Robyn Hood: Fight For Freedom (18 page)

“I am but a humble forester. I, however, know it is wise to treat a man of God kindly,” I groveled and scraped.

“The only one who lives in this forest is Robin Hood and his band of outlaws,” the head abbot laughed.

“Robin Hood and his band of Merry Men,” I automatically corrected. Alan-A-Dale said calling us outlaws was bad for our reputation. Friar Tuck laughed him out of the camp after that proclamation. “Yes, they do live here too… unfortunately,” I growled.

“Do you know him?” the head abbot asked.

“Who?” I hooted, blinking quickly.

“Robin Hood. Looking at your clothes I had initially assumed you might be one of his bandits,” the abbot said, motioning to my lincoln green getup.

When picturing Robin Hood people were
always
looking for someone with broader shoulders and a more muscular build. Someone like Will Scarlet.

“Aherm,” I said, avoiding the abbot’s hooded gaze. “Well… I—,”

“ROBYN!” Little John bellowed like an ox.

“STOP RIGHT THERE!” Will Scarlet shouted after him.

I inquisitively turned around and yelped when I saw Will Scarlet and Little John racing towards me. There were two distant specks further down the road. Much and Will Stutely probably, they never had very good running stamina.

“Sorry,
I must go,” I said, bowing out of the abbots’ company.

“DON’T EVEN THINK ABOUT IT ROBYN!” Will Scarlet shouted. They were gaining on me.

I zipped through the monks, spying freedom further down the road. “Almost, there,” I grunted, pushing past the last monk. I made a flying leap and Little John fair snatched me out of the air.

“Oh no you don’t,” he grunted, yanking me backwards.

I slipped out of his grip and headed for a tree. I threw myself on the lowest branch of a thick oak when Will Scarlet caught me.

“Give it u
p Robyn, I’ve got you,” he grunted. “Ow, stop kicking!”

“No! Let me go
! I don’t want to fight that knight! He’ll
kill
me!” I said, almost in hysterics.

“Marian said she thought you could take him,” Little John piped in, watching me kick Will Scarlet in the chest.

“That means nothing. I could probably beat him in archery, but of course the men I fight
always
get upset whenever I beat them and turn on me with a sword!” I said, pausing before furiously kicking some more. “Let me
go
Will Scarlet, or I swear I’ll hide your favorite sword!”

“No. Get. Down!” Will Scarlet said before latching his arms tight around my waist and picking his legs off the ground.

We dangled in the air for several seconds before the branch snapped and we tumbled to the ground.

“I won’t do it! You can’t make me!” I said, my voice edging into a wail.

“Yeah right,” Will Scarlet grunted, sitting up off the ground.

“I can’t
do it! I’m… busy!”

“With what?” Little John asked, latching a hand around my wrist before he pulled me up into a standing position.

“These monks. I have offered them the hospitality of Sherwood Forest!” I gallantly beamed, spreading my legs and planting my fists on my sides in a reasonable impression of my dashing and bold Robin Hood persona.

“…So
you
are Robin Hood,” the head abbot said after staring at me for a while.

“Sorry to disappoint you,” I snapped, hearing the distinct frown in his voice.

Will Scarlet smacked me upside the head. “That is
not
the way to talk to an abbot.”

I frowned and smashed my
elbow into his abdomen. He went down with a gurgle.

“Bloody hell!”
Will groaned.

“You shouldn’t swear in front of abbots either!” I pointed out.

“See, that was cheating. You hurt him
before
he swore,” Little John calmly coached.

By this time Will Stutely and Much had stumbled far enough down the road to catch up.

“Robyn, no good,” Much panted.

“Knight
, left,” Will Stutely heaved.

“Really? What happened?” I asked, straightening up.

“Marian,” Much wheezed.

“Oh. Well
, all is well that ends well,” I said, yanking my hand out of Little John’s grip. “Dear abbots, allow me to introduce myself,” I said, taking several steps away from my men before fixing my dashing smile on my lips. Gone was the whiny, cowardly Robyn. “I am Robin Hood, and welcome to Sherwood Forest, my humble abode,” I said with a flashy bow I learned from watching George at Nottingham castle. “These are some of my Merry Men. This giant here is Little John, my second in command,” I said, pointing to Little John as Will Scarlet walked up to me and tossed an arm over my shoulder.

Little John nodded at the abbots and rested his cudgel on his shoulder.

“Over there is Much and Will Stutely, my childhood friends and first and second Merry Men.”

“Greetings
,” Much breathed, finally able to stand upright.

“Why do we always have to be introduced together in a single sentence?” Will Stutely complained.

“And this man,” I said, indicating to Will Scarlet, who still had his arm on my shoulder. “Is Will Scarlet, my…second-second in command?” I wondered. I was always hesitant when introducing Will Scarlet. I didn’t really know how to describe his place in the band.

“Almost,” Will Scarlet said, winking at the abbots. “More like this,” he said before kissing my cheek.

“Would you get OFF me?” I said, pushing him away before scrubbing at my cheek with the back of my right hand, giving Scarlet a withering glare.

I turned back to the monks and pleasantly smiled.
“Men, it would bring me great pleasure if you would dine with us for lunch. The good Friar Tuck will be there, I am sure he would enjoy speaking to you about… Godly things,” I said, flourishing with my hand.

The abbots were quiet for a moment. “It would be our honor,” the head monk decided.

“Excellent. One moment please,” I said, clapping my hands before turning to my men. “Did Crafty happen to follow you?”

“No. Thankfully,” Much said, glaring at the new hole in his green tunic.

“Why?” Will Stutely asked.

“I don’t want to have to track him through the forest for the whole day again,” I sighed before bringing my horn to my lips. I blew three times before returning it to my side. “I’ll dispatch two men to herd him back to camp.”

“Excellent plan,” Will Stutely piped in. “I’m very grateful you aren’t sending us after him.”

“I have
worse things planned for you,” I said before turning to the monks. “You’ll have to give me a minute or two. There are tasks and missions that must be given out. As soon as my men arrive and I break down the day we will be free to return to camp.”

“Do all of your men come to your horn?” a monk inquired.

“No. That would bring about utter chaos,” I laughed in the manliest voice I could muster.

“We rotate duties,” Much told the monks. “
Every day the men are divided up. Some are assigned guard duties, others go to the road for… uh… robbing, and many stay behind in the morning to train, hunt, and maintain our camp grounds. Every day a group of Merry Men are assigned to come to Robyn’s call on the horn. Unless he blows three times, and then three times again some time later. Then we all come as quickly as possible,” he finished.

“And here they are,”
I said as twenty five Merry Men popped out of the forest, wanting to know what was wrong.

“Are these blackguard abbots
, Robyn?” Lobb shouted.

“Shut your trap and listen,” Ryan hissed.

“Robyn’s about to speak. SHHH,” Gilbert announced.

“Men, these abbots will be enjoying our protection and hospitality for the morning. Remember that,” I shouted. My Merry Men hushed themselves and listened to me. “They will be
eating lunch with us and perhaps enjoy a ballad or two sung by Alan-A-Dale. But before we dine there are several tasks that need to be completed. Ryan, take Lobb and Gilbert and sweep the road. Make sure it’s ready for King Richard, bless his soul, and his wretched procession. Most importantly,
be sure to get rid of the pebbles from yesterday
. That was very fortunate that King Richard’s horse got the pebble rammed in his hoof, but we’ll wait to see if it’s necessary to throw more today if they keep up that incessant trumpeting.”

“Right Robyn!” Ryan
bowed before motioning to Lobb and Gilbert. The three were gone in a flash.

“Rob, I’m sorry, but I need you and David to go get Crafty. You can take a dried apple or two from his barrel. That should put him in better spirits,” I continued.

“Yes Robyn,” Rob winced before disappearing with another Merry Man, David.

“Hob, Tom. I know I already sent out a hunting group this morning, but I did not expect to feed a herd of monks. I need you to go out and bag some more game,” I said, slowly ticking down my mental list of chores.

“You got it,” Hob winked before heading to the woods with Tom.

“Don’t be excessive!” I called after them before turning my attention onto another Merry Man. “Fisk, please run ahead to camp and let everyone know what is g
oing on. I don’t want to enter the camp and find Marian prancing around, brandishing a sword over her head, again.”

“Yes sir!” Fisk, a very eager trainee, saluted before taking off, running through the forest.

“If a group of you could watch the road and keep and eye on King Richard that would be excellent. I don’t want a repeat of that time his procession nearly ran into that traitorous snake of a lord that lives in Prince John’s pocket. We
cannot
have an assassination attempt on our King in our forest. That is all, thank you,” I said before turning to the abbots. “Please, our camp is this way,” I said before leading the way into the forest, Little John and Will Scarlet walking on either side of me.

As I led us through the trees, Merry Man flashing in and out of view as they followed the monks and I, I heard the head abbot mutter, “His men are more at his bidding then mine are at mine.”

We reached the camp after half an hour to an hour of walking. (They may be monks but I am not stupid. I would never lead a stranger to my camp without taking a winding, confusing, impossible to trace path there.)

“Hail, Robin Hood!” several of my men shouted when we entered the camp
, the sign with the golden arrow hanging over the top.

I grinned and called them by name before shaking them off as we pressed further in my abode.

“Do you know the names of all of your men?” an abbot asked.

“Nam
es, their life story, their families too if they’re from the area,” Little John answered for me.

Alan-A-Dale gree
ted us, already plucking a few notes on his harp. “And here comes Bold and Brave Robin Hood,” he smiled.

“Hello Alan. Where are Ellen and Marian?” I asked the minstrel.

“I’m not sure. Last I saw them they were helping Rob coax Crafty into his pen. Friar Tuck is working on a fine fish stew though, and Ellen was roasting deer meat before Crafty arrived. Even better, three Merry Men came back with four bucket loads of berries. We’ll have an outstanding lunch today,” Alan smiled.

“Excellent,” I smiled.

“Let’s eat!” Little John enthusiastically bellowed.

Lunch was a fine affair, as usual. The camp was filled with laughter as my men re-told some severely revised stories about me. The ballad in which Little John and I met was a great favorite, as was the one that dove into the complex ‘relationship’ between Marian and I.

(To assist us in deceiving the monks Marian sat next to me during the dinner, laughing and behaving beautifully while occasionally fawning over me.)

“Alan, tell the story about your wedding again,” Lobb called. “I love picturing Little John in that ridiculously small bishop robe.”

“What of the ballad of Sir Guy of Gisborne,” an abbot called out. “Is that not popular?”

“It is, only because so many
of Nottinghamshire’s peasants love bloody stories,” I sighed. “It wasn’t really that gruesome, all things considered.”

“You mean to tell me you didn’t cut off Sir Guy’s head?” the head abbot inquired.

“No,” I laughed. “That was Alan, speaking symbolically. We figure Sir Guy must have lost his head to tramp around my forest in a horse pelt. No, we actually dumped him off at a monastery in the north. I’m not sure what he’s up to now days.”

“What a
bout the fight with the sheriff?” some men asked.

I winced. “That was a little
bloodier,” I consented. “I didn’t lose any men, but some were badly hurt, I said, my sad eyes turning to Gilbert.”

“I’m fine now,” he huffed from his log across the camp.

“I know,” I shrugged, aware that the atmosphere of the camp was now quite dreary. I abruptly stood up, upsetting Marian and Little John, who were next to me. “Well men, we’ve had a good meal and Alan-A-Dale has entertained us all enough. Now it’s our turn to play. Dear monks, would you like to observe our romping practice?” I asked. I always hated it when I had to talk like the perceived version of Robin Hood. I sounded like a blithering idiot. I mean really, romping practice?