Jack saw that it was the head of The Tsar.
'Now… get the
Dale and the Rangers began rounding up as many of the Russians as possible, but they were too few in number to go after both the soldiers and the escaping prisoners.
It wasn't long before an armoured vehicle came in through the already smashed gates, following closely by a jeep.
Surfing the AFV was Robert, bow in one hand and mike in the other, the cable stretching into the vehicle. He called for help and two Rangers came over. Soon they were carrying a half-conscious Mary from the vehicle. Sophie, who was driving the jeep, needed assistance as well, and a Ranger put an arm around Mark, helping the lad hobble out. Tate was also helped from the jeep, but waved the Rangers away once he was on his feet again. Up on the Middle Bailey, Bill's helicopter was setting down.
Jack and Dale went over, and the first thing Jack did was hold out his hand, which Robert shook gladly. 'It's good to see you, boss,' he told him. Jack watched Mary going past, saw Mark and Sophie's injuries, and he struggled to fight back the tears. 'I'm sorry. This is my fault. I told them where you'd be… I mean, I didn't know
'Don't, Jack. It's okay.' Robert placed a comforting hand on Jack's shoulder; a hand wrapped in a bloodied bandage. 'Really.'
'How did you…' Dale began, then: 'The last time I saw you, you were…'
Robert held up a finger. 'Later, eh? I'll tell you guys everything then. Let's make sure the grounds and castle are clear first, then tend to our wounded.'
'Like you?' Jack pointed at the bloodstains at Robert's leg and shoulder.
'We've all been in the wars,' Robert said quietly, nodding at the state of Jack.
'Aye, that's one way o' putting it.' This was Bill, joining them, and Jack hugged the member of their family he hadn't seen in so long.
Jack felt Dale moving away from his side, going off towards Sophie, asking how she was. Jack also saw the look Mark gave the lad. Even after everything that had happened, there were some things that still needed settling. Lots of things in fact.
But it would take a while, Jack knew that. They'd been here before. Yet that victory had felt so much cleaner, much more final. When they'd ousted the Sheriff it was after a lengthy campaign of terror on his part. The Tsar had managed to achieve more than he did in much less time. And they almost hadn't regained what was theirs. The price had been high. So many injured, including those closest to them. So many dead.
Everything felt broken.
Jack also knew what Robert would say to that. What was broken could be mended… usually. He just couldn't help thinking that the scars from today would remain long after the battles were just a memory. That the ramifications might prove tremendous.
Jack exhaled. He didn't have the energy to think about it. His body was crying out for rest, reminding him of every little thing he'd gone through. Like Mary, Mark, Robert and the others — even the castle itself — they needed to heal the physical before anything else.
Then, and only then, could they begin to find their way.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
They'd all lost their way to some extent.
It wasn't until he took a step back from everything that he saw. It had taken so much to go wrong, before it could start to go right again. But then, Spring was here and it was the time for new beginnings.
Robert looked out over the flowers that were blooming near the war memorial. The place they'd buried the dead from the battle with De Falaise, and those who'd died when The Tsar's forces had — briefly — taken the castle. Those who had fallen in the skirmish with the suited man's legions (Robert had since learned his name was Bohuslav) were buried where they'd made their stand against them, once all the detritus had been cleared. Tate had performed a moving service at both sites.
They were still counting the cost, not just in terms of numbers but also morale. Those who were fit enough had been given the task of repairing parts of the castle that had been hit the worst. It had kept them focused on something other than training and fighting, given them a common goal of restoring their home.
Because that's what this place was to them. He'd said it himself over the speaker when they'd arrived back here, commandeering The Tsar's own vehicle to take the place back (he'd used it reluctantly, conceding that Bill was right and they had no choice on this occasion; they needed to get Mary back to the castle quickly
For the first time, he'd actually meant it. This was where he belonged, at least for now.
That didn't mean he was abandoning Sherwood — his
Relationships were being renewed,
Poor Lucy. It hurt Robert to even think about her with the others near that memorial.
Bill, though he had things to attend to first with his market network, had agreed to come back and help with the general day-to-day running of the Rangers. He claimed Robert needed someone to 'keep a bloody eye on him'. This would allow The Hooded Man to go on more patrols, to be out there where he should be. 'I still think ye should be armin' them lads properly,' he'd said, Bill being Bill. But for now he seemed to have dropped the subject. For one thing he was busy fixing up one of the Black Shark attack helicopters they'd retrieved near Doncaster. 'Look at that beauty,' he'd practically drooled. 'It'll be protection for the castle while you get your other defences up and running again…' Robert was too tired and too preoccupied to argue with him this time.
Bill would be helped by Tate, who'd moved back permanently. Robert felt the most sorry for him. They'd both gone out to New Hope, after hearing that Gwen and Clive Jr were alive and safe, that they'd somehow escaped on their own. But Robert and Tate had been prevented from entering the village by the armed guards at the entrance. After Tate told them they weren't moving until they saw Gwen, the woman had reluctantly appeared. At first she wouldn't even look at the Reverend, even after he apologised. Then, when she did, she told him:
'I never want to see you again. Don't come here any more.'
Robert saw how much the words upset Tate — he'd only been doing what he thought best. The Reverend never spoke all the way home.
But even he hadn't moped as much as Jack. Robert's second had taken both Adele's betrayal and his own — he called it that no matter what Robert said — to heart. Or maybe it had been the torture; sometimes he woke the whole castle up at night with his bad dreams. Perhaps Robert's forthcoming wedding would take his mind off things. Who knows, maybe Jack would even meet someone from the neighbouring villages at that, because — like last