Knight of Sherwood

by N B Dixon

  There was a slightly malicious smile on his face. He certainly believed Marian would fail. Robin, too, wanted to get this charade over with, but he did not entirely like the look in Marian’s eyes. She seemed perfectly at ease.

  Edward hurried to set up a target, while Jane handed Marian her own short bow and quiver.

  “Hit the target three times and you may join us,” Robin said, while inwardly praying she missed every time.

  Marian’s first arrow struck dead centre.

  Edward moved the target back twenty paces. Marian shot again, and again, hit the centre.

  Robin could not deny her skill. Whoever had taught her had known their craft, but could Marian shoot to kill? Unbidden, Robin remembered the dead sentry the night he had escaped from Nottingham Castle.

  Edward moved the target back a further twenty paces. Marian calmly nocked a third arrow and loosed. It buried itself in the heart of the target. Marian returned the bow to Jane with a dazzling smile for Will. Will looked as astonished as Robin felt. Reluctant applause broke out.

  “That was fine shooting, My Lady,” Lewis said.

  Marian’s smile widened. “I think that settles it. I am as much an outlaw as any of you, and I have as much right to fight for my freedom. I want to see John destroyed every bit as badly as you do.”

  No one could think of a thing to say. Even Will was speechless.

  Robin knew Marian had won the right to join them, but she had never been in a real battle. She stood out from those around her. However, he could think of no immediate argument. Simply forbidding her would have no effect.

  Marian turned to Ursula, ignoring the rest of them.

  “Take one of the horses the soldiers left behind and ride to the abbey. You will be safe there.”

  Ursula shook her head. “My Lady—”

  “It’s not you they’re after.”

  “But what of you?”

  “I’m one of Robin’s band,” Marian said sweetly. “I’m sure he will protect me.”

  Robin held up a hand. “You go too fast, Lady Marian. I haven’t agreed to join any fight, and my ‘band’ will abide by my decision.”

  Marian was unfazed. “You’re right. After all, maybe you could not bring yourself to kill Gisborne. Perhaps I should go with these men if they’ll have me.” She smiled at Lewis, Henry and Roland in turn, who were all looking utterly baffled.

  The atmosphere had grown charged. Marian had issued Robin a direct challenge, and he would not allow it to slide.

  “And why would I not want to kill Gisborne? That man has been long overdue a taste of my blade.”

  “Because he’s your brother.”

  The silence that followed those four simple words was deafening. Robin felt as though he had been punched in the stomach and could not get enough air into his lungs. He was certain he had misheard.

  “Don’t talk daft, woman,” Will snapped with a quick glance at Robin.

  “Ursula overheard Gisborne and his sister discussing it. Tell me, why would he say such a thing if it were not true?” She looked at Robin. “He hates you. It’s hardly something he would make up. The question is, can you murder your own flesh and blood?”

  A denial rose to the tip of Robin’s tongue, but it lodged in his throat. His father and Gisborne’s mother had been lovers. Robin, himself, had caught them together when he was twelve years old. It had never occurred to him that Sir Benedict Gisborne might not have been Guy’s father. Was it possible?

  He cast a brief, sideways glance at Will, who had also been there that day. He looked appalled.

  “Blimey,” he breathed. “That’s why he was so obsessed with getting his hands on the Locksley estate. That’s why he murdered Lord Locksley.”

  Robin felt as if he could vomit. Guy was older than him by a couple of months. That meant his father had been with Lady Gisborne even while he was married. His mistress and his wife had been pregnant at the same time. If Lord Locksley had married Lady Gisborne when he’d had the chance and acknowledged Guy as his son, Guy would have inherited everything. Had Sir Benedict known the truth?

  The idea made Robin’s flesh crawl. His whole world had been turned upside down, every last certainty he’d had, stripped away.

  Roland glared at Robin. “So you are the sheriff’s half-brother? I have no truck with anyone related to a Gisborne.”

  “You speak unjustly, My Lord,” Tuck said quietly. “Robin is not answerable for either the sins of his father or his brother.”

  “This changes nothing,” Henry said impatiently. “Relation or not, Guy of Gisborne is a cruel, scheming bastard, hand in glove with the traitor, Prince John. He must be put down like the rabid dog he is. If you do not have the stomach for it, Locksley, then leave it to someone who does.”

  Robin rounded on him. “Are you calling me a coward? I never said I would not kill Gisborne.”

  “Then you will join us? You will fight for King Richard and see John and his lackeys destroyed? The future of England is at stake. You surely cannot want Prince John to seize the throne?”

  Robin studied each of his band in turn. None of them spoke. He knew then they would not fight without him. Love swelled in his heart for all of them, and guilt. These people had every right to want vengeance—for Locksley, for all they had suffered. They had more right than any of the lords gathered there.

  He turned instinctively to Will. “What do you think?”

  “Richard is still the king when all’s said and done. I know you don’t like him, Robin, but if it’s between him and the prince, I’d choose Richard. Besides, I’d have thought you’d jump at the chance to see Gisborne in the ground, blood or not.”

  Robin got to his feet.

  “Where are you going?” Lewis said.

  Robin turned to him. “You, Henry and Roland are welcome to stay the night. I will give you my answer in the morning.”

  The sounds of the camp receded as Robin walked further into the trees. Overhead, an owl hooted; a rabbit darted for cover at his approach.

  His mind was still reeling from Marian’s revelation. Guy of Gisborne was his brother. He’d murdered their father. Had he known who Lord Locksley was when he killed him? Was Will right, and it had been merely the first step in Guy’s plan to gain power?

  An even worse thought struck him. Was Katrina his sister? Had Sir Benedict fathered neither of them? Had Lady Gisborne passed them off as his to cover up her adultery?

  Katrina had once been intended for his bride. Did that mean they were not related? Or did it mean Sir Benedict hadn’t known? How could his father have allowed the match to go ahead?

  “I was worried about you,” said a soft, feminine voice behind him.

  Robin whirled around, his hand automatically going to the dagger in his belt, before he recognised Marian. She was leaning against a tree, watching him. Robin was chagrined that he had not heard her follow him.

  “I’m sorry I announced that Guy of Gisborne was your brother in front of everybody. I was upset.”

  Robin said nothing.

  “You must know you have no choice but to join the fight against John. Guy will be after your blood once he knows you are alive.”

  “What do you want, Marian? Whatever it is, what makes you think I can provide it?”

  All concern and sympathy fled her face. An angry flush stained her cheeks. “I believed you cared for me, fool that I was. It seems that night in the abbey meant nothing to you at all. I don’t intend John to win. If he does, my life will not be my own. I would rather lose it on the battlefield fighting for Richard than have John take it from me.” She walked away without giving him the chance to reply.

  ***

  Everyone had settled in for the night when Robin returned to camp. It was Much’s turn on watch. Knowing he would not sleep, Robin joined him.

  “Have you decided?”

  “John and Gisborne cannot be allowed to get away with this.”

  Much’s shoulders relaxed. “You know we’ll all follo
w you. It’s not for Richard we fight.”

  “I know.”

  “I thought you would forbid me to go, that you’d say I’d only slow you down.”

  “You have as much right to fight as any of us. I won’t stop you. I thought you would make Lara stay.”

  Much laughed. “She wouldn’t listen.” Then his face grew serious. “Like you, I think she has the right to fight. She has suffered as much as any of us. You know Edward will try and kill Gisborne if he can. He’s wanted to do it since Locksley fell.”

  Robin heaved a sigh. Edward was a good fighter—incredible for his age—but he was impulsive and tended to be governed by his heart rather than his head. Robin feared his recklessness would get him killed; however, trying to make him stay back was as useless as trying to make Marian stay. It seemed both were equally determined to throw their lives away.

  Robin left Much and sought his bed. He found everyone asleep but Will. Robin wasn’t in the least surprised.

  “Can you do it?” Will said.

  “Do what?”

  “Can you kill Gisborne?”

  Robin looked around at his friends’ sleeping faces. “Gisborne murdered my father and destroyed the lives of every person here.”

  Will said nothing. It was answer enough.

  ***

  The cart driver knelt trembling at Guy’s feet.

  “Say that again,” Guy commanded.

  “Robin Hood, My Lord. He is alive.”

  “No!” Prince John’s shriek echoed around the hall. He turned on Guy. “You swore to me the man was dead.”

  “So he is, Sire. I saw the body myself.” Even as the words left Guy’s mouth, a tiny seed of doubt wormed its way into his mind. He looked down at the cringing wretch at his feet.

  “Tell me again what happened.”

  “We were set upon, My Lord. Outlaws. It was Robin Hood, I swear it. He and his men killed all the soldiers and released the prisoners.”

  “Why did you survive?”

  “He…he let me go.”

  That sounded like the sort of thing Locksley would do. Still, Guy was unwilling to accept the truth. Over and over, he kept seeing Robin in his coffin, still and lifeless. If he lived, how had they pulled the wool over his eyes?

  “You told me he was dead, Gisborne,” Prince John hissed.

  “There are many men in Sherwood, Sire. It is easy enough to wear a hood and dress in green. The outlaws may have united under a new leader—Locksley’s deputy, Scathelock, perhaps.”

  “Or perhaps you are lying in an attempt to save your neck. Do you realise what this means if Locksley is alive? If he freed those prisoners, he will know the king has returned. He will also travel to meet him as quickly as possible, and inform him of our rebellion.”

  A trickle of cold sweat ran down Guy’s spine, but he forced himself to keep his voice calm. “All is not lost, Sire. Even if the element of surprise is denied us, we are a strong force. We will be able to topple the king, I am certain.”

  “For your sake, Gisborne, you had better be right.” Prince John jabbed a finger at the kneeling man.

  “Take him away and cut out his tongue.” The man burst into terrified sobs as two soldiers appeared from the shadows and dragged him out of the hall.

  “Any man or woman who mentions the name of Robin Hood in my hearing will suffer the same fate,” Prince John snarled.

  Guy retreated to the privacy of his solar. There, he seized a bottle of wine that stood on the table and hurled it at the wall. It shattered, red liquid dripping like blood down the stones.

  Rage boiled inside him. Hard as he tried to dismiss it, the thought that Locksley might still be alive haunted him. That three months had gone by with neither hide nor hair of him was probably due to the fact that he would have needed time to heal. The crossbow wound had been genuine enough.

  It seemed if he wanted something done, he would have to do it himself. Guy no longer cared particularly who won. He was under no illusions as to what Prince John would do to him once the rebellion was over. His position as sheriff was forfeit; likely his lands as well. John might even have him executed, and if Richard won, he would meet the same fate. Well, if he had to die, he would take Locksley to hell with him.

  Chapter 25

  They rode for several hours at a steady canter. Though the air still had a decided chill about it, signs of spring were everywhere. Daffodils spotted the landscape in vivid splashes of colour. The birds were in full song, and the trees were already beginning to be covered in blossom. A bumblebee buzzed drunkenly across Robin’s path before alighting on a branch.

  Will rode at Robin’s side, at ease in the saddle. Robin’s backside was reminding him how long it had been since he’d ridden any great distance on horseback.

  “This brings back memories, doesn’t it?” Will said. “Remember how we’d travel for days under a hot desert sun.”

  “Vividly,” Robin said with feeling. He could remember how it felt to have his clothes plastered to his body by sweat, the constant headache from the ferocious glare of the sun, while his throat felt as though he’d swallowed sand. He remembered swatting at the flies that continually settled on his skin, tipping up his water bottle in hopes of getting one more drop. “This is a good deal more pleasant.”

  “The king never seemed to mind it,” Will remarked.

  True enough. All he saw was his next goal. Every city that fell was one step closer to Jerusalem.

  “He won’t let his brother take his throne.”

  “I wonder if Prince John knows of his prisoners’ escape,” Will mused.

  “The prince is no fool. He will know by now, and he’ll surmise that we are on our way to meet with the king. Richard would do well not to underestimate him. There are some nobles who believe John has more right to rule than his absent brother. At the very least, there will be a calling for Richard to acknowledge John as his heir.”

  Roland, who was riding nearest to them, shot Robin a hostile look. Roland had been cool towards him ever since Marian’s revelation that Robin and Guy were related. “If you feel that way, Locksley, why are you here?”

  “I never said I agreed with John. I regard Richard as the lesser of two evils.”

  “Just so long as you remember which side you’re on.”

  “That’s enough, Roland,” Lewis called. “We are all in this together. We’ll see Prince John put in his place or die trying.”

  Robin remembered King Richard making a similar speech as the army encamped outside the walls of Acre.

  ‘This city is one of the keys to Jerusalem. It has never fallen before, but we shall be the first. We will take this city, or die trying.’

  And so they had. Acre had been destroyed, its walls reduced to rubble, the women and children cut down as they fled.

  That day had changed Robin’s life in so many ways. For several nights afterwards, he had been haunted by nightmares. But out of the horror and the carnage, had come one glimmer of light. He glanced over at Will again. If only he’d had the wit to see then what he was losing. Things would have been different.

  “You’ve got that face on again,” Will said.

  “What face is that?”

  “The one you always got when the king suggested something you didn’t like.”

  Robin grinned. “Don’t worry, I have no desire to experience another flogging.”

  “Reckon he’ll be pleased to see you?” Will’s eyes danced with mischief.

  “I doubt it, but he needs all the help he can get.”

  “And Gisborne?” Will lowered his voice.

  “Gisborne will want to kill me personally. Only one of us shall walk away from this battle alive.”

  It was late afternoon before Lewis finally called a halt. Everyone dismounted and began tending to their horses. Robin split an apple with his, while Jane laid out a meal of bread, cheese and ale. Lewis and Henry began a lively debate about whether or not they should spend the night at an inn, or seek hospitality from one
of the manor lords in the area.

  Law dictated that a knight should always offer hospitality to any fellow knights who asked for it. But there was no way of knowing who was on Prince John’s side and who was for King Richard. On balance, stopping at an inn seemed safer.

  When they set off again, it was Tuck riding beside Robin. Now and then, he fingered the rosary at his belt. His face wore an abstracted expression.

  “If you want to turn back, Tuck, no one will think the worse of you for it.”

  Tuck looked over at him. “I am as committed to this fight as you are. That doesn’t mean I have to like it.”

  “How did you become so proficient with weapons?”

  “I trained for a time with the Templars. I left before taking my final vows. I sensed my calling was elsewhere.”

  Robin could not hide his surprise. “They let you go?”

  The Templars were fanatics, warrior monks who answered to none except God and the pope. They had fought for King Richard in the Holy Land, and put entire towns to the sword. They showed no mercy.

  Tuck smiled. “Luckily for me, they agreed I was not suitable. I returned to England and was granted the position at Locksley. As I understand it, the Templars sustained heavy losses in the Holy Land.”

  “No worse than the rest of us,” Robin said coolly.

  Tuck nodded. “I swore to myself I would never shed human blood.”

  “So what changed?”

  “Every life you take is a taint on your soul, but sometimes a man must ask himself if it would be a bigger taint to do nothing and let evil thrive. I have asked God for guidance, and no other answer has come to me. There are some men in the world who only understand violence. I believe John is such a man. Diplomacy will not stop him.”

  “Why did you never fight when the soldiers came to Locksley? You could have saved the villagers.”

  “Could I? I was one man. Getting myself killed would not help anyone. I chose to ally myself with the man I believed could help the people.”

  Robin was silent for a minute or two. Finally he said, “All I wanted was to make a difference. A system where the circumstances of your birth determine whether you are oppressor or oppressed is wrong. I suppose that’s why I’m here. Prince John embodies everything I despise about this country.”