Outlaw (Medieval Trilogy 3)

Eyes closed, he moved, his tongue moving over his teeth. “The lady?” he murmured.

“Aye.” She squeezed his hand and one of his eyes cracked open, only to close for a second.

“Oh, Lady Megan!” His eyes flew open again, this time clear and bright. “What happened . . .? Oh, the boar.”

“Aye, you and he had a bit of a disagreement, and he got the better of you.”

Robin groaned and blushed. “But how did I live?” Trying to raise himself upright, he sucked in a swift breath.

“Careful—you didn’t come out of this without a wound or two.”

“I feel like dog dung. Did you find me in the forest?”

“Nay. ’Twas Wolf. He came upon you and ran the beast through.”

Clarity sparked in the boy’s eyes as if suddenly his memory had returned. “ ’Tis true,” he finally said, and his pale face colored. “I should not have gone after him.”

“Not alone,” she said, but decided he was punishing himself enough and did not need to be told that he’d been foolish. “If you’re feeling well enough, Odell has cooked part of the beast, and ’twould be justice for you to eat a piece of him.”

Robin laughed and the sound touched Megan’s heart, even though he winced in pain.

“Where’s Wolf?” Robin asked, glancing through the dark chambers.

A fine question, Megan thought, for she’d wondered that herself. He’d left the camp hours before with Bjorn and Cormick. Somberly, they’d saddled their mounts and ridden away without so much as a word to her or any of the men. They could be hunting, she decided, though with the boar, they had meat enough for days. They could be out robbing someone traveling on the road or searching for Holt’s soldiers, or they might be in the nearest town, drinking ale, playing dice, and whoring.

She scowled at the turn of her thoughts, for jealousy invaded her blood whenever she thought of Wolf lying with another woman. ’Twas an image that burned in her thoughts each time he left the camp.

“Wolf and some of the men have been gone this afternoon, but when they return, he’ll be pleased to see you awake.”

Robin struggled to his feet and Megan wanted to restrain him, but didn’t. The boy wasn’t woozy, though he grimaced a bit as he walked outside and felt a blast of winter air rip through his thin body. She handed him a hooded cloak, which he donned, and Odell, stirring the coals beneath a boiling pot, cracked a smile at the boy. “So ye decided to s

tay with the livin’, did ye? A fine choice, m’boy. Come and see the skin of the pig ye helped slay.”

Cackling, Odell led the eager boy to the bearskin, and Megan rubbed her arms against the cold. Though she was this motley band’s captive, she’d never felt more free. With no castle walls to surround her, no priest’s silent scorn, no duties aside from those of surviving, she experienced a vigor she’d never enjoyed as daughter of the baron.

A sharp whistle and hoofbeats announced Wolf’s return. Megan bit down hard on her lip and tried to stop the sudden clamoring of her heart. ’Twas foolish. He cared not for her. As he rode into the clearing, she couldn’t keep an expectant smile from creeping over her lips. His gaze touched hers for a silent heartbeat, then landed full force on the lad. “There ye be, Robin,” Wolf said, falling into the easy speech of his men. “And Odell, here, had given ye up fer dead.”

“Nay, I never said—” Odell protested, but caught the twinkle of devilment in Wolf’s eye. “And curse and rot yer soul, ye foul creature of the forest,” he said with a grin as he realized he was being teased.

Wolf slid lightly to the ground and touched Robin gently on the shoulder. “If I had any brains, I would have your skin stretched like the boar’s!”

Robin folded his lips in upon themselves and stared at the ground.

Wolf wasn’t finished. “Goin’ after that one”—he hitched his chin toward the hide drying beneath a tarp—“could’ve cost you your life.”

Robin’s gaze didn’t falter, but his jaw jutted mutinously and the muscles in his shoulders bulged a bit.

“ ’E’s alive, ain’t ’e? Jest a mite clawed up, and we got meat enough fer days—”

“The skin is Robin’s, Odell,” Wolf reminded the older man quickly.

“I know, I know.” Grumbling under his breath, Odell ambled back to the fire, and Wolf, locking eyes with Megan for an instant, called a meeting together.

Megan wasn’t about to be treated as an outsider any longer. Despite Wolf’s hard glare, she walked to the fire and sat on a stump, warming her hands, while the rest of the band gathered together. Meat sizzled over the fire, the flames danced wildly with a breath of wind, and afternoon faded into night.

“There be no women in our midst,” Odell said, though not unkindly.

“I’m here. I’m a part of this group, even if only as a ‘guest.’ ” Defiantly, she refused to budge.