The Adventures of Robin Hood

by Roger Green

  But Bettris bore no grudge, and while Robin and George shook hands and clapped one another on the back, she went up and knelt before Marian and kissed her hand.

  ‘Not so,’ said Marian gently, ‘there is no Lady Marian in Sherwood but only Maid Marian.’ And she raised Bettris to her feet and embraced and kissed her.

  Then they were all happy together, and neither Scarlet nor John bore George any grudge for their broken heads.

  ‘Come now,’ said George, ‘you are most welcome. Come, good Robin Hood, and lovely Maid Marian, and you two stout fighters, Will Scarlet and Little John – whose skill with the bow is, I’ll warrant, far greater than mine could ever be. I live but in a humble cottage, thatched with turf – but I can offer you a feast that you might not find even in a manor house. I have a side of beef that has hung in the smoke since Christmas; I have fresh mutton and veal, I have wafer-cakes in plenty – and as much ale as any one of you could drink in a year.’

  ‘And that is a feast all too good for such unbidden guests as we are,’ said Robin. ‘But let us in and partake of it. And tomorrow come back with us to Sherwood and taste of our good cheer.’

  ‘Right willingly,’ answered George-a-Greene.

  ‘And I say the like,’ echoed Bettris. ‘That is, if I may come with you dressed even as Marian is, with a sword at my side and a bow on my back.’

  ‘It shall be as you wish,’ said George, and Robin nodded agreement. ‘But come away now, for dinner waits us – and I long to drink the health of noble Robin Hood!’

  17

  A Night Alarm and a Golden Prize

  What life is there like to bold Robin Hood?

  It is so pleasant a thing:

  In merry Sherwood he spends his days

  As pleasantly as a king.

  ANTHONY MUNDAY: Metropolis Coronata (1615)

  After spending several days at Wakefield with the merry pinner George-a-Greene and his bonny bride Bettris, they all set out once more for Sherwood – Robin Hood, Will Scarlet, and Little John, with Marian dressed also as a forester. George and Bettris came with them, both of them clad now in Lincoln green, and Bettris bubbling over with delight and amusement at being dressed as a man.

  Their first day’s journey was mainly down the road, and their only moment of danger came when, towards evening, a knight fully armed, with a dozen men at arms behind him, swung round a corner in front of them at a trot and came past before they had any chance of hiding.

  The knight did not stop, but his visor was up so that he could see them clearly. He passed without appearing to take any notice, but on looking back Robin saw that he had reined in his horse and was gazing intently after them.

  ‘Walk on as if we had noticed nothing,’ said Robin quietly. ‘But follow me quickly and quietly into the wood as soon as they are out of sight. I think that was Sir Guy of Gisborne – who is my sworn enemy.’

  ‘And my sworn lover,’ added Marian, ‘and for that I fear him all the more.’

  Once round the corner of the road, Robin led the way quickly into the thick woods, first over flat country, and then along a narrow path which led between rocky and tree-covered hills. Meanwhile the sky became overcast and rain threatened more and more as the evening closed in about them.

  ‘Where are you leading us?’ asked George at last.

  ‘To seek shelter for the night,’ answered Robin. ‘And we shall need it! There are some friends of ours who live near here and are always ready to welcome us – and to help us if any danger threatens, as I fear it may.’

  As they wended their way by rough and narrow paths, they met a peasant with a spade over his shoulder.

  ‘Whither go you, my masters?’ he asked. ‘There be rogues in that direction.’

  ‘Can you show us any direction,’ answered Robin, ‘in which there are no rogues?’

  The peasant grinned, and stood watching them as they threaded their way down the steep side of a valley at the bottom of which a small river dashed and foamed over its rocky bed and glimmered grey and white in the last faint gleams of twilight.

  Very soon it was quite dark, and the rising wind, with a whiplash of rain, foretold a coming storm.

  Presently however they saw a light below them, and on Robin winding his horn, an answering note came up to them, and presently they came to a small stone house, little more than a cottage, built on the edge of a steep cliff overhanging the river which swirled through a narrow channel just here and tumbled down a series of low waterfalls.

  The door stood invitingly open, and on the threshold was Allin-a-Dale.

  ‘Welcome, welcome, good Robin Hood!’ he cried. ‘And welcome to your brave followers also! My wife and I are indeed honoured by your company. Come in quickly out of the storm.’

  ‘I fear that we bring danger with us,’ said Robin, as they came into the great stone-flagged room which served as kitchen and hall and indeed the whole ground floor of the little house all in one.

  And when he had introduced George and Bettris, and made Allin’s wife guess who the disguised Marian was, they all sat down on rough benches round the fire to a good meal of broiled meat, with a choice wine to follow it.

  Then Robin told Allin of their adventures, and heard all that Allin had to tell him of the difficulty he was having in winning back his wife’s lands and house from the clutches of the Bishop of Peterborough.

  ‘These battles of the law,’ ended Allin, ‘seem as unending as this civil broil between Prince John and the Earl of Chester. I would that King Richard were home again! Then we should have our lands without any further trouble – and a better house than this in which to entertain you.’

  Robin sighed. ‘If Richard were home again,’ he said, ‘Marian and I would be man and wife – and, if the King forgives me many things, living once more in my father’s house at Locksley, where Sir Guy now dwells… But life in the greenwood is pleasant enough, and I would miss it sorely!’

  ‘Very true,’ said Allin, ‘but happy though we are in this solitary house, I would like to feel that we were safe.’

  Even as he said this, his wife caught him suddenly by the arm and pointed to the one window which was not yet shuttered, and the party following the direction of her hand saw the head of an armed knight with his plumes tossing in the storm on which the light from within the room shone for a second before it disappeared.

  In a moment Allin was at the window, swung to the shutters, and dropped the bar into place. As he did so there was a knock at the door, so loud that it must have come from the knuckles of an iron glove.

  ‘Shelter for a poor traveller who has lost his way in the storm!’ came a voice from outside.

  ‘Who and what are you?’ asked Robin.

  ‘A soldier,’ replied the voice, ‘an unfortunate follower of Earl Ranulph, flying from the vengeance of Prince John.’

  ‘Are you alone?’ said Robin.

  ‘Yes, indeed,’ said the voice. ‘Pray let me in, kind cottagers – it is a dreadful night. I would not have troubled you but for the storm. I would have slept out in the woods.’

  ‘That I believe,’ said Robin. ‘You did not expect a storm when you turned into this valley. Do you know that there are rogues this way?’

  ‘I do!’ answered the voice.

  ‘So do I!’ said Robin.

  There was a pause during which Robin, by listening attentively with his ear to the keyhole, caught a faint sound of whispering.

  ‘You are not alone,’ declared Robin suddenly. ‘Who are your companions?’

  ‘Companions?’ exclaimed the voice in surprise. ‘I have none, but the wind and rain – and I could do very well without them.’

  ‘The wind and the rain have many voices,’ said Robin, ‘but I never before heard them say “What shall we do now?” ’

  There was another pause, and then the voice from without cried in an altogether different tone:

  ‘Look you here, master cottager! If you do not let us in willingly, we will break down the door!’ />
  ‘Ah-ha!’ cried George-a-Greene, who had been listening in silence to all this. ‘We is it now, you plural rascals? Well, we’re ready for you. You thought to rob and murder a poor yeoman and his wife, did you? But instead you come upon a house well garrisoned!’

  No reply was made to this, but instead furious blows were dealt to the door which threatened speedily to break it down.

  Then Robin, Scarlet, John, and George drew back to the other end of the room, loosened the swords in their sheaths, strung their bows and set each of them an arrow upon the string. Marian without a moment’s hesitation took her stand beside Robin and made ready her bow also. But Bettris and Allin’s wife armed themselves with spits as long and as sharp as javelins or short throwing spears and took their stands on either side of the doorway. Allin himself stood near his wife with his sword ready in case any of the invaders should break into the house.

  At length the door gave with a crash, and a dozen or more armed men were seen in the opening, all with drawn swords in their hands. The instant the door broke the five bows twanged and as many arrows rushed unerringly to their marks, laying three of the invaders dead or sorely wounded on the ground, and disabling two more.

  Another man leaping through the doorway fell beneath Allin’s sword: Bettris struck at him with her spit, but missing her aim plunged the weapon several inches into the opposite door post where it remained fixed making a new barrier under which all must stoop to enter the house.

  The remaining men, however, charged fiercely forward, and one of them wrenched out the spit and hurled it so mightily at Scarlet and John that, though it turned in the air and struck them only with its side, it stretched both of them on their backs.

  Now Robin, Marian, and Allin were fighting with their swords, while George, failing to draw his, snatched up a great wooden cudgel – and felt at once more at home with it than with any other weapon.

  Now the fight waged fast and furious, Bettris and Allin’s wife joining in as best they could, hurling cooking pots, stools and even articles of china at the most convenient enemy heads. George with two strokes of his cudgel laid two men insensible on the floor, and turned just in time to see Robin’s sword shattered to pieces by the iron mace of the knight who commanded the party of attackers. Marian was defending herself valiantly against two swordsmen, and as George charged roaring across the floor to Robin’s help, these two turned their attention to him, while Marian leapt forward to meet the knight, parried his blow so dextrously that the sword flew from his hand, and a moment later a well-aimed kettle hurled by Bettris laid him on the floor.

  Marian immediately sprang astride him and setting her sword-point to his face, bade him surrender and bid his men cease the combat or she would slay him there and then.

  ‘Mercy, good sir!’ gasped the knight, in tones which at once revealed his identity. ‘Put down your swords, men: we are fairly beaten.’

  ‘Guy of Gisborne,’ said Marian, flinging back her hood so that he could see who had defeated him. ‘I have you at my mercy.’

  ‘That I have always been!’ gasped the knight, ‘and only for love of you have I sought so hard and so often to take you from Robin Hood.’

  ‘How did you find us here?’ asked Marian.

  ‘I passed you on the road,’ answered Sir Guy, ‘and recognized my rival Robin Hood. By the time I had turned and come after you, you were lost in the wood. But a lucky meeting with a peasant at the head of this valley showed me where you were to be found.’

  ‘Sir knight,’ said Marian, ‘many times you have sought the life of my lord – and of me as well, for I could not live were Robin no more. And do you think me so spiritless as to believe that I could be yours by compulsion? You know well that I would die rather than that – and death is easy to find.’

  ‘Let me strike off his head!’ said Robin grimly. ‘We have been troubled by this false knight all too long. And now, if he lives, our friends here will be in danger.’

  ‘Not so,’ said Marian. ‘Sir Guy, you shall swear by the oath you hold most sacred, first that you will seek no vengeance on these good people who shielded us and helped us against you; and second, never more to pursue my lord Robin Hood or me – and on these conditions you shall live.’

  ‘And if you break this oath,’ added Robin, ‘there is no more mercy for you.’

  Then Guy of Gisborne swore what was required by the honour of knighthood and his hope of salvation, and departed into the darkness with all his men, living, dead, or dying.

  ‘We are well rid of an unwelcome guest!’ said Robin, when the broken door had been mended as best they could, and the rest of the damage repaired. ‘But I am sorry, good friend Allin, and your sweet lady, that this rough and unseemly broil has come to disturb your house.’

  ‘Never trouble about us,’ said Allin-a-Dale. ‘This has not wiped away even so much as a tenth of our debt to you. And, praise God, none of us are much the worse for this fray, except for Scarlet and John – and if they drink enough of my good wine, they can blame their headaches on to that!’

  ‘By the Mass!’ cried George-a-Greene, ‘I love this life of yours, good Robin, better every hour of it that I live with you and your merry men. What say you, sweet Bettris?’

  ‘I would I could wield a sword as well as Maid Marian,’ Bettris answered. ‘George, you have failed in your duties towards me!’

  ‘By not teaching my wife to fight?’ laughed George. ‘By Our Lady, no court in Christendom would accept that as a cause of complaint!’

  And so the night wore away with laughter and song, and after they had slept and rested well, the six travellers bade a grateful farewell to Allin-a-Dale and his wife, and set out once more on their way to Sherwood.

  ‘I hope that no more adventures befall us before we are safe in our own glades,’ said Robin.

  But George differed over this, and grew more and more disappointed as they came further and further down the road which ran through Sherwood without meeting any but stray peasants or yeomen.

  It was growing again towards evening as they neared the place for turning off the road into the path which led towards the secret glade, when suddenly they heard voices ahead.

  ‘Sssh!’ cautioned Robin, and a broad grin overspread his face. ‘I know that voice, it is our fat priest, Friar Tuck. Come quietly hither behind these bushes, good George, and I believe that you will see how we gather our tithes in Sherwood Forest… Yes, the good Friar is collecting subscriptions for King Richard’s ransom!’

  The road ran through an overshadowed dell just there, and peeping over the bushes the travellers saw Friar Tuck, his mighty quarter-staff in his hand, talking with two trembling priests.

  ‘Benedicite!’ boomed Friar Tuck. ‘Go not so fast, my brethren! If you cannot spare a piece of silver for the needs of a starving brother, you can at least spare a piece of gold to go towards King Richard’s ransom!’

  ‘Alas, alas,’ replied the priests. ‘We have not so much as a penny piece between us. For this very morning we met with robbers who took from us everything we had.’

  ‘If that be so,’ said Friar Tuck, ‘then come with me and we will see whether good Robin Hood, the friend of all poor and needy men, cannot lend you some gold out of his store!’

  But the two priests showed no desire to follow this suggestion; indeed they were both filled with fear and would have run away there and then if Friar Tuck had not seized each of them by the scruff of the neck and forced them down on to their knees.

  ‘I greatly fear,’ he said unctuously, ‘that you lack the virtue of truth. And I am resolved to hear your confession before you go hence!’

  ‘Oh spare us, good friar!’ wailed the priests. ‘Have pity on us!’

  ‘That will I,’ quoth Friar Tuck. ‘What I do is but for your souls’ good. You said just now that you had no money. Therefore let the three of us kneel down here and now and pray that money may come to us!’

  There was no help for it, so the priests in trembling voices beg
an to pray for money. And as they prayed they groaned and wrung their hands: but Friar Tuck sang his offices with a fine, full voice, and sang loudest of all when the two priests wept and lamented.

  ‘Now!’ said he at length. ‘Let us see what money Heaven has sent us in answer to our prayers!’

  ‘No money, no money!’ quavered the priests, putting their hands into their pockets.

  ‘Better to search each other’s pockets,’ said Friar Tuck, and search he did with such good success that more than six hundred pieces of gold were soon laid in a glittering pile on the ground – of which not more than a dozen coins came out of Friar Tuck’s pocket.

  ‘Here is a brave show!’ cried Friar Tuck when all the pockets were empty. ‘Heaven has taught you generosity – even if truth is still denied you… But speak the truth now, or my cudgel shall seek it in your thick heads: whose money is this, and whither were you taking it?’

  ‘Alas!’ lamented one of the priests. ‘The money was raised by the Abbot of St Mary’s, and we were bearing it at his command to good Prince John who is now at Ashby-de-la-Zouche not far south from here.’

  ‘Then indeed,’ cried Friar Tuck happily, ‘it could be put to no better use than to complete the ransom which shall set free our dear King Richard to come home into this unhappy country and punish the wickedness and cruelty of Prince John and his evil followers. Here I give you one piece of gold each: that will take you to Ashby. And if Prince John does not reward you handsomely for using his money in so good a cause – why, you must sell your horses or beg your way back to York! Now, get you gone speedily, and say that Robin Hood is forwarding the ransom money for his King’s return.’

  The two frightened priests, still weeping and lamenting, clambered upon their horses which stood waiting at a little distance, and went galloping away in a cloud of dust, while Friar Tuck stood by his pile of gold and bellowed with laughter.