Orphan of Destiny (18 page)

Little John was suddenly consumed with a coughing fit, which sounded an awful lot like muffled laughter behind his giant fist. Robard gazed up at me in wonderment, hoping for some kind of explanation.

“Don’t look at me,” I said as I helped him to his feet. “Grew up in a monastery, remember?”

Robard shrugged and tried to stretch his aching back. He had a serious look on his face, but was clearly happy to be home.

“Mr. John Little,” Robard said, putting out his hand, “I owe you an apology. You stood by us, and came to my aid in Nottingham when I did nothing to deserve it. Tristan, as usual, was right about you.”

Little John took Robard’s hand with no hesitation. “No harm, lad. What happened on that old bridge is behind us as far as I’m concerned. But now you’re safe home, and I’d best be moving on.”

“About that,” Robard interrupted. “You’re welcome to stay if you like. As you can see, there’s work needs to be done here. A man with a steady hand could find plenty to do. Tristan and Maryam and I will be leaving for a short while, and I’d like someone to keep an eye on things. Will’s a good man, but he belongs in the fields and forest. There’s no pay, but you’ll have food and a roof over your head, if you’re willing. Whenever there’s real money to be had, I give you my word you’ll be treated fairly.”

Little John didn’t need to take long to consider Robard’s offer. “Best offer I’ve had in a while.” They shook hands. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to begin. I think I’ll have a look at your forge in the barn. Tristan, I expect after what happened in town, you and Robard here have a lot to talk about. So maybe you can tell Tuck to come with me, and we’ll take stock and see what needs to be done before the Shire Reeve shows up.”

There wasn’t much daylight left, but I took Tuck’s hand and pointed to Little John and the distant barn, and he immediately understood. He took Charlemagne by the reins and followed obediently.

“He’s right,” I said, glancing after them. “We have to get ready, Robard. The Shire Reeve will be coming after us. He won’t allow what we did to go unpunished. And I’m sure he’ll send word to the court of Prince John asking for funds to raise more bailiffs. He’ll offer a reward for the both of us. And if news of our exploits reaches the court, you know it will be whispered into Sir Hugh’s ear.”

I felt guilty. Remembering what Sir Hugh had done to St. Alban’s, even before he knew I had the Grail, made me shudder. The thought of his bringing vengeance down on Robard and his family was more than I could bear.

“It might be best if I left,” I said. “If I head out on my own and make myself visible, make a trail for Sir Hugh to follow, he might not come here. It would still leave you to handle the Shire Reeve. Maybe it might be better for everyone if you took your mother and found a place to hide in the forest.”

Robard stared at me, disgusted.

“Are you mad? First, I will never give up Hode land without a fight. Second, you wouldn’t last a day trying to make your way out of here to the north through Scotland alone. Now listen to me, for this is the last time I’m going to say it. I made a promise to you, swearing to be with you to the end. Nothing has changed. Not some Shire Reeve or Sir Hugh or anything else will come between us and finishing our job. Are we clear?”

My eyes nearly watered, but I nodded.

“Good. It’s settled. Come with me, there’s something I want to show you,” he said. “But first, I also want to apologize for what happened in the barn this morning. It’s just . . . I knew you’d talk me out of it, and I was so blind with anger, I couldn’t let you. It was all I could think to do. I hope you’ll forgive me,” he said, holding out his hand. I shook it, assuring him I did.

We strolled up the steps of the porch and entered the house. Inside the door was a series of pegs made from deer antlers where Robard hung up his bow and wallet. I removed my swords and followed him into the main room where I’d slept the night before. At the far end stood a fireplace, and above it a large sword rested on two wooden pegs.

Robard pulled the sword down and handed it to me. It was old—I could tell by the worn leather of the hilt and the marks and nicks upon the steel. But the edge was still sharp, and I felt the heft of it in my hand. It was not as large as Sir Thomas’ battle sword, but it had once been a fine weapon.

“This sword belonged to my grandfather’s grandfather,” Robard said. “He carried it at Hastings when Harold took on Willy Bastard. It was luck and treachery that brought victory to the Norman swine that day.”

“It’s beautiful,” I said. Robard took it back from me.

“Yes it is, and it has hung here since he returned more than one hundred years ago. We Hodes have always answered the call of King and Country even when the king is a wretch, like the Lionheart.” Robard spat in the fireplace at the mention of Richard. “My family has lived on this very spot for hundreds of years. My ancestors pushed back Viking raiders and we fought willingly with the Saxon kings. But William changed everything. Still he won the fight and called himself King, and we Hodes swore our allegiance and continued to support the crown. My father used to say there wasn’t a Norman king worth half a crosslet until King Henry II. Yet we did our duty. Father said, ‘You fight for the throne, not always the man who sits on it.’ And when we couldn’t pay the taxes the crown asked of us, we made an agreement and honored it. I served and gave the Lionheart two years of my life for forgiveness of my father’s debt.”

“I’m not sure I understand your point, Robard,” I said.

“My point is this: I rode into Nottingham aflame, ready to strike down William Wendenal for what he’d done to my father. Like I usually do, I went straight at him full of anger and not thinking. His bailiffs clubbed me down and threw me in his jail with the rest of my countrymen and he took joy in quoting the law to me. It was taxes this and levies that and those of us in those cells were nothing but ignorant peasants who weren’t entitled to anything but what the crown grants us, if that.” He held the sword up so I could see it clearly.

“William Wendenal will come for me in force, and I’ll beat him back, make him wish he’d never heard the name Hode. But my defeating him won’t solve a thing. While I sat there in the jail cell, I realized the law is on his side. No matter what I say or do, it’s what’s written down that matters. And I can’t fight it, because I don’t even know what I’m fighting. You have to understand your enemy before you can defeat him, and my enemy is not the Shire Reeve of Nottingham, it’s the laws he represents.”

“I understand, Robard, but what can you do?” I asked.

“I need to know what it is I’m fighting, Tristan. For the many years we Hodes have lived here, we’ve done right by the land and our people. We took a fair piece of each man’s harvest who worked our hides, our plots of land. In return they received our protection. In hard times and bad harvests everyone took less to get by. Justice was decided based on what was fair and true, and every man had a chance to speak his piece before his peers, no matter what he might be accused of. Before I left for war, there were more than thirty families working Hode land, and my father and his father before him never made a decision without thinking what was right for our folk. It was our way, but it’s gone. Now we sit at the mercy of some king and his Shire Reeves who do nothing but throw words at us. Words we cannot understand.” He knelt and poked at the logs in the fire, stirring the coals so the flames caught again.

“Robard, what is it you seek? How can I help?” I asked.

When he stood, his expression was as serious as I’ve ever seen it.

“My father is gone, Tristan. I’m the thane now, and I’ll lose our lands for sure if I can’t learn these laws and throw their own words back at them. I’ll fight for my land and my people, and I’ll die for them if I must and not think twice, but if there’s one thing the Lionheart taught me, it is that if you’re going to fight, fight smart.”

He put his hands on his hips and stared at the flames a few minutes.

“I don’t ask this lightly, Tristan, and I’ll thank you not to laugh at my request,” he said.

“Of course not, Robard,” I said.

It took him a moment as several emotions crawled across his face. Pride, anger, frustration and embarrassment, but finally determination.

“Tristan, I want you to teach me to read.”

24

T
he night had warmed somewhat from the colder weather earlier in the day. We sat around the large cook fire and enjoyed Mistress Hode’s supper. It was meager food, with very little meat, but she did make a hearty venison stew and had baked fresh bread in anticipation of our return. Once she was over her anger about Robard’s rash adventure, her spirits returned. While she sat by the fire eating, with Maryam at her side, Mistress Hode regaled us all with funny stories of Robard as a child.

“When he was just a wee lad, couldn’t have been more than four, his father made him a small bow and cut the points off some arrows for him to practice with. He loved it. He marched around the fields shooting at any target he could find. One morning he decided to go out to the pasture behind the barn to hunt. Master Hode had raised a bull from a calf, he called him Henry after the king, and as far as Henry was concerned, none of us Hodes were welcome in his field. What made it worse was Robard decidin’ he wanted to hunt old Henry. He didn’t know them arrows weren’t going to stick in that tough hide and all they would do is make him angry.” She started to chuckle and Robard’s face reddened.

“Mother, please—” he pleaded. But everyone shushed him.

“The next thing you hear is Robin boy hollerin’ as loud as he could. ’Twas near on dinnertime his father and I stood right here in this very spot and look up to see him running as fast as his tiny legs would carry him. It had rained the night before and Robard runs straight for the corral fence with Ol’ Henry not more’n a few steps behind. He dives headfirst through the fence and lands facedown in the mud. Covered him from head to toe, it did!” She laughed and we laughed with her, and even Robard joined in.

Before the meal, Little John, Maryam and Robard and I had discussed what to do about the Shire Reeve. We all agreed he would be coming soon, and we needed to make ready.

“When do you think he’ll make his move?” Little John asked.

“As soon as he can gather his bailiffs and equip them. I would feel better if I knew how many men he had available,” I said.

After more discussion, Robard set Will and a few of the men to guard the gate for the night. It was unlikely the Shire Reeve would be here immediately. He would have to gather warrants and organize his posse. And we didn’t think he’d risk a night assault, not with every man in Sherwood carrying a longbow.

Robard’s entreaty that I teach him to read had humbled me. His concern was genuine, and it was a hard thing for him to ask. I promised to have him reading in no time and in truth believed he would be a quick study. In fact I had already given him his first lesson, scratching out his name in the dirt of the courtyard, showing him the letters and the sounds they made. Later in the evening I spotted him clandestinely practicing beside the fire while he enjoyed the company of his people, scratching away at the dirt with an arrow while the conversation went on around him.

When the meal was over, the talk continued, and I took leave to walk around the grounds and stretch my legs. Little John followed me.

“Something on your mind, lad?” he asked.

“Yes. And his name is William Wendenal. He will be here shortly, and in force. Robard and I locked him in his own jail and freed all of his prisoners. He can’t let such a thing pass unanswered.”

“For certain he will not,” Little John agreed, glancing back at the happy revelers around the fire. “It’s probably right and proper to let them enjoy their evening, but tomorrow we’d best prepare for a fight.”

Yet another plan, I thought. When and if I ever delivered the Grail to Rosslyn, I hoped to move to a country where plans were never required.

“John, you served in the army. What do you see here? What advantages do we have over this Shire Reeve?” I asked.

He was quiet for a moment, thinking. “We’ve got at least twelve good men: Will and his bunch plus what hands were left here helping Mistress Hode. They all know the longbow; it’s second nature to them. It keeps a man on horseback at a distance. I can make more points on the forge and anvil in the barn, so we’re in good shape there. But if the reeve and his men get in close, if we must fight hand to hand, it won’t go as well. We’ll be outnumbered and no match for their swords and axes. Not to mention they’ll probably have crossbows as well.”

I nodded. The crossbows didn’t bother me as much. They couldn’t be spanned on horseback, and in a pitched battle, men with longbows could fire nearly twenty times for every shot from a crossbowman. What I worried over most were Will and his “Merry Men.” Roaming the forest as bandits and preying on unsuspecting victims was one thing, but taking on trained, equipped and mounted fighters was another. For a moment I felt just as I had on the walls of Montségur, wishing I had Sir Thomas and a regimento of Templars at my side.

Then an image came to me. I remembered yesterday as we had ridden hard through Sherwood for Robard’s home. We had stopped at the spring and Allan Aidale had climbed the tree to retrieve the cache of arrows. Robard, Will, Allan and the others were at home here in the woods. They used the forest for food and shelter and anything else they needed. There was our advantage. We couldn’t stand toe-to-toe with the Shire Reeve in a straight-up fight. But we could certainly use the forest against him.

“What are you thinking?” Little John asked.

“I’m thinking about a hollow tree,” I said. When I told him my plan, he smiled and clapped me on the shoulder.

“Tomorrow, then,” he said as he sauntered off to the barn to sleep. We would need to rise early to implement my plan, and we all needed rest.