Outplayed Read online

  Her voice was wistful, and I was growing tired of all the questions. I wanted to ask a few of my own, and there was never enough silence to give me the opportunity. “Don’t go thinking my time in Sherwood Forest was a walk in the park. It was dangerous. Every day was a battle to survive. I never knew if I’d end it with a sword in my gut or an arrow in my back.”

  “Maryanne!” Mom scolded.

  “Sorry,” I murmured. Blood and guts weren’t suitable dinner conversation according to Mom. She definitely wouldn’t approve of the recounted battle stories often told around a fire in Sherwood Forest as we ate.

  “Oh, we know what it was like back then. We’ve heard all about it.” Carrie glanced at their houseguest.

  I started to disagree. To tell her that all the books in the world couldn’t show her how terrifying it was to have a sword held to your neck, knowing the swordsman wasn’t afraid to use it. Then it hit me.

  She looked exactly like me. There was an emerald ring on her left hand. And she’d been asking about nobles and Nottingham. My fork clattered to my plate and I leaned back in my seat, looking at her with new eyes. “You’re Maud Fitzwalter.”

  THREE

  I put my head in my hands and rubbed my temples. This was screwed up. No wonder everyone confused me with Maud Fitzwalter when I was in the twelfth century. The girl across the table could have been my twin. Her hair fell in large auburn curls down to her waist where mine was straight and a little shorter, but other than that, we had the same brown eyes, same full lips. Everything about us was the same. And here she was, sitting with my family, at my dinner table, in my time.

  “You see why we had to take her in?” Mom asked, scooping a spoonful of peas from the bowl to my plate. “Dad hoped her father would do the same for you, should you need it.”

  It made complete sense. He’d even told me to go to Maud’s father if I was ever in trouble.

  It was still screwed up.

  “So, what’s your plan, Maryanne? Are you really back to stay or just here for a visit?” Maud was probably worried about where she would live now I was here, because judging by how relaxed she seemed in my house, I didn’t think she was planning on returning to her home anytime soon.

  Suddenly, I didn’t feel like talking. To her, or anyone. I just wanted to bury my head in my pillow and wake up to a normal life. One that didn’t involve time travel, or legends, or anyone that looked the same as me. I put my head in my hands. “Already told you. I can’t go back.”

  “Why not?”

  My God. Could no one here read my cues? “Because that’s the rules,” I snapped. “It’s always been the rules. Nothing’s changed. We can travel twice. No more. That was the entire reason Dad sent me back to fix his mistake rather than going himself.”

  Dad shifted in his seat.

  I ignored him. He’d also wanted me to be Rob’s Marian. That was the other reason he’d sent me.

  Maud shook her head. “That’s not what Tabitha told me.”

  A flame lit inside my gut. I didn’t like Tabitha or her sister, and I was surprised Maud would listen to her given the two of them sent her through time against her will. Tabitha had a billion reasons to lie, and in both our cases they started with her sister. “It’s not like I have a lot of information to go on. I went back to your time knowing nothing about anything.”

  She drew in a breath.

  Okay, that may have been unfair. She had probably come here knowing about the same amount. Less actually, since I had taken history at school, and had my research with Dad to go on.

  Maud put a hand on Dad’s forearm. “That’s not true, is it? In certain circumstances we can travel more than twice.”

  Dad lifted one shoulder. “As far as I’m aware, Maryanne’s correct. Those of us who can travel, can do it only twice. Once there, and once home. If Tabitha knows a way around this, it’s not common knowledge. We’d have to talk to her if we wanted to know more.” Asking Tabitha wasn’t an option, and Dad knew it. The only place we knew where to find her was on the other side of the world. At a full moon.

  Maud’s eyes went distant. “I’m sure it can be done, that there’s a loophole in the rules.” She shook her head. “I don’t recall what it was—it’s been two years, and I didn’t think it applied to me. I did write it in a journal at the time because Tabitha was so insistent I remember.” She gave a sheepish shrug. “But my journals are still locked in my storage locker in London.”

  I shook my head. Sure they were. I felt as if she’d spin anything into what Dad wanted to hear just to make sure she had a place to stay. I trusted Dad in this, because I was fairly certain he’d send me back to Rob tomorrow if there was a way. Maud’s words didn’t give me hope. They weren’t even worth spending another second thinking about.

  I pushed up from my chair. I was bone tired and done talking for the night. It was even an effort to speak nicely to Mom. “I’m sorry. Can we talk more in the morning? I’m exhausted.”

  “Of course, dear.” Mom hugged me before sending me off to the spare room since Maud was living in mine.

  All I wanted now were a few hours of nothingness. A few hours where I could forget about everyone I’d never see again. Forget about Maud. Forget about how disappointed Dad seemed to be at my return.

  I showered—total bliss—and climbed between the sheets. Stretching out in bed was another exquisite moment. For a month, I’d slept on the hard ground, often with just a cloak as my blanket.

  I closed my eyes.

  Rob faced away from me and the hood of his cloak was up, but I knew it was him by the line of his back, the deep brown color of his cloak and the fur lining the hood. Just seeing him made me smile. He was standing at the edge of a grassy field, watching something in the nearby forest in the early morning light. He carried no bow with him, no sword. Somehow, I knew they were nearby, close enough to reach should he need them, but nowhere I could see.

  There was a noise, a whooshing, a sound I should have recognized but didn’t. He grunted, dropped to his knees, then toppled forward into the long grass, an arrow embedded in the center of his back.

  No!

  I ran. I had to help him. To stop the bleeding, to remove the arrow. Blood bubbled from the wound and Rob was still. I tried but couldn’t get any closer. Horse hooves pounded into the dirt behind me. A woman screamed. Perhaps it was me. Mocking laughter assaulted my ears.

  Gisborne. He did this.

  Rob was dying.

  My heart was breaking. I couldn’t help him.

  I woke in the darkness, my pajamas plastered to my body with sweat. The dream felt so real, like it had actually happened. I could still smell the lingering metallic tang of blood in the back of my nostrils. The only thing that made me certain it was my imagination playing a cruel trick, was that Gisborne had done it, and before I left the twelfth century, I’d seen him die. He couldn’t still be hunting Rob.

  I moved to my window seat, dragging my duvet with me, and propped my pillow behind my back. I stayed that way for the rest of the night, throwing my window open for fresh air. Every time I closed my eyes for longer than a second, I saw it all over again. Staying awake was the better option. The only option. Sometime after the sun rose the dream faded, and I climbed back between the sheets and closed my eyes.

  I woke to someone knocking at my door. It seemed only minutes had passed since I lay my head against the pillow. Carrie walked in holding a tray piled with food. “Dinner?”

  I rubbed my eyes and squinted at the clock. “I’ve slept the entire day?” If only I felt more rested for all the hours in bed.

  She placed the tray on my lap. “You must be exhausted.” She opened her mouth like she wanted to say something more and then changed her mind, leaving me alone with my thoughts.

  The meal looked tasty—lasagna and lettuce salad—but any hunger left with the sound of my family laughing together around the dinner table downstairs. It brought back memories of my life before
Sherwood Forest, when I’d taken every meal in my room and barely spoken to any of them. Nothing had changed. I was still eating in my room on my own. And they still thought that was all right. What had made me think for the past month that I needed to get back here?

  I put the tray on the floor and closed my eyes.

  The crowd was big, and I was in the middle of it. People jostled, talking quietly to the person next to them, pushing and shoving for a better view. I stood on tiptoes, searching to find what took their attention.

  Gisborne. Standing high on a platform with Nottingham Castle looming behind him.

  He was dressed well. Not in his riding gear and chainmail, but in grey pants and a blue top that matched his eyes. His wavy black hair fell around his face as he talked quietly to someone. Someone wearing a brown cloak. I couldn’t see his face, but I knew it was Rob. Gisborne turned to speak to the crowd. “Sherwood Forest is safe once more. Robin Hood has seen the error of his ways. No longer will he make travel through the forest difficult. He’ll instead spend his days with me, his brother.”

  Then Rob and Gisborne were gone, and Miller was staring at me. His eyes were filled with unshed tears, his face so bruised and swollen it was almost unrecognizable. And in the distance, Gisborne laughed.

  Josh came to my room the following day. At least I think it was the following day. My sleep pattern was so out of whack it could have been two days later. I hadn’t left my room since the first night. Couldn’t. I was too tired. Too angry. Too scared.

  “Will you read to me?” His favorite book was tucked into his right hand.

  I nodded and he snuggled into bed beside me. I didn’t need the book. Knew the words already. I wasn’t even through half the story when he interrupted. “Are you going to leave me again, Maryanne? Do you wish you weren’t home? Is that why you won’t come out of your room?”

  Excellent questions from the nine-year-old. Questions I couldn’t answer honestly because the truth broke my heart. Yes, I wished I was somewhere else. Aside from Josh, there was nothing here for me. Hadn’t been for a long time. I’d missed the familiarity while I was away, nothing else. I wasn’t leaving though. That was a question I could answer truthfully. “No, Joshy, I’m not going anywhere. Why would you think that?” Apart from the fact that I’d been all kinds of anti-social since I returned.

  “Dad says so.”

  The hackles on my neck rose. Anything to do with Dad seemed to push my buttons lately. “Dad hasn’t talked to me at all since I got home. He doesn’t have a clue what I want.”

  Josh shrugged. If he heard my anger, he ignored it. “He said if that’s really what you want, he’ll find a way to send you back. He said it would rip him apart to watch you leave again, but he can’t stand it that you hate being here so much you won’t come near any of us.”

  Was that how it looked? “I’m just tired, Josh. It’s only been a couple of days. Give me time.” I wrapped my arm around his shoulders and gave him a squeeze.

  “Try a couple of weeks.”

  “No.” I shook my head. “There’s no way it’s been that long.”

  “Take a look in the mirror. You don’t eat, and you’ve got extra skinny.” He jumped up and grabbed a hand mirror off the dresser, holding it out so I could see my reflection.

  I winced. My hair was a knotted mess on top of my head, my skin pallid, and my cheeks hollow. Two weeks? How could that be?

  “So, are you going to leave again, Maryanne? Because I need you to tell me if you’re going this time. I need to say goodbye.”

  Josh was like a light on a dark night. I hugged him tight. “I’m not going anywhere, bud.” And starting tomorrow, I was going to come out of my room more often.

  “What are you doing out here all alone?” Rob’s voice floated to me from behind. I turned to find him watching from high on the bank of the river. He looked good in his dark green pants. No cloak, no bow, just a sword strapped around his waist, and a short-sleeved tunic that showed off the muscles in his arms.

  I looked past him, trying to work out where I was. My feet were soaking in the cool water, but I didn’t recognize the river, had never been here before. It was another dream, born from a vivid imagination. I stood up. My dreams of Rob lately had all ended badly. Usually with him shot in the back. I wasn’t sticking around to watch that happen again.

  He jogged down the bank and grabbed my hand. “Where are you going?”

  I shrugged. Away, I guessed. Somewhere I didn’t have to see him die again.

  He shook his head. “Not going to die.”

  I’d spoken aloud?

  His thumb ran across the back of my hand and I shivered. I’d give so much to feel his touch again in real life.

  I shook my head, trying to dislodge him from my dream. I knew how this would end. I didn’t need to see it again.

  “Maryanne? What’s wrong? Aren’t you pleased to see me? Because I am beyond pleased to see you.”

  I could sit and drink in his profile all day. “I’d rather I didn’t have to see you in my dreams.”

  He frowned. “This isn’t your dream.”

  I nodded. “It is.” Rob was all I’d dreamed of since I came home.

  “It’s mine.”

  I laughed. Dreams never made sense. “What makes you so sure?”

  “Ever since Tabitha ripped you away from us, I’ve been wishing to dream of you. Finally, my wish was granted.”

  I looked down at myself. I was wearing the beautiful blue and white gown the Sheriff gave me. Maybe this was his dream. If it was mine, I’d probably be wearing jeans and a t-shirt. Or maybe my pajamas since that’s all I ever wore these days. I grinned. “Can’t be. I remember you telling me how you’d like me to dress in your dreams, and it wasn’t like this.”

  His answering smile was wicked, and my heart faltered. He remembered. He spread his hands in the direction of the water. “You want to swim? Don’t let me stop you.”

  “After you.” I was tempted, if only because I knew this was a dream.

  He shook his head.

  “Why not?” I laughed. He was all talk.

  His eyes turned sad. “Because I don’t want to turn my back on you. You might disappear again.”

  I sighed. Way to bring the mood down. “How is everyone?” Tuck, Miller, John. I wanted to hear about them all.

  He shook his head. “Winter’s hard, Maryanne. We can’t help the people who need it. The Sheriff made sure of that.”

  “I’m sure you’ll find a way.” He always did.

  He shook his head again. “I could do it if you were here. You always find a way past every problem that seems huge.” He met my eyes with a smile. “Plus, I miss you.”

  “I miss you, too.”

  I wanted so much for that dream to be real, to have a real conversation with Rob. I also wished I’d had more time. Time to hear how he was doing, how they were all doing. I wanted to know about the carriages they’d robbed and the people they’d helped, and how crazy they’d driven the Sheriff with all the things they’d done. The dream—the wishful thinking—had faded too fast, and instead we’d talked about things that didn’t matter.

  I hugged the dream tight, hoping it’d get me through the night, but I woke while it was still dark to visions of villages torn apart by soldiers, maimed and dead people, always accompanied by Gisborne’s hollow laughter. I even saw John, curled around himself and screaming out in pain as blood spurted from one hand. It seemed as if I was destined never to sleep again because just closing my eyes brought tongue-less or eye-less victims.

  I climbed out of bed, weary, but wary of sleep. If I couldn’t get rid of the dreams, I had to get used to operating on little to no sleep. The night was warm, and I wandered outside and sat on the swing Dad built when Carrie and I were little. I still remembered how excited I’d been watching him hang it from the lowest limb of the huge oak in the backyard.

  The back door opened and Maud, wearing a nightdre
ss that covered her all the way to her elbows and knees—I guessed some habits die hard—stepped outside. She was carrying a book which she placed on her knee when she sat on the garden seat nearby. “Can’t sleep?”

  “Bad dreams.” Terrible nightmares to be more exact.

  Her nod was slow. “About?”

  I sighed. Maybe talking about the dreams would make them stop. It was worth a try. “The people I knew in your time. About them dying horrible deaths. Or doing things totally out of character.”

  “And Tabitha didn’t warn you this might happen?”

  I shook my head. Tabitha hadn’t spoken to me once she dragged me into the portal. Or if she had, I didn’t recall. I barely remembered any of the trip back through time. “Do you think the dreams are a side effect of the time travel? Because I didn’t get them when I went through the first time.” Instead, I’d lost memories, only to have them all return at once. This felt different though.

  She lifted one shoulder. She had no more answers than I did. “Do you wish you could go back? To marry Gisborne? Is that why you’re so…sad?”

  I almost choked. Marrying Gisborne wasn’t on my list of things to do. “I’m not sad. Gisborne and I…we didn’t exactly see eye to eye.” Not to mention, he thought I was her. “He tried to kill Rob while I was there.” As well as almost succeeding before I met either of them. “Anyway, I think he’s dead.”

  Maud sighed, her eyes going distant. If hearing of her fiancé’s demise bothered her, she didn’t show it. “You know, Gisborne always felt like their mother loved Rob more, and that she thought Rob’s father had been a better man than his own. He felt he had something to prove, and if I know him, he wouldn’t have wanted to lose everything he’d gained when his little brother returned from the dead.” Meaning he didn’t want to lose his land or titles. Land and titles that should belong to Rob.

  I lifted my eyebrows, a sudden flash of anger heating my words. “And that’s a good reason to try to kill someone? Just because he didn’t get the love he felt he was entitled to? Rob didn’t get it either—he was tossed out into the forest to die—and he doesn’t spend his life being a bastard to everyone he comes across.”