The cart rumbled slowly over the entrance bridge and the outlaws waved merrily at Thomas as he surreptitiously bit into his oatcake.
They were out.
Now they just had to get far enough away from the place before the missing serving girl and dead steward were discovered.
“Even if they do find him,” Allan murmured, leaning back as the cart rumbled onto the rough road, “they have no real reason to blame us. Same with Beth: why would they connect her disappearance with us?”
“They think we’re heading for London anyway,” Robin nodded, “not Barnsdale.”
All three men began to feel a little safer, as the road brought them closer to the forest and freedom, at last, for the little girl hidden in a barrel on the cart behind them.
“You can come out now, Beth,” Robin said as the groaning wagon was finally swallowed up by the thick trees, and he prised the lid off the cask with his dagger.
The little girl smiled shyly at him, blinking in the daylight, and stood up slowly, her legs stiff from hiding in such a cramped place.
“You’re free, lass!” Robin gently lifted Beth out of the barrel and Allan whooped like a little boy, as Wilfred laughed and roared in delight. “We did it!”
A grin spread across Beth’s grubby little face and she looked around, wide eyed, at the outside world she hadn’t seen for so long.
“Now,” she asked, eventually, “can I see my da?”
And she burst into tears.
* * *
Little John and Much headed back to the outlaws’ camp as fast as possible, desperately hoping Robin and Allan-a-Dale would be there to help rescue their friends from Adam Gurdon’s trap.
They were.
Once the road from Lord de Bray’s manor house entered the forest Robin, Allan and Beth had thanked Wilfred and headed back towards Barnsdale, while the baker made his way home to Hathersage.
The girl had struggled to keep up with the fit, hardy young men so they had taken turns to carry her on their backs or shoulders. She laughed as she swatted aside branches, the happy sound making Robin think sadly of his own little sisters – Rebekah who passed away when she was much the same age as Beth, and Marjorie, at home in Wakefield. He missed them both, and his heart ached as he thought of them, but Beth’s simple joy at being free was infectious and his mood soon lifted.
John and Much returned to the camp and dismounted noisily, tying the horses to the branch of a slim young beech tree before hurrying over to see Robin and Allan.
Robin grinned as he saw his two friends approaching and, holding Beth by the hands, he spun the squealing child round in a circle.
“Who’s this?” John asked, glancing at Much who shrugged his shoulders in bafflement.
“This,” Robin replied, still smiling, “is Elizabeth. Will’s daughter!”
John looked at the beaming little girl, his eyes wide, and puffed his cheeks out in astonishment.
Robin finally realised something wasn’t right as his eyes took in the deserted outlaws’ camp and the two palfreys. “Where is everyone? What’s happened?”
“Bad news,” Much told his boyhood companion. “Adam’s arrested Matilda” –
“What?” Robin roared, making Beth flinch back in fright to stand, wide-eyed, next to Allan who patted her arm reassuringly. “Why? Where’s he taking her? I’ll kill the bastard!”
Little John nodded, understanding his friend’s outrage. “He’s taking Matilda to Nottingham, but we have another problem: we know his men are going to ambush Will and the rest of the lads at Hampole Dyke while he takes another route to the city. We have to warn them.”
Robin swore. “I have to go after Matilda!”
John shook his head firmly. “You can’t, we need to help the others or they’ll be butchered.”
“You three go on and warn Will and the rest, then” – Robin started, but John cut him off with another shake of his wild brown hair.
“You can’t take on Adam on your own, he’ll have foresters with him; it’d be suicide. You have to come with us. We’ll stop the ambush and then we can all go after Matilda.”
Much placed a consoling hand on Robin’s arm. “John’s right. Adam doesn’t know we’ve found out about his plan, so he won’t be in any great hurry to get to Nottingham. We can catch him up once we help the others.”
Robin cursed again, but he knew his friends spoke the truth. “Alright,” he growled, “but we’ve walked all the way from Hathersage today. Me and Allan will take the horses if that’s okay? Beth can climb up with me – we can’t leave her here.”
John grinned and rubbed his backside which ached even from the relatively short ride from Wakefield. “Aye, fair enough, my arse is killing me anyway.”
The one thing in their favour was the fact Adam and his men would be expecting all the outlaws to blunder into their trap. If Robin and the others couldn’t make it in time to stop the ambush, they might at least be able to help their friends fight their way out alive.
“If we can figure out exactly where they’ll spring the ambush we can work our way to their rear and hit them one by one,” Robin suggested.
John nodded thoughtfully as he kept pace with the trotting horses. “Aye, they won’t have a clue how many of us there are behind them, so if we can take out a few of them the rest might panic.”
Robin expected Adam’s men would take up positions in the trees either side of Hampole Dyke and strike while the outlaws were crossing the water, out in the open with no cover and nowhere to run, where they could pick them off with their longbows.
“We’d be better splitting up” – he decided – “since we have the horses. Me and Allan can go on ahead and cross the river upstream at one of the other fords. We can work our way round behind the dyke and hit them from that side while you and Much come at the ones on this side of the water.”
It was a good plan, and everyone was happy to go along with it, so Robin helped Beth climb off the horse and onto Little John’s shoulders.
“How’d you like your new steed?” Robin smiled at the girl.
“Smellier than the horse,” Allan grimaced. “Hairier too.”
“Shut it you little prick”- John clapped a hand over his mouth as Beth burst out laughing. “Pardon my language, lass,” he grinned sheepishly.
“Right, let’s get a move on,” Robin, impatient to get after Matilda, looked over at Allan, and they headed towards the river’s edge where the horses could move faster. “See you in a while, lads!”
As Much and Little John neared the Hampole Dyke John lifted Beth down and hid her near a great old oak tree, telling her to wait there on their return.
“What if something happens to you?” the girl asked, her face screwing up anxiously, as if she were about to cry.
“Look at the size of me!” John replied, smiling reassuringly. “Do you think anyone’s going to harm me?” He stood up, his massive frame towering over her, a fierce look on his face, and the girl giggled. “If no one comes for you before it starts to get dark,” he laughed, ruffling her hair, “head towards the river and follow it downstream for half a mile. There’s a cottage there. It’s not too far and you’ll be safe. Just tell them Little John sent you.”
Beth nodded at the bearded giant uncertainly, and the two men set off towards the ford, only a few minutes jog away, moving silently through the undergrowth at the side of the path.
As they neared the river, the sound of men shouting filled the air and Much groaned. “Adam’s men must have sprung their trap, we may be too late!”
“The noise will help us,” John replied resolutely. “We can sneak up on the foresters without them hearing us coming. Let’s split up. You go left, I’ll take the right. No prisoners.” He looked his companion in the eyes and hefted his quarterstaff grimly as Much nervously drew his sword, crossing himself for luck.
As they moved off in their separate directions Robin and Allan had worked their way across the river. After safely tying the horses and spli
tting up as John and Much had done, they were now creeping through the undergrowth looking for signs of Gurdon’s foresters. The shouts from the battle were strangely muted and Robin wondered what was happening. Were Will and his men already dead? Had Adam Gurdon’s ambush worked to such devastating effect that the outlaws had succumbed in so short a time?
He carried on through the trees, heart thumping nervously, towards the river.
As he got closer he realised Gurdon’s foresters, lacking his expert leadership, must have attacked too soon, allowing Will, Tuck and the rest of the outlaws to find cover behind the old collapsed bridge. There was the ping of a longbow to his right, from under a big beech tree, its green summer foliage almost entirely lost, and he inched his way towards the noise. A forester, oblivious to the danger creeping up on him, was fitting another arrow to his string. Robin swiftly came up behind him, and thrust his sword powerfully into the man’s back.
The forester fell with a cry of pain and disbelief, blood bubbling from his mouth, as Robin withdrew his blade and listened for signs of more foresters. He moved on again as he heard another bow being fired somewhere close to the left.
There were two men this time, standing side by side, and the young outlaw knew he would have to work fast.
Throwing caution to the wind he made straight for the pair, who were intent on Will Scarlet and the outlaws pinned down with seemingly no escape route. Robin could see Will, face red with rage and frustration, shouting obscenities about Adam Gurdon.
As he came up behind them, one of the foresters began to turn towards Robin, so he lunged forward, swinging his sword savagely into the man’s neck, almost decapitating him.
“Attack! We’re under attack!” the second man screamed, dropping his bow and fumbling for his sword, but he was too slow, and Robin much too fast.
The outlaw calmly stepped over the corpse of the man he had just killed and chopped his blade down into the arm of the shouting forester, feeling the bones crunch.
The man’s shout changed from a warning to a scream of pain, until Robin slammed the pommel of his sword into his mouth, smashing teeth and bone. As the forester fell back, eyes wide in horror, Robin shoved his blade deep into the man’s guts and disappeared into the trees again.
From some distance to the right another cry went up, swiftly silenced, then, a few moments later, another shout of alarm came from amongst the trees on the other side of the river. This lasted longer, a cry of terrible pain and slow death. John must have left someone half alive Robin realised, to spread fear among the foresters.
It was a brutal but effective tactic, as Gurdon’s men began shouting to each other across the water, wondering what the hell was going on, and who was attacking them from within the trees.
“Will!” Robin roared towards the ford when there was a brief few moments of quiet. “It’s Robin Hood! I’ve brought the rest of the men – we’ve circled the bastards! Prepare to leave your cover and attack; we’ll smash them between us!”
By now, the outlying foresters had begun to panic and make their way from both sides of the river towards the clearing near the ford, giving up their hiding places, and cover, amongst the trees in order to find their captain who had positioned himself there to direct the ambush.
One forester came close to Robin so he quickly fitted an arrow to his longbow and fired it into the man’s backside. His agonised roars of pain as he stumbled towards his companions only served to spread the alarm among the foresters even further.
Allan-a-Dale moved into view and Robin crept to join him.
“What now?” Allan wondered. “Looks like there’s only about ten of them left, all shitting themselves.”
Robin had no desire to cut down these men. The foresters weren’t, for the most part, trained soldiers, just decent local men, who normally didn’t find themselves caught up in a pitched battle with a squad of hardened outlaws.
“Will!” Robin shouted.
“Aye!” came the eager reply from the other side of the great fallen tree.
“Hold, for now!”
“What?” Scarlet was ready to unleash the fury that had built up inside him. He stood, grasping his sword, as Tuck tried to restrain him.
Little John jogged through the trees his eyes shining with adrenaline as he raised his enormous bow and fixed it on the frightened foresters who were milling about around the ford, clearly lacking any real concrete leadership, swords held out desperately before them. Much appeared like a ghost from the undergrowth and, aiming his own longbow, took up position beside his giant friend.
“You men! Adam Gurdon’s foresters!” Robin roared. “Either we can cut you down like wheat during harvest, or you can throw down your weapons and live. I know the bailiff isn’t with you. We have no quarrel with you.”
The foresters, knowing they were utterly beaten, slowly began to put down their swords, as the one who appeared to be in charge, an overweight, balding middle-aged man, shouted in reply, “My name is Samuel. We surrender Hood. I only hope you men are as honourable as the villagers around here seem to think.”
Robin nodded thankfully to himself. “Will! Tell the men to collect those weapons and make sure the foresters are subdued. Peacefully! We’ll keep you covered until it’s done.”
Little John patted Robin on the back. “That was nicely done, lad. Those men are indebted to us now. Looks like we got here just in time.”
As Friar Tuck and the rest of the outlaws moved onto the ford and began taking the dropped swords, staffs and longbows, Will Scarlet screamed in rage and flew towards the foresters.
“Where the fuck is that bastard Gurdon?”
The brawny forester, Samuel, seeing Will’s intent, quickly retrieved his sword from the ground and started to rise, bringing the weapon up to defend himself.
The outlaws watched in horror as Will, moving too fast to stop himself, ran straight onto Samuel’s blade.
“No!” Robin burst from the trees and raced forward to restrain the rest of the men. “No more killing!”
He looked forbiddingly into Samuel’s eyes and the big man, a frightened look on his face, pulled the sword from Will’s side. “Drop it, and you and your men can be on your way.”
The forester nodded. He placed his bloodied sword back on the ground, beside the stricken Will Scarlet, who lay in the icy shallow water, eyes staring straight up at the cloudy afternoon sky.
“John, Tuck! Get Will out of the water! The rest of you, finish collecting those weapons. You foresters, sit on the bank, make no threatening moves and you have my word, no one else will raise a hand to you.” He stared around at the men, eyes blazing, hand on his own sword hilt.
The power in the young man’s voice was unmistakable, and everyone moved to follow his instructions.
“Will,” Robin said gently, when Little John and Friar Tuck had lowered him onto the dry riverbank.
“I’m sorry, Hood. You knew my temper would kill me one day. I’ve lost so much in my life . . .” Will shuddered, grimacing in pain and clutching the wound in his side as a tear squeezed from between his eyelids. “All I have left is death and vengeance and . . . I won’t even get my revenge on those bastards now: Adam and the bastard that took my family . . .” His eyes closed and he shook his head weakly.
Tuck knelt down and examined the wound in Will’s side. “It’s impossible to tell what damage has been done internally, but . . .” He looked up at Robin and shrugged his wide shoulders hopelessly.
Just then, the sound of running footsteps reached them, and little Beth burst into view through the sparse autumn foliage. She saw Robin and broke into a smile, making her way over to him, then her face crumpled as she saw Will, blood caking his side, his skin deathly pale. But his eyes fluttered open briefly, just as Beth screamed, “Daddy!”
* * *
Sir Richard-at-Lee and his two companions made good time, pushing their horses to their limits, and reaching Hull late in the afternoon the day after leaving Kirklees.
T
hey paid for their mounts to be looked after in a stable near the town gatehouse and made their way to the harbour, which seemed loud and crowded after their journey on the near deserted road.
Shouting sailors loaded crates and barrels onto ships, fishmongers hawked their freshly caught wares from stinking stalls, blood and fish guts littered the ground in some areas making young Simon in particular feel like puking and prostitutes of all ages and nationalities showed their wares with varying degrees of enthusiasm.
Sir Richard asked a few questions and, eventually, a ship bound for Cyprus, the la Maudelyn, was located. They made their way aboard, meeting the captain on deck, and passage was booked for Simon. The captain told them, however, he still had much of his cargo to load, so they wouldn’t be leaving until dawn the following day.
“My son has to leave tonight,” the big Hospitaller told the sailor, a man similar to his own age, who shrugged and spread his hands wide.
“Sorry, my lord. I’ve told the men they can spend the night drinking and whoring in the town – there’d be a mutiny if I told them I’d changed my mind just so some rich boy could leave early.”
Sir Richard laughed sardonically at the idea they were rich, given the debt he owed to Abbott Ness, but he pulled a small bag of silver from his pouch and emptied it on the table. “Tell your men they can drink and fuck in Cyprus. You leave tonight.”
The captain glanced at the money. In truth, it wasn’t all that much – the Hospitaller simply couldn’t afford any more – but it was still a substantial amount and his men had already spent a few days in the town anyway, frittering away their pay. Besides, this big knight with the thick neck and bushy grey beard didn’t look like a man to haggle with.
He smiled. “You have a deal, my lord. Once the ship is loaded, we’ll leave. Take yourselves off to one of the local taverns – I can recommend the Dog and Duck, just a few yards that way – and come back in a couple of hours. We’ll be ready to cast off by then.”
Wolf's Head (The Forest Lord) Page 17
