16
Nottingham Tournament Grounds
Jill did not watch Joanna with mournful eyes until she was lost in the crowd. That kind of sentimentality only happened in the movies. But the temptation to glance back for her twin or even run after her was stronger than Jill had expected. Will tugged at her sleeve, urging her forward. Why were people always pushing and pulling her around? Usually Jill was the one pushing, but something about the twelfth century caused her to be more reflective than she was used to and more in touch with her feelings. Case in point, she was angry.
After all the effort Jill had expended to rescue her twin, Joanna had the gall to refuse. True, Joanna was handling her captivity better than Jill had anticipated, but the wasted effort and apparent lack of appreciation for everything Jill had done to reunite with her sister irritated her. Today’s rescue had been the least elaborate part of the plan and the most independent facet, so the other components would proceed on schedule. But the rescue had been Jill’s responsibility. After having given Robin such a hard time about the first failed rescue, she didn’t want to lose face by telling him she had botched the second attempt. To be fair, Joanna botched it. More than Jill’s pride was involved, though. She couldn’t help but feel like she had let her family down by not pulling Joanna out of the dangerous situation. Jill’s entire presence at the tournament felt like a waste. The only remaining consolation was to see the archery tournament play out the way she intended. She hoped she would at least get that satisfaction.
Once Jill, Alan, and Will reached the archery field, Alan slipped away toward the castle to take his post for message relay. Jill spotted Little John who, with his hood pulled over his eyes, slouched over a pint of ale close to the soldiers who guarded the sheriff’s grandstand. Again Jill marveled that hooded cloaks were such effective disguises. Perhaps hoods were the medieval equivalent of a superhero hiding his identity by wearing glasses. Will led her to a vantage point farther down the field where they could safely observe but escape easily into the forest when the time came. Will wasn’t her first choice for a bodyguard this afternoon, but by her own design Robin was needed elsewhere. She recalled what he had said to her earlier that morning when Jill insisted she didn’t need a babysitter.
“I don’t want you alone.” Robin’s solemn expression communicated his concern. “Too much could go wrong with the rescue. Guy already has Joanna. What if he captures you as well?”
“I’ve been on my own a long time and I’ve done fine.”
“But you don’t need to do this by yourself.”
“It’s what I’m used to and I’m good at it.”
“Yes,” he conceded, taking her hand, “you’re good at a lot of things. But if you have trustworthy people around you, you should rely on them. Life’s too short to be alone.”
Thinking with disdain of Joanna’s years of chasing relationships, Jill replied, “Don’t tell me you believe the only happy people are married.”
“No. But I do believe I never would have survived as long as I have without my friends. You’re part of this circle now, too, Jill.”
Her heart warmed at the knowledge that she had finally found a place to belong. If for some reason she couldn’t return to the present, embracing Robin’s merry men as her new family was an attractive option, especially if Joanna chose to hang out with murderers.
The line of archers stepped forward to salute the sheriff when the herald called their names. Jill was especially interested in the thin, wiry archer called—at her own insistence—Errol Flynn. Using Kevin Costner as an alias would have been funnier, but the name didn’t sound medieval enough in Jill’s opinion. The hooded Errol held a lot of responsibility for someone she wasn’t sure had any original intelligence. If Jill’s plan didn’t work, the fate of Errol, all the merry men, Joanna, and the villagers who needed money for taxes hung in the balance.
Scanning the Nottingham Castle towers impatiently, Jill finally saw the signal on the farthest tower—a red scarf blowing in the breeze. “They’re in,” she whispered to Will.
Jill focused her attention on the platform behind the archers where the Sheriff of Nottingham sat center stage underneath a multicolored awning. A plain woman in a yellow dress, probably his wife, sat next to him. She studied her fingernails and sighed. But the man in black at the sheriff’s right drew Jill’s interest and derision. Guy of Gisbourne. He looked as menacing as she remembered from her encounter with him two days before. Yes, he and Robin bore a family resemblance in the eyes, nose, and hair color, but Guy possessed a sinister air in direct contrast to Robin’s charming innocence. If the two brothers lived in the twenty-first century, Robin would be the carefree playboy while Guy would be the smoldering bad boy—definitely Joanna’s type. Jill frowned. There was no accounting for Joanna’s taste in men.
The trumpet blast indicating the next round of shooting jarred Jill back to the contest. Unsurprisingly, Errol had advanced to the second round. Finally spotting Joanna standing with Elaine and Sirsalon on the other side of the field, Jill saw Joanna grin when Errol’s name was announced. Joanna had caught the joke.
Joanna’s staying with Guy meant at least one good thing for Jill. She could keep Robin and the merry men to herself. Not that Jill thought Robin’s affection would transfer so easily. The medallion that hung around Jill’s neck proved he preferred Jill over Joanna. In fact, he apparently wanted to marry her. Was she ready for such a long-term commitment?
The word commitment elicited nausea. She wished her parents were around so that she could get their advice. A wave of sadness washed over her when she thought of never seeing them again. But she and Joanna would find a way back. The old horse lady told Joanna the horses were important, and Jill possessed the horses. Return to the present was still possible. But she had just found a place where she belonged. Could she throw that away? Could she leave Robin behind? Love sure complicated things.
Love? Jill swayed on her feet.
“You all right?” Will grasped her forearm for support.
“Yeah, lost my balance.”
She had lost her balance. After knowing Robin for four days, was she thinking she might love him? That was crazy! No one fell in love that fast, especially not her. She was experiencing a biological response to the affection of a man she found attractive. That was all.
“Only three contestants left now,” Will commented. “Our boy’s doing well.”
All her self-analysis was causing her to miss out on the very event she had wanted to witness. She checked the castle tower and winced when she saw the yellow scarf had replaced the red one. “They need more time.”
Will groaned. “I guess we’d better stall, then.”
Taking a deep breath, he called out in a loud voice, “Three cheers for the Sheriff of Nottingham!”
The crowd never did join in completely. Their “huzzahs” were half-hearted, to say the least, but the sheriff sat up a little straighter. Errol nodded, recognizing the signal. Only a few shots were left until the contest was over and Errol’s true identity was exposed. Jill resisted the urge to bite her nails in nervous anticipation. Her plan was either going to work brilliantly or get them all killed.
Sensing a good show, the crowd had doubled since the contest began. One of the remaining contestants, an older man with long gray hair, shot quickly, his arrow landing slightly outside the bull’s eye. The second, a balding, heavy-set man, wasted no time planting his arrow a hair’s breadth closer to the center than the old man’s. Errol needed to beat them both to remain in the competition. Jill hoped he wouldn’t crumble under the pressure. Given the interest the sheriff and Gisbourne showed in Errol, they would seize him the moment he lost. If he missed and they took him now, her entire plan would fall apart.
Errol shuffled to the shooting line, testing his bow. Before removing an arrow from his quiver, he drew the bowstring and seemed dissatisfied. The crowd groaned as he unstrung the bow and knelt on the ground to restring it. This was going to take a whi
le. While pleased with the delay, Jill watched the sheriff and Gisbourne anxiously. Their heads close together as they spoke, the two men were obviously conspiring against Errol. Jill felt her shoulders tensing.
Finally, Errol was ready to shoot. He held the drawn bow for such a long time that his arm began to tremble. Could he hit the target? His shot landed to the left a quarter inch shy of center—the best shot of the round. This meant the old man was out. Only Errol and the bald man were left. The winner would be decided in the next two shots. Jill looked to the tower. Still a yellow scarf. Not good.
A few more seconds passed as the target was moved farther back for the final round.
The bald man shot first. While he hesitated longer than he had before, no more than a minute passed. The contest was moving too quickly. What was taking them so long in the tower?
An examination of the target by the judges revealed the bald man’s arrow had landed one inch below center—an amazing shot given the distance. Errol would have to do better. The sheriff and Guy both sat forward in their seats. The trap set for Errol was about to be sprung.
Jill could feel the excitement in the crowd as Errol stepped forward for his last shot. He fingered several arrows, eyeing how straight they were, until he found one he seemed pleased with. After notching the arrow, he wet his finger and tested the direction of the wind not once but twice. Jill looked to the tower and bit her lip. Come on! Come on!
Errol drew his bow and after holding the draw for several seconds, released the arrow high into the air. Although she knew that time was still progressing at a normal pace, Jill thought the arrow traveled in slow motion as it inched through the air. She glanced at the tower and saw the green scarf. Back on schedule.
Her gaze returned to the target in time to see the arrow plant itself with a thud. How had he scored?
“Time to go,” Will whispered.
“I need to know if he won.”
While Errol’s winning was no longer crucial to their overall success, Jill had banked her entire plan on his ability to shoot. She needed to know she had been right. She had to have something to brag about today.
Jill held her breath as the judges converged on the target and evaluated the results. The sheriff and Gisbourne looked as anxious as she felt. After a short discussion, the herald addressed the crowd.
“The winner of the archery contest and the golden arrow is Errol Flynn!”
The crowd cheered wildly and Jill mentally gave herself a congratulatory pat on the back. Will put his arm around her shoulder and pulled her back from the crowd. “I promised Robin I’d get you out safely, regardless of what happened. We have to move now.”
Reluctantly, Jill followed him, wishing all the while she could watch the drama about to unfold in front of the sheriff and Gisbourne. If only she could see their faces!