“Sit down until Robin’s had a look at him,” another advised.
“’Taint no good, if he decides to throw him back in the pond.”
In spite of the first fellow’s remark, I didn’t suspect cannibalism here. To begin with, there wasn’t enough of me to go around; and there was enough cooked meat warming by the fires to feed a small army. As much puzzled as worried, I passed to the other side of the great wood fire. At that point those who had been leading me stood aside to let me see and be seen.
A fellow was sitting on a log, tying feathers on an arrow. He was dressed like the others, but I saw from their attitude that this was the man I had to talk to. His teeth were helping his hands tie a knot, so it was a moment before he looked up. His eyes passed over me, then went to my captor.
“What you got, John?”
“This is all we could find,” the big fellow said defensively, “but it’s getting late, you know.”
“Yes, and I know the men are sharp set; but a vow is a vow. Is there anything unusual about him?”
After a moment of thought the man beside me chuckled. “He was unusual enough to put Scarlok to sleep when he was first stopped.”
Everybody within hearing seemed to think this a great joke. Even the man I had hit gave a sheepish grin.
“Aw, he caught me with my guard down. Besides, I wasn’t out.”
His chief, who had laughed as heartily as anybody, still had merriment in his eyes when he pointed his reddish beard my way. “Have you any money?”
“We were going to frisk him,” John said hastily, “but it was getting dark, and I — ”
“Let the man answer, John.”
“I haven’t even got a slug for a nickel slot machine,” I said, happy to spite them.
“You’ll be glad, if you’re telling the truth,” he told me. “Find out, John.”
Of course, they didn’t find anything, though they were thorough. “He ain’t got a thing but this knife, Robin.”
There was a pathetic desperation in the report which pierced my own grim misery. This skyscraper was hungry. Everybody else was very grave about it, but Robin’s eyes met mine. In answer to my grin his mouth twitched.
“Maybe,” he said to John, “we can find something else about him that will make him qualify.” He looked at me again. “A man is only in the woods because he’s lost, because he’s running away, because he’s going to meet a man, or because he’s looking for a woman.”
“I’m doing all four,” I informed him. “More than that, I’m looking for dinner.”
As I said this, I could feel that everyone else was holding his breath. Then, as their chief rose lithely, that breath was loosed in a sigh.
“You’ve come to the right place,” Robin said. “We’re just about to eat.”
That was a swell barbecue. There was plenty of well-cooked venison and plenty of ale to wash it down with. The fire tempered the evening chill without robbing the air of its freshness. Sandwiched between light and dark, I could see both sides of the world at once. The food, the earth, the woodsmoke, the ale, and the forest provided an incomparable salad of smells. Below me the forest floor was yielding. Above, the night wind riffled the leaves.
The company was all right, too. Society may take a different view, but to the individual the man who does not steal from him is no thief at all. As far as I was concerned, they were my pleasant benefactors, and I took to Robin. He and I ate together, talking as we worked at the meat with knife and fingers.
“We don’t have many holy days in the woods here,” he said. “Lady’s Day is about the only one we keep, but to make up for it we keep it several times a year.”
“Uh-huh.” I didn’t know what he was getting at, so I let him talk.
He chewed hurriedly and cleared his throat with ale. “On that day we hold dinner until Our Lady sends us a guest.”
I chuckled comfortably. “Preferably one with money?”
“We like it better that way,” he admitted, “but on Lady’s Day that’s not the main point. If he has too much cash, we’ll ease him of his load, of course; but on the other hand, if he’s broke, we’ll help him out. In either case dinner is on us, and we try to make it a good one.”
“As long as I don’t have to pay the shot, it seems like a great idea.” I savored a chunk of venison while I considered. “And I’m the only stooge you could find today?”
“You don’t appreciate the compliment. Just anybody won’t do. The woods are full of chicken thieves and kids who can’t get along with their families. We picked one of those up this afternoon. No, to qualify as our Lady’s Day guest a man has to be out of the ordinary.”
“Who isn’t?” I asked, blowing the foam off a fresh horn of ale. After drinking, I shoved the sharp end in the ground, as I had seen the others do. “Incidentally, what was my selling point?”
“A hunch of mine, prompted by that white hank of hair. Just a minute. There’s the only other fellow we collared today. Hey, Nicolind; come here.”
A slender youngster approached and, by invitation, sat down. Black hair straggled out of a tarn o’ shanter to frame handsome, tanned features.
“He’s come to the woods because he says town got too hot for him,” Robin explained, winking at me with the eye the other couldn’t see. “Nicolind, this is Shandon Silverlock.”
The hand the youth gave me was firm, but it had never done much work. My mind, meanwhile, was occupied. If those woods-running gangsters had been watching the road, why hadn’t they seen Rosalette? Or had they seen her?
“Tell me something,” I said. “Do you ever catch yourselves any ladies on Lady’s Day?”
“Nope.” That was finality speaking. “Any of the boys who want to bother women can go elsewhere. It is not to be done on my stamping ground.” For the first time his face showed the toughness that enabled him to hold and direct this crew of roughnecks. “Ask any of them what happens, if they forget that.”
His stand on that point made me feel less concerned about Rosalette. “Did your men happen to see a girl on that road, do you know? I’m not chasing her,” I added hastily. “But she was all alone, and I’m worried about her.”
“That’s right; you said you were looking for a woman. What about it, Nicolind? You were with the crew that picked you up, until it was relieved and brought you in. Did you see any maids or madames?”
The youth reflected. “I saw one, come to think of it, when I stepped off the road to drink from a spring.”
“That must have been she,” I declared. “Did you talk to her?”
“No. She didn’t seem to feel like it, and even without knowing how Robin here felt about it, I never was one for running after girls.”
“They probably don’t know you’re anything to run from yet,” Robin suggested. “Wait till you get a few whiskers on your chin.” He winked at me again. “Nicolind says he wants to join up and be an outlaw. How about you?”
When I hesitated, he smiled. “I’m pledged to help anybody I pick up on Lady’s Day who’s in trouble. I won’t find that girl for you and couldn’t make her love you, if I did; but if you’re looking for a home, we might try each other out for a few days.”
If Rosalette hadn’t passed Robin’s patrols, she was straying in the forest somewhere, probably not too far away. Even if I didn’t find her, I would feel better if I spared some time for the effort. And if I stayed in the woods, I had to have some source of nourishment.
“Suppose we leave it at that,” I said. “And thanks.”
“Think it over. Anybody who can knock Scarlok down is wasting his time leading a peaceful life.” Jabbing his knife in the earth to clean it, he rose. “I’ve got to take a look around to see that everyone gets all he can eat and a little less than that to drink. See you later.”
When he had gone, I reappraised the scene from a new angle. It might not be too bad a life for a while, although I realized I was now looking at the butter side of it. Some were still eating, though most, like m
yself, were just enjoying being at peace with their stomachs. The cooking fires were dying out, but the camp fire still blazed. As men finished their meal, they tended to draw nearer to it. After a while Nicolind suggested that we do so, too.
I had been feeling rather than thinking, but now my mind turned on again. “Just what did that girl look like — the one you saw back there at the spring?” I asked.
“Oh, I don’t know.” He smiled and shrugged. “I didn’t pay as much attention as I sometimes do.”
Nevertheless, the point-by-point description I exacted convinced me he had seen Rosalette. “How far was it from the spring to where you were picked up by this crowd?” I next enquired.
“A mile, maybe. You would certainly think she would have showed up before you did; but then she may have turned around and started back.”
“But I would have met her,” I pointed out. “Besides, there’d be no sense in her doing that. Not if she’s the one I have in mind.”
Nicolind looked at me curiously. “Are you really following that girl all this way?”
“No, I’m not, but I tried to.”
“Why?”
Only a youngster could have been guilty of such bald-faced impertinence. “Why does any man follow a woman?” Then I laughed, mostly at myself. “But that’s not the reason I was trying to catch up with her.”
“Then you’re not in love with her, as Robin said you were?”
“You don’t have to be in love with a girl to follow her,” I rasped. “Sometimes you only want to know her recipe for bread pudding.”
Having had his nose chopped off for putting it where it didn’t belong, he looked at me as if it was all my fault. “I know about men and women, too; but Robin said — ”
“Robin implied I was in love,” I interrupted, “and suspected I was doing some cold-blooded skirt trailing. As a matter of fact, he’s got it all wrong.”
“Really?”
The knowing way he pursed his lips when he said that annoyed me enough to make me want to clarify my position. “She’s just a sort of friend of mine, or even less than that. But she has no business moseying around these woods by herself, and I’d like to make sure she’s all right.”
“Oh.” He paused, staring at the fire. “That’s nice.”
As long as we were dealing in personal curiosity, I thought it was my turn. “What makes an educated kid like you want to throw in with these thugs?”
“Robin’s educated.”
I flicked that quibble away with my hand. “Robin has his own reasons. I’m asking yours.”
“Well, I told them I want to be one of them, because I’m going to be in the woods; and it’s safer that way. With people like these you’re either an ally or an enemy.”
That showed more philosophy than I looked for in such youth. “Sure. If you can’t lick ’em, join ’em,” I conceded. “But what really brought you into the woods in the first place?”
“Nothing as romantic as your motive. I’m looking for a man.”
“Does he owe you money, or do you want to take a swing at him?”
Nicolind smiled, but as if half thinking of something else. “Neither,” he said after a moment. “Our relations are quite satisfactory.”
“A pal, eh?” As I spoke, however, my attention had shifted. The man with the ale was coming our way, and I was anxious to catch his eye. At length I did so. “Fill her up, chum. Easy. Save some of that foam for the others.”
The fire was not blazing so high now. The hardwood logs had settled down to a steady burning, and there was a blue core to the flame. The men sitting across from us did not have whole faces. Of most of them all I could see were brows, noses, and cheekbones shining against the night. But if many mouths were invisible, a lot of them were making plenty of noise. There was some wrangling but more laughing. A small group was shooting dice, but talk was the order of the moment. The men to our right were arguing as to how long wood should be seasoned before it became right for bow making. Those nearest my left ear were trading their Sunday lies and making the saints go bail for them.
“There was something like that happened to me,” one of them said after hearing a companion out. “The month before I took to the woods — no, it must have been two months before — the prettiest little brown-eyed chicken you ever set eyes on came to visit the folks next door.” For lack of adequate words he whistled. “She was really stacked! Well, sir, she fell for me like a ton of bricks through greased air. When I played dumb, she started makin’ passes at me, but I’d made up my mind I wasn’t goin’ to touch her. She was just a kid, and she’d spent all her life in a convent, see?”
One of his hearers had apparently had to fight off similar attentions from beautiful innocence. “Yeah,” he said. “I know how that is. You just don’t feel right about it.”
“That’s it. Well, for a week or so it went along that way, until one night — ”
I never did learn how his nobility was undermined, as I have no doubt it was, for just then there was an uproar from somewhere on our side of the fire. It ceased instantly, however, when a horn blew.
“What’s going on?” Robin’s voice demanded.
“We want Little John,” a chorus shouted.
“Aw, hell!” I heard the big man say. “Let somebody else sing. I’m drinking.”
Robin laughed. “Take his ale away from him and throw him into the ring,” he advised.
It took some doing. Six or seven men were knocked flat in the process, but eventually John was thrust inside the circle. At that point he stopped opposing the general will. It was clear from his expression that he was pleased at the demand and that he would try to give satisfaction.
“Wait till I get my breath back,” he said. “And remember. The guy who drinks my ale better get ready to swallow the horn, too.”
My first thought was that his singing and his size teamed to make a popular joke. I changed my mind when he started. He had the volume of a moose on the make, but there was quality also.
They said they caught me in the act,
Green leaves,
The sheriff rode, the bloodhounds tracked,
Green leaves;
There was the law, there was not any doubt of it,
There was the law, so I hustled right out of it;
Having but one life, I thought I'd refuse it
To those who were seeking but never would use it,
So I hit for cover in green leaves.
They meant me for a gallows nut,
Green leaves,
A rope to hold my gullet shut,
Green leaves;
That was their plan, there is not any doubt of it,
That was their plan, I was shrewd to get out of it;
Some of my guts I'd give up without thinking
But never my gullet, I need it for drinking,
So I took it with me to green leaves.
My woman sleeps alone tonight,
Green leaves,
Or cuddles with some other wight,
Green leaves;
This is my grief, there is not any doubt of it,
This is my grief, I can make no good out of it;
Hunting and stealing, I'm pleased to discover,
Are simpler than working, but I had a lover
I couldn’t take with me to green leaves.
But, oh, the stalking of the stag,
Green leaves,
The ale cask found amongst the swag,
Green leaves;
Here is what’s good, there is not any doubt of it,
Here is what’s good, and I take my pay out of it;
Robbing the rich man to help the poor devil —
Myself — and rewarding myself with a revel,
Its not a bad life under green leaves.
John sang one or two others, then started leading songs. They were all ready for it, as each had had enough ale to be carried away by the feeling of the words and the music. They weren’t alone in that. There probably w
asn’t as much melody as I remember — I had had some ale, too — but I experienced a pervasive sense of blending with life at its most dramatic.
“Is this bellowing going to make a recruit out of you?”
The spell snapped, as I looked into Robin’s lively eyes. “If you’d caught me just as I was reaching soulfully for one of those deep notes, I’d have signed up,” I confessed. “What’s happened to the ale?”
“It’s turned off, so it won’t be long before the harmony is.” The outlaw smiled at Nicolind. “What about you, youngblood? You haven’t changed your mind?”
Nicolind hadn’t been singing, though I had heard him humming several of the tunes. “Not a chance of that. I know it will be fun.”
“You do, eh? Well, if you still feel that way after the sheriff’s men start shooting arrows at you, we’ll talk business.” He looked at me. “Shandon, you’re my Lady’s Day guest. Remember. If you need any money or help, you’re entitled to it.”
No doubt they all behaved while right under Robin’s eye; but even if I could persuade him that my intentions were of the best, I didn’t want Rosalette hunted for by his women-starved men. “Thanks,” I said. “So far I’ve got along all right without cash. In case I decided to pull out, though, could you show me where a place called Heorot is?”
“Never heard of it, but I’ll try to find out.” Robin stood up. “Come along, and I’ll give you some pelts to bed down with before somebody hogs them to sleep on.”
By the time he had supplied us with some skins to wrap around us, the singing had begun to die down. Robin promptly left us. Saying good night to Nicolind, I was facing the dark, waiting for my eyes to get used to it, when he touched me on the arm.
“Where are you going to sleep?”
The only thing to do was to find a spot far enough from the fire so that late comers wouldn’t step on you. “You’ll find me in the bridal suite,” I grunted.
He tried to laugh but didn’t make it. “Do you mind if I go where you do?”
Later I might pick a partner, but I didn’t expect to choose a youngster whose voice hadn’t yet finished changing. The fact that we had been thrown together our first night with the gang was not a bond I recognized. I was about to tell him to look after himself when I realized that since speaking he had held his breath. He was afraid either of being by himself or of being with the outlaws at night.
Silverlock (Prologue Books) Page 9