by N B Dixon
Ursula’s stomach rumbled in response, but she shook her head. “I haven’t any money.”
The young woman eyed her up and down. “You’re a stranger here, aren’t you? Who are you looking for?”
Ursula hesitated. David had said in response to her message that he would meet her at the Blue Boar and that the owners were trusted friends of the outlaws.
“My brother David,” she said finally
The woman’s face gave nothing away. Her voice was still light and friendly. “What does he look like?”
“He’s one of Robin Hood’s men.” It was what she’d been told to say. Ursula prayed she hadn’t made a terrible mistake. What if this was the wrong tavern? Perhaps David hadn’t meant the Blue Boar in Locksley. Maybe there was another tavern with that name elsewhere.
To her relief, the woman smiled.
“You come and sit yourself down, then. I’ll bring you a bowl of stew. Don’t worry about the money.”
She settled Ursula in a distant corner and bustled off. Within a few minutes, a serving girl placed a steaming bowl of stew, together with a small loaf of rye bread, on the table. There was a mug of ale to go with it.
Ursula tucked in. The food was delicious. Her eyes continually darted to the door, and she shifted on her stool. Where was David? She could not be away too long. Sometimes, she thought the musician might be watching her, but whenever she glanced his way, his eyes were always fixed on his fingers as they danced over the strings of his lute.
Ursula had finished her meal and drained the last of her ale when she saw him. A man sidled through the tavern door. He was dressed in a tunic and cloak of forest green, and his hood was up.
The moment he entered, the woman who had led Ursula to a table accosted him. They had a brief conversation, and the man began wending his way through the packed tables towards her. As he neared her, he lowered his hood.
Ursula jumped to her feet and the two of them hugged. “I thought you weren’t coming.”
“I had to stop off and see the priest. One of the men is sick and needs medicine.”
The woman returned with stew and ale for David. He waited till she had moved away.
“What’s so urgent?”
“It’s the Lady Marian. She is to marry the Sheriff of Nottingham next week. It’s all arranged.”
“So?”
Ursula gave him an exasperated look. “She’s a noble woman, the only daughter of the Earl of Huntingdon, a Ward of the Crown. She has no say in her future. Prince John has given his permission for the wedding.”
“I still don’t see what this has to do with—”
“She wants Robin to help her escape.”
David choked on his next mouthful of ale. “She expects him to march into Nottingham Castle and fetch her out? He’d be killed before he got near.”
“She doesn’t want his help getting out of the castle, she just needs a safe place to go, and an escort to get there. He owes her. She helped him escape when he was arrested at the archery tournament.”
“So it’s her fault I’m stuck with this band of cutthroats.”
“At least you’re alive,” Ursula pointed out. “They can’t be all bad.”
“Robin won’t help her,” he said.
“Shouldn’t Robin make that decision?”
“He’ll say no.”
“Take me to him, please. Lady Marian is desperate.”
David gaped at her. “Are you mad? What do you think he’d do to me if I showed up with you?”
“You’re afraid of him, aren’t you?”
“Of course not.”
He was lying. He’d never been able to keep anything from her. She stared at him in silence, waiting.
He heaved a defeated sigh. “I’ll have to blindfold you.”
***
Sherwood was vast. The forest was so dense in places, it was virtually impassable. Ursula soon lost any sense of where she was. One tree looked much like another. As they walked, she battled with a growing sense of being closed in and lost for ever more. She made a few attempts at conversation, but met with only monosyllabic answers.
At long last, David halted. Ursula looked around her, but the forest appeared no different.
“Are we here?”
“Not yet. I need to blindfold you.”
He took a piece of green cloth from his belt. Ursula’s immediate instinct was to refuse. With her eyes covered, she would be defenceless in this hostile environment. But she had agreed. She forced herself to remain still as David secured the cloth across her eyes. He took her hand.
It felt different than she remembered—rough and callused from life in the forest. There was a time when his skin had been smooth as silk. He’d always been more comfortable holding a quill than a sickle or sword. It was the village priest who had taught him Latin and recommended him to the monastery where everything had gone wrong.
“Tell me more about the outlaws.”
“I told you, most of them treat me as though I am something less than human.”
“What about Robin Hood?”
“He’s in love with Will Scathelock.”
This was the last thing Ursula had expected to hear. She stumbled over an unseen tree root, and only David’s grip on her kept her from falling. “How do you know?”
“He stares at him when he thinks no one is looking.”
Ursula wondered what Lady Marian would say if she knew the object of her affections lusted after men.
“You told me once this Will Scathelock was kind to you.”
“He only sees Robin.”
The bitterness in David’s voice caused a faint alarm bell to sound in Ursula’s brain.
“David, don’t do anything stupid. After last time—”
“We’re nearly here.” David pulled her to a stop. Then he made a sound remarkably like the call of an owl. Faintly, a reply came.
“We are expected.” David led her on a little further. The smell of wood smoke reached Ursula’s nostrils. She had the sense that the forest was opening up around her. Finally, they stopped. David reached up and removed her blindfold.
She stood in a forest clearing bathed in firelight. It looked no different than any clearing in Sherwood, but it was clearly a home. She saw several rough pallets that she presumed were beds. A few hobbled horses grazed close by, and the men sat around the fire on rough-hewn logs. The nearest to her was a giant; he was eating what looked like roasted rabbit, tearing chunks away with his teeth. A woman was perched on the log beside him, her red hair gleaming in the firelight. The giant had his arm around her.
A boy in his mid-teens was fletching arrows under the careful guidance of an older man. Another man with long hair pulled back in a tail was sharpening his dagger on a hand-held whetstone. The sound of metal against stone set Ursula’s teeth on edge. A small, wiry man had several leather pouches on the ground before him and was sorting through the contents.
The man who drew her eyes, however, was young. His black hair was untidy and fell raggedly beneath his jaw. He was staring into the fire as though unaware of any of the others around him, yet as David and Ursula entered the camp, he got to his feet.
“Who is this?”
David opened his mouth, but Ursula was already speaking. “You’re Robin Hood?”
“I am.”
“I am Lady Marian’s maid. She sent me with a message for you.”
The rest of the men had all stopped what they were doing. They exchanged glances ranging from curious to uneasy.
“What does Lady Marian want with me?”
Ursula had expected the coarse accent belonging to the peasant folk who lived in these parts, but Robin was surprisingly well spoken. She knew the stories of Robin Hood, that he was rumoured to be a nobleman, but she’d never really believed it. The man’s clothes were certainly far from new, and he was in serious need of a shave, but there was nothing uncouth about him. His gaze was direct, though it gave nothing away.
“Lady Marian inte
nds to flee Nottingham Castle. She is being forced to marry Guy of Gisborne, and she needs your help.”
“What the bloody hell does she think we can do?” the giant demanded. The woman next to him, presumably his wife, dug her elbow into his ribs.
“She doesn’t wish your help in getting out of the castle; she only hoped that you would know of somewhere she can shelter that will be safe from the sheriff. The wedding is set for next Sunday.”
“And why should I get involved?” Robin’s expression was pleasant, but there was a cool edge to his voice that was not lost on Ursula. “The last time we met, your lady had several of Gisborne’s men hot on her tail. One of my companions was wounded.” He indicated the older man. “I see no reason why I should risk myself or my men for a marriage that is none of my concern.”
Ursula took a deep breath. Her voice shook a little. “She says you owe her for services rendered. It was she who enabled you to escape Nottingham Castle.”
Robin regarded her in silence. Ursula fought the urge to step back from him.
“I see,” he said finally. He turned to his men. “Does anyone have a suggestion?”
“Kirklees Abbey,” the older man said. “The nuns would take her in, I’m sure. I could ride over there in the morning.”
Robin nodded. “But not you. Someone else can go. You’ve been ill and you’re still not recovered.”
The man looked as if he might protest, but the outlaw with the dagger got in first. “What’s to stop Gisborne from dragging her out? It won’t take a genius to work out where she’s gone. There’s nowhere else she could hide.”
“He’d be breaking the laws of sanctuary,” the woman pointed out.
“Since when has that stopped Gisborne?” her husband rumbled. “He makes his own law.”
“It will do for the time being,” the older man said. “As Will says, there’s nowhere else.”
So the man with the dagger was Will Scathelock. He was handsome, Ursula had to admit. David had moved to sit beside him, leaving her where she stood. It was as if he were drawn to him, though apparently, no one else could see it. Apart from Robin’s greeting, they ignored him.
“I don’t understand,” the boy said. “I thought Martin helped Robin escape. What had Lady Marian to do with it?”
“So he did.” Robin turned to Ursula.
“It was my mistress who caused a distraction. She shot the sentry and sent the soldiers into a panic. In the confusion, Martin was able to get you out.”
“She murdered a sentry?” the wiry little man whistled. “She must really have taken a fancy to you, Robin.”
Robin ignored him. “You may tell your lady that I will help, but after this, she can consider us even.”
Ursula nodded, her shoulders slumping with relief. She had been afraid he would refuse.
The woman beckoned Ursula to the fire. “Come and have some ale.”
Ursula took the skin gratefully. The woman introduced herself as Daphne, and quickly ran through the names of the others. When everyone was settled with a drink, Robin addressed Ursula.
“How does your lady plan to get out of the castle?”
“I don’t know.”
“Isn’t that a problem?” Will Scathelock said.
“It’s obvious.” Daphne was matter-of-fact. “They can leave disguised as nuns.” She turned to Ursula. “I can ride over to the abbey and pick up a couple of habits. Meet me in the market place and I’ll pass them on. You’ll need a story to explain why you’re at the castle, but I’m sure your lady can think of something.”
Everyone stared at her. Ursula had to admit, it was a good idea. She and Lady Marian could not leave the castle without some form of disguise. She nodded.
Robin drained his ale. “Very well. Tell her I shall meet her at the Blue Boar tavern in three days at noon. Mind, if she is not there, I won’t wait for her. I cannot risk showing my face at that tavern too regularly. She will have one chance.”
“I will tell her. I’m sure she will be grateful.”
“Have you eaten?” Daphne asked.
“I had a meal before I came here.”
“In that case, perhaps you’d better escort your guest out of Sherwood, David,” Robin said.
It was a dismissal, and Ursula saw David’s face tighten in annoyance. Without a word, he tied the cloth back over her eyes and took her hand again. Ursula allowed him to lead her away, feeling as though a weight had been lifted from her shoulders.
***
The black nun’s habit reached to Marian’s ankles. The wimple covered her hair, and her face was concealed behind a veil. As she left her chamber, she glanced up and down the passage, but saw no one. Ursula followed her out, leading Agatha by the hand.
Marian could not help thinking how well things had worked out. Agatha’s health had taken a turn for the worse. It was perfectly natural that Marian should have sent for help, and who better than nuns to care for her old servant?
Agatha walked placidly along with them. She was scarcely ever lucid these days, which was all to the good. At least she would not protest.
They made it to the outer bailey. Martin was waiting for them, holding the reins of three horses and a pony. The plan was for him to act as escort and then take Agatha on ahead once Marian and Ursula reached Locksley. The old woman would only slow them down if Guy chose to send men after them.
“I don’t like this,” he murmured, after checking to make sure no one else was in earshot. “What if you’re attacked on the road? Two nuns would be easy prey for any outlaw. Robin and his men are not the only ones to haunt this area.”
“It’s a risk we must take.” Marian hoped she sounded more confident than she felt. She had a knife hidden beneath her layers of clothing, but she knew it would be little protection against either outlaws or soldiers. “Prince John and the sheriff will be leaving soon on their hunt. They should not return for hours. By then, I will be long gone.”
Martin looked less than convinced, but he assisted her and then helped Agatha to mount her pony. The woman smiled vacantly up at him. Last, he assisted Ursula into her saddle.
The inner gate burst open, and a torrent of men poured out. Voices shouted for horses. A few glances were cast Marian’s way, but most were too intent on their preparations for the hunt to pay her any attention.
Marian’s heart sank. She had hoped to be away before the hunt left. She could not see Ursula’s face beneath the veil, but she sensed the other woman’s panic.
Prince John was, at that moment, making his way across the outer bailey, deep in conversation with Guy. They both halted at the sight of two mounted nuns and a servant. Marian saw recognition in Guy’s eyes as they lighted on Agatha.
“What is going on here?” he enquired.
Marian uttered a few choice oaths inside her head that she had learned from her father’s garrison at Huntingdon. There was nothing for it. She would have to answer. She resisted the urge to put her hand up to make sure her face was still concealed. She bowed her head and spoke in as humble a tone as she could manage.
“We are nuns from the Sisters of Mercy Convent, My Lord Sheriff. We were requested by Lady Marian Fitzwalter to come to Nottingham Castle and collect her nurse, Agatha. The woman is half-witted, and she has developed an unpleasant cough. Lady Marian wished her to spend her remaining days in comfort, where she could be properly tended.”
Marian could feel the eyes of the two men boring into the back of her head, but she still did not lift up her eyes. She hoped Ursula had had the sense to copy her pose.
“I have never heard of this convent,” Guy said.
“It is near Huntingdon, My Lord.”
“Why not Kirklees Abbey? It is closer.”
“Agatha spent some time at our convent in her youth, My Lord,” Marian lied. “The poor woman will be happier with people she knows.”
Helpfully, Agatha chose that moment to nod and smile at Guy.
“Lady Marian said nothing to me of this,” Guy
said. “If she was so fearful for the woman’s health, why did she not come to me?”
“I cannot say, My Lord. She is a truly devout woman. Perhaps that is why she turned to us for aid. I believe she once entertained a notion of entering our order.” Marian forced herself to shut her mouth. She was becoming too forthright. A nun was not meant to give an opinion. She was meant to be servile and timid in the face of these powerful men.
“We can easily get to the truth of this,” Prince John said in a bored tone. “Bring the lady here, and let her confirm the story.”
Marian’s desperation grew. She strove to keep it from showing.
“She is confined to her room, Sire. This affliction of her nurse has grieved her terribly.”
“Then how were you summoned?” The prince was not a fool, whatever else people said about him.
“Lady Marian sent her maid, Ursula. She is feeling too unwell herself to come down. I have prescribed a draft for her. A few hours’ sleep and she will be herself again.”
Guy’s gaze shifted to Martin, who had been standing to attention all this time. “What do you think you are doing, soldier? Do you not have duties elsewhere?”
“Lady Marian was concerned for the safety of the nuns on the road. She offered me money to escort them, My Lord. I was about to seek Captain Beaumont to ask his permission.”
Marian watched the indecision cloud Guy’s face. She was sure he wanted to refuse, but he was also attempting to ingratiate himself with his would-be bride. If Marian found out he had allowed the soldier to escort her maid to the abbey, she might soften towards him. The moment stretched out. Marian clutched the reins in a white-knuckled grip. She wondered if she would die from the tension.
Finally, Guy shrugged. “Very well. You will escort the nuns to the abbey and then come straight back here. Is that understood?”
“Yes, My Lord.” Martin mounted his horse. Marian took up the reins of Agatha’s pony to guide it. She forced herself not to look back. She was certain the moment they were gone, Guy would send someone to her room to check on her. She longed to urge her horse into a gallop, to put as much distance between her and the castle as possible, but she made herself stick to a sedate walk.
***
