Heart of Sherwood

by Edale Lane

  Friar Tuck clutched the cross at his chest and raised his eyes toward the sky, praying, "Heaven help us!" Then he replied to the soldier, "As you say."

  He loathed to leave his friends to wage battle without him but, in agonizing regret, he understood that he must. All the money had been secured and the longer he tarried, the greater the chance it would be discovered. To this point, the Sheriff didn't even know the fortune was missing. He led the sturdy gelding pulling the wagon to the gate where the newly arrived warriors awaited studying the situation before plunging in and killing one of their own by mistake.

  "Take care, good protectors of Nottingham," he admonished them. "I pray no one dies this day." And he did.

  It was with a heavy heart and extreme effort that he climbed onto the seat and drove away. He felt like he was leaving a part of himself behind those walls. Robin's words and the penetrating resonance in his youthful voice compelled him.

  "The mission is what matters. Above all else, no matter what–get the silver and Marian to the Queen."

  Given no other choice, Friar Tuck steeled his emotions and rumbled down the street to the designated place to meet 'Sister' Marian.

  *~*~*

  As Robyn dashed out of the blacksmith's stable onto the street, she saw Tuck driving a heavy mead wagon away from the castle gate. Yes! She gleamed in triumph. They must have succeeded! But her joy swiftly melted into distress as she detected the sounds of battle. She slowed her pace, weaving through the confusion in the thoroughfare.

  "We were attacked by a bear!" one woman shrieked.

  "Soldiers were arresting the archery contestants," declared another.

  "The castle guards have gone mad!" announced a commoner as he held a blood-soaked cloth to his forearm. "They are trying to kill each other and cut me in the process. Bloody crazed, I tell you!"

  Not what I wanted to hear, she thought as she slipped unnoticed through the crowd. Upon seeing a group of four of the soldiers whom she had been leading on a grand chase standing just inside the gate, she decided to go around to the side and slip in there instead. She meandered through the energized populace who continued to add more amazing details to their stories with each retelling.

  She snickered and had to cover her mouth when she overheard one woman say, "And then I saw Robin Hood himself, tall and rugged as a mountain, leap into the sky and vanish like a fog into thin air!"

  Once around the corner and off the main street, the crowd thinned out to only a small trickle making their way to or from the Ye Olde Trip to Jerusalem tavern at the bottom of the hill. Notching her bow, she crept through a side entrance and took inventory of the situation.

  A good dozen of the guards lay moaning or unconscious on the ground while a few others simply swung a sword at whoever was near them. Scanning the mayhem, she laid eyes on each of her men. David, Much, and Arthur each fought beside one of the refugee volunteers as to lend them support while Little John and Alan, both bloodied, aggressively battled back two soldiers each.

  All of a sudden one of the Sheriff's men approached Alan from behind brandishing a long handled pike. She tried to take aim, but Alan stood in her trajectory. In an instant, the spear-wielding enemy was struck in the back, dropped his weapon, and fell to his knees. She raised her gaze beyond the fray and spotted Gilbert, bow still in hand from having made the shot.

  Away from the others and surrounded by Emory and three guards, she witnessed Will battling with everything he had. Blood ran from his head and left arm, but he continued to swing two swords. He needed her help the most. She got several shots off, wounding a couple of Will's attackers before Emory spun about to spy where the arrows had originated.

  "Get him!" he shouted pointing at Robyn. Two large assailants rushed forward with weapons raised. She pulled two arrows and fired them at once.

  Fortuitously, the guards were close enough together that each received a hit, but only one was halted by the strike. The larger of the two simply ripped the arrow from his upper arm and kept advancing. She then tossed her bow over her shoulder, drew her sword, side-stepped the stampeding hulk, and cut a slice across his back as he passed her. She scarcely noticed his yelp of pain amid the din of clanking steel and shouts of intimidation. Forward motion propelled him into the castle wall and he finally stopped, leaning against the stones for support. Again she started toward Will in time to see Emory's sword penetrate deep into his gut.

  "Will!" she screamed in anguish as she charged. Emory had just withdrawn his blade when she struck him from behind. It was a disarming and disabling blow, but not a killing one. He crumbled to one knee in shock and looked over his shoulder at her. In anger and grief, she kicked him in the face and he tumbled back into the dirt, the sword falling from his hand.

  She met two other soldiers who had been engaged trying to kill her friend and wasted no time with fancy fencing. She feinted toward the one on her left, then spun to her right, at the last moment striking the man's sword arm with such power as to break the bone. He grasped his dangling hand as he ran away in pain. Before the other guard had even registered what had happened, Robyn kicked his knee with her left foot and heard the crack. Regaining her balance, she brought her sword down against him. He lifted his weapon in both hands to block as he was in no position to fight back balancing on his only remaining good leg. The ferocity of her strike on the flat of his blade was enough to break it just as it had broken his comrade's forearm. Left with no means to defend himself, he limped away.

  After a quick glance showed that there we no other conscious foes near at the moment, Robyn dropped to her knees at her friend's side.

  "Will." She spoke his name with such tender compassion as she clasped her left hand in his. She sheathed her sword and pressed her right hand to his wound in hopes to slow the massive crimson flow.

  He groaned in pain as tears mingled with blood ran down his face. "I'm sorry, Robin, I'm so sorry!"

  "Don't worry about that, Will. Blanchard told me the Sheriff had your mum; it isn't your fault. Sure, I wish you had told me–we could have rescued her."

  "I was afraid," he answered and then coughed a red spray. "I didn't know what to do. Robin," he said then paused to let out a tormented cry with his eyes squeezed shut.

  "I'm here, Will; we're going to get you out of here. Everything will be alright." Pain gripped her heart as she knew that wasn't true. This wound was too severe, and the blood poured out too fast. She wished with her whole soul that he could be saved. If we take him to a surgeon, she thought, but no. She had grown to love Will Scarlet like a brother. Why hadn't he just told her? She shook her head as tears started in her own eyes. "Just hang on."

  "Marian," he said as color drained from his once rosy cheeks.

  "What about her?" Robyn squeezed his hand when she saw his eyes try to close.

  He coughed again and winced in pain before continuing. "You have to save her. Sir Guy. He was draggin' her to the chapel shouting about how he wasn't goin' to wait any longer, and she was goin' to be his one way or another."

  "Bloody hell!" Robyn toughened her emotions with new resolve.

  "Robin," Will said as he gripped her hand with his last ounce of strength. "I'm beyond forgiveness, I know, but please…" He tried to fix his eyes on hers. "Save me mum. Save Marian, then save me mum."

  Robyn's heart melted at his plea. "Of course you are forgiven; you're my brother, remember? Now don't worry; I'll get your mother out, safe and sound, you hear me? I'll free her." A faint smile crossed his red lips as he struggled to take a breath. Then she cradled his cheeks with her hands soaked in his blood and kissed his forehead. "You be alive when I get back, you hear?"

  His eyes closed, a look of serenity calming his battered features. "I love you."

  "No farewells, Will Scarlet," she demanded, then added. "I love you, too."

  Robyn gently released him, set her jaw, and took off toward the chapel at a dead run.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  "I'm not so certain about this, Sir
Guy," Bishop Albrec said hesitantly as he stood before Gisborne and Marian at the altar. He clung to his prayer book with a very uneasy expression. "The lady does not appear willing, milord."

  "I am not willing at all!" Marian spewed while her captor held tight to the end of the rope secured around her wrists. "See how he has bound me and dragged me in here?" Her face flushed with the same indignation that sounded in her voice.

  "Your Grace," Sir Guy explained innocently. "An arrangement has been made. The lady forgets herself. She is merely having second thoughts."

  Robyn didn't have time to watch the whole sordid scene play out; she needed to get Marian, Will's mother, and her men out of there before the Sheriff arrived. No one had noticed her stealthy entrance, so the arrow seemed to fly from nowhere taking them all by surprise. It pinned the bishop's miter to the wall behind him as his mouth fell open in a gasp.

  His eyes popped wide, and he dropped his book. Raising his hands and stumbling back, he cried, "Don't shoot; I am a man of the cloth!"

  Sir Guy and Marian turned at once to spy Robyn approaching as she slung her bow over one shoulder. "I know exactly who you are," she retorted in a low dangerous tone.

  Gisborne pressed in front of Marian and announced, "Maid Marian is mine, and you cannot have her! There is nothing here for you, Hood."

  She cocked her head, staring at him with piercing eyes as she halted a few strides away. "Marian is neither yours nor mine, Gisborne. She is her own person with a right to choose for herself."

  As Sir Guy started to go for his sword, Marian yanked the rope from his hands and scurried toward Robyn.

  "Thank Heavens you are here!" she exclaimed. Robyn pulled a dagger from its sheath in the small of her back and efficiently sliced Marian's bindings with its honed blade. Marian threw her arms around Robyn in greeting and kissed her cheek.

  Gisborne froze with his pudgy hand on the hilt of his sword, a thoroughly confused expression emerging on his face, while Albrec inched his way toward the side door.

  "What is this?" Sir Guy asked in a tone that expressed his offense. "Maid Marian, assuredly you are not in league with this bandit!"

  She started to reply, but Robyn broke in, preventing Marian from saying something that could come back to harm her. "That is none of your concern, Gisborne," she stated. Replacing the dagger and laying hold to her own sword, she took a step away from Marian and looked her in the eyes. "You need to get to safety; I'll teach this oaf a lesson in manners."

  "I am not leaving without you," Marian declared, holding her ground.

  Robyn rolled her eyes and sighed.

  With indignant ire glaring in his typically dull expression, Sir Guy jerked a shiny, unmarked blade from its scabbard and shouted, "I shall be the one teaching you a lesson, you insolent cur!"

  Marian took a step back as Robyn crossed swords with her older, heavier opponent.

  After trading a few blows, Gisborne continued. "You may be fine with a bow, but I was a tournament champion with lance and sword. You are a fool to challenge me."

  His words rang hollow as she out maneuvered him at every turn. Sweat poured from Gisborne's brow and his movements were labored. Scarcely a minute passed before Robyn disarmed him and knocked him to the floor where he landed with a dull thud.

  "Don't kill him!" Marian's voice beseeched her. "He is not of much import."

  Gazing down into Guy's face, Robyn saw a little boy who bragged to cover his insecurities and looked like he had just lost his last friend instead of the cruel, arrogant conspirator that she knew the adult to be. She placed one foot on either side of his girth, scooped up a fist full of his tunic and spoke in a low, ominous growl. "If you ever touch Maid Marian again, I will end you." Then she slammed his head back onto the pine lath in a way she was sure to get her point across with a lump and a roaring headache. For good measure, she picked up his sword and in a smooth, fluid motion, lodged it into the floorboards inches from his right ear.

  Sprinting the short distance to where Marian stood, she took both of her hands and the two locked gazes. "Will is dying, and I must save his mother from the dungeon. You know what you have to do."

  She saw the instant grief glisten in Marian's eyes at the news about her friend. She gave Robyn's hands a squeeze. "Yes. God be with you, and I will see you soon." They parted ways after the briefest of kisses, Marian toward the castle gate and Robyn into the keep.

  She met no resistance inside the stronghold as all the guards were battling in the courtyard, but the foul jailer stood in her way upon descending into the bowels of the fortress. He only grunted and yanked out the two arrows she put in him as a discouragement. When he flexed the bulging biceps of his bare arms and sneered at her with a mouth half void of teeth, she became impatient and struck him with a wrought iron candle holder which did the trick. Replete with emotion, she released all the prisoners and led them out.

  The attractive brunette, although glad to have been freed, permeated with dread for her son. She thought not about her own safety as she ran through the mayhem to fall on her knees beside his motionless body and weep. Robyn dodged swinging swords to get to Little John.

  "We're leaving," she announced. "Come, I need you to carry Will."

  Little John frowned at her and crashed the pike in his hands over his attacker's head. "He is a traitor! Do you know what he did?"

  "I do," came her somber reply. "He tried to save his mum from the Sheriff the only way he knew how. Did he not fight bravely at your side this day?"

  He cast his gaze toward where Will's body lay covered in blood with his grieving mother beside him. He sighed, a tinge of guilt clouding his eyes. "Giffard had his mother? Blazes, why didn't he just say so?" Little John jabbed the blunt end of his weapon into the gut of a guard who was approaching from the left. "Woe's sake, he got hisself killed." The big man shook his head.

  "I'll cover you," she said as she armed her bow. Then she shouted, "Hey lads, time to go!"

  Little John lifted Will's limp body into his arms as effortlessly as he would have a child while the woman followed close behind. Gilbert joined Robyn near the side gate where they both laid down arrows for their friends' escape. Concern rose in Robyn as she saw Arthur and Isaac on either side of Roger hauling him through the sea of castle guards. Once clear of the exit, they all turned and ran for the forest edge, scattering and disappearing like leaves in the wind.

  *~*~*

  Sheriff Giffard, accompanied by his personal bodyguards, strode down the dirt road toward Nottingham Castle. He had been in process of examining each of the archers when all hell had broken loose. Spectators began dashing about in sundry directions, frantically screaming when the great taunted bear broke free. Soldiers had been dispatched to kill it and restore order, but they had not returned. Deputy Blanchard was nowhere to be found and Godfrey had determined that none of these contestants was his arch-enemy.

  While the Prince and other barons watched from their seats on the platform in anticipation, he had seen Sir Guy stomp away with a protesting Maid Marian and a baffled Bishop Albrec in tow. With the event now totally disrupted and no hope of being restored, he concluded he had best check on the castle.

  This has been a miserable failure, he bemoaned, grinding his teeth. But if the forty-thousand marks was safe, they were no worse for the misadventure.

  He stopped short at the main gate as he spied the grounds littered with wounded guards and confounded combatants. "Why swing your sword at me, Hugo!" shouted one. "We have served together for years." He batted his fellow's blade aside.

  "Begging your pardon," he replied and blinked his eyes. "In your helm and mail, you look just like the bandit I fought a moment ago."

  In a quick scan of the yard, Godfrey caught a glimpse of two bowmen at the side entrance letting loose a last arrow each before turning to dash out of sight. "After them!" he commanded in a booming voice. Abruptly, all the remaining guards stopped still and turned their heads toward the Sheriff.

  "You fools!" he
bellowed in fury. "Chase down those archers. One of them is Robin Hood!"

  In an instant, they obeyed, and all who could walk spilled through the gate into the street.

  "You men, come with me," Gifford instructed his cadre of personal guards, and they raced to the chapel. A maid peered out of a castle door and Godfrey barked at her. "Get help for these wounded, you feeble-minded wench!" Then he shoved open the chapel doors.

  His procession followed him in but waited near the rear as he rushed to the dais, pulled the trigger sconce, and watched as the pulpit slid back.

  "Sardin' shite, it can't be!" Panic seized his heart like a vice and he began to tremble.

  "My lord," inquired a soldier. "Is something amiss?"

  "No, no, all is well," he replied in haste then pushed the lever to close the secret hole. "Stand guard on this chapel and let no one enter," he demanded.

  "Yes, sir!" The bodyguards snapped to attention as their lord passed them.

  Dread consumed him as Godfrey ran into his office and locked the door, then leaned against it as he tried to breathe. It was like endeavoring to draw air through a wet blanket as his heartbeat pulsed through his whole body. My life is over! Prince John will have my head for this–literally! He reached inside himself with granite resolve to calm the terror and focus that energy in a more constructive direction. If we can catch him and get it back before the Prince discovers it is missing…

  A knock rapped at his door. "Sheriff Giffard, are you there?" He recognized that deep voice.

  Once more commanding self-control, Godfrey turned the latch. "Deputy," he replied as he let him in and then re-locked the office behind them. "Please tell me you caught that sardin' swine."

  But the look of dismay on the deputy's face said it all. "'Twas he what released the bear and started the confusion. We were all chasing after him through the woods. I did catch up to him once and we fought. God's teeth, Sheriff!" Blanchard declared in total disbelief. "He is skilled with a sword! Who would have known it? But after wounding me the little miscreant ran off, and with my hurt leg," he motioned toward the obvious tear in his blood-soaked trousers, "I couldn't keep up. Even now the castle guard is in pursuit."