by N B Dixon
Robin arrived at the Blue Boar to find Alan already on the lookout for him. “They’re inside.”
“Any difficulties?”
“Not so far. They weren’t followed, though they caused quite a stir. It’s not often I have two nuns in my tavern. Several of the more disreputable customers left in a hurry.”
Robin grinned. He spotted the two nuns at once. They were at an isolated table, being given a wide berth by the other patrons. One of them lowered her veil as he approached.
Marian’s face broke into a relieved smile. “I was afraid you wouldn’t come.”
“We need to leave now. The sooner we get you behind the abbey walls, the better.”
Robin set a brisk pace. He was pleased to see that both Marian and Ursula were capable horsewomen, and they kept up without difficulty. He stayed off the road as much as possible, taking a circuitous route in the hope of avoiding soldiers. His sword and bow hung behind the saddle within easy reach. The rest of the outlaws were following them unseen, but within hearing of the hunting horn Robin wore at his waist.
Guilt gnawed at him as he rode. He hated putting the nuns of Kirklees Abbey in danger. They had done so much already, both in caring for Sir Richard when he was wounded, and years before when Much had been hurt.
Marian broke the silence. “Thank you for agreeing to help us. I know it’s dangerous for you.”
“It seems I have you to thank for my escape from Nottingham Castle.”
A flush crept into Marian’s cheeks. “I’m glad you got away safely.”
“I’m curious,” he said. “Why did you help me?”
Her eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “You aided me in the forest when I was hurt.”
“I also robbed you on the Nottingham road. Gisborne was quite within his rights to arrest me. I am a wolf’s head, after all.”
“But not of the usual sort,” she said with an arch smile. “You must know your deeds are being spread all over Nottingham and the surrounding country. I had not been in Nottingham Castle a day when my maid told me of your virtues.”
Robin’s gaze flicked to Ursula, who blushed.
“I think you are a good man, even if you did take my jewellery.”
Robin was amused. “It was in a good cause. But what of Gisborne, your groom-to-be?”
“He hangs those who displease him. He mutilates peasants who steal a crust of bread to feed their families. He is a monster. I would sooner die than become his wife.”
“It is the law,” Robin said quietly.
“If you think that way, then why do you oppose him?” Marian broke off, catching the slight quirk of Robin’s mouth. “You are teasing me,” she muttered.
“Marriage to the Sheriff of Nottingham would be a lucrative match for a woman in your position. I’ve been wondering why you chose to turn it down in order to become a bride of Christ.”
“What makes you think I have any intention of becoming a nun?”
“I should say you have little choice. Either you accept a man’s suit and retain your lands, or you take holy orders and your lands are forfeit to the Church.”
“There is a third option.”
Robin waited.
“I could marry the man of my choosing. That way, I still retain Huntingdon Castle and I can ensure that the next man to inherit the earldom is worthy of the honour.”
“And how do you intend to accomplish this while shut up in Kirklees Abbey?”
“The abbey is the only safe place for me until King Richard returns. Even the sheriff would not dare drag me from sanctuary.”
Robin heard the lack of conviction in her voice.
Kirklees Abbey came into view, a collection of grey stone and timber buildings surrounded by herb and vegetable gardens. The nun at the gate nodded when she saw Marian and Ursula.
“Abbess Evelyn is waiting to see you in her room. Come with me.”
Ursula followed the nun, but Marian hesitated. “You took a risk helping me. I shall not forget it.”
The nun was looking disapprovingly back at them.
To Robin, she said, “Go around to the infirmary. Sister Margaret has medicine for your sick friend.”
“Thank you, Sister. My men and I will stay close to the abbey for a few days. You may have need of extra protection.”
He got no answer, but everything in the nun’s body language as she walked away suggested she blamed Robin for any trouble Marian would cause the abbey.
***
Guy seized a platter laden with slices of roast chicken and threw it with all his strength at the opposite wall. Sauce splattered the stone, while the meat was instantly seized by several hunting dogs lurking around the table in hope of scraps.
Across from Guy, Katrina continued to devour the food on her trencher without apparent concern.
“You seem out of sorts,” she remarked around a mouthful.
“Out of sorts.” Guy spoke each word deliberately. “Is that sarcasm, Katrina? I am in no very pleasant mood today, so I should think carefully before you open your mouth again.”
Katrina pouted as she reached for her wine goblet. “There’s no need to take your disappointment out on me. It’s hardly my fault the Fitzwalter girl escaped from under your nose.”
Guy gritted his teeth. He had been made to look a fool by a woman. That was the worst sting of all.
“Where do you imagine she is?” Katrina said, now tucking into a bowl of pears swimming in honey. The table had been laid for dinner some time ago, but Guy had no appetite. Watching his sister eat made him feel nauseous.
“Kirklees Abbey, of course. Where else would she go?” Since the Sisters of Mercy Convent does not exist.
Katrina dabbed at her lips with the edge of the tablecloth. “Then it seems the Church shall have the Huntingdon lands after all.”
“Marian Fitzwalter will never be allowed to take her vows. Do you honestly think Prince John would let such a valuable prize slip through his fingers? He needs the revenues from that estate.”
“And he was depending on you to ensure he gets them.”
The feeling of nausea increased. Guy could well imagine the temper tantrum that would follow once Prince John heard of Lady Marian’s flight.
He had not yet returned from his hunting trip. Guy had declined to go, suspicion about the nun’s story nagging at him. It had taken mere minutes to ascertain that Marian was not in her room. A thorough search of the castle and town had followed, with no result. He’d sent soldiers after her, but by then, she had a good head start.
“When you are done stuffing your face, you will go to your husband and ask him to come to me. I assume he has finished questioning the soldier who acted as escort?”
Katrina shrugged. “He knew nothing. As far as he was concerned, he was helping two nuns escort a sick lady to their convent for medical care.”
“And Beaumont believes him? He is completely happy with that explanation?”
“The soldier in question has always been unfailingly loyal. My husband has good reason to trust his word. Besides, what other explanation could there be?”
It was Guy’s turn for sarcasm. “Let me think. Lady Marian could not have bribed him to help her escape. Such a thought would never have occurred to her.”
“With what? The woman has no money. She lost everything when the Huntingdon lands were confiscated after her father’s death.”
“And you can think of no other way the lady might have convinced him to do her bidding?”
Katrina laughed, which infuriated him even further.
“That would have been enterprising of her. It’s certainly what I would have done. But you are forgetting one thing, brother mine. Before you let your imagination run away with you, remember that you have been having her watched ever since she made it clear that she could not stand the sight of you. Unless she hid the man in her clothes chest, I fail to see how she was able to sneak him in an out of her chambers unnoticed.”
Guy had had enough of this verbal abuse. Bandying words wi
th Katrina was rarely satisfying. Guy knew deep down that his sister was clever, perhaps cleverer than he was himself, though he would never have admitted such a thing to anyone.
“Send Beaumont to me at once. Tell him to select his finest men. They are to ride to the abbey and bring Lady Marian back. You can also tell him that should they fail, he might as well take up residence in Sherwood with Robin Hood and his men.”
For the first time, he saw a flicker of fear in her eyes. It gave him immense satisfaction.
“What do you mean?” she snapped.
“Isn’t it obvious? Prince John will be looking for a scapegoat. I do not intend it to be me. If your husband comes back without Lady Marian, he will never leave Nottingham Castle alive.”
Her hand jumped to her belly. “You can’t! I’ll tell the prince who you really are.”
“That won’t save Beaumont. Discrediting me will not bring Lady Marian back. For your sake, you had better hope your husband succeeds.”
Chapter 17
Robin woke with a start as Will shook his shoulder.
“Riders coming this way.”
Robin reached for his bow. “How many?”
Will shrugged. “A lot, that’s all I know.”
Their conversation had roused the others. All of them were on their feet, snatching up weapons.
“Gisborne didn’t dally,” John muttered.
“What’s the plan?” Wat asked Robin.
“We need to get Marian and her maid out of the abbey. If the soldiers find only the nuns there, they may leave the place unmolested.”
***
It seemed an age before anyone answered Robin’s pounding. The portal in the abbey gate finally opened, and a frightened-looking novice stuck her head out.
“Gisborne’s men are coming. The abbey will soon be under attack. Where are Lady Marian and her maid?”
“With the abbess,” she whispered, eyes wide with fear.
Robin beckoned David to join him. “Take us to them. We’ll need two horses if you can spare them.”
Robin knew Abbess Evelyn well. She had been at the abbey when he’d first gone there four years earlier. In his absence, she had risen to the post of abbess and, in Robin’s opinion, was eminently suited for her role.
She wasted no time asking unnecessary questions. “You must take our guests and go. We will hold out here for as long as we can.”
“My men will protect you. I’m sorry to bring this to your door, Abbess.”
“The Lord will watch over us.” Abbess Evelyn made the sign of the cross over Marian. “God bless you, my child. I pray we will meet again soon.”
Ursula was pale and trembling. She clung to her brother’s arm. Marian looked more furious than frightened.
As Robin had requested, two horses were waiting for them.
“Take Ursula and hide,” Robin ordered.
David needed no further persuasion. He seized Ursula around the waist, swinging her onto the nearest horse and mounting behind her.
“What about My Lady?” Ursula protested.
“I’ll be all right, Ursula. Go!”
Without a backward look, David kicked the horse into a gallop.
Robin lifted Marian onto the second horse and sprang up behind her. At a nudge from his heels, the horse took off. Robin wrapped his arms securely around Marian and she leaned back against him. One brief glance behind him showed the riders were upon them. Will and the others rushed to engage them, but at a rapid order from Beaumont, some soldiers gave chase. Robin urged his horse to greater efforts. If he could make the cover of the trees, he might be able to lose their pursuers.
“Where are we going?” Marian called over the pounding of hooves.
“Sherwood. We can lose ourselves in there.”
“Your men.”
“They can look after themselves.”
“Robin, I’m sorry—”
He cut her off. “No time for that.”
Something whizzed past them and out of sight. Marian screamed.
“Keep as low as you can.” Robin leaned forward, trying to shield Marian’s body as much as he could. Another crossbow bolt whipped past. Robin swore. On horseback and with Marian in his arms, he couldn’t use his bow.
They had reached the safety of the trees. Robin plunged in among them. He heard the shouts of the men behind him and Marian’s ragged breathing.
“We’ll be all right soon.” He said it to reassure her, but he doubted it worked. Still, she said nothing, no shrieking or wailing. His opinion of her rose.
He took a zigzag route, tearing down paths and plunging into thickets, desperately trying to lose their pursuers.
As it had done the day he was outlawed and Gisborne’s men had chased him and Will into the forest, Sherwood helped him. Its dense foliage was a shield. Soon, the noises of pursuit had faded. Robin allowed his snorting, foam-spattered horse to slow and peered around him, listening intently, but there were only the forest sounds. They would need to find somewhere to hide.
He prayed Will and the others were all right. If they lived through this, it would be a miracle.
He dismounted and helped Marian down. Then he gave the horse’s rump a slap. With an indignant whinny, it galloped off into the trees.
“Why did you do that?” Marian hissed.
“They will be searching for the horse. We need to find somewhere to lie low.” He seized her hand and pulled her after him.
She struggled to keep up, her breath coming in noisy gasps. Finally, she stumbled and went down. Robin cursed again.
“Are you hurt?”
With his aid, she regained her feet. “I am well. Keep going.”
Robin did not set off again. He knew Sherwood as well as he knew his own name. Crouching, he scraped aside a tangle of creepers and let out a satisfied exclamation.
“What is it?”
“Get down,” he ordered. She dropped to her knees beside him.
“Crawl!” He indicated the tunnel he had uncovered. “Sherwood is riddled with many natural caves. This leads to one of them.”
She crawled past him and wriggled inside.
“There’s only room for one of us in here.”
“It’s all right.” The distant sound of voices reached him. The soldiers would be on them any moment. Robin swept the creepers back into place and looked around for a suitable vantage point. He chose a huge oak tree. It stood atop a small rise and provided excellent cover from which to aim and shoot. Taking up his position behind it, he took the quiver of arrows from his shoulder. There were twenty—enough, he hoped. He strung his bow and nocked the first arrow.
The voices were drawing nearer. Robin’s eyes had long since adjusted to the forest gloom, and it was possible to make out moving shapes. Any moment, they would appear. The element of surprise would not be his for long. He loosed.
A soldier fell with a choked cry. There was silence as the others stopped moving. It was broken by a voice Robin recognised as belonging to Beaumont.
“You’re trapped, Locksley. Tell us where you have hidden the Lady Marian.”
Robin declined to answer. He loosed a second arrow. Another man fell. The remaining soldiers fired off a return volley. Crossbow quarrels sang through the trees, but none found Robin. Calmly, he nocked and let fly a third arrow. An agonised scream and then a thud. Three down.
“Do you want to lose all your men, Beaumont? Leave while you can.”
“You will run out of arrows sooner or later, Locksley. Surrender yourself to me and you will be taken back to Nottingham Castle.”
“I’m afraid I must refuse. I have enjoyed Gisborne’s hospitality once already.”
“Find him!” Beaumont snarled.
Obediently, the soldiers went crashing through the forest, but they were unfamiliar with the terrain—a herd of charging deer would have made less noise. Robin waited until a soldier was passing near his hiding place, then broke from cover.
“There!” the soldier shouted. He brought up
his crossbow, but Robin was already running. He allowed the soldiers to chase him for a few minutes, then dived into a dense hawthorn thicket and lay still. The soldiers blundered past him. Robin listened to their confused shouts.
“He can’t have gone far,” one said.
Robin was beginning to enjoy himself. He had successfully lured the soldiers away from Marian. Now he needed to even the odds a bit more.
A noiseless shadow, Robin followed the soldiers as they continued to stumble around. It amused him that their roles were reversed. He was the hunter and they, the prey.
He chose his next vantage point behind the protection of a thorn bush, and loosed. Several arrows flew in quick succession and each struck true. The remaining soldiers were flung into confusion as they sought in vain for their unseen assassin. Finally, they fled.
Robin followed them back to the place where they had left Beaumont. He was combing the undergrowth close to where Marian was hidden. It took several minutes of shouting for his remaining men to locate him. Robin was near enough to hear the conversation that followed.
“Did you find him?” This from Beaumont.
“He keeps picking us off, Captain. He made us chase him, then he got behind us somehow.”
“He’s a bloody sprite, I tell you,” someone muttered.
Beaumont released a string of invectives. Robin let fly again, this time aiming at the tree close to where Beaumont stood. He heard the thwack as the arrow bit into wood and Beaumont’s cursing stopped abruptly.
“I can keep this up all night,” Robin called. “This is my kingdom, Beaumont. You have no authority here. Sherwood knows how to take care of its own.”
Before Beaumont could answer, the air was rent by the sound of a hunting horn. Robin felt a grin breaking across his face. Will and the others burst on the scene, pursued by the remainder of the original party of soldiers. The outlaws were outnumbered, but Robin’s quiver was still half full. The soldiers were forced to turn and fight for their lives.
Robin loosed arrow after arrow until his quiver was empty. He drew his sword and joined the fray.
Will’s sword and clothes were spattered with blood, but there was a fierce light in his eyes. John’s axe rose and fell with deadly precision. Edward and Daphne waded in, quarterstaffs whirling. Even David was there, minus his sister, united for the first time with the band.
