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"So I hear."

Her gaze dropped to my collar. Of course it did. The woman had survived seventy-one years without missing much of anything.

"Hm." She studied me for another moment. "Your grandmother would want to know whether he's kind."

"He is."

"Then I've nothing else to say about it."

I helped her down from the wagon. Once the prisoners were free, I sent all three east with Much and two of the Miller brothers. A family living above Edwinstowe owed me a favor from the previous winter, and I knew they'd shelter them.

"Don't use the same path twice," I warned Much.

He nodded and led them away. Then I turned my attention to the captain.

More specifically, his belt.

The Crown had an unfortunate habit of putting everything in writing, which was very convenient for people like me.

I found the order folded into thirds, sealed with Fitzwalter's red wax.

A tower and three martlets.

I broke the seal and read it while standing among the damaged wagons.

Most of the document was ordinary enough. Three prisoners charged with aiding a declared outlaw, the designated route, and an escort of twelve soldiers.

Then I reached the final paragraph.

I read it once.

Then again.

By the fourth reading, my stomach had begun to turn.

In the event the outlaw known as the Ghost of Sherwood should attempt the rescue of these persons, she is to be taken alive and unharmed and delivered into my own hands. No man is to strike at her under any circumstance. Any man who kills her will answer to me personally.

Alive.

Unharmed.

Delivered into Fitzwalter's hands.

For six years, that bastard had wanted me dead. He'd sent men into Sherwood with orders to kill me, paid for arrows meant for my chest, and had my execution warrant announced in public squares.

Now he was threatening his own soldiers if they so much as injured me.

Something had changed. And whatever it was, Edmund Fitzwalter suddenly needed me alive. I looked down at the order again.

I'd rescued three innocent people, but the paper in my hand worried me more than the soldiers we'd just fought.

"Robin."

Merry stood beside me, studying the date at the top of the document.

"Look when this was sealed."

I did. The day before the arrests. Fitzwalter had issued orders for a prisoner transport before anyone had been taken into custody.