by Peter Bently
I decided to walk around a bit to try and keep myself awake, but I soon turned back. Even just beyond the firelight the forest was so dark I couldn’t see a thing.
I was returning to the others when something flapped past my face.
“Yikes!” I was so startled that I lost my balance and tumbled into some bracken. “Bloomin’ bats!” I muttered.
As I got to my feet, I spotted a gleam of light in the distance. Funny, I didn’t think I’d wandered so far from the fire. But then I saw another gleam – and another, and another! They looked like torches. But whose? Maybe it was a search party! I had to tell the others.
I swung round and soon spotted our campfire. But then I froze. Two hooded figures were creeping into our camp!
I watched as the figures pounced on Patchcoat and Sir Percy. There were only two of them – could we fight them off? I started to run – then someone seized me from behind.
“Not so fast, sonny!” said a gruff voice.
“Eek!” I cried, as strong arms grabbed me firmly round the waist and lifted me off my feet. Before I knew what was happening I was being carried into the firelight like a rolled-up rug.
“Look, Maud,” chortled my captor, whose face was also hidden by a hood. “I’ve caught the little ’un!”
He plonked me down next to Sir Percy and Patchcoat, and waggled the heavy staff he was holding in his other hand. “Any more tricks like that an’ he’ll feel the Walloper on his backside!”
“Steady on, Jack,” said the one he’d called Maud. “We don’t want to terrify the poor lad.”
“What the blazes is going on?” demanded my master. “Release me at once. Do you know who I am?”
“Oh, we know who you are all right,” Maud replied. “You’re that bloke who’s been hunting the Ghost of Grimwood!”
Sir Percy’s furious face switched instantly to his most charming smile.
“Er, who, my dear lady?” he said. “The Ghost? Never heard of him. We are – um – simple travellers, lost in the forest.”
“Travellers, eh?” said Maud. “So you’re not a knight and his sidekicks, sent by the sheriff to catch the Ghost?”
“Good gracious, no!” smarmed Sir Percy. “Not at all! Perish the thought! Whatever gave you that ridiculous idea?”
“Well, for one thing you’re wearing armour,” said the woman. “And for another you left the sheriff’s castle this morning. Ain’t that right, Billy?”
“That’s right,” said a gangly youth. “Jack and me follered them out of town.”
Then I remembered – Billy and Jack must have been the two peasants I’d noticed on the road!
“And we saw them take our secret forest track,” said Jack. “Not even my scary sign put them off. And if that wasn’t bad enough, you tricked me when I tried to show you the way back to the castle.”
“What?” said Sir Percy. “My dear sir, I have never set eyes on you in my life!”
“I was in disguise,” said Jack. “I thought I’d fooled you with that false beard and my story about a man-eating monster.”
“The tree hermit!” I gasped. “That was you!”
“You even pretended to sound terrified,” Jack went on. “So once I’d shown you the quick way out of the forest, I took a shortcut back to my friends here and told them I’d seen you off. But it turns out you’d just ignored me and carried on towards our secret hideout. A clever trick!”
“Secret hideout?” said Sir Percy. “I assure you we had no idea we were anywhere near it!”
Or indeed where we were at all, I thought.
“A likely story,” said Maud. “Later on I went fishing in the stream and spotted your fire. A bit too close to our hideout for comfort. I bet you were planning to sneak up on us when we were asleep. So I hurried off to fetch the others. And here we all are.”
“I take my hat off to you, Sir Knight,” said Jack. “You’re obviously rather cunning. Unlike most of the sheriff’s henchmen, eh, gang?”
The outlaws laughed.
“But my dear fellow, we are not friends of the sheriff’s,” insisted Sir Percy. “If you must know, it was the king who sent us into the forest.”
“The king?” said Maud. “Well, we’re certainly not enemies with him. Good bloke, the king is. All right, let’s suppose you’re being honest. Just tell me one thing. How did you know where to find our hideout?”
“We didn’t,” I chipped in. “We were chased off the path by a bear!”
“Very funny,” said Jack. “Only there ain’t any bears in this part of the forest.”
“And we should know, ’cause we live here,” said Billy.
“But it’s true!” said Patchcoat.
“Nice try, gents,” sighed Maud. “Anyway, now we’ve captured you I’m afraid there’s only one thing to do.”
Eek! My heart skipped a beat.
“M-m-m-m-my dear madam!” jabbered Sir Percy. “N-n-n-now I do hope you’re not planning anything rash!”
“We’re going to take you back to the road,” said Maud. “But only if you promise never to return. And we’ll have to blindfold you. We don’t want anyone sneaking back with the sheriff and his cronies.”
“Oh, we promise, madam!” said Sir Percy with a little giggle of relief. “Knight’s honour! Eh, chaps?”
Patchcoat and I nodded eagerly.
“Phew!” said Sir Percy. “You had me worried there for a moment. I thought you were going to, you know – beat us up. Or worse.”
The outlaws looked shocked.
“What a horrible idea!” exclaimed Billy. “We’d never do such a thing!”
“Last night a peasant was robbed in the forest,” I said. “He was treated a bit roughly. The sheriff blamed the Ghost.”
“That’s not our style at all,” said Maud. “We may be outlaws but we’re not baddies. We would never harm anyone!”
“’Cept p’raps the sheriff!” chuckled Jack. “He’s the villain, not us!”
“That’s right,” said Billy. “We never robs anyone as can’t afford it!”
“And we’re always really polite,” said Maud. “The Ghost insists on it. Speaking of being polite, allow us to introduce ourselves.” She lowered her hood. “I’m Matron Maud, the Ghost’s second-in-command.”
As she stepped forward I saw that she was wearing a sword under her cloak and something told me she wasn’t afraid to use it.
“I’m Lanky Jack,” grinned Jack, pushing back his hood. His bright beady eyes glinted in the firelight as he waved his staff under my nose. “Watch out for the Walloper!”
“I’m Billy Brown, the Boy with the Bow,” said the skinny youth. As he lowered his hood, I was surprised to discover that he wasn’t much older than me. I noticed rather enviously that he was carrying his own bow and arrows.
“And what about the Ghost?” said Sir Percy. “Where is he?”
“Oh, he’s busy tonight,” said Maud. “Let’s just say he has an appointment with one of the sheriff’s pals. A certain abbot with a large collection of gold rings. He’ll be back in the morning.”
“Talking of morning, it’s nearly dawn,” said Jack. “Time to blindfold these gentlemen and take them out of the forest. You first, Sir Knight.”
Sir Percy stood up and allowed Jack to blindfold him. “No peeking!” smiled Jack. He then turned to me. “You next, sonny.”
I suddenly remembered something. “By the way,” I said. “I spotted your torches when you were sneaking up on us earlier.”
“Torches?” said Maud. “What torches? We didn’t have any torches.”
“Well, if they weren’t your torches, whose were they?” I asked.
Out of the darkness came the answer.
“They were ours!” barked a voice. “Stay wight where you are. I have you completely suwwounded!”
The outlaws gasped in horror as into the firelight strode the sheriff with Lurk, and half a dozen soldiers armed with pikes and crossbows.
“Excellent!” declared the sheriff.
“Now I can keep that fat weward! I have captured the Ghost myself!”
“The Ghost isn’t here,” said Billy. “And you’ll never catch him either, so there!”
“Shall I clobber ’im, sir?” said Lurk.
“You’ll have to clobber me first!” said Maud, stepping forward.
“Don’t bother,” sneered the sheriff. “The boy’s attempt to defend his leader is quite pathetic. Not here indeed. Ha! Just wait till the king learns that the Ghost is the vewy same knight who volunteewed to twack him down!”
He stepped up to Sir Percy and whipped off his blindfold.
“You can’t hide behind that widiculous mask any more!” the sheriff cried in triumph. “Sir Percy, you are under awwest!”
“I thought there was something fishy about you fwom the start,” said the sheriff. “And then when I heard you wefuse the king’s offer of troops I knew something was up. I’ll bet you planned to hang about in the fowest for a bit, then go back to the king and pwetend you hadn’t been able to find the Ghost. A cunning plan, Sir Percy. Extwemely cunning. But not cunning enough!”
“Now look here, you’ve got it all wrong, old chap,” said Sir Percy, ignoring the fact that the sheriff had actually got most of it right. “I’m really not the Ghost, you know.”
“Nonsense!” snarled the sheriff. “I decided to miss the king’s boar hunt and do some hunting of my own – for you, Sir Percy! If my hunch was cowwect, you and your two sidekicks would lead me stwaight to your gang. It was easy to find where you’d left the road and entered the fowest. All we did was follow your twacks. We found the spot where you cunningly left the path – but by then the sun had set and we lost your twail in the dark. I admit I was quite close to giving up – until I spotted your fire! We instantly put out our torches and cwept up on you. Heh, heh, heh! Oooh, I am so bwilliant!”
“But Sir Percy’s telling the truth!” said Maud. “He isn’t the real Ghost.”
“Silence!” shrieked the sheriff. “Men, tie these wogues up. We’re taking them back to the castle.”
The sheriff’s men roped us all together in a long line, with Sir Percy in front. I couldn’t see Patchcoat but I guessed he was right at the back. Then they marched us through the forest at a cracking pace. For one thing it was nearly daylight and easier to see where we were going. For another, whenever anyone slowed down, Lurk gave them a painful prod in the posterior with his spear. But the main reason we made such good progress was that the sheriff took us along various hidden tracks and paths.
“He seems to know this bit of Grimwood amazingly well,” whispered Billy behind me.
“No whispewing!” bawled the sheriff, raising his hand to bring us to a halt. “I won’t have you wascals plotting to escape! No speaking from now on, is that clear?”
Lurk cracked his hairy knuckles menacingly. None of us spoke.
“You insolent wuffians!” screeched the sheriff. “How dare you wefuse to answer me?”
Billy cleared his throat. “Um – because you told us not to speak,” he said. The other outlaws tried not to smile.
The sheriff peered at Billy suspiciously. “Humph,” he snorted. “Good. Keep it that way. Now move it!”
We walked on. The sun had risen now and was glinting on Sir Percy’s armour. Maud was behind him, followed by me, Billy and Lanky Jack bringing up the rear. It was then that I realized something.
Where was Patchcoat?
The sheriff’s men marched us through the town gates and into the market square in front of Fleecingham Castle. The market was already under way, and people stopped to point and stare as we passed.
“’Ere, Mum, ain’t that Sir Percy the Proud?” said a peasant girl carrying a big basket of apples.
“Why, I do believe it is, Aggie dear,” said her mum “What’s ’e doin’ all trussed up like a chicken?”
At the mention of Sir Percy’s name people began to cluster around my master. One peasant ran forward with a quill pen and a dog-eared copy of The Song of Percy.
“Can I have yer autograph, Sir Percy?” he asked.
Sir Percy smiled wanly. “My dear fellow, I’d be delighted,” he said. “But I’m afraid I’m rather tied up at the moment.”
“Silence!” snapped the sheriff. “No fwaternizing with the pwisoners!”
“Prisoner?” said the peasant. “Why’s Sir Percy a prisoner?”
“Because he’s a dangewous cwiminal!” said the sheriff. He puffed up his chest and paused for dramatic effect. “He is the Ghost of Gwimwood!”
The stunned crowd stared at my master. The sheriff chuckled smugly and twiddled his moustache. And then someone broke the silence.
“Hooray for the Ghost! ’E’s the friend of the poor!”
Then the whole crowd erupted.
“Good old Sir Percy!”
“We love you, Sir Percy!”
“Our hero!”
“SILENCE!” shrieked the sheriff. “Any more cheewing and I’ll put your taxes up!”
“The king won’t let you!” called a voice at the back of the crowd. Everyone looked to see who had spoken. Standing on a cart was a short peasant. He was wearing a hood pulled down over his eyes so I couldn’t see his face, but I was sure there was something familiar about his voice.
“Insolent peasant!” the sheriff bawled. “Guards, awwest that man!”
Quick as a flash, the peasant jumped down from the cart and disappeared into the crowd.
“I am sure the king will let me do whatever I please when he knows I’ve caught the Ghost!” the sheriff went on. “He’ll be so thwilled he’ll offer me anything I want as a weward. And do you know what I’ll ask for? A nice little bunch of executions. Starting with the Ghost and his gang! Heh, heh, heh!” he laughed madly. “Lurk, fetch His Majesty at once!”
“’E ain’t ’ere, mister,” said the girl with the apples. “’E’s gone out huntin’ again!”
“Too bad,” said the sheriff, though he didn’t look unhappy. “I’ll have to have the executions without him. But while we get evewything weady I know exactly what to do with the pwisoners. Lurk, lock them in the stocks!”
Without further ado we were marched to the side of the square where the town stocks stood. Nothing unusual about that – every town has a set or two for folks who get into trouble with the law. But Fleecingham had about ten sets. And most of them looked new.
The sheriff’s men untied us, and then Lurk clapped us in the stocks one by one.
“Why so many stocks?” I asked when it was my turn.
“Sheriff’s orders,” grunted Lurk, unlocking a padlock with one of a large bunch of keys at his waist. “He likes to make an example of them that won’t pay their taxes. Now stick yer head and hands in there.”
He clapped the stocks over my neck and wrists, padlocked it shut and moved on to Lanky Jack.
“The last sheriff never shut anyone in the stocks,” said Maud, once Lurk had finished. “He said it was humiliating. Good man, Sir Edward was.”
“Really?” I said, surprised. “I thought he was a traitor?”
“No!” said Maud. “Sir Edward was one of the king’s most loyal knights!”
“But what about the letter that showed he was plotting to overthrow the king?” I said.
“Probably a forgery,” said Jack.
I was still puzzled.
“But if Sir Edward was such a good bloke, who would do such a mean thing?”
“We has our suspicions,” said Jack. “Sir Edward’s deputy was an earl. That’s even posher than a knight. We reckon he were jealous and wanted Sir Edward’s job for himself.”
“We reckon the deputy forged the letter,” said Maud. “We can’t prove it but it certainly worked. Once Sir Edward had fled, the deputy got his job.”
I gasped. “So Sir Edward’s deputy was the sheriff!”
“That’s right,” said Jack. “Earl Crawleigh de Creepes himself.”
Just then, the sheriff stepped forward to address the crowd. While Lurk had bee
n locking us up, the sheriff had been ordering his men about. A couple of them had scuttled off into the market and now returned with bowls of eggs and several baskets of rotten vegetables.
“People of Fleecingham, feel fwee to hurl as many mouldy cabbages and wotten eggs as you like at the pwisoners! In the meantime I’ve got to sort out a little bit of chopping, heh, heh!”
With a mad cackle the sheriff stomped off into the castle, leaving Lurk and a few guards to keep an eye on us.
I watched with dread as the crowd moved towards us. Any second now they would start calling us rude names and chucking nasty stuff at us. Sure enough, a particularly fierce-looking peasant stepped right up to me.
But to my surprise he said, “Bad luck, sonny! Sorry they caught you!”
He gave me a friendly pat on the head and wandered off. I looked at the others and saw that the same thing was happening to them. Instead of being rude and throwing rotten eggs and veg, the crowd was treating the outlaws like heroes – to the obvious annoyance of Lurk.
Sir Percy got the most fuss of all. Peasants shook his hand and said, “Good old Ghost!” Kindly old ladies fed him buns and tarts. In fact, Sir Percy soon began to enjoy the attention a little too much. When one man praised him for a particularly daring raid on the sheriff’s tax collectors, my master just smiled and said, “Oh, it was nothing, old boy. One must stick up for the common people, you know!”
“Sir Percy!” I hissed. “You’re not actually the Ghost, remember!”
“Oh, don’t be such a spoilsport, Cedric,” he said. “It’s only a bit of harmless fun.”
Trying not to sound rude, I pointed out that his bit of harmless fun might lose him his head.
“Don’t worry, lad,” said Jack. “You forget that the real Ghost is still free. Once he hears what’s happened he’s bound to rescue us!”
“That’s right,” said Maud, who was in the stocks beside Jack. “All we have to do is sit tight. Not that we’ve much choice. At least no one’s chucking muck at us.”
