Chapter Twenty-One

“Has Sparrow come?” For at least the third time, Rennie asked the question, and Martin sent her a sharp look. She drew a breath and struggled to control her emotions. For days now, she had kept them locked down tight, afraid to let them stray where they naturally wanted to go, for fear Martin would glean what she felt for Sparrow. She thought she had succeeded reasonably well. But on this, the third day, her resistance was in shreds. As the scattered parties slowly drifted to Oakham, prepared to lay Lil’s body to rest, her uneasiness grew. Most of those now gathering had stories of pursuit and danger, tales of the Sheriff’s men. Only Sparrow’s group had yet to arrive.

“Nay,” replied Madlyn, sounding as worried as Rennie felt. “Not yet.”

“Oakham has become a perilous place,” Rennie said, also not for the first time. She fidgeted like a woman dancing on hot coals; she wanted Lil safely laid to rest, and this thing done.

And she needed to see Sparrow, with an intensity that frightened her. Her eyes longed to rest on him, her heart wanted to be at home with him, her fingers itched to caress him.

She added, “We cannot linger here long. What if another troop of soldiers arrives?” They had already faced two small parties before finding refuge deep in Sherwood—Rennie, Martin, Simon, and the two others who, along with Madlyn, made up their group had fought valiantly. Rennie remained unhurt, but Martin now bore wounds upon his wounds.

The three days had seemed three score long.

She glanced up to find Martin’s eyes on her. All too aware he could sense her feelings even as she sensed his, she once more caught herself up, hard.

“Why do you fret so?” He sounded annoyed.

Rennie tossed her head. “We cannot have a burial without Lil’s body, can we?”

Sudden awareness seized her then and turned her gaze northward into the wood. It pricked all over her skin and played like a song in her mind. Relief hit her in a staggering wave. All the time they had been apart, she had caught no thoughts from Sparrow’s mind, not so much as a hint of comfort. But now—

Wren?

Sparrow, Sparrow, Sparrow.

Incautiously, she said, “They come,” and ran to meet them.

Martin followed, as did Adam, now serving as headman of Oakham, with Madlyn in their wake. The party came slowly, Timothy and Roderick carrying Lil’s swaddled corpse and Alric leaning heavily on Sparrow’s arm.

The old man looked shockingly unwell. Gray in the face, his expression set in a stoical mask of pain, he appeared frail and almost powerless, his grief palpable.

Compassion struck Rennie, an overflow of Sparrow’s compassion. Their eyes met.

Wren.

My love.

The worry seemed to lift from Sparrow like mist at sunrise. His shoulders straightened and his head rose.

Madlyn went forward and took Alric’s hands. “Old friend, you look unwell.”

Alric nodded soberly. “We gather here to bury a dear one. I shall not be long in following her.”

“Do not say that.” The words came from Sparrow. His beautiful, dark eyes held troubled concern.

Alric gave him a rueful smile. “Why not? There is always value, lad, in speaking the truth.”

****

Lil, so well-loved, called forth floods of tears as she was laid to rest. The service was, perforce, brief. Alric kept himself upright until the end, when he sank to the ground above the grave. He was senseless when they lifted him up again.

“We cannot linger,” said Martin, tense as a bowstring. “Should we be found here, Oakham will burn.”

“I need time to tend him, if I hope to save him,” Madlyn told her son. “I have not Lil’s skill, but I will do what I can.”

“Soldiers!” The cry came from the south end of the village. “They ride this way from Nottingham, with Sir Lambert at their head.”

“You must scatter once more. Quickly!” Adam told them.

“Aye. Someone help me.” Martin caught Alric up in his arms. Sparrow stepped forward to share the burden.

Wren?

I am with you. This time we will not be parted.

As so often before, the outlaws melted away by twos and threes into the forest. This time, though, Rennie felt she left part of her heart behind, lying beside Geofrey. How could she hope to go on without Lil’s steady presence, her strength and wisdom? How could she imagine filling such emptiness?

Their group numbered but four in addition to Alric: Martin, Sparrow, Madlyn, and Rennie herself. Her bow on her shoulder and exhaustion pulling at her limbs, Rennie brought up the rear, keeping constant watch on their back trail.

Yet the wood held its silence. She caught no outcry from behind, no sound of mounted soldiers, no hint of smoke. Birds wove their songs overhead, and new, unfolding leaves rustled.

Rennie reached for Sparrow’s mind.

My love, how I missed you.

And I, you. Your absence was a wound on my heart.

His thoughts sang in her mind even as the birds sang overhead. Rennie drew a deep breath and felt herself steady.

Martin glanced at her over his shoulder. Did he sense the connection, or did he but check their progress? Unsure, Rennie strove to rein in her desire. It had been one thing, keeping her feelings in check when she and Sparrow were apart. Now that they traveled together, could she hope to hide the truth from Martin? She determined she would not speak again to Sparrow in her mind.

Yet when they paused at last, too spent to go on, she had to fight her need to go to him, touch his hand, bury her face in his shoulder. He and Martin sat side by side, while Madlyn provided what care she could to Alric, who had not yet regained his senses.

She went to Madlyn’s side. “How is he? Can you tell?”

Madlyn glanced into Rennie’s face and shook her head. “It may be his heart is tired. I cannot tell.”

Martin spoke unexpectedly. “He has chosen to die. He does not wish to live without Lil. Can you not see that?” Rennie once more felt his gaze on her. “Now perhaps you begin to understand the strength of the bond between them.”

Rennie turned her eyes on Alric. Eyelids like thin, withered leaves closed the doors to his soul. He looked peaceful.

Martin spoke again, sounding aggrieved. “The truth is we have no time to prepare ourselves for what is upon us. With Alric thus, we three must be ready to step into our places, whether we want to or no.”

Wryly, Rennie said, “I barely understand my place, or what I am meant to do in it. It will be hard enough just going on without Lil.”

“And Geofrey, and Alric,” Sparrow conceded. “I would have given you more time, Wren, to get used to what lies before us.”

“Decisions must be made,” Martin declared hotly, “and one in particular. Until that is done, we cannot move forward.”

That decision had been made, Rennie acknowledged in her own mind. But how would Martin react when he learned of her choice? She could feel his emotions now, barely controlled. What if he could not accept her choice of Sparrow? What if he could not bring himself to replace the man who even now lay dying?

****

The moon rose slowly through a wattle-work of tree branches, shedding an indistinct light. Alric never stirred, and Madlyn tended him as best she could before curling up beside him and falling asleep.

Weariness pulled at Rennie also, yet something else pulled still more strongly. She took her turn at watch even though the wood seemed almost uncannily quiet. And she awaited but one thing: for Martin to sleep.

Wren? The call penetrated her light doze and roused her instantly. Need flared brightly at the sound of Sparrow’s voice in her mind. She sat up and looked at him.

He stood with his sword in his hand and his bow on his shoulder, his dark hair streaming down his back. Though he made a fine enough picture to make her catch her breath, his eyes were what held her, captured her heart like a bird in his hand.

Magic seemed to swirl around him, and Rennie’s heart began to pound. Was this what she had always been meant to find?

She rose silently and went to him. His arms opened to welcome her, and she felt herself engulfed in protection.

Oh, Sparrow, oh god, oh god—

Aye, Wren, I know. I expected love, but not this burning need.

Need, yes. How did Lil and Geofrey ever stand it? She was so often away from him.

Sparrow stirred and sheathed his sword. His big hands claimed her and drew her still closer. Alric and I spoke of that. I am not sure the feelings were so intense for them—or perhaps just as intense, yet less physical.

Martin—

Hush, do not speak his name, else it might call him from sleep. Wren—

Rennie lifted her face, and he kissed her. It began gently, a mere brush of lips against lips, but then hunger came rushing. Rennie’s heart, body, and spirit all cried out for him, and his answered.

“Wren.” When the kiss ended at last, they both shook helplessly. Sparrow rested his forehead against hers. Barely aloud, he whispered, “I need—”

“As do I. Come with me.”

“We cannot. I am on watch.”

“Let Sherwood keep the watch.”

“But there is Martin. And Alric lies dying.”

“Surely Alric would understand.”

For an instant only, Sparrow hesitated. Then he caught Rennie up in his arms and carried her away into the trees.

They coupled silently, passionately, two souls starving for one another. The spell of moonlight found them where they lay, washed silver over Sparrow’s skin, made mystery of his eyes. Yet Rennie did not need to see what lay there. She held him, and filled him, even as he filled her.

“I cannot live without this,” she whispered when they once more lay joined, her legs holding him tight, “without you.”

“Beautiful Wren.” His rough fingers caressed her naked breast and, as easily as that, brought her to life again. She gasped as desire speared through her and wild hunger for him quickened.

Yet she said, “Me, beautiful? My fine wolfshead, you are mistaken. I am but a scullery wench, over-tall and often awkward.”

“Beautiful scullery wench.” Laughter and desire tangled in his deep voice. Both went straight to Rennie’s head. “Shall I number the things that make you beautiful? These perfect breasts that just fill my hands, your hair that smells of Sherwood, and the eyes of a wild hawk, legs such as I never hoped to see, dangerously long.” His lips brushed hers and coerced them open. She thrilled as his warmth, words, and breath all poured into her. “You are irresistible.”

Only the moment existed, and Rennie wanted it to last an eternity. “Then, my fine wolfshead, do not try to resist.”

His weapon, still inside her, had once more readied itself. He flexed his muscular body and began to move slowly. Every part of Rennie roused and gloried in the joining. So this is happiness, she thought. This is why I was born.

Out of the darkness, hard words came cutting through the euphoria that enfolded her. Martin’s voice.

“Betrayer! On your feet, Sparrow, and face me!”