by Merv Lambert
“I’ll cross first,” shouted the stranger, who was wearing a large red cloak with a hood that somewhat hid his face.
The bridge was certainly not wide enough for two people to pass each other on it, but for some reason he did not understand Colin felt forced to say, “No! I’ll go first!” and he purposefully strode forward.
The stranger was already advancing across the narrow bridge, carrying a large heavy basket covered by a cloth. Colin stepped onto the bridge too and advanced towards the middle.
“Go back, sirrah!” ordered the stranger. “I’m in a great hurry!”
“No, sirrah!” countered Colin, unconsciously mimicking the way the other man spoke. “You did not ask. You told me.”
“But I am on an important errand for my grandmother. She is very old and I am taking some things to her.” He held up the basket as if to prove it. “She is always worried, if I am late.” Sammy barked excitedly. Could he smell food?
Colin did not know why he was being so stubborn, but the bookmark was glowing in his pocket, as if it was telling him what to do.
Both men advanced cautiously towards the middle of the bridge, which was beginning to shake under their weight. It happened at the same instant. Colin and the man in the cloak lost their balance and fell into the water. Gasping, they reached the same bank of the stream and sat on the grass. Sammy hopped off Colin’s shoulders. He was not even wet.
The stranger had managed to keep the basket out of the water, and now he put it down beside him.
“According to the legend,” he said, “we should have fought before we fell in.”
“Yes, isn’t that how you met your friend Little John?” Colin had realised who the stranger was. “I’m certain this is not the first time this has happened to you. It’s called déjà vu – something you feel or know you have experienced before.”
“Tis true,” replied the stranger, stretching out his right hand. “I’m Robin of Loxley. Welcome to the Forest of Sherwood.”
Colin said,” I’m Colin and this is Sammy. They shook hands, grinning delightedly at each other and Robin patted Sammy, who licked his face.
“Well, because I have a not so little friend called Little John, I shall call you Big Colin,” said Robin, “and by the way I am sometimes known as Little Red Robin Hood. It’s a useful disguise.
“So that’s why you wear that cloak.”
“Yes. My sister lends it to me. It helps Grandma to identify us. Her eyes are not so good these days. Perhaps you would like to meet her? Will you come with me to her house?”
“Gladly, but there is somewhere we need to go first.” Colin only knew that the bookmark seemed to be directing him again, and picking up Sammy, he put his other arm round Robin’s shoulders. The bookmark glowed redly, and moments later it appeared that they were in a big room with a roaring fire in the large chimney and lit all around the walls by flaming torches in metal brackets.
“Why, this is Nottingham Castle, and yonder is the sheriff!” breathed Robin.
“Good,” said Colin.
“Can he see us?”
“No. I don’t think so. This is a little like a dream, but the things we are seeing are true.”
They looked on in amazement at what the sheriff was doing.
“What are you doing, my lord poppet?” asked Mrs. Sheriff, who was sitting on a chair next to the log fire, sewing.
Once again her husband attempted to knock a small ball into a goblet that he had laid sideways on the floor. Without looking up, he replied, “It’s a new game called golf, so I’m practising for the tournament here on Sunday. It’s quite difficult, and it requires a calm temperament and a lot of patience.”
His wife pouted. “Qualities you lack, my lord.”
“What?” he roared. “Don’t be ridiculous, woman! Watch!”
Carefully he swung his club at the ball, which sped through a doorway at great speed and disappeared down the stairs. Angrily he stamped his foot and cried, “Oh, Robin Hood!”
“Now, now! No swearing,” said Mrs. Sheriff.
“I’m not swearing,” he said, throwing his club after the ball. It sailed through the doorway, hit the wall and clattered down the stairs.
“Ow!” cried a voice, and almost immediately Louis Leloup, the tax-collector, appeared, holding one hand to his head and the golf club in the other. “Good day, my lord sheriff,” he said, bowing awkwardly.
“What’s the matter, Louis?” asked Mrs. Sheriff.
Louis was clearly annoyed and upset. “I don’t believe this!” he howled indignantly. “Whilst I was climbing the stairs, a sort of club suddenly appeared and hit me on the head. Is it a new secret weapon of the Scots? They could be besieging the castle at this very moment! There are rumours that they have a new machine, which hurls missiles like this.”
He held out the club for the sheriff to inspect. “The fact is that some cretin has just hit me on the head with it. If I find him, he will pay for that!”
Menace crept into the Sheriff’s voice, which became very quiet. “Some cretin? Some idiot you mean? What if an important person did it?”
“Oh, in that case he isn’t a cretin, only an imbecile!” replied Louis hotly.
“And what if it was me who threw it?” asked the sheriff.
Louis was suddenly aware of the trap he had fallen into. Astonishment and alarm showed on his face. “You, my lord? Prithee…I…I…I crave your pardon. Were you perchance testing this new weapon?”
“No, it’s just a game,” put in Mrs. Sheriff drily.
“A very dangerous one then in my opinion, “ muttered Louis.
The sheriff strolled across the room and leaned the golf-club in the corner out of harm’s way lest he felt like hitting someone with it again. “Well then, Louis, why have you come here today?”
Eagerly Louis tried to regain favour with his employer. “I have news, my lord. That scoundrel Robin Hood…”
He could hardly have said anything more likely to make the sheriff lose his temper.
“Aaargh! That villain! What has he done now?”
“Nothing, my lord,” replied Louis anxiously, “but I heard that he has got a rendez-vous with his grandmother in the Forest of Sherwood. I intend to set an ambush for him”
The Sheriff looked pleased. “A trap, eh? What sort of ambush?”
Encouraged, Louis hastened to explain. “I will take the place of his grandmother.”
“But you don’t look at all like an old lady, Louis,” objected Mrs. Sheriff.
“I know,” he said, “but I will borrow a dress and put on a wig.”
“Yea, and this time don’t let the rascal escape,” snarled the Sheriff.
“No, no, my lord, I assure you,” pleaded Louis, ever anxious to please his master.
Mrs. Sheriff was not so sure. “We shall see,” she murmured quietly to herself.
Once more the bookmark glowed and seemed to pulse. A log on the fire flared suddenly, and it seemed only minutes later that the three companions, Robin, Colin and Sammy, found themselves looking on, as Louis Leloup, alone, arrived at a cottage in the forest.
Robin stepped forward angrily, but Colin put his hand on his arm to hold him back.” Don’t worry. He won’t harm her,” he said. Sammy wuffed quietly, as if agreeing.
Louis Leloup knocked at the door. He was wearing a red cloak and hood and was carrying a huge basket covered with a cloth. He knocked again.
“Who’s there?” came a voice from within the cottage.
Louis, trying to disguise his own voice, cried, “It’s me. Robin.”
“You can come in,” called Grandma. “The door isn’t locked.”
Louis let himself in. The onlookers followed him in, unseen. Colin saw the main room had a large open chimney and fireplace with a few logs stacked beside it. There was a rough wooden table and chair
and against the far wall a large bed next to another door, which was ajar, showing steps leading down to a cellar. Robin’s grandmother, wrapped in a large red shawl, was lying in bed, looking frail and old.
With his hood over his face and still trying to make his voice sound like Robin’s, Louis said politely, “Good morning, Grandma.”
“Good morning my dear,” she replied. “How are you?”
“Very well, thank you,” said Louis, gaining in confidence. “And you?”
“Oh, all right. All right…more or less. I feel a little cold, and I can’t find my glasses.”
“Don’t worry,” laughed Louis. “They haven’t been invented yet.”
“Oh, really?” said Grandma. “But come closer. What have you brought me?”
Louis edged towards the bed. He swept the cloth from the basket to show what was inside. “I’ve got some bread, some eggs, some chicken legs…”
“What?” cried Grandma. “Food?”
“Yea, verily, Grandma, the usual,” Louis replied, rather taken aback by her reaction.
“Usual?” spat Grandma. “But where are the rings, the jewels, the gold and the silver? Last time you brought me an emerald, which I sold for two thousand crowns!”
Louis was stunned. “What?” he stammered. “But I thought…”
By now Grandma was absolutely furious. She was shouting at Louis now. “My other grandchildren always bring me food, but you, you are my favourite. You make me rich. I am the most famous fence in the land!”
Louis tried to recover. “S…s…sorry, G…G…Grandma,” he stammered. “I forgot to put those things in my basket.” Even to him it sounded like a very weak excuse. He noticed that Grandma was now leaning forward suspiciously in the bed.
“Bah! Come closer,” she ordered. “Let me look at you.”
Louis approached just one step and she screwed up her eyes to see him better.
“Oh, Robin, what big eyes you have!” she cried.
“All the better to see you with!” said Louis through gritted teeth.
“And what a big mouth you’ve got!”
“All the better for you to hear me!” cried Louis.
“And what a funny wig you are wearing!”
“So much the worse for you, old woman!” yelled Louis. Furiously he seized hold of her and dragged her through the other door into the cellar. He ignored her screams for help and locked the door.
Colin held Robin back. “Don’t be afraid. She is not hurt, only angry. It will all end well,” he whispered.
“Let me out!” cried Grandma.
“Stop your shouting!” yelled Louis even louder. “No one can hear you. I will let you out very soon, but only if you calm down.”
Grandma shouted a very rude word and then fell silent.
Walking back across the room, Louis took off his hooded cloak and hid it in a corner. He was wearing a pink dress underneath it. Quickly he hopped into the bed, pulling the covers up around his neck, so that only his head was showing with a red bonnet perched on top of his wig.
Colin watched as Robin went outside through a small door at the back of the cottage, and Louis Leloup did not have to wait long before there was a knock on the door.
“Who is it?” squeaked Louis.
“It’s me. Robin.”
“Come in. Come in,” croaked Louis in his best old lady voice.
Robin entered, still wearing his red cloak. He put his basket on the floor.
“Hello, Grandma,” he said cheerfully.
“Hello, my dear,” replied Louis in a muffled voice from the bed.
“How are you, Grandma?” asked Robin.
Louis remained huddled in the bed. “Not so good,” he replied. “Come closer. What have you brought me this time?”
“Two rubies and a gold ring. It helps, if I come here disguised as my sister. No one would think of finding such valuable things in a food basket. You have to be so careful these days. There are so many robbers in the woods.”
Louis, excited, sat up and leaned forward a little. “Rubies and a gold ring? Let me see.”
“Look.” Robin approached the bed and then stopped suddenly. “Oh, Grandma,” he said, “You look rather strange.”
Louis took no notice. “Come a little closer,” he said.
Robin, pretending to hesitate, took another step forward. “I can’t see too clearly in this light, but, Grandma, what big eyes you have!”
“All the better to see you with,” said Louis.
“And what a funny wig!” cried Robin, enjoying the joke.
“I have changed my hairdresser,” replied Louis.
“And, Grandma,” went on Robin, “I hadn’t noticed before…”
“What, my dear?” Louis too was really enjoying the situation.
“What big hairy hands you have!”
“All the better to seize you with!” roared Louis, and he grabbed at Robin awkwardly, hampered by the sheets on the bed. Wrestling furiously, they fell together in a heap on the floor. Wriggling free, Louis stood up and picked up Robin’s valuable basket. He was about to run for the door, when Sammy dashed in front of him so that he tripped and fell down again. Colin immediately caught hold of the sheet and wrapped it around Louis’ head so that he could see nothing, and then held him still with his strong grip until Robin tied the man’s wrists together behind his back with some twine that he had found in his grandmother’s workbasket.
Grandma meanwhile, hearing their voices and the sounds of the scuffle taking place, began shouting again. “Let me out! Let me out!”
“It’s all right, Grandma. You are safe,” called Robin, as he unlocked the cellar door.
“Grandma rushed out and then stood glaring suspiciously at Colin. “Who’s that?” she rasped.
Robin was just saying,” This is my friend Colin,” when she spotted the helpless Louis.
“I know who that is!” she yelled, pointing a bony finger at him. “It’s that weasely snake of a taxman. I forget his name. Let’s lock him in the cellar and see if he likes it!” she crowed.
“No, I have a better idea,” said Robin, and so it was that some time later, after they had entered a secret passageway into Nottingham Castle, Colin led the blindfolded Louis to the foot of the stairs leading up to the sheriff’s quarters. Robin prodded him in the back and ordered him up the steps. “Go, varlet,” he hissed, “before I start getting angry again about how you treated an old lady. Be glad that we are leaving you here.”
Darkness had fallen and the large room was still lit by a roaring fire in the large grate and by the flaming torches on the walls, whilst Colin and Robin, protected by the phoenix bookmark, watched the scene unfold.
The sheriff was pacing anxiously to and fro.
“It’s grows late,” he said.
“Yea, and your friend is late too,” remarked his wife.
“My friend?” fumed the sheriff. “The traitor! No doubt he is at this very moment dining with that fiendish outlaw Robin Hood.”
Mrs. Sheriff sounded truly sad. “He hasn’t succeeded. Poor Louis!”
“Poor?” sneered the sheriff. “That rogue is the richest man in Nottingham.
“Richer than you?”
“Of course. As tax-collector he controls all the taxes, including his own.”
Mrs. Sheriff put a finger to her lips. “Hark! There is someone outside.”
Hesitant footsteps could be heard, then the sound of someone stumbling into things and finally colliding heavily with the closed door. They could also hear muffled oaths such as “Robinthunderinghood!” The sheriff crossed quickly to the door and threw it open. A figure stumbled in, blindfolded and with his hands tied behind his back. Instantly they recognised Louis Leloup.
“What a pretty dress!” sniggered the sheriff.
“Where am I?” aske
d Louis, staggering about blindly around the room, unable to feel his way, as his hands were tied behind his back. “What an accursed castle! I can’t see anything. My lord will have me flogged, when he sees me though. Methinks he is…”
“Take care, Louis,” intervened Mrs. Sheriff, and in a gentle voice she said, “I will help you.” She removed his blindfold and then untied his hands.
Louis stood blinking stupidly in the light. “Oh, my lady, thank you, thank you,” he gasped gratefully, rubbing his wrists and moving his arms to get his circulation going again.
“Well, well!” jeered the Sheriff. “What went wrong this time? Did you go to the wrong cottage? Or even the wrong forest?”
“No, no, my lord!” exclaimed Louis desperately. “For sure I was outnumbered.”
“What? How many of them were there?”
“Er…two,” admitted Louis, who was so frightened that he forgot his usual tactic of lying.
“Two?” roared the sheriff. You mean you went there all alone? Without any guards?”
“Yea, my Lord Sheriff, but…”
The latter, who had so recently boasted to his wife about his cool patience, finally snapped. “You big ninny!” he howled. “You pea-brained poo-brain! You useless goat-dropping! You will pay dearly for this!”
Mrs. Sheriff just sighed to herself, “Oh, not again!” as she saw her husband grab the golf –club from where he had left it in the corner of the room and chase madly after Louis, trying to hit him with it and all the time hurling abuse.
Colin and Robin were hugging themselves in silent laughter, and even Sammy seemed to be smiling, as he wagged his tail.
Once again Colin became aware of the bookmark glowing warmly, so he scooped up Sammy with one hand and put his arm round Robin’s shoulders. The bookmark seemed to pulse and then once again they found themselves outside in the forest.
“Verily, ‘twas well done, Big Colin,” said Robin. “Now come and meet Maid Marion and my merry men.”
