by K. M. Shea
Friar Tuck became a father figure to my band, as well as myself. He was easily our senior, being the age of our real fathers, and generally managed to keep the growing number of Merry Men in line. He took over teaching the new recruits to read and write, and he would also help us cook on many occasions. Although he usually stayed with us he did have his own parsonage that he would go off to from time to time. He also added a new tradition to our daily archery practice. Anyone who had the misfortune of performing badly would get smashed on the head by the good Friar Tuck. (It was Will Stutely’s idea and was heartily supported by all. I’ll never fully understand the violent tendencies of males.)
About a week and a half after I met Friar Tuck I was alone in camp, except for Will Scarlet and the animals. In three days Prince John was supposedly going to pass through Sherwood Forest, and I had decided to allow my men to visit their homes before we tried to rob the spoiled prince. Only Will Scarlet had refused, and he was snoozing near the campfire as I exited my hut, wearing a disguise.
“And where do you think you’re going?” Will asked, his hat was tipped over his face, hiding his eyes, from his position on the ground.
“Home. I’m going to walk by my parent’s house,” I said.
“Do you think that’s wise?” Will asked, never stirring from his position.
I shrugged. “It’s not like their going to recognize me. After all this practice my male disguise is pretty solid.”
“Fine. Take Crafty with you then,” he ordered as he shifted into a more comfortable position.
“Whatever for?” I snorted as I slipped on a floppy hat.
“Protection,” Will yawned
I scrunched my nose “Why would I need protection?”
“So if Much or Will Stutely happens to pass by you and I don’t get our hides tanned.”
“I see your point, alright. I’ll ride Crafty,” I said as I walked toward the wooden fences. I carefully brushed and saddled the sneaky horse, who was relatively good for once. I slipped the bridle over his head and led Crafty out of the pen, latching the gate behind me. “I’ll be back before dusk,” I said as I swung up on the devious animal.
Will’s only response was to snore. I shrugged before fixing my long, tan cape. I spun Crafty around and urged him through the woods at a quick walk. He broke into a brisk canter after a proper warm up. (Unlike Marian, I would not kill my horse from lack of appropriate exercise.)
Half a mile away from my parent’s home I paused to fix my clothes. I was wearing a simple white shirt with black hose and my suede boots. My tan cape served me well in making my body look bulkier, and my floppy hat made a large shadow on my face which thankfully covered most of my features and allowed my hair to be tucked out of sight.
Crafty obediently walked forward, swishing his black tail as we went. We came down the road at a slow walk. I craned my neck, looking for my parents. I wouldn’t talk to them, but I was hoping I would get a glance of them.
I couldn’t spot my father, but my mother was sitting on a small chair, her face buried in her hands. A pile of laundry was next to her, as well as a bucket of water. She was obviously doing the washing.
As we neared her I could hear some sort of sobbing noise. I pulled Crafty to a halt directly in front of the house. Both the horse and I watched my mother cry with confused looks.
“What is the problem, Madame?” I asked, speaking with a deep accent while praying she wouldn’t recognize my voice in spite of my attempts to cloak it.
My mother looked up at me with red, swollen eyes. She wiped her nose on the sleeve of her dress and blinked in surprise as she looked up at me. “Oh, nothing good sir. I was just missing me daughter.”
Now it was my turn to be astonished. “What do you mean?” I politely asked.
My mother heaved a sigh. “About a year ago me daughter… left home, and I’ve never heard from ‘er since,” she teared up again as she told me the story. “She was a spirited gurl. But my ‘usband and I loved her so. I can’t help but think she must be dead.”
I had to keep my jaw from dropping in surprise as Crafty impatiently stomped a hoof. I was horrified. I had forgotten entirely about letting my parents know I was alright. As far as they knew I could have been eaten by wolves! The only people, besides my Merry Men, who knew I was alive were Much’s parents, and they would never utter my name for fear of revealing too much.
“And now I feel so bad. I could have been nicer to the poor gurl. She was blast tempered but honorable at least,” my mother said with dignity. “Worst part yet is we could have helped her. If my husband had showed up just one minute sooner...,” my mother continued to pour her heart out to me as I allowed shock to show on my face. She was thankfully too wrapped up in her story to notice.
But my father blamed himself?! I was the ninny who went and shot a forester! Not him! As my mother continued I found myself forcibly re-evaluating my parents.
“Robyn, that was her name. She was a lovely girl. She had an eye for archery and a steady hand. Probably could beat Robin Hood hisself,” my mother sniffed.
I blushed at her praise. Compliments were a rare thing from my parents, not to mention I didn’t know they knew just how good I was with a bow.
“I just wish we knew what happened to her,” my mother sighed.
“Madame, it sounds like you truly loved your daughter,” I kindly said.
My mother nodded and scrubbed her face. “We did. We do,” she admitted before straightening up to look me in the eyes. “I’m sorry, sir. I’ve been holding babbling like an old woman. Forgive me,” she said as she looked at my nice, clean clothes.
I nodded as I uncomfortably adjusted Crafty’s reins. I knew I had to do something. It was my own folly that had started this whole Robin Hood business, and I was a fool for forgetting my parents. I owed it to them to let them know that I, Robyn, was alive. As much as I hadn’t wanted to admit it, I had missed my parents. Why else would I ride past our home, hoping for a glance of them?
“Madame, is it true that Prince John is coming to Nottingham in three days time?” I asked as I fingered the pouch and horn at my side that were hidden under my cape.
My mother nodded.
I tossed a small bag of gold to her, taken from my pouch. “You will need it. He will surely raise taxes again once he arrives.”
My mother took the gold with an astonished look. She looked at me, then Crafty, then my clothes, then back at me. “You, sir, are Robin Hood,” she said in a dazed voice.
I gave my best dashing smile as Crafty snorted and tossed his head. “How ever did you guess?”
My mother eyed Crafty who was showing the whites of his eyes as he snorted. “They say you ride a demon horse,” she flatly said before turning back to me. “Thank you so much sir!” she said with a gruff smile.
“No problem at all,” I said, tipping my hat as Crafty started walking away. I licked my lips, trying to find the best way to phrase my next sentence. “And Madame, don’t worry about your daughter. I assure you, she is quite safe,” I called behind me.
I figured she would maybe believe I had been taken in by Robin Hood himself, or perhaps protected by Maid Marian, who the villagers knew to be connected with Robin Hood. I figured wrong.
Instead I nearly fell off my horse when I heard my mother mutter behind me.
“Oh Robyn. I told your father that only such a foolish gurl as you would try to save Much. Pah, and ‘e actually believed there was a man who could outshoot you.”
Clearly she had connected the dots.
I cued Crafty into a canter, I didn’t want to be seen hanging around my mother any longer. It might look suspicious, not to mention my mother was perfectly able to manhandle me, and if I stuck in range much longer she would probably drag me off Crafty before making me work in her wretched garden.
The ride back to camp was pleasant. I was in good spirits, and sang my way back into camp. Will Scarlet hadn’t moved an inch, and he didn’t stir to see what the commotion was
about.
I untacked Crafty before I put him back in the pen with the pony. I was dancing back to my hut when Scarlet finally chose to speak.
“What’s got you in a tizzy?” he yawned, remaining stationary.
I turned back to grin at him while I stripped off my hat and cape. “Nothing.”
“It was a good visit then I take it?” he said as he finally sat up to look at me.
“Best in the country,” I boasted. “I’m going to slip back into my clothes before I do some more target practice. Care to join me?”
“No, I don’t,” Scarlet said, settling back down. “But I’ll watch,” he assured me.
“Thanks Will,” I laughed.
“Don’t mention it,” Will said, shutting his blue eyes as I danced into my hut.
Three days later my lips moved in a silent, but pleading prayer. My men watched me with amused expressions while Hob poked Little John in the ribs.
“Oi. Little John. What’s she doing?” he asked.
Little John grinned. “Her last rites.”
Hob looked slightly disturbed as he watched me before turning back to Little John. “She could have Friar Tuck do them you know. Much more professional that way.”
I stood shakily, stretching up as far as I could possibly muster. “Okay men, to your positions,” I said as I started climbing a tree.
A few moments ago a scout had reported that Prince John was traveling down our road. We divided the band up. Will Scarlet was leading the second division, which was scattered down the road.
The plan was for me to jump onto the roof of Prince John’s carriage, as was custom. My men would keep the soldiers stationary while I introduced myself to the Prince and relieved him of some of his gold. Unfortunately we really had no idea how many soldiers Prince John had.
I wiped my sweaty hands on my hose as I trembled on my familiar branch that reached out over the road. As I shivered I could see Will Scarlet across the way, giving me encouraging looks. I miserable stared at him before huddling up in a ball, trying to blend in with the branch. (Which isn’t so easy.)
There was a thumping as the blasting of horns filled the forest. Did Prince John mean to announce his arrival to us? The music grew closer and I craned my neck to see heralds on horseback appear down the road. Behind them were three mounted knights and at least fifteen guards, all also on horses. A huge, golden, gaudy carriage rounded the bend. It took up nearly the entire road and it was pulled by six bay, panting horses. They reminded me of Nearly Dead with their tired expressions. Behind the garish carriage was about twenty guards mounted on horses and about ten foot soldiers.
All of the men seemed to wear pampered, snobby expressions, not even the least intimidated at the thought of meeting up with me. Apparently the rumors about me being a cut throat with an army of the undead hadn’t reached him yet. (No, that never happened. But at one point Much was bandaged from head to toe because Will Stutely was teaching trainees how to bandage wounds. Much tore through the forest, trying to flee from the greenhorns at top speed, and ran into the Sheriff’s men, scaring them so badly that they took off to Nottingham Castle, their girly screams echoing through the forest.)
My nervousness increased as the procession neared my branch. The knights and the guards passed underneath me without noticing my presence. Shuddering one last time I leaped off the branch and landed on the carriage, flattening myself against it for a moment before I jumped to my feet. “Halt, in the name of Robin Hood!” I bellowed as I fixed a notched arrow on one of the knights in the front.
My men emerged from the forest, grim expressions on their faces as they took aim at the soldiers. All of the guards either screamed or whimpered and dropped their weapons. The carriage driver cringed from his position in front of me as the tired horses paused, grateful for the stop.
Only one of the three knights appeared to be unafraid. He turned in his saddle and fixed his black eyes on me, giving me a glare that would have melted a man. But, I am not a man. So instead I sent him a glare of equal fire until I knew Little John and Will Scarlet had their arrows trained on him. (Having those two covering me significantly decreases my cowardly ways.)
I then turned my attention to the carriage underneath me, more specifically the man in it.
“What’s going on?” I heard a shrill voice demand as something pounded the roof of the carriage. I wolfishly grinned—my adrenaline kicking in—before I bent over and opened one of the carriage doors, flipped upside down, and swung inside.
Prince John was a skinny, sticky sort of fellow. To me he did not seem to look like King Richard at all. As a matter of fact he bore a striking resemblance to the pig boy from my village. The crown was too big for him, and he had beady, sunken eyes. Upon seeing me he swore and covered his nose with a lace handkerchief as if I smelled bad.
“Prince John, how good of you to come!” I said in a sing song voice as I narrowed my eyes and smirked at the trembling prince. “I’m Robin Hood, welcome to my humble road.”
“Guards!” Prince John tittered.
“Ah, ah, ah!” I said as I tore a velvet shade off of the carriage windows. “They are already being welcomed by my Merry Men.”
Prince John stared outside his window, Much was leaning along side the carriage and he gave the pale prince a leer.
“Oh my!” the Prince said. “Guards, attack them!”
Much and I exchanged looks before shrugging. “They are currently oppressed,” I broadly grinned. “But do not worry. Your poor horses are about to die, so I will help you out and lighten the load,” I generously offered as I gazed around the well decorated carriage. “Much, strip the outside would you?” I asked. I could hear my childhood friend go to work and I grinned as I felt around the carriage for a hidden compartment. I couldn’t find one so I turned to Prince John. “If you’ll please stand for a moment, milord,” I mockingly said.
PJ turned white. “No!” he squeaked.
“I can always make you move,” I said as I pulled a hunting knife out of my belt. “It makes no difference to me,” I added, running my thumb across the knife’s smooth surface.
The Prince pitifully moaned and threw himself across the aisle. “You ruffian!” he accused as I tore the cushion off the seat. Sure enough, under Prince John’s spot there was a small door which opened up into the entire seat, which was hallowed out and filled with gold. I whistled and instantly Little John was peering through the open carriage door.
“Little John, allow me to introduce you to Prince John,” I said as I handed him several bags of gold. The prince glared at us, his beady eyes calculating his escape. “Don’t worry,” I said. “We’ll let you go this time. But next time I suggest you leave the horn blowers at home,” I winked before leaping out of the carriage, holding several bags of gold. “Farewell!” I cried before I whistled again. Instantly my men disappeared into the foliage, leaving no trace, except for a wailing Prince John, of our robbery.
Just inside the forest we all held still, holding our breath as we relied on our clothes and the trees to hide us. After several minutes of comforting Prince John, the entourage finally moved on, the knight with the burning eyes glaring into the forest as if he knew we were still there.
We waited for another five minutes, to be sure they had left, before I made a series of whistles, telling the men to split up and meet back at the camp. Yes, we might take precaution a bit too far, but we did not want a repeat of the incident with the Foresters.
Will Scarlet and Little John attached themselves to me as we slunk through the forest. We were the first group back, and the pair wildly whooped with joy as I grinned from my sitting position on a log. (The adrenalin rush had left me a little knock kneed.)
They were doing a makeshift dance around a lit fire when Friar Tuck found us.
“So I take it the raid on Prince John was successful?” the friar asked as he waddled into camp with a smile.
“Yes,” I said laughed.
“Splendid! How many men did he
have with him?” Friar Tuck asked as he stirred a simmering pot of stew that Hob had left over the fire to “boil lightly”. (It had burned.)
“I would say about thirty five mounted guards, ten foot soldiers, three knights, and a bunch of heralds,” Scarlet estimated.
Friar Tuck rolled his eyes. Even I could hear that blasted Prince from my parsonage. It’s a wonder he’s not deaf,” he grumbled as he looked disgustedly at the stew, which was a murky black while the scent of burnt meat drifted through the air.
I heard some men running through a forest when I felt two explosions on my back.
“Robyn!” Will Stutely and Much simultaneously yelled as they knocked me over in their excitement.
“We did it!” Much proclaimed as he proudly thrust his fist into the air.
“That we did!” Tom agreed as he entered the clearing behind them, a big grin stretched across his face.
“Have you opened up the bags yet?” Will Stutely asked as Much threw his booty from the outside of the carriage near my feet. It was mostly velvet cloth and a few gaudy gems.
“No,” I said as I sat down on a log. “We can being now,” I continued as Hob led another group of five Merry Men into the camp, all yelling and yodeling with joy.
I dutifully reached for a bag when I realized that I was drowned out in the jubilance of the occasion. I smiled as I watched Hob, Tom, Will Stutely, and a new recruit called Gilbert join hands and run around the fire. Almost everyone had returned by now. The only ones who weren’t yelling or singing their heads off were the good Friar (who was still stirring the stew with a disturbed look at its contents) and myself.
I opened the bag to examine our newfound treasure when my jaw dropped. “Scarlet!” I yelled over the hubbub. A second later he was at my side.
“What is it?” he said as he eased himself onto my log.
“How much is this worth?” I breathlessly asked him as I thrust a bag full of large, glittering gems onto his lap.
