by Shea, K. M.
After counting, guessing, approximating, and calculating we discovered we had approximately 30,000 marks of wealth in our scattered, safe house locations. It wasn’t even a third of the ransom.
Friar Tuck left after dinner, promising to return soon with information about Queen Eleanor and her luck at raising funds. That left me to face Marian the following day with the bad news.
“Maybe I should come with you,” Little John suggested as we ate breakfast the following morning. “If there are two of us she can’t kill you. There would be a witness.”
“Maybe you’re right,” I said, popping a nut in my mouth.
“I’ll come with!” Will Scarlet volunteered, sitting next to me, stirring a bowl of berries.
“No, you will not,” Much announced. “I’ll be going. You can stay behind and teach swordsmanship to the trainees,” Much decided.
“What?” Will Scarlet protested.
“I haven’t been out with Robyn in months, it’s my turn,” Much said, stomping a foot on the ground.
“Much is right,” I agreed. “I promise I’ll bring you with next time Will,” I said, getting off my log. “We’re going disguised as a gaggle of females,” I announced.
“Surely you jest. Stutely’s sister does not have the facial stubble Little John sports,” Much snorted.
“If we aren’t dressed as ladies you two will find some tanner, or butcher, or other potential Merry Man for me to fight and get thoroughly thrashed by. We go as women,” I firmly stated.
In the end we started wandering through the forest, utterly undisguised, wearing our usual lincoln green clothes. Our disguises, the black robes of nuns, were shoved in the packs that Little John carried on his back.
We headed down the same trail I had taken the previous day, moving quietly as forest deer. It was a good thing too, or we might have unknowingly announced our presence to the singing musician/harper I ran into the day before.
Today he was not singing at all. Instead he was sitting on the ground, leaning against a rock. His shoulders were slouched, and he cradled his head in his hands.
I stopped to stare at the changed man as Much and Little John started to skirt around the small path he was sitting on.
“What’s wrong with him?” I murmured, continuing to stare at him.
“What?” Little John asked, slinking back to my side.
“I saw this young lad just yesterday. He was as happy as could be. Today it appears as though his life has been wrenched from him,” I said, watching the dejected harper with a curious frown.
Little John and Much swapped shrugs before walking away from me, bursting into the singer’s sight.
“What are you doing?” I hissed.
They ignored me and swaggered up to the minstrel.
The minstrel looked up with sad eyes. “If you’re here to rob me I have nothing,” he bluntly said.
Little John chuckled. “If we were thieves we would not be going after such a small tidbit as you.”
“We mean you no harm. For now,” Much added.
“Our leader wants to enquire after you. Sh-he’s over there. Come on, be a man and stand,” Little John bid.
“There is nothing wrong with my legs, I can come out of the shadows on my own,” I dryly announced, still hanging back in the shadows to tuck up the last few locks of my hair before I joined my Merry Men.
“I speak the truth. I really have nothing of value on me. Except this ring,” the minstrel said, looking down at a simple, silver ring he held in his palm. “And you are welcome to it if you so desire. It is no longer any good to me,” he bitterly sighed.
I rolled my eye as I strode up to the young boy. If this minstrel was anything like Dan the Musician, or the other singers and minstrels Marian had told me about, he was most likely being overly dramatic and was filled with creative sorrow.
“What good is a ring to you anyway?” I asked. “Some sort of birthright?” I had never heard of a minstrel with a birthright, but there is a first time for everything.
“Nay,” the minstrel sadly sighed.
Little John blinked and bent over, inspecting the plain ring. “Oh, it’s a wedding ring,” he announced, standing up to smile at me.
I narrowed my eyes and gazed up at him. “You had better know that for a practical reason, and not because of…,” I let my sentence trail off, trusting Little John would know I was alluding to the unspeakable confession incident.
“Nope. We’ve stolen plenty of them off Maid Marian’s potential swains,” Little John smiled.
I started breathing once again before turning back to the minstrel, who seemed to be unable to keep his neck from drooping. “See now, young minstrel. What on earth is wrong with you? Yesterday you were singing like a lark, today you are as dumpy as a vulture and carrying around a wedding ring. What happened?”
The minstrel finally looked up at me and blinked. “You saw me yesterday? But I was out here alone, in the woods. I only saw a single maid pass through here before I returned home.”
“Erm,” I brightly said. Mayhap he wasn’t as clueless and stupid as I had originally suspected.
“Truthfully my life was perfect then. Ellen was going to marry me,” the minstrel said, growing sad again.
“Oh, so she changed her mind?” Much callously asked, scratching his scalp.
“No!” The minstrel said, bursting to his feet. “Her parents are making her marry an old windbag of a knight! They said I’m only a minstrel, I couldn’t possibly provide for her. Which is true, compared to a knight I…,” the harper broke off in a sigh.
“She probably changed her mind,” Little John whispered to Much who nodded in consent.
I elbowed Little John before turning back to the harper. “What is your name?” I kindly asked.
“Alan-A-Dale,” he replied.
“Well Alan-A-Dale, you are in luck. It just so happens that today I feel the need to reunite lovers and save fair maidens who are being unwillingly married,” I announced.
“Hoping to soften Marian’s heart with tales of your heroic acts?” Little John asked. “It won’t work. She’s not really what you would call a romantic soul.”
“So it is you then!” Alan-A-Dale cried. “You are the good outlaw Robin Hood! Then you can only be Little John, and you are…,” the minstrel fell silent when his eyes landed on Much, who was quite obviously not the scarlet clad Will Scarlet who usually finished the trio.
“Much,” Much supplied with a pinched expression. “Her first Merry Man.”
“You are Much the miller’s son! Robin Hood’s greatest and most experienced Merry Man! I never thought I would live to meet such well known heroes!” Alan-A-Dale said, recovering and reacting so splendidly Much couldn’t help but forgive the minstrel for not recognizing him on sight.
I smiled as Alan-A-Dale turned his attention back to me. “Then were you the fair maiden yesterday? You make a beautiful lady,” he earnestly complimented me.
“Ah-um. Er,” I uncomfortably shifted.
“I have no gift I can give you for the feat you are about to perform for me… but I will serve you for the rest of my days, Robin Hood,” Alan-A-Dale continued, kneeling at my feet.
This made me smile in genuine happiness. “That is good to hear Alan-A-Dale. For you never know when I might need the services of a harper,” I said, winking at the young man. “Now, where is this sweetheart of yours? Is she being held in a tower?” I asked. Marian’s wild stories were starting to rub off on me.
“Nay,” the minstrel replied. “Soon she will be at the church, which is but five miles from this place. Her parents are marrying her off today.”
“Is that so,” I said as I looked Alan-A-Dale up and down. I was an inch or two taller than him, but as long as I wore my boots no one would notice the shortness in my hose. “I shall go ahead in disguise. You, Alan-A-Dale, will return to my camp in Sherwood with Much and Little John,” I said before turning to my accompanying Merry Men, who were already starting to object.
“I need you two to go and gather twenty Merry Men and Friar Tuck. When I blow my horn during the ceremony come to my side.”
“Heavens no,” Much refused at the same time Little John spoke.
“You’ll be disguised?”
“Yes,” I replied to my second in command’s question. “I’ll go in Alan’s clothes and be a harper or minstrel.”
Much made more noises of disbelief while Little John rubbed his chin.
“It might work. Your face is fine so you’ll look young enough for your high singing voice. But you should take Much with you,” he concluded.
“Agreed,” I said, knowing this was probably the best deal I was going to get out of the pair. “Alright, Alan-A-Dale. Let’s switch clothes,” I said, turning to the young minstrel.
He was horrified. “I could never wear Robin Hood’s clothes.”
“Which is good because we wouldn’t let you,” Little John rumbled. “He can wear one of the nun robes until we get him back in camp and kitted up with a Sherwood uniform.”
I shrugged off my quiver and handed it to Much, who would have to carry my weapons for me. “As you wish. But he had best start stripping,” I said, removing my large hunting knife from the sheath strapped to my side.
“And he will. Out of your sight,” Much said, pushing me out of the small copse.
Alan’s clothes were red, almost the same scarlet shade of Will Scarlet’s. The red hose was fine as long as I wore my boots. However, his ruffled shirt was much too small for my…erm… chest.
“This could be a problem,” I said, looking down at myself. I could button the shirt but I was clearly of the female gender with the fabric settling on my female curves.
“Sir Robin Hood, do they fit alright, heeaaaa,” Alan-A-Dale coughed when Little John abruptly yanked him back by the collar of his shirt, but it was already too late. He goggled at me, clearly seeing the truth.
Much sighed and removed his brown, leather vest as he walked past the stupefied minstrel and regretful Little John. “Here. Wear my vest. Little John’s would not only drown you, but since he had it colored green it would surely make you look like Father Christmas.”
“Thanks,” I said, sliding into the proffered clothing item. I laced it up and was quiet satisfied with the end result. I carefully placed a strip of cloth running down my stomach so my front looked more flat than slanted. Little John and Much were also satisfied after a careful inspection.
“What do you think?” I asked, bending over to pick up Alan’s harp. I tucked it in the crook of one arm and lazily stroked the strings with my free hand.
“It works,” Little John agreed.
“You look like Dan the Musician when he’s trying to be especially smarmy,” Much laughed.
“Who?” Little John asked.
“No one,” I waved my hand before turning to the recovering harper. “And you, Alan-A-Dale. Are you alright with this?”
“You were an awfully beautiful lady,” Alan told me, ruffling his nun robes. “A part of me wondered. But, Madame Robin Hood, you still have my loyalty and life for as long as you can use it.”
“Thank you master harper. I hope we are able to rescue your Ellen,” I stretched. “Much, we’re going,” I said, abruptly striding off through the forest. “Be ready Little John.”
“I will!” the giant man called back, assuring me.
Chapter 6
Wedding Crashers
An hour or so later Much and I found the church, which was nestled in a pleasant orchard. “Stay out here. Out of sight,” I ordered.
Much grumbled but climbed a nearby tree, perfectly blending in with the green leaves.
I took a deep breath before I strolled up the church path, humming the deepest notes I could while plucking at a few of the harp strings.
A stout churchman, who I observed to be a bishop by his robes, was opening the doors of the church. He was one of the unpleasant church fellows that I wouldn’t like. He was the type to let the poor starve and keep the church coffers for himself.
He smiled at me, glancing down at my harp. “God has given you a gift of music, has he?”
“I will never discredit God,” I humbly said. (Even with my extravagant robbing career in full swing I still tried not to lie to priests. Or at least I tried not to lie to them as much as I did to everyone else.)
“Who are you, what are you doing here?” the bishop inquired.
“I am but a wandering minstrel. When walking down the road to Nottingham I was informed that today a wedding will be performed in this most sacred place. I decided to venture here in hopes of being able to make music for the lovely bride and groom during this joyous occasion,” I said, speaking as flowery as possible while plucking a few more notes. I hoped it sounded minstrel-y.
“You are certainly welcome to the ceremony,” the bishop started. “It is I who will be performing the service for my good friend and his young bride. Come, play your harp that I might hear your skills.”
I smiled and Much nearly wet his pants in his tree. “I can not, sir Bishop,” I truthfully said. After all, I could only pluck a few strings and hope they sounded decent. “Where I come from it is considered bad luck to play before the budding bride is among us,” I said, finishing the speech with a hand flourish.
“We will need not wait long then. Here comes the lucky couple,” the bishop said, pointing past me.
I turned around and sure enough, further up the path was an old knight who was probably my father’s age. With him was a pretty girl dressed in blue with her hair down and a garland of flowers perched on the crown of her head. She could only be Ellen. Trailing behind the pair was another couple, most likely Ellen’s parents.
“The guests have already been seated. Go find a place for yourself, young harper, and prepare to play,” the bishop instructed before waddling down the steps to greet his friend.
I could hear Much angrily rattle the tree branches over my head. No doubt he wanted some bold, dashing comment out of me. Unfortunately he wasn’t going to get any.
“Yes sir,” I cheerfully said before bounding up the stairs. I could not miss the intense stare Ellen gave me, or specifically my clothes.
Much was climbing down his tree with the nimbleness of a cat. He glared at me and pointed to the chatting bishop and knight, clearly wanting some sort of heroic insult to be uttered.
I shook my head.
Much actually cursed and glanced at the bishop and knight before darting out into the church yard path. Within seconds he ducked into the church, wedging himself directly behind me.
“What are you doing?” I growled, sensing the well wishers in the church were already staring inquisitively at my Merry Man.
“That old, fat, saggy knight is marrying this beautiful young bride? Such a waste!” Much shouted in a badly done falsetto tone that was clearly supposed to be my higher pitched voice.
“That was poorly done Much,” I warned, but the bishop fell for it.
“Hold your tongue you cheeky harper,” the bishop snarled. “And play your harp.”
“That’s just it, dear bishop,” I said. “I’m hardly a harp player. I always was better at the horn,” I said, trying to pluck a few of the harp strings, breaking one in the process. I winced and spun around to shove the harp in Much’s hands. “Hang on to that,” I whispered.
“What?” the bishop asked, furrowing his bushy eyebrows that nearly became one entity when he glared at me.
“Here, I shall demonstrate,” I said before pulling out my white horn. I sounded three, clear blows on it and waited.
In trooped Little John, Will Scarlet, and twenty five Merry Men with Alan-A-Dale and Friar Tuck in their ranks. (Never mind that I had said twenty. Of course Little John had to go and get twenty five.)
“Hello Father!”
“Morning Father!”
“Good day Father!”
My Merry Men greeted the priest as ten of them trooped past the Bishop and the knight and instead hopped into the chu
rch, plopping themselves in open pews.
“Fat toad,” Friar Tuck insulted the Bishop as he walked up the path and into the church.
“William Scarlet, I may be a bad judge of beauty, but don’t these two seem ill matched?” I drawled as I casually strode down the church steps, taking my bow and quiver from Much as he shadowed me.
“They do indeed, Robin Hood. I first thought they were father and daughter,” Will Scarlet laughed as he ambled up to meet me, Little John with him.
Will’s words caused a stir with the fat knight and Bishop. Instead of continuing to look purple with anger they turned a distinct green shade of fear.
“And you, Little John. What did you think?” I asked my giant Merry Man.
“I recall a harper lad saying he would gladly wed such a pretty girl. Why, he is here with us. Shall we swap out the groom, Robin Hood?” Little John asked, his eyes mischievously twinkling.
“I think we should. What do you think, Lady Ellen? Would you take our dear Alan-A-Dale?” I asked, stopping in front of the pretty girl, who was practically shaking with fright.
When she heard my words she visibly brightened. “Alan?” she asked, a smile bubbling to her lips.
“I am here my love!’ Alan said, pushing his way past her parents.
They embraced and cried before Ellen turned away. “Thank you. Thank you Robin Hood, sir,” she laughed, wiping tears from the corners of her eyes.
“We shall not stand for this,” Ellen’s father hissed. “You will not marry that minstrel,” he spat.
“We will never give you to him,” Ellen’s mother added in a shrewish voice.
“You won’t have to,” I gallantly said with my most dashing smile. “I will for you. Lobb, Ryan, please escort this pair away from the ceremony. Much, Will Stutely, and Tom, keep an eye on the knight,” I said, laughing from deep in my chest. “Now dear Bishop, please start the ceremony and cry them three times.”
“Never,” the bishop said, spitting with anger.
“Very well. Then I shall make my own bishop. Little John!” I said.
“Yes Robin?” Little John asked with a wolfish grin.