The Greenwood Shadow (21 page)

Evey chuckled. "I don't blame you if you hate me for it."

"Never. We're family." He smiled, but was obviously anxious to hear the rest of the story.

The next thing she explained was Isaiah's rescue, and how quickly they became friends. She was about to lead into their capture when Emeric stopped her again.

"Evelyne. You don't, uh... well, you sound like you really like this boy."

She rolled her eyes in that typical Evey way. "Well, of course I like him. He's the first real friend I've ever had. He's the only one I can tell things to, besides Hobbes. And as much as I love my horse, it's really not the same thing."

Emeric chewed on his lip for a moment.

"You know what I mean. You're avoiding the question. Evelyne, you're betrothed to Robert. You promised to marry him."

"I remember," she said sullenly. "Believe me, I remember."

"It's just that this Isaiah fellow-"

She shrunk further into her blanket. "Don't get all bothered about it. Isaiah is betrothed to some frilly lady at court. A "goddess" apparently. She's beyond beautiful, and he's beyond loyal. Nothing's going to happen."

Emeric looked right into her eyes for a little too long.

"You're sure?" he asked.

"Totally sure."

"Alright. I'll take your word for it. Go on with your story."

From there, she described their capture, imprisonment, torture, and eventual escape. Emeric stood and paced the room furiously. Evey had never seen him really worked up about anything before. It took her several minutes to calm him down enough to talk.

"I'm okay, aren't I? No lasting damage. Just some bruises and scrapes."

"They tried to hang you!" he retorted. "I've half a mind to march down there and–"

"Calm down!" she ordered, loud enough to pause his anger. "Good thing it's only half a mind. Do you know what would happen if you really went there?"

"It's just not how things are done," he muttered. "There's a process. You can't just hang anyone you feel like."

Evey walked to him, grabbed his un-bandaged elbow, and sat him not-so-gently down on the bench.

"Well, technically I rather deserved it, didn't I?"

"Not hanging. You weren't innocent, certainly, but they didn't have any real proof of that, and even if they did, not hanging, and you're just a girl!"

"You see it now, don't you?" She paused for effect. "I've been trying to make that point for a long time."

Her tone was so steady that Emeric finally took real notice of it.

"I..." He seemed bewildered. "I suppose you have. I never knew they would take it so far. I thought the king was a bigger man than that."

Evey re-wrapped herself in the blanket and sat back on her bed.

"The weird part is that I don't think it was the king. Something else is going on. He has no real power anymore, and he doesn't even know it."

"He was strong once," Emeric mused, more to himself than to Evey. "When he was younger. He was a good, solid king. Why did he let it all go?"

"That's what we've got to find out. And..." She awkwardly cleared her throat. "And that's why I came to talk to you. You have to know what I'm doing, just in case I... don't come back."

"What?" Emeric stood again, and took a step toward her. "You're not going anywhere. It's far too dangerous now."

Evey playfully lifted an eyebrow. "And you're going to stop me?"

He didn't seem to think anything was funny.

"I'll... I'll lock you away. In my office. No windows, you see."

He fumbled for his keys. Evey put her hand over his shaking fingers.

"And a lock is going to keep me in, I suppose?"

Emeric didn't have a reply.

"Uncle, someone has to do something. It's only going to get worse if we don't. I made a promise to myself and to the others. We're going to stop this nonsense, or die trying."

"That's what I'm afraid of," he whispered.

The room was very quiet for several seconds.

"I'm grateful for everything you've done," she said softly. "You know that right?"

He swallowed hard and nodded.

"It can't have been easy to raise a little hellion like me." She smiled. "I wish I could thank you enough. But I can't quit now. This is too important. You don't even have to get involved. Just cover for me with Sir Robert."

Emeric shook his head. "Evelyne, listen to me. I know you've done a lot. Sneaking around in the woods and swiping taxes, but this isn't going to be the same thing. There will be fighting and battles, and things that no young lady should have to see. It's going to be very dangerous. How do you expect to handle all that?"

She pulled her hands away.

"You think I haven't already?"

He paused and looked at her thoughtfully. "These people are trained for fighting. It's their whole life."

"I can defend myself just fine, thank you!"

"Like you did when you got taken to the dungeons in the first place?"

She folded her arms and fixed him with a glare that would melt ice.

"I was unconscious. That was quite different. No one can touch me when I've got my bow."

"You know I don't like you wandering around with that thing." He glanced at the weapon. "You could get hurt, and anyway it looks bad."

"Not when I do it."

Emeric's expression didn't change.

"Why?" Evey flopped backward onto her mattress and sighed loudly.

This time Emeric's face did change from concern to confusion. "Why what?"

From force of habit, she rolled her eyes.

"I swear,"

She stomped to her things and slung the quiver over her shoulder.

"If I have to prove myself one more time,"

She strung the bow in two seconds. It was tricky in a night dress.

"The next thing I shoot at,"

She glanced at her uncle.

"Will NOT be made of wood."

Emeric watched her ease and grace with wonder. Evey purposefully marched to the window.

"That wagon, by the gate. One arrow in each wheel spoke, just where it connects to the outer rim."

Emeric joined her at the window and squinted out to where she pointed.

"What, that?" he said. "I can barely even see it."

Evey answered with a bowshot. In less than thirty seconds, five arrows flew, and each hit wood with a loud crack.

Emeric squinted again. "How did you do?"

"Go down and see for yourself."

"Aren't you coming?" he asked.

"I know what I aimed for."

Emeric shook his head and continued out the door. A minute later, he entered the courtyard with a torch in one hand. He made his way across the open ground, holding the torch high. About ten yards from the wagon, he stopped suddenly and stared slack-jawed toward the wheel. Slowly he turned to stare up at her.

Most people could hit a wheel spoke from that distance, if they knew anything at all about archery. And most people, given enough time and a good vantage point, could hit at least four of the five spokes in five shots.

But Evey also knew, and so did Emeric, that it took an uncommon eye to hit all five, at the joint, in the dark, while wearing nightclothes. It took an even rarer talent to do it in such quick succession, without missing a mark.

Several minutes later, Emeric walked back into her room, holding the arrows and a cloth covered bundle. He handed the arrows to her, and then sat on the bench. He waited a moment, then patted the seat next to him. She took it.

"I'm sorry. I know you. I shouldn't have made you prove yourself like that."

He sounded very somber as he spoke, and Evey knew something else was coming, so she held back her reply.

"I don't want you to go off and fight in this coup. It's not what your mother would have wanted for you, and it's to her, my sister, that I made the promise to look after you. But you take after your dad. You have his reckless need for adventure, and his sense of duty. If he were here, he'd be riding off to battle with you."

"Do you really think it'll come to battle?" she asked a little hesitantly.

"I'm sure it will, in some form or another." He rested a hand on the cloth bundle. "But do what you have to do. I'll take care of things here. As if I have much choice."

He winked at her. Again, she waited to reply. She wanted to know what he was holding, and why.

"Just take this with you."

He opened the cloth to reveal a sword. It wasn't very elaborate. Just the simple weapon of a low ranked knight. As Evey looked at it, she suddenly realized that she'd seen it before, years and years ago. She had very few memories of her father before he died, but in one of them, he wore this very sword, and smiled down at her from Hobbes' saddle.

"This was his, wasn't it?" She ran her fingers down the leather scabbard.

"It was also his older brother's before him, and his father's before that. You've got a long line of spirited, hot-blooded knights in you, and it didn't come from my side."

Finally, Evey did smile in response to his words.

He put a hand on her shoulder. "I don't want you to ride off, but I know you will, and if you're going to run head-first into danger, I want you to take your dad with you."

Evey threw her arms around Emeric's neck and whispered, "Thank you."

CHAPTER TWENTY TWO

Evey didn't stay home for long. Everything was so confusing. It was thrilling and terrifying and important and dangerous all at the same time. She just needed some time to sort it all out in her head, and a ride through the woods was just the thing.

A dark shadow fell from a tree branch just above her, jolting her away from her thoughts. Someone landed on the saddle behind her. A moment later, two strong arms covered her mouth and locked her hands tight against her sides. She struggled, but her attacker was too well placed.

"Give up?" asked a familiar voice. He let her go, and she pushed him off so forcefully that he fell from the saddle.

"Isaiah! What was that for?"

He just laughed and brushed himself off purposefully. Evey narrowed her eyes. Once he was done with his systematic straightening and dusting, he answered her.

"I finally did it. I finally caught you. You had no idea I was even there."

Evey tugged at her mask a little, to hide the bruise on her cheek and temple. "That's not fair. I'm not supposed to meet you until tomorrow morning. You're hours early. Plus I was thinking."

"Maybe so, but Sir Guy's men won't care whether it's fair or not." He adopted that smirk that he liked to annoy her with. "Or do you imagine they'll just let you go if you tell them you were thinking?"

"That's not the point."

"Isn't it?"

Still chuckling, he walked back into the trees to find his horse. Evey folded her arms and scowled. She wasn't angry at being bested. Alright, that was a lie. She was. But even more, she hated when he was right. She hadn't paid attention and could have been captured without even the chance of a fight. Not that she was doing anything that invited capture, but these days that hardly mattered.

When Isaiah came back, she fixed him with an obstinate glare, and he laughed again.

"You know, that mask makes you look absolutely terrifying when you glare at a man."

She lifted her chin in what she hoped was a haughty expression. "Then why are you laughing?"

"Because I know you." He kicked his horse into a gentle trot. "It's all bluster. Trust me, though, I'll do my best to never, ever get on your serious bad side. I don't want those eyes burning through my skull in a real fight."

Evey was secretly pleased at the compliment, but she didn't feel like letting him win, so she changed the subject.

"What are you doing here anyway? Don't you live miles farther down?"

Isaiah's smile dropped off, and he cleared his throat.

"Well, I... uh... Okay, I'll just tell you. I didn't go to see my father. I just got scared, I guess. What if he really was there at the execution, and I just didn't happen to see him? He could arrest me."

Evey turned on him. "Your own father would arrest you?"

"Well, I don't really know that, but I could easily picture him doing it. That was enough to convince me it was risky. So I wrote a short note telling him I was okay, and I left it on his desk. Then I decided that I might as well ride with you, so I came here to wait."

"You don't know where I live. You might have missed me."

Isaiah made a face. "Oh, just admit it. I beat you fair and square."

She grunted.

"So, how did it go?" he asked brightly.

"With my uncle? Good, surprisingly. He gave me this."

She unsheathed the sword and passed it to Isaiah.

He looked up at her. "This was your dad's, wasn't it?"