Spending time in the company of a witch, seeing the good she could do with her natural healing abilities and her magic; something deep in me had started to crack open. My memories of my mother, and the women who had worked hard to save her and my baby sister, and ultimately failed in their aim. Alessia, my childhood friend who’d felt she had to hide her witchcraft from me, after hearing my father’s words—his hatred—come out of my mouth. Alessia, who I’d killed, accidental though it was, just because she was a witch.
I had spent years hating and fearing witches, and it had served me well for a time. I had found a purpose and a reason to live after losing my mother and being rejected by my father and brothers. But that fear and hate had begun to eat away at something inside of me, and now I wasn’t sure it still served me at all.
I avoided Morgaine’s gaze, instead focusing on the wooden panels beneath our feet, until the wagon slowed and came to a stop.
The driver banged on the side three times; the signal to say we’d arrived. The doors opened and we climbed out into the fine drizzle and chilly Easterly wind. Robin, John and Will were already standing on the edge of the forest, talking in hushed voices as they gestured at the castle, discussing our strategy. I stopped a little way off, hands on my hips, taking in the castle’s grey facade and spotting the handful of guards I could see moving around its battlements. With the weather on our side, a moon hidden by thick, dark clouds, and the early hour, I didn’t think we’d struggle to get inside. There may be a few casualties on the way in, but that was to be expected with these things.
Morgaine stepped up beside me, a dark hood covering her hair, and beneath her cloak she appeared to be wearing trousers. I baulked. “What the devil are you doing?”
She raised an eyebrow. “You didn’t really think I would wait inside the wagon for you? I’m obviously coming inside.”
I slashed my hand through the air. “No. Absolutely not. You are to wait out here where it’s safe.”
She pressed a hand to her heart. “I didn’t know you cared, Dante.”
I growled, “I care that you don’t get us both killed by distracting me from my work,Eleanor.”
She laughed and it sent a not entirely unpleasant shiver down my spine. How could she laugh at a time like this? We were about to put ourselves in incredible danger, the only reason I’d insisted she come along was because the bond wouldn’t allow us to be too far apart. We hadn’t tested the distance the bond would extend, but I felt certain it would be fine from the wagon to the castle.
“I’m coming whether you like it or not. I can help you, and if you’re injured, I can heal you without waiting for you to stumble back to the wagon.” She saw my sceptical expression and added, “What if you’re caught?”
I scoffed. “I won’t get caught.” She didn’t need to know that I fully intended to get myself caught once the prince was dead and the rebels were all trapped within the castle walls. But having her with me might be beneficial in more ways than one, now that she mentioned it. “Fine, but don’t get in my way. And try to keep up.”
She snorted, a sharp retort on her tongue no doubt, but Robin chose that moment to call us all over and inform us it was time to make our move. I pulled my own hood up, obscuring my face, and we set off in the direction of the dungeons.
As we got closer, a guard appeared between the crenellations, a torch lifted above his head. Before I could utter a word of warning, Robin Hood lifted his bow and fired an arrow, taking the man down without a sound. I guessed I knew why the adolescent was a figurehead of the rebellion, with aim like that.
We hurried forward, pressing against the stone and keeping to the shadows. Another guard stood just inside the gatehouse; Will reached through the metal bars of the portcullis and slit his throat in one swift motion. Then Robin fired an arrow that triggered the mechanism to lift the heavy metal door, and it slowly began to rise.
I was beginning to think I may have underestimated these rebels. But there wasn’t time to dwell on it, we were inside the castle walls now, and far more exposed than we had been outside of them. I adjusted my hood to keep my face hidden and jogged towards the dungeon, followed closely behind by Morgaine.
We lined up against the wall and awaited our orders. “This is it,” said Robin in a stage whisper. “From here, we split up. Grab as much as you can, and try to avoid any more confrontations. We’re not here for unnecessary bloodshed, we’re here to take back what is rightfully ours.”
I despised taking orders from such a young lad, but the rebels had chosen their frontman, and I wouldn’t have to follow his commands for much longer. Not after tonight.
We all nodded and slunk off into the darkness, looking for our designated entrance; mine was a door that led into the kitchens. I’d chosen it myself, indicating that it only gave access to rooms with a low chance of valuables being found, and I was unlikely to be seen and recognised.
In truth, it was directly beneath the banquet hall, which was in turn, directly beneath Prince John’s private quarters.
“What are we doing?” Morgaine hissed as we made our way through the kitchen, hurrying to keep up. “Shouldn’t we justhide out in here until enough time has passed to sneak back to the wagon?”
She made a good point, we could have taken the silverware and high-tailed it out of here, but my plan was a little more complicated than that.
“I need to find something, you stay here and I’ll be right back.”
I heard Morgaine scoff, her footsteps never slowing. “I’m not letting you out of my sight, Sheriff.” I felt a strange tug in my chest but put it down to nerves.
We followed the servant's corridor to the lushly carpeted main hall and found the stairs. I slid my dagger from its sheath and weighed it in my palm, prepared for an attack. But none came. The hallway was deserted. Luck was finally on our side.
Jogging lightly up two flights of stairs, our footfall cushioned by the thick, woollen carpet, we finally reached Prince John’s chamber. I pressed a finger to my lips and indicated for Morgaine to stay put outside of the room. I opened the door and stepped inside, expecting a dark room with the prince fast asleep in his four-poster bed.
Instead, Prince John sat at a desk with a goblet of wine in his hand and a satisfied expression. “Good work, Lord di Reinalto,” he said. My blood ran cold. What was he talking about? Had he been tipped off that we were on our way? I couldn’t work out what was going on.
Morgaine gasped behind me and I turned, but before I could look at her, a tall, slender man in long robes stepped out from the shadows in the corner of the prince’s room.
“Merlin, deal with her. The High Sheriff and I have much to discuss.”
21
