Enemy of My Enemy

Chapter Twenty-Two - Stratagems

Guy's visit had enlivened a day which had otherwise done its best to smother Marian in boredom.

With a goodly dose of irritation. And worry. What was Robin thinking, sending her back here, knowing that he was at the camp with an assassin on the loose? He'd listened to none of her arguments, insisting she return with the others – all of whom suffered the same malaise, when the search for Meg yielded nothing but dead ends and frustrations.

Even Guy's news, which had briefly given them hope, had led nowhere.

"To the north? Abandoned farms, abandoned villages," Bassam had shrugged, when questioned. "We've been at war a long time. And the road divides, one way follows the coast and another leads inland. I'm sorry I can't be of greater help, but we need more information if we're to find this person."

It was evening. Marian and Little John, sitting on cushions now at the low table, waited while Djaq checked on her patient. After some debate about who should go, Will had left earlier to warn Robin and Much of the impending attack.

"No, Marian. You'd attract too much attention." Little John had thumped the table for emphasis, as they'd discussed it. "He's supposed to be keeping a low profile."

"Then you can't go either," she'd retorted.

"I'll go," Will had said, rising.

Marian had tried to think of an objection – or some argument which might allow her to go – but she knew in her heart that they were right. If her presence might endanger Robin, or the success of their mission, then she could hardly insist.

"I hate the sheriff." Will had said, thumbing the blade of his axe. "He does nothing but destroy innocent lives. I wish I'd killed him in Nottingham, when I had the chance."

"Will," Marian chided quietly. "How many innocent lives would that have cost?"

"Well I want him dead now."

"We all do," she had agreed.

Now, as they waited for Will's return, Little John rose and paced towards the courtyard.

"Talk – all we do here is talk. There must be something the rest of us can do," he said, his back to the room. "Perhaps we could go and search some of these farms and villages."

"A waste of time," Marian replied.

"What is?" Djaq asked, entering.

The serving girl, Vaisey's former spy, followed her in, bearing a fresh pitcher of cordial.

"Going north and searching for Meg, with no clear idea of where to look."

Marian tended to agree, but she understood John's restlessness; she shared it herself.

"You heard Bassam," Djaq agreed. "She could be anywhere."

"To the north, you said?" They were startled to hear the serving girl speak; she hadn't contributed to any of their previous discussions.

"Yes. Why," pressed Djaq, "do you know something?"

The girl stopped pouring, resting the base of the pitcher on her left hand.

"If you are looking for someone, perhaps she's where the balding one said he was going to meet with his...how do you say....? With the other man, the one who was already here."

"Do you know the name of it?" Marian demanded.

Suppressed excitement made her abrupt; did they, at last, have information that might lead them to Meg?

"Yes," replied the girl. "I overheard them talking. It was a village called Imuiz."

"Then what are we waiting for?" said Little John. "Let's go."