“But against a force this size, I doubt those Saxon Dogs would dare show themselves. They are after all, mostly cowards.”“You are probably right... my Lord Sheriff. It is one thing for them to harass these local bumpkins, but these are Prince John’s finest that surround us. I fear my sword shall not taste outlaw blood this day.” he replied as he stroked his rich dark beard.“Death, ... bloodshed, is that all you men ever think of?” said a soft feminine voice from behind the two. “Isn’t it enough. Rowan's sword did not flame with anger or peril, and his companion drew her long stabbing dagger and the shorter knife that had wounded Rowan's leg in each of her hands. Together they searched through the grass until they found the near bloodless and wraith-pale form of the former Sergeant Worrel, still lying in a dried pool of blood where he had fallen, when his former traitor in crime had dumped him after running him through nearly a week ago.Although Rowan and Gwenda knew nothing of the. More

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