Laura Strickland - The Guardians of Sherwood Trilogy by Champion of Sherwood

forged a vow on the strength of it. He had no doubt that was what his words to Linnet had been—a vow of intent.
    “De Vavasour.” The big man called Sparrow stood over him. “We must speak together of my daughter, Linnet.”
    Gareth struggled to his feet. He did not feel wary of this man, not as he did of Linnet’s mother with her sharp gaze and her tangible command of magic. Gareth suspected Sparrow possessed magic also; it virtually clothed him. Yet something about him spoke to and calmed Gareth.
    “Sit.” Sparrow waved him back down and took the place beside him.
    At some distance across the clearing, it appeared the others busied themselves packing up camp. “Are we leaving this place?” he asked.
    “Aye. Falcon, Lark, and Linnet go back to Oakham. Fal wishes to see his father buried, or at least mark his passing, as he is no doubt already in the ground.”
    “And I?”
    “You will stay here for the time, with myself and Wren. When it is safe for a ransom demand to be taken to Nottingham, Lark or Lin will send word and let us know.”
    “My uncle will never ransom me.”
    “Why not?” Sparrow studied him with eyes as dark and deep as Linnet’s. “You are his kin, his blood.”
    “Yet he barely knows me. I have seen him rarely since I was small.” And if Robert de Vavasour proved anything like his brother, Gareth’s father Maurice, he must be a hard man indeed, devoid of both sentiment and familial feeling. Had he not patronized the final part of Gareth’s training and demanded his service in return, Gareth would not be here now.
    “Still, I cannot see him leaving you in our hands.”
    Gareth shrugged and Sparrow gave a tight smile. “It remains to be seen. Until that time, you will stay with my wife and me, in Sherwood. Wren will see to your healing.”
    “And Linnet? You said you wished to speak of her.”
    Sparrow drew a breath that expanded his great chest. His eyes examined Gareth almost kindly. “You will not see her again.”
    Gareth turned his head sharply. His eyes found Linnet across the clearing where she bent gracefully over a bundle she assembled, her dark hair streaming down.
    “Life is long,” he told Sparrow. “You cannot make such a declaration. If she and I are meant to meet again, we shall so meet.”
    Sparrow’s expression turned wry. “Leave her alone, if you would do her any service. She has her place in this world as you have yours. You are a Norman knight. Linnet is even more vitally important.”
    Gareth did not speak, but everything inside him cried his resistance.
    Sparrow went on, still in his calm rumble. “You could do for her one thing else, if you will.”
    “What is that?”
    “Forget her. Forget, also, the location of her village and the names of those dear to her. Your uncle we know for a vengeful man, devoid of mercy. Protect her as you can.”
    Gareth gave a hard nod. That he could do. But see her go from him... It made a harder prospect.
    Sparrow met his gaze and gave a tight smile. “I do not know all of what happened in the forest last night. Like my wife, I sensed great magic. The wheel of our lives turns mightily just now. It does not go easily for me to trust a Norman. But it seems I must trust you to protect my daughter, Gareth de Vavasour.”

Chapter Fifteen
    “Smell that—’tis the scent of burning on the wind.” Falcon’s head reared up like that of a wild creature sensing danger.
    Lark, coming up next to him, paused with her whole body aquiver.
    Linnet, who brought up the rear in their return to Oakham, struggled to gather her thoughts. Too much had happened back in the forest; she felt torn, as if the better part of her had been ripped away and left behind with Gareth de Vavasour.
    That it should be so terrified her. He was the very last man upon whom she should settle her heart: Norman knight, nephew to her mortal enemy, sworn opponent to all she held dear. She barely knew him, had not yet kissed him, for all her longing. Yet her