Orphan of Destiny tyt-3

by Michael Spradlin

  “All of you are free. Leave now. Return to your homes and families. If you’ve a mind, join me in Sherwood. Thanks to this man, we don’t have much, but we’ll share what we have. If you’re no friend to tyranny, find me there,” he said.

  Some of the men, exhausted and abused as they were, remained still, too afraid to move. But eventually they filed out of their cells. Some of them limping and moving gingerly, a few helping the sick and infirm. Slowly at first, then more rapidly they filed past me and down the hallway to the constabulary.

  Robard prodded the bailiff into the cell with his own sword. Suddenly, the other bailiff made a move. Angel barked in warning and I shouted. Wendenal tried to squirm away, but I grabbed him by the collar of his cape and held him firmly, making sure he could feel my sword at his back. As the bailiff advanced, Robard threw open the cell door, catching the man square in the face. He tumbled to the ground like a sack of potatoes.

  Groaning with the effort, Robard dragged the unconscious man into the center cell and locked him in.

  “All right, Shire Reeve,” he said. “In you go.”

  “You are insane. I will see you both hang for this,” Wendenal sputtered.

  I pushed him forward roughly and he stumbled into the last remaining empty cell. Robard turned the key in the lock and smiled, though it appeared to cause him pain. He shuffled across the room and stuffed the keys in his belt, then snatched up his bow and wallet from where they had been stacked in the corner.

  “I will find you,” Wendenal said through the bars, his voice full of rage. “My men and I will hunt you down and you will both hang.”

  Robard walked back to the cell, staring at Wendenal through the bars.

  “My name is Robard Hode, son of Robard Hode the second, and I consider you his murderer. I’m returning to my land in Sherwood Forest, and if you intend to hang me, find me there if you can, or dare. Enjoy your stay in your own jail, Shire Reeve.” Robard limped over to me, putting his hand on my shoulder. His face was bruised and scratched, and it was difficult for him to move, though he tried not to show it.

  “I knew you’d come for me,” he said.

  “You’d do the same. In fact, you already have.”

  “Aye. So what do you suggest we do next?” he asked.

  “Run,” I said.

  “That’s the best plan I think you’ve ever had,” he said.

  So, with Angel barking and leading us down the hallway, and as quickly as Robard’s wounds would allow, we ran.

  We had not reached the front room before the shouts of Wendenal and his bailiffs rang out. We burst through the door into the street and squinted at the light. Maryam raced to Robard’s side and pulled him into a fierce embrace. There was joy on her face mixed with the rage she felt at seeing him so beaten. For a moment, I toyed with the idea of sending Maryam into the jail with her daggers and letting her settle with the Shire Reeve.

  Tuck and John joined our little group, and across the street I saw Will and his men stand ready, drawing arrows. Tuck quickly examined Robard’s arms and hands and shook his head to me while making a motion with his hands as if he were snapping a twig in two.

  “Tuck says you have nothing broken,” I said.

  “Really? Have him check again if you don’t mind, for I certainly feel as if I do.” Robard smiled grimly. This only caused Maryam to hug him harder and this time he squawked in pain. “Easy, Maryam. You win this round,” he joked.

  Allan approached quickly with our horses.

  “Little John, I expect a few men will be shortly coming out the door there. Would you stand ready?” I asked.

  As we helped Robard into the saddle, a window above the jail crashed open and a crossbow poked through. “Ho!” Will shouted in alarm. He and three of his men stepped forward from their hiding places and sent a hail of arrows at the window, driving the man there back in retreat before he could get a shot off.

  The door to the jail crashed open and two bailiffs rushed out. “Halt in the na-” one of them tried to say, but Little John’s staff took the man square in the gut and drove him to the ground. The man behind him had his sword at the ready, but before he could move, Little John snapped the end of his staff into his jaw and he fell to the muddy street unconscious. The downed man tried to stand, but John drove a very large fist into his jaw, and he collapsed and moved no more. Very quickly Little John produced a small length of rope from his tunic and wrapped one end securely through the large wooden handle on the door. He tied the other end tightly to a nearby hitching post, which effectively made the door impossible to open from the inside.

  Curious onlookers gathered in the street outside the jail, and when they saw Little John and Will Scarlet besting the Shire Reeve’s men, many of them cheered. The noise brought more villagers to investigate the commotion. Before he mounted his horse, Allan Aidale climbed up on top of a nearby barrel and shouted, “Why, it must be the Merry Men we’ve heard tell of! They’ve come to test the Shire Reeve! Only they could stand against him!” And he exhorted the crowd to chant, “Merry Men! Merry Men!”

  With the cheers of the townsfolk ringing in our ears we goaded our horses to run and rode hard and fast for Sherwood Forest.

  23

  Robard,” I asked as we galloped along, “do you think this is a good idea?”

  “What?” he said through gritted teeth. I felt his misery. My side still ached from my wound, though Tuck’s salves had made it considerably better. I knew how painful it was to ride a horse in such a condition.

  “Riding straight to Sherwood? Why don’t we hide out somewhere else?”

  “We could, but where would we go?” he countered. “In Sherwood, we have places to hide, the people are on our side, and we know the terrain far better than he does. It will give us a great advantage. Besides, we can’t leave my mother unprotected.”

  I supposed Robard was right, but I couldn’t help but worry. We had managed to make another powerful enemy, and I was sure, once the Shire Reeve put out news of us, that Sir Hugh would hear of our exploits here. He wouldn’t care a whit about Sherwood’s people or terrain or anything else. He would strike at us no matter where we decided to hide.

  We rode on in silence. There was nothing to say. We needed to put space between ourselves and Nottingham. Then we needed rest and food. And a plan.

  The woods deepened as we rode on through the remaining daylight. Though it was winter, the trees grew thicker and the stark beauty of the landscape revealed itself. This forest must be glorious in spring and summer, I thought as we rode along.

  Toward twilight, we steered off the main trail and cut into the woods before pulling up at a spring to water the horses. Robard nearly tumbled from the saddle, then walked stiff legged back and forth, trying to work the soreness out of his bones. While we waited, Will and his men made a thorough check of the horses, inspecting their hooves and forelegs.

  “They’re nearly ready to give out, Rob,” Will said to Robard.

  “I know. Not much farther, though,” Robard replied.

  I watched in fascination as Allan shinnied up a nearby tree. He kept climbing high into the branches.

  “What is he doing?” I asked.

  “Watch,” Robard said.

  He finally reached a spot where the tree branches split off into two massive limbs, reached inside a hollow in the trunk of the tree and removed a small bundle wrapped in some kind of cloth, and then another, dropping them where they were carefully caught by one of Will’s men. As Allan scampered down, the other men unwrapped each of the bundles to reveal perhaps three dozen arrows.

  I shook my head in amazement as Robard and Will and the rest replenished their wallets with a fresh supply of shafts. I marveled at their ingenuity.

  Shortly after nightfall, we rode back into the yard of the Hodes’ manor house. Mistress Hode was overcome with relief as she ran down the steps and pulled Robard into a hug so strong that Robard cried out in pain.

  “Oh! Easy, Mother, I’m a little br
uised up,” he said, trying to smile.

  As quickly as she embraced him, she stepped free and then whacked him hard across the cheek.

  “Ow! What was that for?” he cried.

  She smacked him again, but he saw that one coming and put up his arms to block her.

  “You stubborn, pigheaded, foolish man! Just like your father, only you are worse! What were you thinking to give me such a fright? Riding off to get yourself killed when you’ve just come back to me? I should cut me a length of birch and give your thick hide the tanning it deserves!”

  Robard looked sheepish.

  “You are thane now, Robard. Your folk look to you for guidance and protection the very same way they did your father and his before him. And what is it you do first chance you get? Traipse off to pick a fight. You’re lucky he didn’t hang you!” She had worked up a real temper, and Robard soon realized there was nothing to do but let her run it out.

  “I’m sorry, Mother,” Robard said quietly. This brought another rain of blows, which he tried to duck beneath as much as his sore body would allow.

  “I’ll show you sorry! I’ve met horses what have more sense than you! I can’t do it, Robin boy. I lost your father, and I’ll not lose you,” she cried, and with tears on her cheeks, she ran back to the house.

  We stood there in shocked silence, and then Maryam faced Robard.

  “I haven’t seen her so angry since-” but he never got to finish his thought, for Maryam’s right fist came out of nowhere and connected with the point of his chin. Completely unprepared, Robard flew backward, landing on the cold ground.

  “I agree with everything your mother said. And if you ever do anything like this again, you’ll wish you were back in that cell.” She left him sprawled on the ground and followed Mrs. Hode into the house.

  Little John was suddenly consumed with a coughing fit, which sounded an awful lot like muffled laughter behind his giant fist. Robard gazed up at me in wonderment, hoping for some kind of explanation.

  “Don’t look at me,” I said as I helped him to his feet. “Grew up in a monastery, remember?”

  Robard shrugged and tried to stretch his aching back. He had a serious look on his face, but was clearly happy to be home.

  “Mr. John Little,” Robard said, putting out his hand, “I owe you an apology. You stood by us, and came to my aid in Nottingham when I did nothing to deserve it. Tristan, as usual, was right about you.”

  Little John took Robard’s hand with no hesitation. “No harm, lad. What happened on that old bridge is behind us as far as I’m concerned. But now you’re safe home, and I’d best be moving on.”

  “About that,” Robard interrupted. “You’re welcome to stay if you like. As you can see, there’s work needs to be done here. A man with a steady hand could find plenty to do. Tristan and Maryam and I will be leaving for a short while, and I’d like someone to keep an eye on things. Will’s a good man, but he belongs in the fields and forest. There’s no pay, but you’ll have food and a roof over your head, if you’re willing. Whenever there’s real money to be had, I give you my word you’ll be treated fairly.”

  Little John didn’t need to take long to consider Robard’s offer. “Best offer I’ve had in a while.” They shook hands. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to begin. I think I’ll have a look at your forge in the barn. Tristan, I expect after what happened in town, you and Robard here have a lot to talk about. So maybe you can tell Tuck to come with me, and we’ll take stock and see what needs to be done before the Shire Reeve shows up.”

  There wasn’t much daylight left, but I took Tuck’s hand and pointed to Little John and the distant barn, and he immediately understood. He took Charlemagne by the reins and followed obediently.

  “He’s right,” I said, glancing after them. “We have to get ready, Robard. The Shire Reeve will be coming after us. He won’t allow what we did to go unpunished. And I’m sure he’ll send word to the court of Prince John asking for funds to raise more bailiffs. He’ll offer a reward for the both of us. And if news of our exploits reaches the court, you know it will be whispered into Sir Hugh’s ear.”

  I felt guilty. Remembering what Sir Hugh had done to St. Alban’s, even before he knew I had the Grail, made me shudder. The thought of his bringing vengeance down on Robard and his family was more than I could bear.

  “It might be best if I left,” I said. “If I head out on my own and make myself visible, make a trail for Sir Hugh to follow, he might not come here. It would still leave you to handle the Shire Reeve. Maybe it might be better for everyone if you took your mother and found a place to hide in the forest.”

  Robard stared at me, disgusted.

  “Are you mad? First, I will never give up Hode land without a fight. Second, you wouldn’t last a day trying to make your way out of here to the north through Scotland alone. Now listen to me, for this is the last time I’m going to say it. I made a promise to you, swearing to be with you to the end. Nothing has changed. Not some Shire Reeve or Sir Hugh or anything else will come between us and finishing our job. Are we clear?”

  My eyes nearly watered, but I nodded.

  “Good. It’s settled. Come with me, there’s something I want to show you,” he said. “But first, I also want to apologize for what happened in the barn this morning. It’s just. . I knew you’d talk me out of it, and I was so blind with anger, I couldn’t let you. It was all I could think to do. I hope you’ll forgive me,” he said, holding out his hand. I shook it, assuring him I did.

  We strolled up the steps of the porch and entered the house. Inside the door was a series of pegs made from deer antlers where Robard hung up his bow and wallet. I removed my swords and followed him into the main room where I’d slept the night before. At the far end stood a fireplace, and above it a large sword rested on two wooden pegs.

  Robard pulled the sword down and handed it to me. It was old-I could tell by the worn leather of the hilt and the marks and nicks upon the steel. But the edge was still sharp, and I felt the heft of it in my hand. It was not as large as Sir Thomas’ battle sword, but it had once been a fine weapon.

  “This sword belonged to my grandfather’s grandfather,” Robard said. “He carried it at Hastings when Harold took on Willy Bastard. It was luck and treachery that brought victory to the Norman swine that day.”

  “It’s beautiful,” I said. Robard took it back from me.

  “Yes it is, and it has hung here since he returned more than one hundred years ago. We Hodes have always answered the call of King and Country even when the king is a wretch, like the Lionheart.” Robard spat in the fireplace at the mention of Richard. “My family has lived on this very spot for hundreds of years. My ancestors pushed back Viking raiders and we fought willingly with the Saxon kings. But William changed everything. Still he won the fight and called himself King, and we Hodes swore our allegiance and continued to support the crown. My father used to say there wasn’t a Norman king worth half a crosslet until King Henry II. Yet we did our duty. Father said, ‘You fight for the throne, not always the man who sits on it.’ And when we couldn’t pay the taxes the crown asked of us, we made an agreement and honored it. I served and gave the Lionheart two years of my life for forgiveness of my father’s debt.”

  “I’m not sure I understand your point, Robard,” I said.

  “My point is this: I rode into Nottingham aflame, ready to strike down William Wendenal for what he’d done to my father. Like I usually do, I went straight at him full of anger and not thinking. His bailiffs clubbed me down and threw me in his jail with the rest of my countrymen and he took joy in quoting the law to me. It was taxes this and levies that and those of us in those cells were nothing but ignorant peasants who weren’t entitled to anything but what the crown grants us, if that.” He held the sword up so I could see it clearly.

  “William Wendenal will come for me in force, and I’ll beat him back, make him wish he’d never heard the name Hode. But my defeating him won’t solve a thing. While I sat
there in the jail cell, I realized the law is on his side. No matter what I say or do, it’s what’s written down that matters. And I can’t fight it, because I don’t even know what I’m fighting. You have to understand your enemy before you can defeat him, and my enemy is not the Shire Reeve of Nottingham, it’s the laws he represents.”

  “I understand, Robard, but what can you do?” I asked.

  “I need to know what it is I’m fighting, Tristan. For the many years we Hodes have lived here, we’ve done right by the land and our people. We took a fair piece of each man’s harvest who worked our hides, our plots of land. In return they received our protection. In hard times and bad harvests everyone took less to get by. Justice was decided based on what was fair and true, and every man had a chance to speak his piece before his peers, no matter what he might be accused of. Before I left for war, there were more than thirty families working Hode land, and my father and his father before him never made a decision without thinking what was right for our folk. It was our way, but it’s gone. Now we sit at the mercy of some king and his Shire Reeves who do nothing but throw words at us. Words we cannot understand.” He knelt and poked at the logs in the fire, stirring the coals so the flames caught again.

  “Robard, what is it you seek? How can I help?” I asked.

  When he stood, his expression was as serious as I’ve ever seen it.

  “My father is gone, Tristan. I’m the thane now, and I’ll lose our lands for sure if I can’t learn these laws and throw their own words back at them. I’ll fight for my land and my people, and I’ll die for them if I must and not think twice, but if there’s one thing the Lionheart taught me, it is that if you’re going to fight, fight smart.”

  He put his hands on his hips and stared at the flames a few minutes.

  “I don’t ask this lightly, Tristan, and I’ll thank you not to laugh at my request,” he said.

  “Of course not, Robard,” I said.

  It took him a moment as several emotions crawled across his face. Pride, anger, frustration and embarrassment, but finally determination.