Maid of Sherwood

by Shanti Krishnamurty

  “She does not understand,” a young voice whispered.

  “Should we tell her the truth?” Boyish laughter followed the question.

  “We are not allowed to, remember?”

  Marian glanced around her. The only people in the hall were servants, carrying empty platters from the Great Hall.

  There was another burst of laughter.

  “Did you hear that?” Marian stopped a passing servant with a hand on his arm.

  He nodded. “It is the ghosts, milady. They always babble more when the prince is in residence.”

  “What ghosts?”

  “You do not know, milady? This place is haunted.” He lowered his voice. “It is a fact that the boys were murdered, right here in the castle.”

  “Yes,” a young voice agreed. “Murdered. Taken from our beds…”

  The servant pulled away from Marian. “Excuse me, milady. I have already said more than I should about it.”

  “Hidden secrets,” multiple voices whispered. “More than she knows.” There was another burst of high pitched laughter.

  “Be careful,” the servant threw the warning over his shoulder. “Be sure to stay away from the battlements. The boys seem to like you, but their sense of humor can be deadly.”

  The ghosts laughed again but this time the laughter seemed sinister. The sound sent a shiver down Marian’s spine.

  “You scared her.”An older boy’s voice stated. “You shall have to answer to them. They want her to stay.”

  There was no response. Marian gathered her skirts in one hand and ran down the hall and up the stairs to her suite of rooms. Only once she was inside, with the doors shut firmly behind her, did she lean back against them and close her eyes.

  “Will was right,” she whispered incredulously. “They actually exist.”

  There was only one place she could think of to go next, and it was not to her bedchamber. Opening the doors once more, she slipped out and down the halls toward the chapel.

  Chapter Thirteen:

  Two robed figures knelt in front of the large wooden cross. Marian bowed her head respectfully and walked to the front of the chapel. She knelt, closing her eyes.

  “Help me, Lord,” she whispered.

  “May I be of some service?”

  Marian met the gaze of the friar next to her, a slight smile on his wrinkled face. She shook her head. “No, Friar. I could not sleep, so I thought I would come here to pray.”

  “I can pray with you, my lady. What troubles you?”

  Marian bit the corner of her lip. “I am new to the castle,” she said. “It is a bit overwhelming.”

  “Father, it is late,” the second friar said. “Go to bed. I will take your place in prayer.”

  Marian had to look up to meet the second friar’s startlingly green eyes. He smiled, his teeth white in his deeply tanned face.

  “Thank you, my son.” The elder man got slowly to his feet, bones creaking loudly in the quiet. “May He bless you, child.” He made the sign of the cross in the air before Marian, shuffled down the aisle and out the chapel door.

  “There was only one family summoned to the castle recently,” the remaining friar said. “You would be the Lady Marian du Luc, correct?”

  “I—yes. How did you know?”

  The friar rose to his feet. “My name is Friar Tuck. I believe we have a mutual friend outside these walls.”

  “How do I know you are who you say you are?” Marian asked suspiciously.

  “You are questioning whether I am a friar?” The man asked.

  “You do not look like a man of the cloth.” She stared at him, arms crossed. He was tall, with well muscled forearms. He looked everything like a swordsman and nothing like she expected a friar to look.

  “Is that all?” Tuck laughed. “I was not born a friar, Lady Marian.” He knelt in front of her, his hands resting on his knees. “I will not bore you with an account of my misdeeds, or what path led me to this one. Suffice to say, I am a friar, albeit one whose questionable temper made my superior give me this,” he paused for a moment before continuing, “perfectly lovely assignment.”

  “That does not explain your belief of a mutual friend.”

  Tuck shook his head. “He never told me you were so suspicious. Very well, what ‘proof’ would you accept of my claim?”

  “Tell me something only our mutual friend would know.”

  “When he sent me word of your impending arrival, he also told me of your meeting with Nottingham’s historian and of the sword fight you lost.”

  “I did not lose,” Marian snapped. “She distracted me!”

  The friar laughed. “So…proof enough for you, then?”

  Marian nodded. There was no way Tuck would know of the incident, save from Robin’s men. It was proof she could accept.

  “Now that you believe I am who I claim to be, is there something specific I can help you with?” Tuck asked.

  Marian sighed. “It is everything. Prince John believes I know the whereabouts of a sword I never believed existed, my mother is hiding something, and there are ghosts in the castle. I feel like I do not fit in here.”

  Tuck smiled and seated himself next to her. “You do not fit in,” he said bluntly. “You are royalty that is not royal. That is a rarity, especially here.” He shook his head. “As a man of the cloth, I cannot reveal anything I have been told in confidence, even if it is pertinent to you and yours. It would violate everything I believe in. However,” he placed one hand over Marian’s. “I think you would find great comfort in the gardens tomorrow, should you choose to explore them. The maze is especially nice this time of year. You can see many different kinds of birds if you look hard enough.”

  She peered at him. “Are you saying…”

  “I am saying you should go see the gardens.” Tuck repeated. “Certain birds tend to appear unexpectedly.” He glanced up at the stained glass windows. “It will be light soon. You should return to your rooms.”

  “Thank you, Friar.” She returned to her rooms through halls already full of servants rubbing at their eyes as they began their daily chores. It was nearly dawn.

  “Marian, have you been gone all night?” Mother’s voice greeted her when Marian opened the doors to their suite. “You had us worried sick.”

  “Yes, Marian, we are waiting for an explanation.” Father crossed sinewy arms over his chest.

  “I—I did not think you would miss me,” Marian stuttered. “I could not sleep, so I went to the chapel to pray.”

  “And you did not think to wake Anna and take her with you?” Mother shook her head. “Marian du Luc, what were you thinking?”

  Marian lowered her eyes to the ground. “I was thinking I did not need her,” she mumbled at her feet.

  “She is to go wherever you go, Marian,” Father said.

  “You cannot behave as you did at home.” Mother tugged the belt on her dressing gown, tightening it. “Your behavior is unacceptable.”

  “Unacceptable to you, you mean.” Marian raised her eyes to meet Mother’s steady hazel gaze.

  “It is unacceptable to everyone, Marian,” Father said sharply. “You owe your mother an apology.”

  “Am I allowed to go the chapel at all?”

  “Of course you are,” Mother said. “As long as you and Anna go there together.”

  Realizing Mother could ban her from any small freedoms, Marian bowed to the inevitable. “I am sorry, Mother. I should not have left without Anna.”

  Mother stared at her for a long moment before she spoke. “Go to bed, Marian. You look tired. Once you are rested, come to the gardens. They are lovely this time of year and you should not miss them.”

  “Do not,” Father instructed, “forget to bring Anna with you. She is in the kitchens.”

  Marian nodded sleepily, yawning behind her hand as she walked across the room to her suite.

  Chapter Fourteen:

  Later that afternoon, Marian stared at the gardens in abundant summertime bloom, lords
and ladies already walking among the perfectly shaped hedges.

  They looked glorious, but crowded with people. Anna hovered at her elbow, her eyes wide. “I never thought I would see castle gardens,” she said. “They are beautiful.”

  Marian agreed. She just wished she could wander through them without a maid at her elbow. It was apparent she was not the only young woman who felt that way, either. Maids scurried after their mistresses, who hurried along without regard for their young chaperones. She had two choices. See the gardens with Anna, or spend the day sitting on a bench. Taking a deep breath, she let it out slowly and spoke. “Let us go see the maze garden.”

  A low stone wall, honeysuckle draped over it like a blanket, edged the footpath leading to the garden maze. Blackbirds and small gray sparrows flitted among the cherry trees and rose bushes, dislodging petals of pink, white and blue, sending them cascading to the ground. Marian gazed around in delight. Firethorn bushes lined both sides of the footpath, far enough back from the wall to prevent accidental injuries. Bees and butterflies flew from flower to flower, collecting pollen.

  “I have never seen anything like this,” Anna said, her voice low. “Why are so few people here, though?”

  Marian glanced around. The further they walked from the castle and the formal gardens, the less people there were. Was the maze that uninteresting? She could see the start of it up ahead, the yews rising into the air beyond the wide stone archway.

  “I—I do not think I can go in there,” Anna stared through the stone arch. “Those trees are awfully high.”

  Marian turned to stare at her maid. “You live on the edge of Sherwood,” she said. “Surely you are not scared of a few trees.”

  Anna shook her head. “It is not the trees that scare me. But look how close together they are.”

  It was lovely. True, the yews looked so close together she would have to walk sideways in some places, but that hardly bothered Marian. She looked at Anna again. The girl was almost shivering in fear, arms hugged close to her chest.

  “I know you are supposed to go with me,” Marian began slowly.

  Tears formed in the maid’s eyes. “I am sorry, Lady Marian, but I cannot. I just cannot. The trees, they are too...big.”

  “They are not any larger than the trees in Sherwood,” Marian said.

  “They look huge,” Anna shook her head. “Please do not make me go in there.”

  “It will be all right, Anna. I shall explain it to Mother. Go back to the gardens and wait for me there I should not be too long.”

  “Thank you.” The young girl turned away from the stone arch and almost ran back toward the castle.

  Marian released a sigh. Without a backward glance, she walked through the arch and entered the narrow corridor of yew trees.

  The trees closed around Marian. It was comforting and reminded her of home. She stepped deeper into the maze, the sleeves of her blue linen gown catching on the closeness of the yew trees limbs. Laughter echoed through the maze, though she could not tell where it came from. The air was cool, the heavy scent of honeysuckle blanketing the maze. The path ahead of her split, curving both left and right. She was sure the left-hand path would lead to the center of the maze eventually. Smiling to herself, she walked around the right hand curve instead.

  “I half expected you to take the other path,” the young man in front of her said, seeming to appear out of nowhere.

  Marian swallowed her scream. “Robin, you nearly scared me to death!”

  He lifted his head so she could see him under the hood of the friar’s robe he wore. “Sorry,” he said unrepentantly.

  “What on earth are you doing here? And why are you dressed like that?”

  “I came to see you, of course.”

  She blushed at the thought. “If Prince John catches you—”

  He finished her sentence. “I will spend my better years in his dungeon, if he does not outright kill me for my crimes.”

  “What if someone sees us together?” Her heart leapt at the thought.

  “The parapets are empty, see?” He pointed up and over the yew trees.

  No-one was standing at the castle walls, looking down. “Can they really see into the maze from there?”

  Robin nodded. He took her hand in his. “Come on, the path widens a bit further in.”

  Marian followed him through the curves and twists until they reached a dead-end covered in honeysuckle. “How do you know so much about the maze?”

  “King Richard had the maze planted when he was made heir apparent to the throne.” Robin turned to frown at her. “I am surprised you do not know this. Your town’s Master Carpenter worked on the bridges.”

  “What bridges?”

  Robin brushed aside the clinging vine to reveal a dark passageway. “The bridges in the garden, of course. King Richard wanted to make sure his court could find their way out of the maze without too much trouble. He had the Master Carpenter build bridges so people in the maze could see where they were.”

  “What was the passageway for?” Marian asked.

  Robin shrugged. “I have no idea, but it leads straight into Sherwood Forest.”

  She peered into the inky corridor. “Is this how you got here?”

  “Yes,” Robin said. “Now step inside and be careful. There are three steps in front of you.”

  Marian stepped into the passageway and down, the sharp scent of dirt tickling her nose. Darkness closed around her as Robin let the honeysuckle vine fall back into place.

  She felt him take her hands in his. “I have a favor to ask of you, Marian, but it is not without risk.”

  She could not control the excitement that colored her words. “What is it?”

  “One of my men has learned of a rumor that the sheriff is planning to steal the throne from under Prince John.”

  “But—it is not Prince John’s throne,” Marian said.

  “No, it is not. But neither John nor the sheriff care about such trivialities.”

  She could barely see the shape of his face in the dim light. “Are you telling me Prince John wants King Richard’s throne?”

  He nodded. “I think so, but my source in the castle has certain restrictions which limit his usefulness. That is where I need your help.”

  “I do not know what help I can be, but I am willing to try.”

  “I need you to learn everything you can about the prince’s plans,” Robin said earnestly.

  Marian hesitated. “You…want me to spy on Prince John?”

  “I would not use the word ‘spy’,” Robin disagreed. “Just listen for any information you think might be pertinent to us. If you overhear anything, pass it on to Tuck. He will see it gets to me.”

  “Is there a reason I cannot give it to you directly?” Marian asked.

  Robin’s voice softened. “I will not risk your safety.” He let go of Marian’s hands and she felt his fingertips briefly against her cheek.

  Marian peered at him in the dim light. “Robin, I—”

  He cut her off, placing one hand over her mouth. “Shhh…listen. Someone is coming.”

  “I was told I could find the Lady Marian inside. Are you quite sure you have not seen her?”

  The voice shocked Marian, and she spoke against his palm. “Why is she looking for me?”

  “I have no idea,” Robin said.

  “No, Lady Nyneve,” they heard a man’s deep voice answer. “But there are many paths. Have you tried looking from one of the bridges?”

  “Not yet.” The woman’s voice quavered. “If you will go check and come find me in the castle afterward, that would be most helpful. I fear my aged bones are aching more than usual today.”

  “As you like.” The deep voice responded. Both voices faded as they moved farther away from Robin and Marian’s hiding place.

  Robin removed his hand from Marian’s mouth and quirked an eyebrow. “Why is Nyneve looking for you?”

  “Maybe she is trying to find Father,” Marian said. “I cannot thi
nk of why else she would care about me.”

  Robin pushed the honeysuckle aside and gestured Marian before him. “I asked her once to join the Merry Men, but she just laughed at me. Said she was here to watch history, not make it. She is a bit odd, but harmless.”

  Marian squinted in the daylight. “But why would a historian need to see me? What could I possibly tell her?”

  “That is an interesting question to ask of a friar.”

  Marian whirled around and came face to face with the owner of the voice, who stepped backwards.

  “Peace, child.” White gold hair flowed over the slightly stooped shoulders of an old woman. Gray eyes so light they looked sun bleached met Marian’s. “I have been looking for the friar on a matter of some importance.” A slight smile curved her lips. “I am afraid I used your name as an excuse to search the maze, Lady Marian. I do hope you will forgive me, but I need to speak with him without your presence.”

  “Marian knows who I am, Nyneve,” Robin stated. “She can stay, if she wishes.”

  The old woman shook her head. “I am afraid I must insist on privacy, ‘Friar’. This matter is too important.”

  Robin turned to Marian. “I am sorry we could not spend our time more pleasantly, Marian.”

  Marian’s cheeks flushed at the way his voice caressed her name. “So am I.”

  “All right, you have said your farewells, lovebirds. You can pledge your troth later. Robin, pull your cowl up. Lady Marian, go away.” Nyneve took Robin’s arm and lead him away, leaving Marian to stand in the maze, alone.

  The honeysuckle brushed against the shoulders of Marian’s gown. Whatever other name Robin called it, she had just agreed to spy on the Sheriff of Nottingham and the Prince of England. Suddenly, the quiet of the maze was too quiet. Her skin began to crawl as she imagined others, more influential than her, doing what she had agreed to do…but with her family as the target. And it was obvious Mother and Father had secrets to hide; secrets they did not want anyone else to know about. There was only one place Marian could gather her thoughts without being bothered; one place where no-one would look for her.