What was the reason? Was it Mark? The kid had feelings for Sophie, any fool could see that. But Dale had always assumed she wanted a real man, or at least someone old enough to vote and drink — not that laws about that stuff meant anything in this world.
The fact that Sophie was giving him the run around when all he wanted was… to show her how much she meant to him suggested that she must have feelings for someone else. What right did he have to interfere with that? If he hadn't been able to love Paige, then perhaps he couldn't love anyone, even Sophie.
Dale shook his head, this wasn't what he should be thinking about at the moment. The discontentment and the griping of the men; and whether he should talk to-
"Jack!" he was shouting to the large man before he realised he was doing it. "Hey Jack!" Now he was getting up and waving, grabbing his guitar and dashing down the steps to catch Jack as he came out of a side door of the castle.
"Hey Dale," replied his superior. As always, he had his staff resting over his shoulder. "You haven't seen Adele on your travels, have you?"
Dale told him he hadn't. And though he couldn't help it, a picture of that woman now flashed into his mind: her short, black hair, full lips. How he wished he'd been the one to save her that night in York rather than Robert.
Stop it, can't you see Jack fancies her?You just can't help yourself, can you?
"Not to worry," Jack said. Dale could tell he had more on his mind than where Adele was.
"Is everything okay?" he asked.
"Hmmm? Yeah. Well, no, not really. Did you want something?"
Dale thought about whether this was the right time, about whether he should even be speaking to Jack rather than Robert, but the words were escaping before he could contain them. "It's the men."
Jack turned to him. "What about them?"
"They're… I don't know how to say this."
"Just spit it out."
"They're overstretched, tired. They're beginning to moan about the workload, about patrols, about the last time they had any time off."
"Time off?" Jack said it like the concept was completely alien. "This isn't a damned holiday camp."
Dale held up his hands, his guitar flying out sideways. "I know that, and they do too. But, look, with this new thing — the cult — they've been run ragged trying to fight them. They're only human."
Jack gave a reluctant nod. "I understand. I just don't know what we can do about it. Maybe when we've got on top of this-"
"I don't know if you've got that long."
Jack sighed. "If you only knew." His face betrayed him. Dale could see he knew something else he wasn't passing on… or the troops.
"What? Tell me." He didn't really have the right to demand any kind of information, but was hoping Jack might tell him anyway.
"I'd rather wait until… Robert!"
Dale followed Jack's gaze down to the gate, where Robert and Mark had appeared on horseback, returning from their visit to Sherwood.
Jack made his way briskly down to the riders, Dale not far behind. He ignored the glare from Mark, using Robert's second as a justification to be there.
"Robbie, I'm so glad that you're back," shouted the big man.
"So am I. In some ways," Robert said, then looked over at Mark. Dale realised that more than training had occurred in Sherwood. More secrets he wasn't yet privy to.
"I've got something to tell you," Jack said, walking up to the horse and stroking it. "But maybe it should be someplace more private, y'know?"
"Could I just say something first?" Dale cut in.
"No," answered Mark without hesitation.
Robert gave the boy a severe look, then turned to Dale: "What is it?"
He studied them each in turn. "I know something's kicking off here. I just thought you ought to be aware that you could have some walkouts on your hands if you're not careful."
"Dale was just telling me that the men aren't too happy."
"Is that so?" Robert said, as he dismounted.
"I don't want to go behind anyone's back or anything, just thought you needed to know the score." Dale told him.
"To be fair, they are being stretched a bit thin, Robbie. Possibly even thinner soon."
That was another slip, and now Dale was desperate to know what Jack had discovered. If they were about to face something else on top of the Morningstars, then he and the others had a right to know. They were the ones putting their lives on the line.
"Okay, Dale," said Robert finally, "we'll sort this out later." Then before he could say anything else, the man in charge added: "I promise. Right now I need to speak with Jack, probably as much as he does with me." Robert turned to his right hand man. "Fetch Tate and Mary, too. If you're about to tell me what I think you are, they should hear this as well."
Dale watched as Mark got off his horse, and the three of them made their way back up the path. Things hadn't quite gone as he'd expected them to. In spite of jeopardising his standing in the ranks by telling Jack and Robert about the unrest, Dale still wasn't part of that inner circle. He'd been noticed by the talent-spotters, but not signed to a label yet. What made it worse was that Mark was turning as the group led the horses away, looking over his shoulder and glaring at Dale again. He was automatically included in the talks, as one of the core band that had come here. Could Dale's hard work all fall apart again because of a girl? Because of his messing about with Sophie, and Mark's feelings about that?
But Robert had promised to talk to him later, so he'd no doubt find out what was going on then. Better late than not at all.
Dale sat down on a bench and began to strum his guitar. One day when stories were written and songs sung about their exploits, Dale still intended to feature prominently.
They gathered in one of the rooms inside the castle: Robert, Mark, Tate, Mary and Jack. All the original members of Robert's team, barring one, but it wasn't long before he was mentioned.
"This afternoon we received a radio message from Bill," Jack told them. He'd kept up with his CB interests after moving to the castle, as a way of keeping in touch with places beyond Nottingham. "Actually, it wasn't from Bill himself, it was from one of his… I dunno what you'd call 'em, staff?"
Robert shrugged his shoulders. Bill was a bit of a sore point with him.
"Anyhow, turns out there's a force that's hit the coastline up near Whitby, Scarborough, Bridlington. They used hovercraft to get their vehicles ashore: tanks, jeeps, the whole deal. And they've been striking villages and towns as they make their way inland. Bill's been monitoring the situation through his network of markets, getting to places that have been struck and offering help. Otherwise I think he would have come here in person to warn us."
"I know," said Robert simply, and Jack, Tate and Mary all looked at him. "About the army, I mean."
"Me too," added Mark, and they switched their focus to him.
"How?" asked Jack. "I only got the call a couple of hours ago, and you've been off in the forest."
Robert looked at Tate, who blinked his understanding. "I think you've just answered your own question, Jack," the Reverend said, though the American looked none the wiser. "They were in Sherwood."
"The man in charge is Russian, I think," continued Robert.
"I'll be God-damned," Jack said, blowing out a breath. "The radio message mentioned Russian troops."
"There's another thing." Robert walked around the room; Mark was biting his lip in anticipation of what was about to be said. "Tanek's with them."
"What?" said Tate, having to rest on his stick.
"It's true, Reverend. Robbie's three for three. That was also part of the warning."