Lion Heart
Page 79

 A.C. Gaughen

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“Robin!” I wailed. “Robin! Robin!”
They opened and let me through, and I fell to my knees beside him. My hands on his chest, his face, shaking to touch the red mark where the rope had been a moment ago.
He heaved a great cough, opening his eyes to me. “Scar,” he groaned, coughing hard.
I gasped and fell back.
He sat up slow, grabbing me and crushing me in his arms. He were shaking, hard, the kind of shaking that feels like your bones are fighting you. He lifted his shirt, and I saw another length of rope tied there to pull his weight off his neck. To save him.
“Who? How?” I begged. Tears were pouring hard down my face.
“That would be me,” Allan said, chucking off a French knight’s helmet and tunic. “I better get out of this kit before someone gets the wrong idea, eh?” he said.
I grabbed Rob harder, my heart beating so hard and fierce that I couldn’t even feel the pain in my arm yet. “I love you,” I told him, kissing his face, his eyes, his hair. “I love you.”
He kissed my mouth. “Christ, Scarlet, I love you. Now get this rope off me,” he said.
I tried to laugh but it came out a sob, and Allan leaned down to cut it from his middle.
Rob dropped the rope and stood with me, taking my hand. “Your arm,” he said.
I nodded. “I’ll live.”
“No!” we heard. Prince John came rushing toward us, crashing into one of his guards to do so. “No!” he roared. “You’re dead! You have to be dead!”
Rob put his arm around me. “Very much alive, my lord Prince,” he said, his voice hoarse and rough.
“You!” he screamed, hurling his finger at me as men kept us apart. “What did you do? You little bitch, what did you do?”
I stepped forward from Robin, going forward to see the mad look of Prince John’s eyes, the flecks of spittle on his mouth. “Me?” I asked. “I’m just a thief. I stole your nobles—they will never put their trust in you again, even if Richard never comes home. I stole your power, because without them, you are just a spoiled child with very few lands. And I stole your mother, because she just likes me better than you. I told you when you took my fingers that you would regret this, John. Everything I have taken, you let me steal.”
I shook my head, stepping back from him as he sputtered.
“Maybe you should worry,” I said. “Because maybe you were right, that night in the dungeon. Maybe the people and history will forget me.” I smiled at him. “But you won’t, will you? You will remember me, and this day, forever.”
He screamed. It were a bloodcurdling thing, a cross between a battle cry and a wailing child, and he heaved one of the men holding him off, and slashed at another one’s face. I stepped back, but he lunged forward, grabbing me.
His hand swung toward my middle, and I saw the bright flash of his knife. With one good hand, I caught his wrist, twisting it backward so he dropped the knife. I stepped forward and drove my knee into his nether bits.
He wailed, falling to his knees before me. Rob touched my side, always beside me, together and strong.
“A knife?” I yelled at Prince John. “A knife? You come at me with a knife?”
I let him go completely, and he cradled his sore parts as I snatched up the knife, reclaiming his attention as I held it to his throat. “I will never be the schemer you are. I will never use words as well as you. But there are two things that make me powerful. There are two things that make me stronger than you.” I straightened my shoulders. “My heart holds my love, my hope, and my faith. My heart is unyielding, my heart is stalwart, and my heart is true. It will never be broken by the likes of you. But do you know what else makes me strong, you royal fool?” I asked him.
He just cursed at me.
I pushed the knife against his skin, hard enough to press, but not to cut. He swallowed hard. “I could kill you. You killed David. You killed John. You have hurt so many.” My mouth twisted, and I pressed harder. “You deserve it for what you’ve done.”
I let him go and pulled the knife away, stepping closer to Rob.
“But I won’t,” I told him. “Because now it’s you who should worry. It’s you who will look over his shoulder forever. Because you will scheme again, and I will be here, standing between you and the people of England.” I leaned closer. “I may be a bastard, a princess, a thief, and a royal. But do you know what the other thing is that makes me more powerful than you?” I said.
He curled his lip at me.
I held up the knife. “With a knife in my hand, I’m unbeatable.”
For the longest time, no one really knew about me. I were Rob’s secret, his informant, his shadow in dark places. They didn’t see me, and I didn’t mind that they didn’t see.
But now I’m Rob’s wife, and our story isn’t a secret. It’s a song, a legend, a story people tell to their children at night.
There’s a funny thing about light and darkness—like hope, you can never blot out either one completely. They always exist, side by side, bright light making shadows darker, darkness making the light more beautiful, a tempting siren call.
I can’t hate the darkest parts of myself. They are the things that showed me how special and rare the bright flames of trust, loyalty, friendship, and love were. My darkness showed me how to love Rob.
But now I choose light and fire and love.
Now I choose freedom.