Daughter of Sherwood by Laura Strickland Read Free Book Online

think the Green Man cares for lords and barons? He rewards those who see—and hear and feel—him best.”
    “Where is he, then, this green god?”
    “Beneath your feet, dancing through the air, in Sparrow’s eyes, and in Martin’s smile. The longer you stay here, the more strongly will your powers come to you. And when they ripen, you will need to make a choice.”
    “What kind of choice?”
    “Eventually, child, you will bond with both of them.”
    “Sparrow and Martin?”
    “Aye, but you will need to bestow on one of them the fullness of your heart.” Lil gazed into the far distance. “As I did, before you.”
    Rennie’s mind leaped ahead. “Geofrey? Did you love him, then, full well?”
    “Not love as you imagine it. ’Tis the love of the Lord for his Lady, and all men for all women—a holy, as well as a carnal, thing.”
    “I do not understand.”
    Lil reached out to smooth Rennie’s hair. “Nay, but you will.” She smiled sadly. “I half pity and half envy you. Promise me one thing: you will stay here and learn all those here have to teach you, even as in the past you learned from me.”
    “I will try.” Rennie frowned. “But you know how I hate being told what to do.”
    “Oh, that I do know!” Lil laughed with affection.
    “Very well, I do so promise, if you will promise me something in return: you will be here when I need you.”
    “I will try, love. But you need to be able to rely on yourself.”
    “Say that I will see you tomorrow.”
    “That is when Geofrey will be laid to rest. Alric and I must be there.”
    “Where?”
    “Beneath the great tree at Oakham.”
    “Let me come.”
    Lil gave Rennie a hard look. “Well, then, yes. Sparrow may bring you. But you must heed all he tells you. I will speak with him now.”
    Why Sparrow, Rennie wondered, and not Martin? She seized Lil’s arm and immediately felt Lil’s serenity, her grief—and strength. “Promise me a second thing, Mother—that you will not abandon me.”
    ****
    “Here.” A bundle landed in Rennie’s lap, soft deerskin and well-worn cloth.
    She looked up into Martin’s blue eyes. “What is this?”
    “Clothing. If you wish to go to Geofrey’s burial, it must be as a lad. Anyway, those rags you are wearing are fit only for the fire.”
    Rennie narrowed her eyes at him. Was he not a fine one to talk, an outlaw by birth, who had lived his whole life rough, in the forest? He wore leather leggings, overwrapped with deer-hide thongs, and a leather jerkin so soft it molded to his broad shoulders, loosened in front to show a strong, tanned throat. No denying Martin Scarlet was a comely man and a challenging one, given the way he stared back at her, tit for tat. Rennie did not want him to get the idea he could give her orders of any kind, and she did not like the implication that her own clothes might be manky. Yet there was some appeal in the prospect of wearing men’s clothing, and disappearing into a disguise.
    She scrambled to her feet, hampered by the bundle, and Martin reached out a hand to assist her. The instant their hands met, palm to palm, sensation came rushing, so strong she almost fell down again.
    Darkness, light, courage, intensity, and searing anger, burning up a great bitterness the way flame consumes dry tinder. She could feel his spirit, and it knocked the breath out of her, swayed her right back on her heels. She stared into Martin’s face and saw his eyes widen, the irises clear gray-blue, and knew he also felt the blazing connection.
    And what did he sense in her, then? Her overwhelming frustration? Her bone-deep loneliness and yearning for light? Her ever-present fear of abandonment?
    He gasped and, as soon as Rennie stood on her feet, extracted his fingers from hers. Wordless, they stared at one another while Rennie’s heart began to pound.
    Then Martin swore, soft and deep. “By our Lady!” Something kindled in his eyes, and he stepped toward her.
    Just as quickly, Rennie slipped