The thump on the roof turned to low, rhythmic thuds as the person-or persons-moved about up there.

“Stand off!” came another shout, followed by a sharp whiz that she recognized as an arrow’s flight. A soft twang followed as it embedded itself in a target close enough for her to hear it.

Marian couldn’t see what was happening, but she suspected she knew. The thieves had surrounded the two carts and now held the men-at-arms from moving. Most likely, they were holding them off with arrows nocked into their bows, ready to fly at any moment. The one she’d heard had probably been an accurately charged warning shot.

At least two of the thieves had landed on her roof, likely jumping down from a tree. But surely six chain-mailed men would be enough of a deterrent for a ragtag band of thieves, unless they were particularly good archers. The shouts had settled into silence, and despite her certainty that she wouldn’t be harmed, Marian’s heart pounded in her chest.

Before she could move to the other side of the cart, making her way over the prone Ethelberga, the vehicle began to rock violently. Ethelberga screamed anew, clutching at the hem of Marian’s undertunic, tangling herself among the floor-length skirt and her legs.

With the rocking of the cart, and her maid’s histrionics, Marian lost her balance in the small space and had to catch herself against the closed door. But at that moment, the door opened, and she tumbled out, the dagger slipping from her grip. Strong arms caught her awkward fall, and the knife landed on the ground between two dusty boots.

“Well, now,” said a surprised voice. “This must be the famous Lady Marian come to greet Robin of the Hood and his merry men.” His arms tightened around her. “You are well come to our Sherwood, my lady,” he added.

In the midst of the furor, Marian heard the rumble of laughter from the surrounding men, and she turned to look at who had the effrontery to hold her in his arms as though she belonged there. Her angry words died in her throat as she met familiar blue eyes, sparkling with mischief and jest. Despite the beard and mustache that covered half of his face, she recognized him.