Robyn Hood: Fight For Freedom (12 page)

I laughed.
“How could you two be a burden? Very well then, if you wish you can stay with us.”

“Excellent!” Much said, crashing out of the
underbrush. “I always wanted to listen to a harper sing tales about your exploits Robyn!”

“I’m sure there aren’t any ballads about me, Much,” I wryly corrected.

“Of course there are,” Little John said, appearing by Much.

“We heard several when we stayed at
Nottingham Castle,’ Will Scarlet added, popping up at my elbow.

I sighed. I had suspected they were there. Little John and Will Scarlet never were ones to leave me be. “Welcome to
Sherwood Forest Alan-A-Dale and Lady Ellen. If you can stand us then you must have the patience of a saint.”

Alan and Ellen’s arrival marked a change for the Merry Men and I. True to her word Ellen tackled the sewing and washing with a perseverance I envied.
Her arrival took a lot of pressure off Robert and me.

Alan raised my already merry band into even higher spirits. Mealtimes became popular entertainment hours. In the evenings, when we usually sat around the campfire and gossiped like ladies in a castle, we listened to ballad
s sung by Alan, who had the voice of an angel.

In truth, it was Alan and Ellen who inspired the plan I concocted to deal with Marian and her unwanted beau. Actually, perhaps it was not so much inspiration as it was desperation.

Marian did not wait the selected three days for my return. Instead the morning I was getting ready to go meet her, this time with Will Scarlet and Will Stutely, Tom reported Maid Marian riding through the forest, swearing up a storm with laden saddle bags.

Within minutes she was in my camp.

“ROBYN!” she bellowed.

“What is it now Marian?” I asked from my seat by the fire. I was prepared for the fight she was surely bringing me.

“What is it
now
?” Marian hissed, hopping off Nearly Dead. The grey mare sighed and walked herself over to Crafty’s pen. “I’m only worrying my head off in my castle tower, thinking about how I’m doomed but my greatest friend is going to help me and solve everything, when lo and behold I hear some village gossip. Apparently
Robin Hood
is now a
matchmaker
!”

“Marian
, they needed help. Ellen was going to be married that day, your father, on the other hand, hasn’t even accepted Sir Guy yet,” I defended. “Besides, as I reminded you last time we met, you were the one who wanted me to be an outlaw. I’m not your personal hero, Marian, I have other people to think of too.”

Marian stared at me and rapidly blinked. For the first time in years she looked like she was about to cry.

I stammered a little, trying to figure out how to backtrack. The ever eloquent Alan-A-Dale stepped in for me.

“You must be the beautiful Maid Marian,” he smiled, running his fingers over his (fixed) harp in a beautiful river of notes. “The apple of Robin Hood’s eye, his beloved. Or so the songs say, and they hardly know the half of it. What brings you here, Maid Marian, and so angry? Surely you cannot be mad
at your best friend just because she helped my wife and me,” Alan gently said.

Marian miserably shook her head and rubbed her eyes with her fists. “I’m coming to stay Robyn,” she whispered. “Father told me in a week he will accept Sir Guy’s proposal.”

All of the air left my chest and my mind raced. I glanced at Ellen and Alan, Alan’s words still dancing around my head. The apple of my eye, huh? I had already stopped one marriage, why not two?

A wolfish smile swept over my lips. “Marian, you and I will return to
Huntingdon Castle—,”

“Robyn I—,”

“Only to deliver a letter that says you’ve run off to be with the love of your life, Robin Hood of Sherwood Forest. Write to your Father and tell him that you will have no other man besides Robin, and that he will protect you from Sir Guy of Gisborne. Start writing it,” I ordered before turning on my heels. “Alan-A-Dale, I am in need of your help sooner than I thought.”

“How can I be of service, Robyn?” Alan asked with a sweeping bow.

“Let us cement the rumor that Maid Marian is Robin Hood’s true love,” I decided. “Maid Marian may be my best friend, but who says she cannot be Robin Hood’s love? It will protect the both of us.”

“It’s true,” Much nodded. “We’ve been getting lots of womenfolk in Sherwood, looking for the bold and brave Robin Hood.”

“Marian will be free of the ruse when I dump the Robin Hood mask. It will be perfect,” I laughed.

“How can I help you?” Alan inquired.

“Write a ballad. Write several ballads. Make them all about the relationship between Marian and Robin Hood. But it is important, the ballads
must
keep Marian’s chastity, as well as my own,” I shivered. “I will
not
have bawdy songs being sung about us, nor would I ever want any pathetic lie such as that to be passed around.”

“It will work perfectly.
You two are already the talk of the town with that sorrowful parting when Robin saved Little John and Will Scarlet,” Alan shrugged.

Marian blinked. “My ring got stuck on Robyn’s clothes.”

“It makes no difference. Once the ballads are out any interaction between you two, no matter how friendly it really is, will be made into the greatest love scene of all time through people’s imaginations,” Alan said, plucking a few more strings before humming a line.

“What will all of this do, Robyn, except boost your Robin Hood image?” Will Scarlet asked.

“The Sheriff, Sir Guy, perhaps even Prince John, are going to be angry. Very angry. We will draw them here to Sherwood. I will deal with Sir Guy, and we will rob the Sheriff blind,” I grinned.

“I like that plan,” Little John smirked.

“Me too,” Will Scarlet agreed.

Marian only breathed in relief and hugged me. “Thank you Robyn,” she whispered.

Behind us Alan-A-Dale was already singing a few lines.

“A bonny fine maid of a noble degree,

With a hey down down a down down

Maid Marian called by name,

Did live in the North, of excellent worth,

For she was a gallant dame.”

Chapter 7

Sir Guy the Addled

The plan worked perfectly. Almost too perfectly.

Marian, Ellen, and I, all dressed in skirts, swarmed Huntingdon Castle and left the letter on her canopy bed. We also placed a Merry Man in the castle in the guise of a liveryman. He reported the reactions of Marian’s parents and the residents of Huntingdon Castle.

E
veryone was scandalized, believing Marian to be the only female in my company of Merry Men. So I had Alan stroll through Nottingham and Huntingdon, singing a made up ballad about Marian’s arrival at our camp, which also added that Marian had become fast friends with the other female in Sherwood, Ellen, Alan-A-Dale’s wife. (Indeed, the cheeky harper had already written a ballad about his wedding and it was well known.)

Several days later my disguised Merry Man reported that Marian’s father still feared her reputation was ruined. So I had Alan make the rounds through the surrounding towns again, this time with a ballad
in hand that explained that Marian was known as Maid Marian because she and Robin Hood wouldn’t marry until Robin Hood was no longer an outlaw and was pardoned and law abiding.

It worked like a charm.

What I hadn’t counted on was all of these catchy ballads (Alan-A-Dale is an
excellent
rhymer.) enraging Sir Guy, the Sheriff, and even Prince John.

Prince John put a price of 6
0 marks on my head, which was nothing but a speck compared to King Richard’s ransom, but for a man of average wages it was
a lot
.

Whether it was because of the ballads or the price on my head, the Sheriff of Nottingham
(Or more likely, George) and Sir Guy of Gisborne reacted far faster than any of us predicted they would. Two weeks after we dropped off Marian’s letter they were inside Sherwood Forest without our knowledge.

I hadn’t expanded my scouting distance yet because my men and I estimated another few days before the Sheriff would motivate himself to leave the comforts of his castle. Apparently money was a better motivator for the Sheriff than we speculated.

The day started simply enough: breakfast and practice before giving out the daily assignments.

Will Stutely was taking a group of 25 Merry Men with him to canvas the road and look for targets to rob. Much was staying behind to supervise those on guard duty and, surprise, the new trainees that continued to pour into our ranks.

“I think I’ll do an outer scouting pass through the forest before I meet up with you, Will Stutely. Robbing sounds like a fair way to pass the day,” I yawned before gathering up my bow and quiver.

I
needed
to get out of the camp. Marian had terrorized me during fencing practice that morning. I did not want to be around her gloating face for the entire day.

“Sounds good,” Little John agreed.

“Scarlet, are you with us?” I asked, running my fingers over the goose feathered fletching of my arrows.

“No,” Will Scarlet said after a moment or two of cons
ideration. “I believe I shall try to rustle up some game. Do any of you Merry Men wish to join me?” he asked.

I blinked and stared as Lobb, Ryan, and two other Merry Men told my usually constant companion that they would join him.

“Will?” I asked, staring at him, drawing his gaze.

He smiled and stepped closer to me to gently ruffle my hair. “It’s fine Robyn. Enjoy your scouting trip.”

I was troubled, but Little John was waiting, so I brushed off my green hose before leading the way into the forest.

We talked and walked for twenty minutes, laughing as we swapped lines from Alan’s newest ballad, which was about Little John and I and how we met. (Of course Alan didn’t say Much had pushed me into fighting Little John, he played it off as my own daring desire.)

“I can’t believe he included the part about Will Stutely christening you,” I laughed.

“It’s a necessary part,” Little John insisted. “Most of those who see me laugh on sight about my name unless they are forewarned.”

“Well, it was quite funny,” I admitted.

“Shhh,” Little John said, stopping.

“What?” I whispered.

Little John pointed off to the side and tilted his head. Together we listened to the forest. Someone was walking through our woods.

Little John and I skulked over to the intruder on quiet, sure feet. Little John boosted me up a tree where I spied on the interloper. I nearly fell off the tree due to recoil and disgust when I caught sight of the idiotic fop that had wandered into my forest.

For some reason that I would never be able to
fathom, a man had wandered into Sherwood dress in a
horse pelt
. No joke, the skin still had the black mane and tail, which dragged on the ground behind him. The horse’s “head” dropped down over the man’s skull, perfectly hiding his face.

I slid down the tree and landed next to Little John with a muffled thump.

“Well?” Little John whispered.

“If Crafty was within call I would summon him to kick that intruder’s legs until they were broken. The idiot is wandering around in a horse pelt.”

Little John winced. The horse pelt thing was a strange case, but it was well known through out my band that I had finally inherited Marian’s love of horses after my adventures with Crafty in Nottingham Castle. The silly wanderer most likely didn’t know he was making a somewhat dangerous, if not begrudging, enemy.

“Let’s take him out,” Little John prompted.

“Are you kidding? I’m not getting any closer to that freak,” I hissed.

Little John frowned. “Come on, there is something entirely suspicious about wandering around in a horse pelt.”

“No, no I refuse to go near such a barbarian,” I stubbornly shook my head.

“Robyn, come on. You’re Robin Hood. That whacker is an intruder in
your
forest. You have to go fight him,” Little John insisted.

“No, I don’t,” I hissed. “I’m going to continue with our patrol, looking for the fat Sheriff
and George.”

“Fine!” Little John said, turning to go back the way we had come from.

“Where are you going?” I hissed after him.

“To find Will Scarlet and go hunting. I can see there’s no talking to you whenever it’s
that
time for you,” Little John said before stamping off.

“It is NOT
that
time for me!” I yowled before turning on my tail and stomping off. Unfortunately my not so hushed fight with Little John called the horse pelt wearing weirdo right to me. I didn’t know it yet, but this mentally disturbed individual was Sir Guy of Gisborne, who was combing the woods in hopes of finding and killing Robin Hood in order to free Maid Marian and claim the reward.

“Hello there,” Sir Guy greeted.

I worked hard to keep my features schooled in order to not show my fright or repulse. “Greetings… stranger,” I stiffly said. “Can I help you?”

“I am trying to find my way around the woods,” Sir Guy confessed in his rumbling voice.

“I know the woods quite well, sir. Is there some way I can assist you?” I asked.

“I am seeking Robin Hood. He has stolen a great prize from me,” Sir Guy said.

Instantly it clicked. Only Sir Guy of Gisborne, the broke, cunning, and newly revealed to be incredibly strange, knight would be wandering around Sherwood Forest, alone, looking for me due to recent events. I winced, wondering how Marian would like being referred to as a prize. “It is not wise to seek Robin Hood, sir. Especially in his forest,” I honestly said. My Merry Men were only a horn blow away after all, I could have as much false bravado as I wanted.

Sir Guy tilted his head, making one of the horse’s ears flick. I wanted to punch him in the face at that exact moment, but Sir Guy continued to speak. “I see you carry a bow. In the spirit of Sherwood would you like try your hand at a contest?” he asked, holding up his own bow.

I wearily sighed, were all men, not just my own Merry Men, obsessed with competitions and contests?

“I would rather not,” I said, trying to squirm out of it. No use practically
announcing
to Sir Guy who I was.

“Come now,” Sir Guy laughed.
“What would Robin Hood say if he heard you?”

“He’d agree with me,” I muttered, but all the same I strung my bow and
tested the string’s tightness. “Please go first stranger. What shall our mark be?” I pleasantly asked.

“How about that forked tree?” Sir Guy suggested.

I squinted, looking off through the forest. “That one that was struck by lightning?” I asked. That tree was in my range, just barely though.

“No,” Sir Guy said, sounding horrified underneath his horse hood. “The large one, right there,” Sir Guy said, motioning to a tree that was probably in the middle of my range.

“Oh, sure. What are we aiming for on it. The seam of the left branch?” I suggested.

“Fine,” Sir Guy agreed, notching his arrow. He released it,
and it hit the tree with a thump. It was a decent hit, certainly not the seam of the branch, but it was several hand widths away. “Your turn, green stranger,” Sir Guy said.

“Right,” I said, notching my arrow, moving into the cor
rect stance, and drawing with practiced fluidity. I released the arrow, which flew straight and true, hitting the seam of the branch.

“Nicely shot stranger! Why, you must be as good as Robin Hood,” Sir Guy praised.

“Almost,” I agreed. No one was as good as my legendary self, not even me. The minstrels and storytellers had blown up my archery talent to be that of a Greek hero’s.

“Has Robin Hood recruited you for his band of outlaws?” Sir Guy asked.

“You could say that,” I shrugged. There was absolutely no use in lying to Sir Guy. I was going to call my Merry Men to beat him anyway. I needed him defeated in order to return Marian to Huntingdon Castle. And believe me, after enduring her constant presence for two weeks I was ready to see her leave. If she wasn’t rallying my men to perform a stupid deed for me, she was encouraging them to commit insubordination and find helpless tanners, knights, and butchers for me to fight.

“Then let us put aside our bows for a more gallant weapon,” Sir Guy decided, tossing his bow aside.

“What?” I stupidly asked.

“Draw
your blade… Robin Hood!” Sir Guy shouted before dashing at me, unsheathing his sword.

Thankfully I hadn’t yet removed my sword from my side due to fear of Marian randomly popping out and bashing me over the head again.
My muscles reacted on pure instinct, and I ripped my sword out of my scabbard, barely lifting it in time to block a blow to my head.

“I knew it had to be you. Only you could wander through the King’s forest with such arrogance,” Sir Guy triumphantly said.

I snorted. Just yesterday Much had accused me of slinking through the woods like a kicked dog. My snicker was cut short when Sir Guy leaned down on his blade, increasing the force I was holding back. My arms shook and I realized I would have to conserve as much energy as possible and blow my horn the second I got the chance. If I was lucky maybe Little John would return.

Sir Guy drew back for a second to regroup before lunging at me. His blows were easy enough to deflect. The trick was to stay just far enough out of range so I would
get the weakest part of the strike.

We continued on this path for ten minutes. Sir Guy viciously attacked and I defended, never able to release one of my hands from my sword in order to blow my horn.

I was considering dropping the sword and running to climb a tree when Sir Guy paused, panting. “You are fair with the sword,” he praised.

I stared at the man as if he were crazed. By this point Will Scarlet would have thumped me several times for leaving holes in my defense.
“Thanks?” I said between taking in gulps of air. I warily slipped my left hand off my sword and felt for my horn.

“Truly, you are a worthy opponent. But I need Marian’s wealth, and I cannot allow to continue your general disregard for the rules, and disloyalty to Prince John,” Sir Guy said, taking a step towards me. “I’m going to have to kill you.”

I tugged on my horn. Of
course
the straps holding my horn to my belt had to be tangled and twisted, not allowing me to pull the instrument free. “I’m sorry, but I can’t allow that,” I said, “Not only do I want to live, but I would never allow Marian to be whisked off and married to such an oafish barbarian like you,” I said, pulling harder on my horn.

Sir Guy roared and ran towards me. I took several steps backwards, gliding right under a tree branch. Sir Guy had to hunch down to pass beneath the branch, which gave me the time to side step his thrust. He nearly charged past me, but I pulled my left hand out of the leather horn straps and
instead lifted my arm up, clothes lining the knight.

He choked around my arm, and but I continued to press, pushing my shoulder into the motion. I managed to throw him backwards. He hit the back of his head on the tree branch he had passed under, and fell to the ground with a gurgle.

He landed face down, but I rolled him onto his back after stabbing my sword into the ground. He was senseless. I wasn’t completely sure he was unconscious, but he was gasping and his eyes wouldn’t focus on me. I plucked his sword from his limp grasp and tossed it away before moving to summon a few men with my horn.