Robyn Hood: Fight For Freedom

by Shea, K. M.

“I believe we’re up to approximately 34,000 marks. Not including the treasure in these saddlebags,” I said, glancing at Little John and Will Scarlet to confirm my guesses.

  “That sounds about right,” Little John agreed.

  “Knights have been lured to the forest by promises of a reward from Marian’s father. It’s been a busy two weeks,” Will Scarlet acknowledged.

  “34,000 marks?” Maxine uttered, his mouth hanging open.

  “Yes, I know. It’s only a fraction of the ransom,” I sighed.

  Maxine laughed. “It is a tidy sum. You have no idea how much it will be appreciated. I will ride to Queen Eleanor as soon as possible.”

  “That’s no good,” Will Scarlet flatly rejected. “If you ride off alone it’s practically announcing you’re linked with us or King Richard.”

  “What do you mean?” Maxine asked, bewildered.

  Little John rolled his eyes. “It’s fair obvious. If you leave our forest, unarmed, that apprentice fellow of the Sheriff’s will be immensely suspicious of you. Especially when the Sheriff reports you told us Prince John’s crown was bait for us.”

  “It will be even worse when you prance in, unhurt, while the Sheriff goes in his underclothes and George and the rest are injured and bruised. I could have some men drop you off at the gates, but I’m not willing to go any farther than that to make the façade complete,” I warned. “No, we’ll have to give you a reason to go.”

  “Send Marian,” Friar Tuck shrugged. “She was at Queen Eleanor’s a year ago. It is not preposterous that her father would whisk her off to that location once she returns home.”

  I stared at the portly churchman. “How did you know that Marian stayed in Queen Eleanor’s court?”

  “It’s common knowledge,” Friar Tuck said, waving it off.

  “No it’s not. I didn’t know that,” Little John said.

  “It’s a good idea. If Marian tells her father she wants to go to Queen Eleanor’s courts he’ll cry with joy, and of course she’ll need a male escort with some courtly standing in addition to all of her maids,” I said, rubbing my chin. “And we can always spread the rumor that Lord Maxine was blackmailed by Robin Hood into journeying with her, and that was his price to return safely to Nottingham without us seriously harming him,” I decided.

  “If we snag a few pieces of his clothes and ruff him up a little it will work perfectly,” Little John agreed.

  “Let’s do it,” I decided. “If you’re willing, Lord Maxine.”

  “I am. But will Marian be?” Maxine asked.

  I snorted. “If we tell her she’s accompanying our monetary donation she’ll be more than willing. She’ll be demanding,” I laughed, walking past Maxine to collect Crafty. “Please return with us to our camp in Sherwood and we’ll start planning, Lord Maxine,” I invited, swinging up onto my wicked horse.

  Lord Maxine was staring at me as though he were seeing me for the first time. “…Lady Mary?” he asked.

  I gripped Crafty too tightly with my legs, so he threw his head and hopped in protest.

  “You didn’t get Will and Little John’s obvious hints but when you see me on a horse you instantly recognize me?” I sighed.

  “That’s Nightmare, Lady Mary’s horse. He wouldn’t let anyone touch him except for her. Plus you do sound a lot like her,” he said, squinting up at me through narrowed eyes. “So Robin Hood’s a girl?”

  “Um, no. I was just disguised as a girl,” I simpered, trying to cover my tracks.

  “You forget Robin… or Mary. I danced with you. I know you’re a girl,” Maxine said, shaking his head.

  I groaned and stared up at the sky as Crafty fidgeted. “Will all of Britain know I’m female before this century is over?”

  “Quite possibly, but I doubt it,” Little John said.

  “Who would want to admit they’ve been robbed by a girl?” Will Scarlet agreed.

  “WILL, LITTLE JOHN! NOT HELPING!” I shouted.

  “She’s like this a lot,” Little John whispered to Maxine.

  “You better not tell the King. She’ll be so disappointed,” Will Scarlet added.

  “YOU TWO!”

  “Sorry!”

  I glared at Scarlet, giving him the evil eye, before looking to Little John. He had a rueful smile on his lips, but he nodded.

  It would take some time…but we were going to be fine.

  True to his word, Maxine escorted a very torn Marian to Eleanor’s courts. (She was beyond ecstatic to be doing some of the actual outlaw work, but she was chagrined about returning to Eleanor’s ladies.)

  Through out the months Friar Tuck kept us updated on the ransom status. Queen Eleanor did hawk some of the Crown Jewels and pawned many church treasures.

  We outlaws continued to rob all through the rest of fall and into the winter when the ransom money was finally sent. In the end only a little over 100,000 marks were sent to Henry IV of the Holy Roman Empire. He took the price and freed King Richard, even though it wasn’t the full ransom. King Richard was officially freed February 4, 1194

  He returned to England by March, and the second week into the month my Merry Men and I found a royal parade at our doorstop.

  Chapter 9

  Kindly Monks

  “Does he really think we’re actually going to rob him?” I asked Maxine as I stood on the branch of a tree, watching King Richard and his men parade through Sherwood. Again.

  “I think he’s hoping you’ll at least pop out so he can say hello,” Maxine groaned, clinging to the tree trunk with the death grip of a man not used to such heights. (This was why I was usually the only one to climb high in the trees.)

  “You think he would figure it out after we didn’t touch him those first few days,” I said, watching King Richard ride underneath me on his beautiful white stallion. Again.

  The first time the King came through my men and I bowed at him from the shadows, unseen by the monarch and his company. The second time he came through we continued to watch in awe. Same with the third, forth, and fifth time.

  It was now the eleventh ride and I was starting to grow impatient.

  With the King parading up and down the road through Sherwood, greedy merchants and aristocrats would join with him since the news was spread far and wide that my men and I had not moved to rob him.

  “Tell him we won’t reveal ourselves. Not ever!” I emphasized.

  “I would, but then he would know I’m in contact with you and would most likely order me to lead him to you,” Maxine said, glancing down at the glittering procession before squealing, “Do you always have to climb this high?”

  “He can’t have come all of this way just to see my Merry Men and me,” I scoffed. “Surely the King has more important things to be doing.”

  “True. His original purpose in coming to Nottingham was to force his brother to heel. It was a well known fact that Prince John’s been holed up in Nottingham for months. King Richard came to confront him.”

  I snorted. “Confront? Queen Eleanor, ever the mommy, made both King Richard and Prince John apologize to each other and said they were bad children.”

  My usual awe and wonder at royalty was wearing off. Fast. King Richard would cripple my outlaw practices at this rate. Besides, hearing Royal trumpets for eleven days straight was enough to make anyone testy.

  “It didn’t quite happen like that. King Richard, thanks to Queen Eleanor’s gentle encouragement, kindly said his brother was mislead and improperly incited to rebel,” Maxine corrected, a thin sheen of sweat covering his forehead. “Can we climb down yet?”

  “Go ahead. I’m going to signal my men to start laying pebbles down again. If we’re lucky a horse will get one wedged in its shoe and they’ll have to return,” I said, leaning off my branch.

  There was a thump and the shivering of leaves. I straightened up and blinked once before smiling at Will Scarlet. A second peer off the branch confirmed my suspicions. Little John was at the base of the tree trunk, looking up at me.


  They never liked leaving me alone with Maxine. (Will Scarlet especially.)

  “Hello Will,” I said. “We were just about to come down. I need to tell Tom to begin spreading the pebbles,” I said before starting to slide down the tree. “Help Maxine down, please?

  “Too late, I’m already following you,” Will said, hopping from branch to branch like a cat.

  “Will, you can’t just leave Maxine up there. WILL!”

  Once safely down the tree Maxine said his good byes.

  “Please, somehow, tell King Richard. Or allude that Robin Hood and his band of Merry Men will never, ever, ever stop him on the road,” I instructed

  “Right,” Maxine said, weakly throwing an arm in the air before stomping off thru the forest.

  “Little John, signal down the line that we need to throw the pebbles to hopefully make a horse temporarily lame. Tom should be in position,” I said, turning to my second in command. “Scarlet and I will head back to camp.”

  “Oh yes, Marian managed to sneak into Sherwood. She’s chatting with Ellen at the moment, but having King Richard around is making her angrier than a mad hornet. Her mother is positively wild with glee because of all the knights King Richard’s toting with him,” Will Scarlet laughed, slipping an arm around my shoulders.

  “Oh that’s fair fantastic,” I muttered, shrugging the arm off me. I was still avoiding the topic of love like a leper, and I had loosened both Much and Will Stutely on Will Scarlet, but he was still being a blockhead and refused to be dissuaded from me. (That still didn’t change the fact that he was a lord’s son!)

  “Plus there’s a new recruit who needs to be christened and sworn in. We also have the requests from Nottinghamshire, apparently taxes are going up again, even with King Richard’s return. We need to decide how to start spreading the money,” Will Scarlet continued as we started walking through the forest.

  “And what of George? Has he been sending any more foresters to poke around Sherwood? Those last two nearly made it past the scouts,” I said.

  “He’s been quiet. He’ll probably start moving against us again when King Richard grows bored with Sherwood and leaves,” Scarlet replied.

  “One of our men in Nottingham kitchens said George is still brooding about Robin Hood’s real identity. He might be on to you, Robyn,” Little John added, trotting after us, having made the signal.

  “Wonderful. Well, if we can’t rob, at least George can’t move to get us,” I concluded.

  “Isn’t that the truth.”

  “All the same, I’ll be looking forward to the day King Richard leaves.”

  “Will! That’s a terrible thing to say! I’m ashamed to call you one of my best men!”

  “I’m just saying what you’re thinking.”

  “You rude, inconsiderate creature! I love my King!”

  “Oh sure you do. Until his trumpets start ringing in your forest forever.”

  “For the love of all that is still pure in this unholy world, I hope not.”

  The following morning I was sprinting down the road that twisted through edges of Sherwood Forest.

  Why, you ask, was I running?

  Because Little John, Will Scarlet, Much, and Will Stutely were in hot pursuit. Apparently they found a rouge knight, a rogue knight, passing through the forest early that morning, and they wanted me to fight him. Me, quite possibly the weakest member in our band.

  I did not take to that idea kindly, so I was forced to run away. Unfortunately my Merry, and insane, Men followed.

  I managed to ditch them some time between releasing Crafty upon them and jumping across the river.

  “Head to Nottinghamshire. It’s the safest place,” I told myself as I jogged along. “I’ll hide with Much’s parents. No one will look for me there,” I muttered as I booked it around a turn in the road.

  I was moving so fast and I wasn’t prepared to find another person on the road, so I smashed straight into a brown robed abbot. I bounced right off the fellow and landed on the ground with a smack.

  In an instant I was up. “Sorry, sorry, so sorry. I didn’t hurt you did I? No? Good. So sorry, I must run,” I said, every particle of my being screamed that I had to get going now.

  If my men were to see me with the abbot they might make me fight him just to satisfy their sick sense of honor.

  As I righted myself I took notice that I had run into a variable pack of abbots. There was not one monk but twelve.

  “Making a pilgrimage?” I politely asked, pausing.

  “One could say that. Yes,” said the abbot I had rammed into, his hood pulled low over his face. His voice was melodic and surprisingly deep.

  “Ah, good luck,” I said as the other monks twittered around the abbot, patting him off. “Good day,” I called before I was off like a shot.

  Some distance down the road I stopped and turned around to observe the monks again.

  They were churchmen. Men of God. And oddly none of them sported the sagging belly that Friar Tuck and his compatriots seemed to have.

  “They’re going to get trampled by King Richard and his procession,” I grimly noted.

  I groaned and shouted, “CURSES.”

  That drew the attention of the twelve abbots.

  “Sorry!” I chorused, quickly crossing myself before bolting back to the front of their group. “Dear men, are you not well? I cannot help but notice your lack of… of… girth,” I said making an imaginary pot belly with my arms to illustrate my point.

  The head abbot tilted his head. “Excuse me?”

  “You aren’t fat. Are you fasting? Or has your pilgrimage really been that difficult,” I inquired.

  “We have come far,” one monk piped in.

  “Not that far,” the head abbot corrected.

  I weighed out my conscious and sense of survival.

  I try to do good things for people whenever I can. At this point I was still a little terrified that I would be sent to hell for my pleasant life of banditry. This was the perfect time for me to do something good, especially for a man of God. (I imagine I hadn’t won any points with my mistreatment of the bishop at Alan-A-Dale’s wedding)

  … But when my Merry Men caught me back at camp I would have to fight that knight!

  I mulled over it before deciding. “Men, how would you feel about dining with me and my company?” I exhaled, yanking the invitation out of me.

  “Who are you?” the abbot I had smashed into asked. Apparently he was their spokesperson.

  “I am but a humble forester. I, however, know it is wise to treat a man of God kindly,” I groveled and scraped.

  “The only one who lives in this forest is Robin Hood and his band of outlaws,” the head abbot laughed.

  “Robin Hood and his band of Merry Men,” I automatically corrected. Alan-A-Dale said calling us outlaws was bad for our reputation. Friar Tuck laughed him out of the camp after that proclamation. “Yes, they do live here too… unfortunately,” I growled.

  “Do you know him?” the head abbot asked.

  “Who?” I hooted, blinking quickly.

  “Robin Hood. Looking at your clothes I had initially assumed you might be one of his bandits,” the abbot said, motioning to my lincoln green getup.

  When picturing Robin Hood people were always looking for someone with broader shoulders and a more muscular build. Someone like Will Scarlet.

  “Aherm,” I said, avoiding the abbot’s hooded gaze. “Well… I—,”

  “ROBYN!” Little John bellowed like an ox.

  “STOP RIGHT THERE!” Will Scarlet shouted after him.

  I inquisitively turned around and yelped when I saw Will Scarlet and Little John racing towards me. There were two distant specks further down the road. Much and Will Stutely probably, they never had very good running stamina.

  “Sorry, I must go,” I said, bowing out of the abbots’ company.

  “DON’T EVEN THINK ABOUT IT ROBYN!” Will Scarlet shouted. They were gaining on me.

  I zipped thro
ugh the monks, spying freedom further down the road. “Almost, there,” I grunted, pushing past the last monk. I made a flying leap and Little John fair snatched me out of the air.

  “Oh no you don’t,” he grunted, yanking me backwards.

  I slipped out of his grip and headed for a tree. I threw myself on the lowest branch of a thick oak when Will Scarlet caught me.

  “Give it up Robyn, I’ve got you,” he grunted. “Ow, stop kicking!”

  “No! Let me go! I don’t want to fight that knight! He’ll kill me!” I said, almost in hysterics.

  “Marian said she thought you could take him,” Little John piped in, watching me kick Will Scarlet in the chest.

  “That means nothing. I could probably beat him in archery, but of course the men I fight always get upset whenever I beat them and turn on me with a sword!” I said, pausing before furiously kicking some more. “Let me go Will Scarlet, or I swear I’ll hide your favorite sword!”

  “No. Get. Down!” Will Scarlet said before latching his arms tight around my waist and picking his legs off the ground.

  We dangled in the air for several seconds before the branch snapped and we tumbled to the ground.

  “I won’t do it! You can’t make me!” I said, my voice edging into a wail.

  “Yeah right,” Will Scarlet grunted, sitting up off the ground.

  “I can’t do it! I’m… busy!”

  “With what?” Little John asked, latching a hand around my wrist before he pulled me up into a standing position.

  “These monks. I have offered them the hospitality of Sherwood Forest!” I gallantly beamed, spreading my legs and planting my fists on my sides in a reasonable impression of my dashing and bold Robin Hood persona.

  “…So you are Robin Hood,” the head abbot said after staring at me for a while.

  “Sorry to disappoint you,” I snapped, hearing the distinct frown in his voice.

  Will Scarlet smacked me upside the head. “That is not the way to talk to an abbot.”

  I frowned and smashed my elbow into his abdomen. He went down with a gurgle.

  “Bloody hell!” Will groaned.

  “You shouldn’t swear in front of abbots either!” I pointed out.