“I’mnotgoing to let my father trade himself for me.”
“It’s going to be okay. I’ll walk over there with you. We’ll figure it out and get you home.”
Home.I refused to drop the heavy metal pot and used it to prod Baron in the back. “Walk in front of me then. And keep your hands in the air.”
“Really? A pot?”
“Hey, you took all my other weapons away and you always put the axe higher than I can reach, so this is what I’ve got. Now move it.”
Baron walked in front of me and led me toward the ruckus in the center of camp. We turned around a tent, and a scene of utter chaos met my eyes. Father and all his best men were there and fighting hard. Little John pounded the heads of two guards together, Father shot arrows left and right, and the rest of the band clashed sword against sword with the sheriff’s men.
“Father!” I screamed, and ran, passing Baron. He must have moved with me since I was not abruptly yanked back.
I was so focused on crossing to him, to safety, that I failed to notice a hairy arm reach over to grab me. The sheriff held me in a headlock so tight that it cut off my air supply. “Stop!” he roared above the melee.
Everyone froze. Father aimed an arrow at the sheriff’s face but didn’t fire.
I hoisted the pot to strike, but the sheriff was faster. His hand closed on my wrist and twisted so hard that I nearly chipped a tooth from clenching my jaw against the pain. The pot fell from my fingers and clanged on the ground, rolling to a stop halfway between Father and me. My lungs burned for air as the sheriff’s arm tightened around my throat. Sound narrowed to a high, urgent ringing in my ears and my vision narrowed as darkness crowded the edges of my sight.
Instinct pushed my hands up to try and pry the pressure off my neck, but he used my distraction against me. Within seconds, he had released the headlock only to seize my wrists and wrench them together behind my back. Pain flared along my shoulders as my arms were forced up and back. I ground my teeth against the pain yet again, my pulse pounding in my temples.
Still using me as a human shield, the sheriff pulled out his dagger and held it against my neck, just above my chain and collar. “Release that arrow, Robin, and your daughter dies with me.”
Father didn’t put his bow down, but his grip relaxed slightly.
“Let’s everyone calm down and discuss negotiations,” Baron said in his level voice.
No one moved.
“Put down your weaponsnowor I’ll slit this girl’s throat!” the sheriff screamed, then pressed the knife harder to show how serious his threat was.
Father and his band dropped their weapons.Don’t!I thought, trying to convey my message wordlessly to Father.It is a trap! A trick!
Baron gestured for the sheriff’s men to lower their weapons as well. Swords clanged to the ground. Only the sheriff remained armed, knife blade pressed firmly against my neck. I tried to stomp on his foot, but he moved away and dug the sharp knifeinto my flesh. I scrunched my eyes tight and refused to let out so much as a squeak.
“Here’s the deal,” the sheriff said. “This brat for youandyour men. Take it or leave it.”
I tried to shake my head at Father, but the knife was pressed too hard. The deal wasn’t worth it. One person was not worth ten, no matter who the person was. I wasn’t worth that heavy of a price. Surrender could not be an option.
“We turn ourselves over, and she goes free?”
“Yes,” said the sheriff. “This tramp has caused enough mischief around here that we’ll be glad to see the back of her.”
Father exchanged glances with the members of his band. They nodded at him, all ready and willing to sacrifice themselves for my freedom. I looked at them all. Father, Little John, Will Scarlet, Will Stutely, Jerome, Dale, Much the Miller’s Son, Lincoln, James, and Alan.
No! They couldn’t trade themselves for me, they couldn’t! “Don’t!” I cried out, and the knife cut even deeper into the thin flesh at my throat. I felt hot liquid drip down to stain my tunic as blood began to seep from the wound.
“You’re hurting her,” Baron muttered in an undertone to the sheriff. He tried to tug the sheriff’s knife away from my throat, but the sheriff pulled me away from Baron and as he did so, the knife penetrated even further.
“You know how much this girl likes knives, Baron. I thought she’d be pleased!” the sheriff sneered. Baron frowned and tried again to wrest the knife from his commanding officer, but the sheriff shrugged him off. The blood began to stream steadily from my wound and I bit my lip, refusing to utter a sound. I knew Father would fold immediately if I did.
“She’ll lose a lot more than a few drops of blood if you wait any longer. Give me your answer!” the sheriff shouted at Father.
“What assurance do I have that you will keep your word?” Father called back.
“I swear it!”
My eyes pleaded with Father to not accept.Keep fighting!I wanted to scream but had no more breath to spare. The sheriff twitched the knife and the stabbing pain that followed made me involuntarily gasp as I felt the knife begin to saw into the muscles on my neck.
