Katherine was not a good horsewoman, and she had to use all her skill and concentration to remain on Guy's horse and negotiate the narrow path leading from the gate.
But the terror of being caught made her determined. Once she reached the bottom of the path, she leaned forward, kicked the horse into life and galloped through the streets of Nottingham. At any second she expected to hear the hooves behind her, but they would have to work hard to catch her, she would do as Guy said, she would let the horse have its head and take her to safety.
She raced towards the countryside, uncertain of the direction that would take her away from danger, just riding hard to get as far away as she could. She could barely breathe as she raced along, the muscles in her arms and legs screaming for her to stop. She felt as if her arms were being wrenched from her shoulders, but she still clung to the reigns.
Where to go? Sir John's friends? She could imagine the Sheriff winding his net around them and dragging her back. He would use the law somehow to ensnare her again. No, she must go to people who lived outside the law. Hood had offered her help, now was the time to see if he would keep his word.
She rode until the fields turned into woodland and then she slowed the horse and let it pick its way around the trees, to take her deeper into the forest. Only when she felt completely surrounded by the dense woodland did she stop.
She had no idea if she was safe yet, but if she kept on riding, she would slip from the saddle with exhaustion. She dismounted, and patted the horse, noticing the sweat on its coat and the way it was straining to breath. It matched her own efforts to pull in air. ‘Good girl, good girl,’ she panted, stroking it and then she slid down on to her knees and stayed there taking in deep gulps of air.
Now she could think about what Guy had done for her and it made her cry out. She tried not to think of her last view of him, lashing out with his sword, withstanding a welter of blows. He had done it for her, to save her from marrying Gifford.
A surge of emotion hit her and such regret that she had not been kinder to him, could not have given him what he wanted. He must have loved me, she thought sadly, he must have really loved me.’
The tears started to course down her cheeks as she thought of how she had misjudged the depth of his emotion.
She stayed there for some time and then slowly hauled herself to her feet. Her hand went to the necklace. She was tempted to hurl it into the undergrowth but the practical side of her recognised that it was the only asset she now possessed.
She was wrong. If she had looked in the saddlebags she would have realised she was a wealthy woman again, for Guy had packed as much money into them as he could without overloading his horse. In there too was Sir John's will, the one Gifford had wrung out of him in that last week of his life.
She would find all this later, just as she would also find Robin Hood and tell him and his incredulous men what had happened to her.
But that was all a little way in the future. For now she just stood there and thought of the man who had sacrificed everything for her safety. She wished fervently that she could save him from what he would undoubtedly suffer at the hands of Vasey and Gifford.
