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father?”
    â€œYes!”
    â€œAnd his ransom will be her release.”
    â€œExactly.”
    â€œWell thought!” Robin was beginning to grin, even as he coughed into his rolled jerkin sleeve. “‘Tis a worthy plan, forsooth. But does he keep no guards in his tent, lass?”
    â€œMy father? No. He hates people.”
    â€œBut he’ll slice us to bits!” Lionel burst out.
    â€œThat’s your father, Lionel. My father is a scholar, not the kind who sleeps with his sword. He thinks too much to make a proper king. He’s afraid of the dark.”
    â€œNo! Truly?” Robin exclaimed.
    â€œTruly. He’s noble on the outside but a coward within.” The opposite of Lionel, Etty thought. “He won’t fight us. We must see that he does not cry out, that’s all.”
    Rowan murmured, “It sounds almost too easy.”
    â€œAnd afterward?” Robin asked. “What are we to do with our good king Solon the Red, lass?”
    â€œI’d like to hang him up like yonder deer!” Etty sighed, blowing away her sudden anger, then spoke with the calm her mother had trained into her. “But I suppose I must somehow make him let my mother go. And let me be.”

Six

    I n the darkest mid of night an owl gave its ghostly call. A fox barked. A mouse squeaked. Etty, who was the mouse, knew that the fox (Robin Hood) and the owl (Rowan) had taken their positions. In a moment it would be time to move.
    Crouching in the shadow of a giant oak tree with Rook on one side and Lionel on the other, Etty focused just to one side of the guard she was trying to watch. Trying to see in a moonless, cloudy night was like trying to see a dim star. The guards near Mother’s cage kept fires going to warm themselves and to see intruders by, but at this end of the clearing there was only a whisper of firelight, and in the woods not even that. By not looking directly at the guard, Etty could just barely see him standing about ten paces away, yawning, at the edge of the clearing, between her and the back of her father’s pavilion.
    Father, lying asleep so near her . . . Without warning, Etty’s thoughts jolted back to when she was a child, her father’s little princess and his little scholar. Lacking any surviving sons, he had taught all his learning to her, even though girls were hardly ever educated. He would summon her to his throne and show her off before visiting lords. Had he . . . was it possible he had loved her then? Or had she been just another of his prized possessions, like his golden drinking goblet or his well-trained horse?
    It doesn’t matter , Etty told herself, jerking her thoughts back to the present. Most assuredly he did not love her now.
    And she would never be anyone’s possession again.
    Where was that guard? There. Still in the same place.
    From the far side of the clearing voices sounded. Guards calling to each other.
    â€œWhat was that?”
    â€œA wolf!”
    â€œNo, a dog, fool. What would a wolf be doing—”
    â€œIt’s a wolf, I say! Shoot it!”
    Ettarde smiled to herself, listening, knowing what would happen next. She and Rowan and the others had grown accustomed to what had once seemed almost unbelievable.
    Sure enough, the man shouted, “The brute caught my arrow!”
    â€œFool, what are you talking about?”
    â€œHe caught it in his mouth! Snatched it right out of the air.”
    â€œThis I have to see. Shoot another.”
    The guard turned his head to see what was going on, then left his post to get a better look. It sounded as though most of the guards, if not all of them, were gathering at the far end of the clearing to watch Tykell leaping to clamp his jaws onto arrow after arrow, snagging them in midflight like a swift darting after mayflies.
    Signaling Rook and Lionel by touching their hands, Etty ran forward as silently as she could. She could hear Rook loping almost soundlessly on