The signal! Robin and the other men let their knives lower. John quickly stuffed a last piece of roast into his mouth, chewed, swallowed, and wiped his fingers on his doublet. The feast was over.
Richard at the Lea raised his silver chalice. “A toast would be insufficient to praise this generosity. Therefore, gentlemen, I ask you from the bottom of my heart to accept my gratitude!”
Robin never touched his goblet. “I would like to, Sir Knight, but the picture is upside down.” His lieutenants nodded approvingly. Only John’s jaw dropped in surprise.
“I’m afraid I don’t follow.” Slowly, Richard at the Lea put down the chalice.
Robin frowned. “The bondsman gives to the lord? The yeoman entertains the baron? It’s against every custom.” He put his hands together over his chest. “Therefore, I beseech you, sir, turn the picture right side up and pay us for the meal, for all the trouble we have taken.”
John shut his mouth. You’re a sly fox, Robin; I finally understand the game. John stared intently at the knight.
Suddenly, the composure of the knight’s expression faded, his face looked sunken, his eyes seemed exhausted. “I have nothing in my saddle chests. Nothing I could offer without shame.”
“Now, now.” A thin smile played around the outlaw chief’s mouth. “Sir, don’t be modest.”
“I have no more than one silver mark.”
“You don’t say?” Robin shook his head slightly, his tongue clicking regretfully.
“By God, this is the truth,” the knight replied with indignation. “Thirteen shillings. Barely more than half a pound, that’s all.”
The gray eyes turned to ice. “Good. I will believe you. But too often, the trust of the Saxons has been shamelessly exploited by you Normans. Therefore, sir, forgive the scrutiny. If there is only that much silver in these boxes, I ask nothing of you. But if there is a penny more, I will take it all. Horse, armor, boots, everything you own.”
Robin snapped his fingers at John. “The gentleman’s luggage!”
Neither Robin nor the three other outlaws moved. Richard at the Lea sat stiff and composed. Next to him, Marian had put her head on her arm; she was tired and seemed to be unaware of the tension.
The giant spread the knight’s coat on the floor of the stable. His fingers ran over the finely crafted chests. The dark wood was sanded and polished, and a coat of arms decorated the sides. John pulled the pin from the first lock and lifted the lid. The chest was empty. He opened the second one and reached in. He held up a silver coin between thumb and forefinger. “This would be a lot for me. For a knight, it is not much.” He threw the coin back into the chest again and grinned. “Fine, then. The man is honest.”
Robin laughed. He called out for Paul Storyteller and had him fill his goblet to the brim. “Sir!” Robin got up from his seat. “I am a man of my word. I’ll take your thanks in payment.”
Together with their guest, the outlaws drained their goblets down to the last drop. Richard at the Lea drank and agreed to a refill, but he still did not respond to his hosts’ exuberant cheerfulness. With every sip, his mood became darker.
“Stop!” Robin Hood slammed the cup hard onto the tabletop. The others fell silent.
“Sir Richard . . . though it may not seem fitting for a freeman to ask: What kind of knight are you? Your chests are empty. Your clothes are worn out. And you barely touched the food.” A quick glance fell on old Storyteller. “And my cooks really outdid themselves today.”
Paul sighed and hobbled quickly outside.
“Tell me—what’s the matter with you?” Robin asked.
The knight remained silent, staring into the goblet, and then furrowing his brows. “With the end of this day, all is lost. I see no way out.”
Despite the grief in his voice, he set forth his words carefully. Not quite three years before, his son Edward had killed a knight and a nobleman during the tournament in Ashby. “It was a fair fight. That was the unanimous verdict of the marshal and all the heralds. But scarcely had the tournament ended, when my neighbor, Sir Roger of Doncaster, brought an action against my son before the High Court.” The knight turned to Little John. “My castle, Fenwick, lies southeast of the River Went. Barely ten miles from where we met.”
“I did not know . . .”
“No, I do not regret being brought here. I never expected to spend my last evening in such decent company.”
“Go on,” Robin prompted him quietly. “Everything about Sir Roger is of interest to us. And especially to my friend Tom.” With the flat of his hand, Toad wiped his gray, shriveled scalp and stared straight ahead.
“The dead nobleman was a distant relative of Baron Roger. Yet it was not for the sake of justice that he brought his case. But out of greed and vindictiveness. The tragic accident served as his pretext. He had always envied me my land, the yield of my fields. At the same time, he dislikes me because I am steadfastly loyal to King Richard the Lionheart.”
He recounted bitterly how Sir Roger and, with him, many feudal lords from the counties of Nottingham, Derby, and York had sided with Prince John in recent years. “They support the plans of the cruel prince. During the absence of his brother, Prince John plans to seize power and throne of England, and anyone who offers him his shield has the ear of John’s hired judges. So it was with the trial of my son. Life imprisonment or payment of an outrageous sum, that was the verdict. What was else left for me to do as a father?” The knight’s shoulders sank. He had mortgaged the castle, goods, and everything he owned and paid off his son’s bounty.
“We agreed to pay off the debts together. My Edward immediately took the Crusader’s vow and followed our king to the Holy Land to try his luck. I stayed and worked hard.” But the harvest last summer had been so poor, and he had not wanted to burden his hardworking peasants with higher levies. “I was able to repay a large part of it. For the rest, I lack the means.”
That morning he had been in Pontefract, hoping to borrow the much-needed sum from a friend of his, a landowner. “Alas, in times of need, it is rare to find a friend. I had to leave with empty saddle chests. And the deadline is tomorrow at sunset. The bond expires.” He gently stroked the sleeping Marian’s hair. “My daughter is barely older than she is.” He straightened his back. “I will take my child and her mother to relatives and set out for Jerusalem across the sea myself. Perhaps if my son is still alive and we return with King Richard, I will be able to find hope again.”
John muttered into the silence: “By St. Dunstan, I didn’t know the Normans also stabbed each other in the back.”
Richard at the Lea raised his brows. “Politics and greed are treacherous sisters. No one is immune to their venom.”
“Well.” John scratched the scar in his beard. “Just wanted to say I’m sorry about all this.”
“Quiet, John!” Robin Hood admonished him. Thoughtfully, the outlaw rubbed his fingertips together. “I have some questions, sir. And on your honor, answer them openly and truthfully! Who has the bond?”
“The Abbot of St. Mary’s Abbey in York. A lackey of my neighbor, Sir Roger.”
“What is the balance of your debt to the abbey?”
“Four hundred pounds.”
Robin’s men were startled. Robin whistled through his teeth. “For such a sum, even a bishop would walk to church on foot.” He looked calmly from one to the other. “Tom? Pete? Gilbert? I won’t ask you, John. You got us into this mess. But you others? What do you think?”
Pete Smiling pursed his lips and nodded. Gilbert Whitehand agreed. Tom Toad agreed as well.
“Sir,” said Robin, “I am prepared to advance you the sum.”
Richard at the Lea closed his eyes. His chin trembled for a moment. Then, once again in control, he opened his eyes. “The offer alone touches me deeply and shows me your compassion. Thank you. However—”
“I stand by my word,” the outlaw chief interrupted him curtly. He winked at his friends and continued: “Sir, at least imagine it could be so. Play along. Don’t l
et the evening end in grief and tears.”
“Forgive me that my troubles have made me . . . All right, a make-believe. Very well, then: I am ready.”
Robin laughed. “If I lend you the four hundred pounds. What guarantor can you bring me? Who will repay if you cannot?”
Richard at the Lea answered with great earnestness. “By all the saints, I know of no one who would stand surety for me.”
“By the saints? Who have we here? St. Dunstan, St. Dubric, St. Winibald, St. Willick, St. John, St. Catherine . . .” Robin paused for breath. With both hands, he clutched at his red-blond hair. “And I am to trust all of them? Shall I run to all of them to get my beautiful gold back? No, you cannot expect that. Name a better guarantor!”
“Don’t torture me!” The knight knitted his brows. “I cannot offer any security. I swear this by the Virgin Mary. My fate is entirely in her gracious hands.”
Robin’s gray eyes lit up. “The pure Virgin. In all England, there is no better security in these times. A pledge by the Virgin Mary is enough for me. She has never let me down. Sir Richard! I shall advance the money for exactly one year. Tomorrow you can pluck your bond from the jaws of that pious leech in York.”
For the first time that night, the knight smiled. “If the circumstances were not as they are, and if you and your friends were guests at my table, then, believe me, I would reward you for this entertaining game. But now I am tired and ask for a place to sleep. A hard day awaits me tomorrow.”
“Patience. Since it is my game, we will play it to the end according to my rules.” Robin turned to the others. “I will give the gold. And what about you? What do you give?”
“The way he looks,” John blurted out, “he needs a new robe. To make him look like a knight again.”
“All right, little man. Although I’ll have to have a word with you later.” The leader pointed to Tom Toad. “Now, you?”
“He needs a stallion and a good saddle. He should use his own beast for a packhorse.”
Whitehand was willing to give away the best boots in the garment chest. Pete Smiling added gold spurs.
“And a squire?” Robin smiled. “A knight without a squire is no knight. Therefore, sir, I lend you not only four hundred pounds, but also my smallest lieutenant. You already know him. Our Little John. He will accompany you to York as your squire.”
“Good idea,” the giant growled when he saw the smirking faces of his companions. “Nothing will happen to him, then.”
“Thank you.” Richard at the Lea propped up his forehead with his hand. “A beautiful dream. But now, let me rest!”
Robin led the guest to an adjoining hut. “Sleep, sir—but do not dream, sir. Otherwise, reality may fade.”
When he returned, John left the stables with Marian. He carried the sleeping girl in his arms, her head leaning on his shoulder.
“Hey, you runt!” Robin called. “I have some advice for you.”
“Keep your voice down, or you’ll wake her up.”
Robin came close to the giant. “Next time,” he whispered, punching his fist against the broad chest, “next time take a closer look before choosing your victim! Understand? Otherwise, this is going to be too expensive for us.”
It took a moment, then John smiled. “Fine, then.”
The fog rose slowly. It still shrouded the raven nests in the treetops. They croaked down to those below: The day! Day! The day!
Robin Hood only woke his lieutenants. He gave out orders in a low voice. “And no dallying, John. Hurry!” Everyone knew what they had to do.
Loaded with robe, boots, and spurs, Whitehand entered the knight’s hut.
“Don’t let him out until I call,” Robin had instructed him.
In the clothing cave, Little John had to take off his brown-and-black clothes. Accompanied by the rumbling laughter of Pete Smiling, he tried to squeeze his huge legs into light blue, finely knitted stockings. They had already burst at the knee. Also, none of the embroidered velvet robes could be laced closed over his chest. “Stop laughing, or I’ll shut your mouth,” he scolded and threw the expensive pieces back into the trunk. “Damn it! I am not a doll.”
“Orders are orders.” Smiling bared his teeth. He handed John a livid green, yellow-striped travel cloak with an oversize hood. “Then put your own stockings and tunic back on! This fine piece here will at least reach over your bottom, and this tent is just right for your fat little head.
No, he could not take his staff with him. He had to strap on a sword and tuck a long-handled hammer next to it. Smiling was finally satisfied. “What a squire,” he mocked. “Stand in a field, and no bird would dare eat even one grain!”
“I’ll knock your teeth out . . .” Anger and laughter struggled for control of his face. John drew his sword. He was much too slow for Smiling. Pete had already drawn his own weapon, and he let the blade bob up and down in front of the giant’s chest. “Wouldn’t it be a pity to spoil his beautiful coat?” His blood-red scar twitched, then he bared his teeth again. “Forward, Squire John! Your lord knight calls for you.”
“All right. Just wanted to see if this pointy thing wouldn’t get stuck in its scabbard.” Growling, John put the weapon back.
Three horses waited outside the stable—including a strong brown one for John. The guest’s skinny nag carried the empty chests. Both lids were open. Robin had chosen the white stallion himself, had saddled and bridled him. “Where is Tom?” he whispered. Toad was to go down to the camp, get the gold from the treasury, and immediately bring it up. Why was it taking so long? “That toad-head. He better not spoil our fun!”
His impatience was contagious. Pete and John paced back and forth in front of the knight’s hut. As soon as the conversation broke off inside, the giant blocked the exit with his sheer size. “Not yet, Gilbert. Keep him talking.”
The fog had lifted—a clear sky. The croaking ravens circled around the bare treetops, dropped into their nests, and rose again.
At last, Tom Toad approached with heavy strides. No sooner did he spot the giant in his new disguise than he stumbled. Only with great difficulty did he manage to keep his balance. He put down his leather bag, laughing and gasping: “If my Beth sees you like this, I think—”
“You’re having a go at me as well now?” John snorted. “One more word, and I’ll cut off your braid!”
“Hush!” Robin whispered. He sounded the hunting horn. Before the long-drawn-out alarm signal had faded away, the few men who had stayed overnight at the base stormed out of their quarters, half-dressed but each one holding his weapon in his hand. “Line up!” Their leader gestured for them to form a semicircle.
All but Marian obeyed, even the two cooks. The girl ran to John and tugged violently at the hem of the bright green travel cloak with the yellow stripes. Questioningly, almost anxiously, she looked up at him.
“Everything is all right, little one,” he rumbled. “It’s only a game.” Marian cowered on the ground near him and never let him out of her sight.
Robin put both hands on his hips. “Sir Richard at the Lea! The Brotherhood of Freemen wishes to bid you farewell.”
Whitehand was the first to leave the hut. He threw the weathered coat and the discarded, tattered clothes onto the packhorse and quickly joined the others.
The knight stepped outside. He cut a dignified, tall figure, the ermine collar of the scarlet overgarment draped softly over his shoulders. The breastplate shimmered softly. His pale, tired face appeared even more angular. He looked calmly at Robin Hood. “I thank you and your friends. You have given me a rich gift with this robe. Though this outward splendor is not . . .”
“I beg you, sir, be silent,” Robin curtly interrupted. “Grief paralyzes the mind.”
The knight raised his brows.
Robin laughed. “We are partners because you have given me the best surety. Now it is up to you to fulfill the contract. And for that, you need to show the strength and determination of a bold man. Whining and complaining only sours the t
ransaction.”
Richard at the Lea tensed his back in indignation. Only now did he notice the horses and the giant, all ready to leave. His gaze stopped on the open empty saddle chests. “You dare to reprimand me? Well then, I forgive you, considering the hospitality I have enjoyed. Thank you for your generous gifts! They help, yet they do not save me. Therefore, on my honor, I ask you to stop playing this game with my misery!”
Robin replied calmly: “Thank the Blessed Virgin! The sudden anger in your eyes, sir, convinces me. Yes, you will pay me back my gold in time.” He waved at Toad and Whitehand. “Count it! And do it loud and clear.”
Tom lifted one bar of gold after the other out of the leather sack, placed it in Gilbert’s white hand, who placed the shiny pieces in the saddle chests, the first bar in one, the second in the other, and so on to distribute the weight evenly. None of the freemen dared to grumble. Robin Hood’s orders had to be followed, and they always had a purpose. Their heads moved back and forth in the same rhythm. In silence, the men escorted their beautiful gold on its short journey to the chests.
At the sight of the first bar, Richard at the Lea had groaned loudly, and since then, he kept stroking his beard.
Gilbert locked the two chests. “Fourteen there, and fourteen here. Together that amounts to exactly four hundred pounds.”
Robin stepped before the knight and crossed his arms. “Well, what do you say?”
“I’ve never met a man like you before.” The knight’s lips trembled. “You barely know who I am, and you entrust me with this fortune?”
“I have known you since yesterday, sir. And that is long enough. Besides, I have the surety of the pure Virgin. And furthermore . . .” Robin smiled crookedly. “Me and my men, we are hunters. We can track any game, no matter where it hides.”
“You know where to find me. By our gracious Virgin, do not worry! Now that I have my reputation, my castle, and my goods, I will repay you in full over the year.”
The knight held out his hand to the leader of the freemen. “Take my thanks. That’s all I can give you now! Overnight my fate has miraculously turned for the better. I firmly believe that England’s fate will also turn to the best with the return of our king. If you or any of your men ever need my help or my intercession, I swear on my honor I will receive you and defend you.”
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