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

flashed. “You think we did not stand? The worst wounded are those who tried. Well do you know, young Falcon, a man on foot is no match for one mounted, and with a sword.” He reached out and clasped Fal’s arm. “But we need you now. Oakham needs the leadership of a strong headman, more than ever with your father gone.”
    Falcon seemed to shrink. “Can you not take the place, Yancy? I am not the man my father was.”
    “Nor am I, lad. I daresay there will never be another like him. Come, though. You must have known the place would be yours one day. And folk are anxious to look to someone. They feel lost, and there is much work to be done.”
    It seemed to Linnet the whole village stood holding its breath for Falcon’s answer. But he did not make it. Instead his face crumpled and his eyes went wide.
    Lark, still holding his arm, spoke steadily. “Of course he will step into the breach. We shall all pull together as we always do. What have those without roofs been doing these two nights past?”
    A woman spoke. “Sleeping outside, or with neighbors.”
    “At least the weather is kind,” Lark said briskly. “We shall begin with rebuilding as suits the need. Gather all those who have lost their homes here, beside me, and those sore hurt in another group, for Linnet. We shall see to everyone. Aye, Fal?”
    He nodded brokenly. The village folk, given something to do, seemed satisfied and hurried off.
    Linnet, staggering emotionally under the weight of all to be done, looked at her companions. “Someone should tell Ma and Pa. Or do you think they know?”
    “I think they suspected what we would find here,” Lark returned. “It is likely why they sent us.” Her golden eyes met Linnet’s. “They mean for the three of us to work together. And so we shall. Is that not right, Fal?”
    He had covered his face with his hands. “All lost, gone the same way as my mother and poor wee Thrush.”
    “I know how you are hurting.” Lark’s voice softened.
    “I failed him.”
    “If that is truly how you feel, then resolve you will not fail him again. Step up and take the place he held for you all these years.”
    “You are wrong.” Fal raised an anguished face. “He held it not for me but because he was a leader to the bone. As I am not! How can I act as these folk expect? Better you take the place of headman, Lark, than I.”
    “Never mind.” Lark hooked an arm about his neck and drew his head down to hers. “We shall hold the place together, eh?”
    They went off and left Linnet alone, save for one child who lingered, large-eyed, with his thumb in his mouth. “Go home to your mother, Roger,” Linnet told him kindly. “She will be missing you.” Not until she had spoken the words did she realize his home, close by her own, stood no longer. “Here.” She held out her hand to him. Best she find his mother, amid all this madness, and see him safe.
    She came upon the child’s mother standing with a knot of other women, gossiping, and stood to speak with them. The children, they said, were sore frightened, tired, and hungry. Linnet set them to organizing a communal cook pot and bade them bring their little ones to a cleared place where she could tend their injuries.
    She could see Lark and Falcon across the way, still in tandem and giving similar directions. That was, Lark appeared to be giving instructions while Fal stood at her side, shocked and silent.
    Linnet stole a moment to walk back to the rubble that had once been her home, where she looked to see what could be salvaged. Nothing. The thatch must have burned and come down, engulfing everything inside. The rubble still gave off heat. Perhaps when it cooled she would be able to search, but she could not imagine finding anything intact.
    Tears flooded her eyes and she had to catch herself up, hard. No one ever said life was not difficult or that things would be just. But following so swiftly on the loss of Martin, this seemed a cruel blow indeed.
    And now