think you will ever believe that."

"Tell me why you are so different from the man I met last night," Will said. "You seemed a good man – today you are very much the Black Sheriff I have heard so much about since my arrival. I cannot trust such a man."

"I would say," Abraham said, voice taking on an edge as he looked up, "that you have your own weaknesses and secrets, and have no call to mistrust me for having the same." His dark eyes flashed and burned.

Will swallowed and looked away, suddenly too sick and scared to stomach another bite of food. Protests and demands to know how Abraham would dare to suggest—but he had not suggested a thing, because there was no reason to voice what they both so clearly know. "You excel at blackmail," he said bitterly.

"I need your help," Abraham replied. "That is all there is too it – I would prefer you give it willingly, but I will take it by force if I must."

"Then tell me what is going on," Will said. "To expect anything but hate of me when I am left in the dark and told to betray my brother else milady suffers…what do you truly expect my reaction to be?"

Abraham shook his head. "Not yet. I am risking too much trusting you this far – I did not live this long by being that foolish. For all I believe otherwise, you could be in league with Prince John or one of his ilk. I am no fool."

Will snorted. "You are the one all claim to be a close friend of the Prince," he said.

"Oh?" Abraham said, laughing. He hefted the earthenware jug and took a healthy swallow. "How amusing." He set the jug down and looked at Will, licking a trace of what smelled like ale from his lips. "I have never met his Highness, and I only saw briefly once, years ago as a lad. If we are close friends, no one has seen fit to inform either of us of that fact."

Will frowned. "I was told you were appointed by him to this position."

"Was I?" Abraham seemed more amused than ever. "Nottingham's image of me is vastly more interesting than the reality."

Before Will could think what to say to that, Abraham stood and bundled away the remaining food. Then he strode to the bed and began to reassume his leathers. "Come, I expected to hear of the failure of the carriages long before now. I have a suspicion that Robin Hood is playing with me, today."

"More like the mayor," Will said before he thought.

Abraham laughed again. "True. I am certain he is making the Mayor suffer for his arrogance. I did try to warn him."

You knew because you spelled the plan out for the outlaws, Will though privately, but did not voice the thought. Like as not, Abraham would deny it. He seemed, as ever, to be two people – letting Will know he knew things, but not directly admitting it.

The entire matter was giving him a fierce headache, and if not for Marion he would simply knock his brother upside the head and drag him off to the city wit him, where at least the corruption was the normal sort and he knew all the backstabbers and how to combat them.

Stifling a sigh, he fetched his own leathers and put them back on, resettling his swords upon his back.

"How did you come to use two blades?" Abraham asked as they strode outside. "I have never seen anyone wield two – not with much success, anyway. I have seen men try it." He eyed Will. "I wonder know if perhaps their attempts were inspired by witnessing your displays."

Will shrugged. "One is too easy. My brother and I started lessons almost as soon as we could walk, I would vow. By the time I was old enough to wield a proper sword, I was the best lad in the village. It was not long after I assumed two blades for a challenge, one day. I have stuck with it ever since, though I seldom have cause to draw both."

Abraham smiled briefly as he mounted his horse, and it was gone as he turned back around to face Will. "Perhaps someday you can prove your challenge from our earlier fight."

Had he challenged Abraham? His confusion must have shown on his face, because this time Abraham grinned and said, "You said that you drew even with me wielding one sword, and that if you ever drew both, you would be the one doing the beating."

Will silently cursed his temper. "I cannot see where we would ever engage in a friendly match, Sheriff. If I ever draw two swords on you, it will likely be because I intend to kill you."

Abraham shrugged, smiling that sad smile Will too well remembered from the previous night – and he was damned thinking about those few minutes. He wished they had never happened, that this man was easy to hate. "You are not the only who wants me dead; if you want to kill me, simply put it off a few more days."

He moved out before Will could speak, a habit that was beginning to grate upon Will's nerves.

Muttering curses to himself, wishing for a good fight on which to vent his temper, he followed after the Deputy.

They avoided the village, for which he was grateful, though he still saw far too many familiar faces that watched him with a mixture of sadness, wariness, and anger. He fought against hunching his shoulders, hating that his own people no longer trusted him now.

Then again, he had been gone more than a decade. What right did he have to ask for anything?

The thought left him depressed – nearly despondent. He had thought that, despite the problems surrounding Marion, his homecoming would be a happy occasion.

He was pulled from his thoughts as they rode through the forest. Will tensed all over again, wondering if his brother would do something stupid, like kill the Sheriff. Or at least injure him.

Perhaps his presence was making Robert consider, because other than a few suspicious rustlings of leaves that could have been animals or the wind if he hadn't known better, nothing transpired.

They reached a wide bend in the road a few minutes later, following the tracks left by the horses and carriage – and found every last guard stripped to his smallclothes and bound to a tree.

Will pinched the bridge of his nose, and made note to give Robert a thrashing.