by David Skuy
“I believe I know him,” Aldwin said. “He is a short man, but stout, with thin brown hair, if I recall — a slightly pinched-in face and a scraggly beard.”
“That’s him,” Lucy said.
“He manages one of the baron’s estates, and he has a … bad reputation. You must stay away from him, Pip,” Aldwin said.
“Like I said, it was nothing,” Pip thundered. “You treat me like I’m five years old, like I’ll cry if I fall and skin my knee. Do I look like I got hurt?”
In fact, his body was aching.
Aldwin picked up his knife. “I am glad to hear you are well. Please, children, help yourselves to more.”
After an uncomfortable pause, Lucy and Harold began to discuss the fair. Aldwin tried to catch Pip’s attention. Pip refused. He was glad his father was leaving tomorrow.
After listening for a while, Aldwin took a long sip from his tankard. “Children, if I could interrupt.”
“Of course, Uncle,” Harold said.
“I have been thinking — and after much serious consid-eration, I have changed my mind. I believe it would be an ideal time for you to come to the Bradford Fair, all three of you: if you all came, I wouldn’t worry about Pip being by himself. And fortunately, an old friend will be attending as well so we have a nice place to stay. What do you think of that?”
Pip stared, wild-eyed.
“The Bradford Fair is very big,” Harold said nervously.
“My Little Pip is right,” Aldwin said. “It is time you saw some of the world beyond the walls of our dear Notting-hamshire.”
Pip could scarcely believe it. Why had his father changed his mind, especially after hearing about Johnson?
“I would love to go,” Lucy said. “And you’re coming too, Harold. You have to. It won’t be fun without you. Right, Pipper?”
“Of course, he should come,” Pip said, only slowly coming to his senses.
“I will go ask your parents after dinner, but I am confi-dent they will agree,” Aldwin said to Lucy and Harold. “You don’t have much time to prepare for the journey, so when you finish eating we should go talk to them. It’s a six-day trip — and we all need to get to bed because we will be leav-ing very early.”
“We will be ready, Father,” Pip said.
“Then let us toast the traveling party,” Aldwin called out, holding his mug high. They cheered and clinked mugs. Pip could hardly contain himself. The Bradford Fair wasn’t like battling the Sheriff of Nottingham in Sherwood Forest with Robin Hood, but it certainly beat studying Latin!
ough laughter from inside Ackerley’s Inn sent a shiver down Pip’s spine. A quick look at Harold told him he was uneasy, too. Lucy alone seemed unconcerned.
Aldwin tugged on Garrick and Aubrey’s reins. “My dear children, would you wait here a moment while I unhitch the horses and put the wagon in the barn?”
“Of course,” Harold and Lucy replied.
Another roar of laughter sounded. Aldwin cast a glance at the inn and then directed the horses to the barn.
Pip waited until he was out of earshot. “Let’s go in,” he said.
“Your father told us to stay here,” Harold said. He bit down on his lip.
That’s exactly why Pip wanted to go in. He wasn’t a Little Pip.
“Stop being so afraid,” Pip said. “We can at least warm up.”
“What’s the rush?” Harold said.
Pip ignored the question and went in. Harold groaned, but he followed, as did Lucy. The smell of stale beer and roasted meat almost made him gag. About a dozen men sat around a table, drinking from large metal tankards. A few had laid their heads on the table and were not moving — they looked asleep — and one man was sprawled out on the floor. The others were talking loudly, slapping each other on the back, and hoisting their drinks to offer an oath to the sheriff or to cheer King John. Most carried swords by their sides or had a bow strung across their backs. Leather quivers filled with arrows were scattered about. At the far end of the room, a darkened doorway led to a staircase, and next to it, behind a long table that ran practically the length of the room, stood a surly-looking man, bald except for a few wisps of hair on the sides of his small, round head. His deep-set eyes made him look like a mangy old eagle.
No one paid them the slightest attention.
“I think the man behind the table is the innkeeper,” Lucy said to Pip.
“I think you’re right,” Pip said. “I’ll ask about our rooms.”
“I think we should wait for your father,” Harold said.
Pip threw his shoulders back and walked over.
“Greetings,” Pip said. “Are you Mister Ackerley?”
The man nodded slowly and took a drink from his tankard.
“I am Pip Draper, son of Aldwin Draper of Nottingham-shire. We are on our way to the Bradford Fair. My father is putting our wagon and horses in the barn. We require rooms for the night.”
“Is that so?” Ackerley croaked, with a voice that sounded like his throat was filled with sand and pebbles. He squinted as he spoke and sucked in air every so often.
“Yes … it is … and if you could show us our rooms … and serve us something to eat.” Pip looked over at the door. He wondered what was taking his father so long.
Ackerley sucked in more air. The men at the table were getting louder and louder. A sudden crash made Pip jump.
“Ackerley, give me another tankard of beer, scoundrel, or I’ll knock your head against these walls so hard you’ll shake for a day!” A massive man, with hands the size of Roxanna’s frying pans, staggered to his feet and held his tankard in the air. His shiny black hair, tied in the back, fell to below his shoulders. “I must have more drink, or I shall crush your skull,” he roared as he smashed his fist down on the table.
“Of course, Sir Lanford,” Ackerley said, bowing his head. “Right away.”
Ackerley reached for a tankard from a shelf and filled it from a spigot that was stuck into a wooden barrel. A foamy golden liquid flowed out. When it was full he turned the spigot off and scrambled out from behind the long table to deliver the drink.
“Here you are, Sir Lanford. Whatever you need, just ask old Ackerley. Old Ack, that’s me. I shall bring more beer for all your men, yes?” He placed the tankard in front of Sir Lanford and stood up as straight as his twisted body allowed.
“Aye, bring more — and do not let my tankard become empty again, Old Ack, or you will feel the broadside of my sword on your broadside,” Sir Lanford cried.
“Of course, Sir Lanford. I am here to serve, Sir Lanford. Right away, right away,” Ackerley said.
He bowed and scurried back behind the long table, then picked up a glass and began to polish it with a cloth. The cloth looked a bit dirty to Pip.
“A toast to Sir Lanford the Brave,” a man called out, his tankard held high. He then put his head back on the table. Pip couldn’t see his face, but the voice sounded familiar.
Ackerley put the glass down and picked up another.
“Excuse me, Mister Ackerley,” Pip said.
Ackerley continued to polish the glass.
“Mister Ackerley,” Pip repeated.
He wanted to show his father that he wasn’t afraid to ask for a room in an inn — that he wasn’t Little Pip anymore.
“Mister Ackerley? Sir?” Pip said louder.
Again no reaction.
“Mister Ackerley!” Pip shouted.
The men had momentarily stopped talking. Pip’s shout was heard by all.
Sir Lanford turned. “Hey, Mister Ack-er-ley!” he sang in a high-pitched voice.
“Mister Ack-er-ley! Mister Ack-er-ley! Mister Ack-er-ley!” a few men chanted.
“About the room …?” Pip began.
Red-faced, Ackerley grabbed Pip by the collar. “Get out, you disrespectful imp,” he said, hi
s eyes ablaze. “There’s no room in my inn for your kind. Begone, or I’ll give you ten lashes each.”
Pip felt a presence. A tankard slammed down beside him.
“You broke your promise,” Sir Lanford said, slurring his words. “My cup is empty. Why is that, you scoundrel? Would you like to explain it to my sword?” He ran his hand along the hilt.
“I was just about to bring you more — just this moment.” Ackerley turned the spigot, and the beer poured out.
Sir Lanford ripped the tankard from his hand and drained half of it in one gulp. “Fill it to the top this time,” Sir Lanford said.
Ackerley reached for the tankard. His hand was shaking.
“Are these yours?” Sir Lanford said to Ackerley. “I did not know an old man like you had young children.”
“These? Mine? Of course not. I’ve never seen them before.” Ackerley slid the refilled tankard to Sir Lanford. “Out with you, dirty beggars. They come in all day begging for food and drink, as if I were a rich lord. All day, Sir Lanford, I must suffer these knaves. I hardly have enough to eat myself, and I’m supposed to feed half of England?”
The door opened, and Aldwin entered. His face went pale.
“My dear Ackerley,” Aldwin said with a smile, his hand extended. “So wonderful to see you again after so long. I am again off to the Bradford Fair. This time I have brought my son and my niece and nephew. Could you be so good as to show us to our rooms, and perhaps we can impose our-selves on you for something to eat?”
“Are these your children?” Sir Lanford asked. He burped.
“They are.”
“I do not want children here. This is a place for men.”
The men at the table raised their tankards and let out a roar.
Aldwin lowered his gaze and bowed his head. “Sir Lanford, I did not realize it was you. I apologize. I am Aldwin, of Nottinghamshire. We met once, at the Baron Geoffrey’s manor. I delivered some blankets. I am sorry for offending you. Greetings to your lord, the baron. We will not disturb you. We merely need rooms for the night. The children have had a long day, and they need to go to sleep.”
Sir Lanford snorted. “Begone with you. Bradford is many hours from here. You should continue. We shall be here for some time.”
“You will not bother us in the least,” Aldwin said humbly. He bowed his head.
Sir Lanford took a long drink from his tankard. His hand gripped the hilt of his sword. “Are we going to have a dispute? We will have no children here tonight.”
Aldwin held his hands up and laughed quietly. “Of course, we will continue along the road if you believe that is best. It would indeed be useful to arrive at Bradford … earlier. Come, children.”
Sir Lanford’s lips curled in an arrogant, mocking sneer.
Pip wanted more than anything to drive his fist into that horrible face — or better yet, for Robin Hood to walk through that door and teach this Sir Lanford how to behave. But he was only a boy — Little Pip — and his father … well, that was laughable. They left to the sound of men’s cheers rebound-ing off the walls. At the door, Pip looked back.
The man whose voice had seemed so familiar raised his head from the table and held his tankard in the air. “And here is to the executioner’s axe when it cuts off the head of that foul dog Robin Hood and the heads of his foul Merry Men,” he cried out.
Pip ducked his head and stepped out. That was Johnson. He’d never forget his face. Pip said a short prayer of thanks that he had not been recognized — no doubt because of the beer.
“Let us continue on our journey,” Aldwin said. “We may not be fortunate enough to have a roof over our heads tonight, however. I will retrieve the wagon. At least Garrick and Aubrey will be pleased to see us.” He did not seem the least put out by what had happened.
“You can’t let them treat you like that,” Pip raged. “You should go back in there and teach Ackerley and Sir Lanford a lesson.”
“Sir Lanford manages Baron Geoffrey’s estates,” Aldwin said. “He is a very powerful man — and he is also a former soldier in the Sheriff’s Guard. I do not think that is a wise idea.”
“You’re going to let him insult our family name?” Pip said. He threw his hands in the air. “We did nothing wrong.”
“A conflict with those men is foolish, Little Pip,” Aldwin said.
Pip turned his back and walked away. Robin Hood would never allow himself to be humiliated like that.
Never!
ip cast a wistful look at the wagon. Darkness was spread-ing, and Ackerley’s Inn seemed ages ago. Aldwin had asked if they’d like to ride. Lucy and Harold had clambered aboard, but he was still fuming about his father’s cowardice and had refused. Harold was fast asleep, stretched out on the blankets. Lucy was looking up at the sky, singing to herself.
Aldwin pulled the wagon to a halt and waited for Pip to catch up.
“Are you sure you would not prefer to rest in the wagon? We are many hours from Bradford,” Aldwin said.
“I’m fine,” Pip mumbled. He wasn’t giving in.
“It’s fun up here, Pipper,” Lucy said. “You sure? I’ll sing you to sleep.”
Before he could answer, Aldwin pointed over his shoulder.
“We have visitors,” he said.
Four people crested the top of a hill and walked toward them. Pip guessed they were a family. The father looked the same age as Aldwin, but he walked slowly, his face was lined and thin, and he seemed very weary. The man carried a little boy, a dirty ragamuffin of a child with a mop of curly red hair, clad in a dull gray tunic made from the sacks used for flour and clutching a small cloth doll. The mother’s head was covered with a gray wool scarf, her hair tucked underneath. She too seemed very tired and walked slowly. Beside her trudged another boy, with a sunken-in chest, who wore loose-fitting gray-brown wool pants and a long-sleeved shirt that were torn and marked with dirt. His face was dirty too and lined with streaks of sweat. Pip guessed he was around fifteen years old. He carried a scythe on his shoulders, which Pip knew peasants used to cut down wheat or barley in the fields.
“Greetings, good people,” Aldwin called out.
The family stopped a respectful distance away.
“What is your name, good man?” Aldwin said.
“I am Merec. This is my wife, Anne.” He lifted the boy in his arms. “And my sons, Barda and my older boy, Fendral. We are the baron’s people.”
Barda shook his doll in the air. “This is Felix.”
Aldwin laughed. “Hello, Felix. It is nice to meet you.” He introduced everyone.
Pip bowed. This was at least something interesting.
“Would you happen to know if there is an inn close by where we could stay? We are in need of food and lodging, and the darkness is close upon us,” Aldwin said.
“There is an inn back yonder — Ackerley’s,” Merec said. “It is some distance from here.”
“There was no room at Ackerley’s,” Aldwin said. “I sup-pose we must press on. It has been a long day.”
Harold peeked his head over the side of the wagon. “Are we there yet?” he said sleepily.
“Not even close,” Lucy said.
Harold rested his chin on the wagon’s edge.
Merec leaned over and said something to Anne. She shrugged wearily.
“We have a small shelter beside our cottage,” Merec said. “You are welcome to stay with us for the night. We live but a quarter-mile from here.”
“Do you not live with the baron’s people?” Aldwin said.
“I was once a free man,” Merec said matter-of-factly. “I could not pay my taxes one year, however, and we were forced to pledge ourselves to the baron. But we still live in our cottage, and the baron permits me a small garden.”
“This is very kind of you,” Aldwin said. “If I were to provide you with some coinage, would
you be able to buy some food for us? We have not had time to sup as of yet.”
“Aye,” Merec said. “My son Fendral could go back to the village and buy some flour and vegetables and maybe a chicken.”
Aldwin counted out some coins and gave them to Merec. He showed Anne. She blinked several times, staring.
“This is far too much, Master Aldwin,” Merec said.
Aldwin waved him off. “It is also for the lodging. Please, it’s no matter. We are very hungry. We are in your debt. Pip, could you go with Fendral and help carry the food, or are you too tired?” Aldwin said.
Pip stepped forward. “I’m not tired at all, Father.”
“I’m not tired, either,” Lucy said. “I’ll help.”
“I will help too,” Harold said, with a gaping yawn.
“Thank you, children.” Aldwin turned to Merec. “Would your family like to ride on the wagon? There is plenty of room, and the blankets are soft.”
“We will walk,” Merec said. He lowered his head.
“I won’t have it,” Aldwin said kindly. “Barda and Anne look exhausted. I assume you have been working in the baron’s fields all day?”
“It is harvest time,” Merec said.
“Please, at least allow Barda and Anne to ride,” Aldwin said. “You and I may talk. I am interested to learn about the land in these parts. What are you growing? Did the crops flourish this season?”
Merec helped Barda and Anne into the wagon.
“Go to Kolby — he will give you the food,” Merec said to Fendral.
Fendral nodded and turned back down the hill without so much as a word in reply. Lucy fell in behind him.
“Take care, children. Hurry back,” Aldwin said.
The wagon jerked forward.
Pip roused himself. This meant more walking, and then carrying the food to wherever they lived, but it was the closest thing to an adventure he would have today.
ucy caught Pip’s attention and nodded at Fendral. She’d been trying, without success, to get Fendral to talk with them.
“What do you do … at the baron’s?” Pip offered.
