The Ghosts of Sherwood by Carrie Vaughn

Author:Carrie Vaughn
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Tom Doherty Associates

v

SOON ENOUGH, THEIR CAPTORS threw them down and made them walk, awkward and stumbling with their hands tied, choking on the gags. At least they hadn’t gagged Eleanor, but then, she hadn’t yet made a sound. Mary’s sister tried staying close to her, but one of the men would come along and shove her apart, just for the sake of doing so, it seemed. They didn’t travel very deep into the forest; they paralleled the road, even while keeping out of sight of it. Likely, they were meeting another party there. More enemies, more danger.

Finally, they stopped to rest. One of them kicked Mary’s and John’s feet out from under them, so they fell over. The men passed around water sacks but didn’t move to let their prisoners drink.

The ruddy-bearded man, Edmund, stood before them and looked them over, scowling at John and Mary. He considered Eleanor further.

“You’re a quiet one, aren’t you? Not even a scream from you.”

Eleanor stared at him, owl-like, in that disconcerting way she had when she was unhappy.

“What’s your name, then?”

Nothing. Mary’s heart raced, knowing what would come next and being unable to stop it.

“I asked you your name, girl. What is it?” Eleanor was half his size—no, smaller even—but that didn’t stop him from grabbing her face, squeezing, pushing until he shoved her against a tree. She didn’t even squeak.

Mary did. She screamed, muffled against the gag, and thrashed against her bonds. Anything to get his attention. She choked herself on her own desperation. But the bully let Eleanor go, thank God.

Their captor came over and ripped out her gag. She spat against it, coughed. “She won’t speak, she has no voice. Please, leave her alone, I beg you.”

Edmund considered, glancing back at the girl who huddled by the tree, shivering. “No voice? Mute?” Mary nodded. “Is she simple?”

She didn’t answer, because Eleanor was certainly not simple but she would seem so to a man like him. If they thought her so, maybe they would leave her alone. Or maybe they would torment her even more.

“What are your names?” the man asked her.

“I’m Mary. These are John and Eleanor.” She hoped to set him a little at ease so he would stop harassing Eleanor.

He nodded. “Thank you, Mary of Locksley. Give them some water.” He gave this order to the youngest of them, a beardless youth with a constantly startled expression. He had a bruise on the side of his face—so he’d been one of the ones the ghost had struck. Alas, that the ghost hadn’t killed them all.

And the ghost was likely dead now.

The young one came to them with a water sack and regarded John dubiously. “I take this off, you promise to be quiet?” John nodded quickly. They all stayed quiet and drank when he tipped the sack to their mouths. Eleanor spit the water back out. The boy sighed and left them alone.

Mary ought to keep quiet. She’d put Edmund somewhat at ease and ought to leave him there. But she didn’t.

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