The Greenwood Shadow Read Free Page A

those mouths to feed. They'd need as much of the money as anyone.
    She reached into the bag and felt around for a few of the silvers. Her fingers touched nothing but thin leather. That couldn't be right! Was there a hole in the bag? Had she lost the rest?
    After a long and panicked search, she came to the conclusion that the answer was no. There were no holes anywhere, and only two silvers remained from the entire four sacks. She knew the tax season had been hard, and she had been careful, but really?
    The huge bear of a father, Fendrick, charged around the side of the cottage after his two-year-old. Evey didn't know the boy's name, but she instantly knew him by sight. He was such a cute little guy, with a puff of fuzzy blonde hair and a grin that made him look like he was always up to no good.
    Fendrick scooped him up with a bellowing laugh that reached all the way to the tree line where Evey hid. He said something that she couldn't hear, and the boy giggled. He tried to escape his father's clutches, but Fendrick was too experienced for that. He just tossed the laughing boy over his shoulder and jogged back to the front of the cottage.
    Evey's stomach twisted into a sick knot. They needed the money so badly. Two silvers wouldn't be near enough. Five little boys could eat a baron out of house and home. But there was the one-armed man by the river in the next village. And the young couple with the newborn.
    Alaine and her daughter hadn't gotten any, either, and Evey never missed them. Never. She had watched Gwin grow into such a good little girl. They needed her. She needed them.
    Evey looked at the silver in her palm. It looked so insignificant, in the dim light.
    The innkeeper! She'd forgotten the innkeeper. He needed it more than anyone. His wife was so sick, and needed a healer desperately. Healers could be brutal, and they didn't take crops as payment. But those boys, and Gwin...
    Evey punched the ground. It was soft and mossy, and squashed under her fist with a very satisfying splat, but it didn't make her feel better. She was sixteen. She shouldn't have to make these kinds of choices. To choose who might live or die, because of the help she did or didn't give.
    She stood to leave. Gwin was a good girl. She would understand that the innkeeper's wife needed this money. She would be okay. Hopefully. Would Fendrick's family survive, too?
    Evey hid the money round the back of the inn, where she knew the keeper would find it. Then she headed for the front entrance. As she pushed open the door, a roar of laughter flooded her ears. She got sucked into the tap room on a tide of jostling elbows and enthusiastic toasting.
    A normal night at the inn would have four or five customers, usually there for a drink. An especially good night could reach ten. Once a year the minstrels came through, and fifteen or twenty people would crowd in to hear them. But the sight that greeted Evey was incredible.
    The small room was packed. There were even people from other villages. Twice she reached twenty-five before the milling crowd made it impossible to keep count.
    They all seemed to be focused on the corner. Small as she was, she navigated through the confusion until she could see. There were two men at a table. One was blonde. The other was dark-haired and tan. Both wore swords and were still in half-armor. They seemed remarkably familiar, even without their full gear.
    The steward's soldiers. These were the men she had robbed earlier that same day.
    "Okay, okay, we'll tell it again, but mix round a bit, so the others can hear," the dark soldier said in an unfamiliar accent. Probably from down toward London.
    Evey looked him over with the eye of a fighter. Even sitting, he was taller than she was. He had an intelligent face and huge, muscled arms. One blow from that sword could slice her clean in two.
    "Get on with it Bill. You're better at this than me," the other soldier demanded.
    He was much smaller, but no less well built. Evey could