Maid Marian (24 page)

“When we returned, and I saw you that moment, I knew—ah, Marian—I ought to have stopped then and told you all, but I was so pleased to be at the point of action I could hardly take time to rouse the men. All the long way down Watling Street and Fosse Way, I’d plotted our approach to Nottingham Castle, and I didn’t want to waste a minute once I’d come. But I tell you now, I rue my haste, for if I’d had time to speak with you, you might have been there when I returned, and we could have flown the forest together.”

I said nothing, merely nodded my head, for ’twas enough that he regretted his actions—I needn’t tell him what pain he’d caused. Too, I thought of my fresh revelation, that I’d fled from the weight of Robin’s sweet love, and felt too chagrined to tell my part. There would be time enough to lay bare my soul—I needn’t begin in the first hour. So on he went to tell me how they’d stormed the castle through guise and stealth, using the king’s captain as their foil.

“When we were well outside town, we took five of the prince’s guards and stripped their clothes, and these outfits I put on my own body and Will Scarlet’s, Adam Bell’s, Will Stutley’s, and David of Doncaster’s. Then I had all the rest of the men go with their hands behind their backs, like this, you see? With their swords well hidden, in groups behind those of us in uniform. The captain I had ride at the fore, with orders to tell the castle guards that we’d taken these outlaws in Sherwood and came to collect the prince’s reward. That gained us entry in the castle walls, and once we were in all the men broke loose, pummeling the mercenaries with a demon fire.”

His eyes glazed like ice on a pond’s edge.

“They each had lengths of stout rawhide with which to tie up the men as they seized them, and after an hour, or perhaps ’twas two, the whole castle fell silent. All I could hear were rude jests from our side and groans from the men we’d taken. And then I had the joy of taking our due from the queen’s young page, near my own weight in silver, I swear to it. Our band returned to the Greenwood tree to celebrate and divvy our coin. And then I told them that this was to be our last grand outing, for now that I’d been to speak with the queen, I thought we wouldn’t have many days left of merry safety in our wood. The time had come for our group to disband.”

“Oh, Robin,” I breathed.

“Indeed, my love. ’Twas a sad hour, perhaps sadder for me than for the others. They took it with long faces, as you’d expect, so I explained how I was to leave, but that Will Scarlet and others had determined to make for Needwood Forest. They’d make a new band there and would welcome any who wished to join them. This brought the men to cheers again, and as they hurrahed, I left the group in search of you, for now that I had the contract with me, I wanted to tell you of our great catch.”

Here I turned away from his eye, ashamed once again of my own foolhardiness. “But I had gone,” I whispered, thinking I would spare him from telling that part.

“You had gone. I was so distraught, Marian, I did not know what to do with myself. Annie was there by that time and had read through your letter, so she calmed me somewhat. And as we spoke the matter over I came to see that ’twas through my own rashness that you’d thought to leave, not knowing what bargains I’d struck. Oh, I was wretched! But Annie worked at length to soothe me, and in time we talked of where you might have gone, and she told me her thoughts.”

“And do you know where Annie is now? Has she returned to Wodesley village?”

“Aye, that she has. I stopped there to see her, seeking news of you, though she had none to give. She seemed a bit restless in her old life, to tell the truth. I suspect she’s not taken to the ways of the farmer as easily as she thought she might.”

“Ah, dear Annie,” I said, feeling a fondness for her that warmed me greatly.

“Hold off, though, Marian, for there’s more to my tale. As I was talking with Annie, a great noise came crashing from the wood. Out we went, and there was that dandy, the new sheriff of Nottingham, come with a whole band to seize our men! It pains me to say so, but it seemed the king’s captain had told him about us and how to find our Greenwood tree—the bloody scoundrel. I never had liked his looks. So our men set at them with swords and arrows, and I ran about shouting that they should flee, for you know we’ve our meeting place, where we could regroup.

“’Twas a nasty moment, for several of our men were killed outright, though bold as they are none was taken alive. But most escaped to the old elm cave, and there we met like a bunch of rats, shivering in the cold and damp. All that night we waited, listening, and when morning came we slipped back to camp to bury the dead and pack our belongings, for we were off to our separate ways. The men split into small traveling groups, most headed for Needwood by roundabout ways. We agreed to meet there in a full month’s time. ’Twas wretched, Marian, to leave those men—not so much to leave the life, for I was still determined to find you out and trade that roguish life for a better one with you.

“But I feared for their safety and worried what shelter they’d find for the winter and if they’d have food enough to survive. I knew each man had a good purse of silver from our work at the castle, and a fine suit of clothes thanks to your handiwork, but even so an outlaw’s safety is a tenuous thing. Will and I talked about rules to establish, how he should form a river trail that every man must splash through on his way to camp, so no dogs could follow along the scent, and how the men should wear whatever costume the local foresters wore, like we’d done with our Lincoln green. Will’s a clever lad, and I know he’ll do well, but I still fear for the lot of them and I miss their merry ways.”

I gripped his hand a bit tighter here, then rose to standing, for I saw with a start that the sun slanted low, and I ought to discover the Tamworths’ location. I pulled Robin up with me and tugged him along toward the Denby town square, explaining as we went, in the shortest words I could find, how things stood for me as Mary Cox and how I resided in Thetbury village. We agreed hastily that Robin should play the part of a suitor come from Belton village, newly arrived to claim my hand. This suited me, for I hoped to keep my own name a secret from Uncle John if I possibly could, thinking the truth would give him more pain than pleasure. To Meg I would tell a fuller tale.

And so we met up with my country family, and I introduced them to Nicholas Atwood, the beau of my youth, whom I’d met with by chance at the archery range. Matthew perked up at Robin’s face and told in a rush how Walter the Miller had groped me on the barrels and how I’d been rescued by this archer. Robin then showed them the prize he’d won, a gold-beaten arrow of fine quality, and between that tale and his own charming manner he soon had the family near doting upon him.

When he explained that he wished to wed me, now that he had found me out, he became a favorite with lovely Meg, who had long dreamt of romance for me, and also with John, who wished, perhaps, for one fewer mouth to feed. Robin said he would escort us to Thetbury and would spend the night in the one-room inn, that he might collect me in the morning and take me off to Belton village. ’Twas his dearest hope, he said with a wink, that we might be wed without delay.

How quickly my fortunes seem to change when Robin Hood’s wrapped up in them! As we walked homeward I thought it through and began to feel as the eagle does when she catches a gust of bright spring wind and soars to the stars without ever needing to flap her wings. I soared high too in my happiness, and by the time I reached my straw bed that night I was so far above earth, I could scarcely close my eyes—the view from above was too enchanting to miss.

Chapter Twenty-one

T
HE
T
AMWORTHS WERE STARTLED
by the swiftness of my decision to go, and Janey wept a bit over breakfast, sad to lose her youthful companion. I found a moment to whisper to Meg that Robin was my own true love, come from Lott’s End, that he knew my rightful name and my wretched tale. This delighted her better than I had hoped, and she kissed me as if I were kin of her own.

It took me no longer than a minute or two to pack up my things into a bundle, and I left with Meg half the pennies I had brought with me, for living with them I’d never had cause to spend even one. When Robin arrived, Uncle John seemed taken with a fit of protectiveness, repeatedly asking if we oughtn’t be wed before I went traveling with a young man. But Robin went on about his family in Belton and how his mother awaited me, as he’d sent her word, and that all would be well after a half-day’s journey. Meg, now a convert to our secret romance, aided our cause by claiming to have known the Atwoods in Belton village. She blathered to John of their respectability until he felt compelled to let us depart.

Robin was well versed in the taxes and tallages of village folk, and so he was firm in refusing to go until Uncle John had accepted his payment of the marchet money, for the family would owe this coin when it was known that I had wed. For all his gruff excuses to the contrary, I saw that Uncle John was pleased to take it, and he gripped Robin’s hand with something akin to companionship when the money was paid.

I kissed them all with true affection and bid good-bye to that cramped house which had kept me warm through the lifeless winter. For a moment I thought on Annie’s home and the disgust I’d felt toward our night there. Now, strangely, I had lived in a matching cottage and thought it the purest place on earth, where hard work brought bread and sleep was peaceful, for each person’s body was worn from the labors of day.

Robin and I had formed no design beyond that of walking the road together, as we had once done so long before. And when at last we walked out of Thetbury and began our new journey, I was seized with a giddiness I found hard to explain. There was a vivacity in the air that morning that entered my lungs and filled my whole being, a quickening that came to my blackbird’s heart and made me feel joy in every step. And each time I glanced in his direction, Robin was smiling, and I smiled too from my own delight.

“I suppose I must learn to call you Robert,” I said, half joking, as we passed the Thetbury fields.

“I’ve never taken well to that name,” he said. “Wouldn’t Rob do just as well?”

“Rob will do, I suppose, just as well as Nicholas, Brian, and Robin Hood. How can you have feelings for any name when you’ve taken up so many?”

“What, this from the mouth of Mary Cox? Do you realize, Marian, with what ease a lie rolls from your tongue these days? When I first met you I don’t believe you thought you could take on a tale if you had to, and look at you now, crafting up falsehoods from this side and that!”

“I must admit, ’tis easier than I ever thought it was. Do you remember when we left Warwick Castle and stopped at that inn in the rainstorm? And you made me run to the kitchen women and tell them some tale for a suit of clothes? I thought I would shrivel at the very thought.”

“I worried for you more than a little after you’d left, but when you came back in your new dress and boots, I knew I’d found the woman for me. Especially after catching a glance at you in naught but your shift—what a sight!”

I struck at him playfully with the bundle I carried.

“Speaking of love and lovers,” he said, “what do you think our Clym is doing but hanging round Wodesley village, speaking sweet words into Annie’s ear.”

“Clym?” I said, in a harsher tone than I’d expected. “Clym is wooing Annie?”

“What, are you surprised?” he asked. “Did you not see them sitting together in Sherwood? Or have you some bias against a red cap?”

This was meant as a joke, since he now wore a red felt hat much like Clym’s, but I was in no humor for laughing. Strange emotions brewed in my heart, and I scarcely knew what words I spoke, so confounded was I in attempting to single one out from the other.

“I never thought her partial to him, that’s all. Do you think she returns his affection?”

Robin shrugged and looked at me with a twinkle in his eye that said that while he did not know, aye or nay, he would not have been surprised to hear it. This news disturbed me more than I can say, and I was ashamed to admit that, thinking back, I had no memory of Annie and Clym consorting beneath our Greenwood tree. I, it seemed, had been too occupied with my own budding love to be aware of any other.

My companion had noticed my distress, and since I did not wish to be closely examined on this point, I hastened to introduce a new subject. A sensation deep within my belly hinted that my reaction to his news might not be a fully noble one, and so I sought to hide it away.

“Tell me, Robin, have you heard nothing more of King Richard and how he does in the prisons of Germany?”

“Only that he’s written some songs and poems from his cell, describing his lot and charging his subjects to keep brave hearts, for he swears he’ll be with us soon. But in my travels these past months I’ve heard a mix of reports. Some say we’ll be charged one hundred gold pieces for his life, and what we cannot raise in funds must be given in noble hostages.”

“Hostages! Hmm, that will be a tricky thing. And what of Prince John? Now that you have routed his men, has he changed his tune about joining with Philip Augustus of France?”

“I think not. Those men were, of course, but a part of his force. Knowing John, he has others hidden off somewhere. The last I heard, he was sailing for Normandy to see the queen, to try to win her back to his side, now that Richard lies in prison. It seems a fool’s errand to me—she’ll only be made more angry by it.”

“Well, Prince John has never been quite as clever at playing to his own mother as he seems to be with the rest of the world.”

This discussion took us several miles, but as we neared the edges of Denby, I thought to ask Robin where we were headed, for he seemed to angle his feet forward with purpose.

“I have only one thought in my head, Marian, and that is to wed you before you find fault with me a second time and see fit to flee to the ends of the earth. I had thought we might ask Friar Tuck to do it, since he is returned to his former post at Fountain Abbey, a shrine to the Virgin not far from here.”

“And after that?”

“After that I have no ideas. What think you, Mistress Lucy?”

I beamed and nodded my head, “Yes, I think I have a plan.”

“I thought you might,” he said with a chuckle.

“And why is that?” I asked, twisting my face in mock surprise.

“You always have some scheme in your pocket, haven’t you? I don’t believe I’ve ever known you to be without a plotted course. I’ll never forget, I tell you truly, how you sought me out in Sherwood Forest—wily fox, indeed.”

“I have not always had a plan in mind,” I admitted shyly. “At times I’ve felt quite incapable of deciding on what course to take. But you make me feel brave, bold yeoman that you are, and so I have concocted a wild scheme.”

“Those, without question, are my very favorite, so please tell it, Lady Marian.”

“It has but one flaw that I can see, and that is that we shall be forced to part for a time again. But ’twill be brief and will have an end, and if Clym can be persuaded to pass messages along it need not be such a sorrowful time.”

“So long as we may be married first, so I know you shall have no chance of escape, I will agree to whatever you plot for me.”

“Well, Robin, if you shall always be so agreeable,” I laughed, “I think you will make a most suitable husband. Very well, this is my thought. While I lived in Thetbury I had a chance to observe Sir Thomas pass through the village with a lady companion, which lady was our own Lady Pernelle of Sencaster.” I glanced at him to see that he recalled her by name and, seeing that all was blindingly clear, I continued. “She and Sir Thomas seemed most intimate, and I feel certain that they have become far more than cousins, that in fact they are lovers. And if that’s the case, then our fight with Sir Thomas for Denby is, at heart, a fight with Lady Pernelle. I’m convinced that she backs him, and that it was for him that Hugh was murdered.”

“Murdered! You never mentioned that before.”

I explained then how my mind had retossed the details of Hugh’s death and had come to a new arrangement of facts and motives.

“’Twas all too strange at the time to have been a case of simple death. The reports were far too varied for that. Nay, I believe Lady Pernelle was behind it all, and chilling as that notion is, it fits with her later actions. Recall how she struggled to keep Denby from me after Hugh died and how furious she was to lose it? And then that she would maneuver to wed me to Stephen—well, that seems to clinch it all. She thirsts for the exclusive ownership of Sencaster and Denby-upon-Trent.”

“But why place all this energy on Denby? You said yourself that it’s no special province.”

“Nay, but Robin, ’tis not so easy to gain a region! Most are ruled by powerful barons with armies both here and across the channel. Denby is sought because it is not guarded. My youth and ignorance left it open to one such as Thomas Lanois, and now that he’s got his toe into it, it shall be far harder for us to draw back.”

“So how do you propose we do it?”

I paused a moment and ceased walking, for I wished to be sure we were not overheard. “We must get close to these two plotters, Lady Pernelle and Sir Thomas, to learn all we can about their means and motives. I propose that we go to their courts, I to Sencaster and you to Denby, to work our way into the household and gain what we can of the noble’s ear. When we know them better, we’ll be able to find the weakness in their hold over Denby and can plan our moment to snatch it back.”

Robin was quiet as he considered this, and we walked a full half mile before he spoke again. But when he did, he was amenable.

“Your plan seems to have some merit, but I fear for you in going to Sencaster. Lady Pernelle knows your face, does she not? Won’t she recognize you as Marian Fitzwater and catch you up at once?”

I nodded slightly, for I’d also thought of these things. “She may feel that she’s seen me somewhere before, but I do not think she’ll place me correctly. Lady Pernelle sets a great store on the trappings one wears, on fine gems and velvets. I do not believe it would occur to her to look at the face of one in homespun and match it in memory to one who wore silk. I shall alter my hair somewhat, or go with it beneath a kerchief, and that must muddle her mental picture. And, remember, I shall speak Saxon.” I saw that he was not satisfied, so I laid a hand across his arm. “And too, Robin, thanks to you, if I am found out, it shall be no great loss. She won’t be able to wed me to Stephen, for you and I shall be already wed, and if she brings me before the queen, well, ’tis no matter. I shall only be released.”

This persuaded him a bit more, and the longer we walked, the more pleased he became. I noticed that he seemed unconcerned for his own fate, which amused me, for he would be in far more danger than I. But I supposed he counted on his own knack for living in disguise as well as the fact that none in Denby should know that knave, Robin Hood.

I
SHOULD PERHAPS PAUSE
here to say that I felt at this time that more stars twinkled above my head than I had ever dreamed possible. Since I was a child, I never had visions of a happy marriage, never fantasized my wedding gown, or foresaw the smiling groom beside me. For I had already paced that aisle and knew, even in my child’s heart, that marriage nine times out of ten is little more than a contract made with an unknown man of title and silver.

And yet, for all my scoffs and doubts, here I stood beside a man who meant far more than love to me. He was my friend, my counselor, my encouragement. In a crowd his eye sought me out—me alone!—and he seemed to gravitate to my side. We spoke as equals, laughed as one, and yet were different as night and day. These things, as I pondered them, made me amazed and filled my eyes with silent tears, overcome as I was by my own good fortune.