“He doesn’t have that many stories about Gisburne,” John said. “Besides,
he eats almost as much as Tuck!”
“Well, he-he’d hunt deer too, wouldn’t he?” Much persisted.
“Why do you want ’im around anyway?” Will asked. “’Aven’t we got enough
knights to deal with?”
“There’s only Gisburne, really.”
“Exactly!”
“Look, Much," Tuck said. "Gisburne will probably toss him out on his ear as soon as he
sees him. When he does, Sir George can come and stay with us again.” Tuck winked at Will and John.
Much turned to his leader, eyes shining brightly. “Really, Robin?”
“Oh...uh...Sir George! There you are.” The knight had just entered the camp
with Nasir, who had been speaking to their guest in Arabic.
“Sayyid al-sayf, abd Allah,”* Sir George said.
The Saracen smiled and bowed, then took his turn to go on watch.
“You speak his language?” Robin asked in surprise.
“Oh, only a little. We had the most interesting conversation, though. Your
Nasir is a most remarkable man.”
“We think so,” John stated.
“You’re lucky to have him.” Sir George clapped the taller man on the shoulder then
crossed the camp to his horse.
Robin followed and reached the knight as he was untying the reins from a branch. “You’re leaving?”
“I think it’s time.”
“I hope you find what you’re looking for.”
“Thank you. I hope so too.” Sir George pulled the reins free and stood for a
moment, not sure what his next step should be.
“We’ll escort you to the road,” Robin suggested. His friends all rose
quickly, except for Will, who needed a little more encouragement. However,
once he had rubbed his sore shin, he was following the small party to the
road.
“I’ll miss you,” Much admitted to Sir George, gazing down at the ground
shyly as they walked.
“Oh, you’ll forget me soon enough. I have a feeling that you and your
friends will be receiving a good many guests after I’ve gone.”
“You could be right, my lord,” Tuck said, pausing for an instant. “I think
Nasir might have just spotted some.”
The Saracen’s signal could be heard in the faint threads of a bird call. The outlaws immediately broke
into a run, and Sir George found it difficult to catch up with his hosts. When he finally managed to
reach them, Nasir had joined the other outlaws. Without a word, the Saracen pointed to a cart that rumbled slowly towards them.
“It ain’t much,” Will stated.
“They must be from one of the villages,” John said. “We can’t steal from
them, Naz.”
Nasir smiled and cocked an eyebrow. “You have not seen what is in the cart.”
Will and John stared at Nasir, exchanged puzzled glances, then tore on to the road.
“Is it gold, Nasir?" Much asked in excitement. "Jewels?”
Nasir shook his head.
“Well, what is it, then?” Tuck demanded. They had reached the cart and were
surprised to find Will and John talking to Matthew of Wickham and one of his
friends. Both outlaws spun around eagerly as the rest of them gathered
around the cart.
“Look what Matthew’s brought us!” Scarlet cried.
Nasir grinned and looked directly at Sir George. “Your squire.”
* * * *
“It’s Gisburne!”
“Is he dead?”
“No, we’re not that lucky.”
“What happened?”
“Where did you find him, Matthew?”
Sir George released his horse’s bridle and peeked inside the cart. Sure
enough, Guy of Gisburne was sprawled across the bottom. The hair and
features were unmistakable.
“We were gathering wood,” Matthew explained.
“He came out of the clearing,” Matthew’s friend piped up. “We thought he’d
kill us for sure.”
“But then he just fell,” Matthew continued. “You should see the lump on his
head! He must have been bleeding too because he was holding this.” The boy
passed a handkerchief to Robin. It had once been a pristine white, but now
it was marred by spots of dried blood and smudges of dirt.
“So you two lifted him into the cart?” Robin said.
“Us and Peter.”
“Peter?”
“He went to look for Sir Guy’s horse.”
Robin almost winced. If that horse was found in Wickham without a rider...
“I told him to bring it here,” Matthew said, as if he could read the
outlaw’s thoughts.
Robin smiled and tried not to look too relieved. However, he still wasn’t entirely satisfied.
“You should have left him there. If he had woken up before you reached
us...”
“But he didn’t!”
“But if he had – " Will said. “Well, you should ’ave told us first,
that’s all.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Yeah, I know you are.” Will patted Matthew on the back and the boy grinned.
“Are you going to tie him up, Uncle Will?”
Scarlet opened his mouth.
“No,” Robin answered firmly. “They’re going to take Gisburne back to the
camp, and you two boys are going to make yourself scarce. I’ll see if I can
find your friend.”
“All right, Robin.”
“Yeah, that’s fine with me.” Will was studying the knight in the same
way a wolf might size up a lamb. As if on cue, the knight groaned and tried
to move his head.
“On the other hand, I think Will could use the exercise.”
“Ah, Robin!”
“He can ride my horse,” Sir George offered. “It looks like I’ll be staying
here a bit longer.”
Scarlet scowled and took the reins from the knight. Meanwhile, John and Tuck each grabbed an arm and
pulled Gisburne into a sitting position. John was about to lift his enemy across his shoulders when
he realized that Tuck was laughing.
“What is it?”
“Lancelot in the cart!”
“What?” John’s head spun around again when Robin and Sir George started to
laugh as well.
“It’s a story, John,” Robin explained. “Guinevere is captured and Lancelot
must ride in a cart to find her.”
“You see, he meets a dwarf who will only tell him where Guinevere is if
he’ll ride in the cart,” Tuck added.
“But he doesn’t want to do this because he’ll look shameful,” Sir
George said. “It’s only his love for Guinevere that gives him the courage to ride
in the cart.”
John glanced back at Gisburne and shook his head. “Poor bugger. He didn’t ride in that cart to find Guinevere.”
“Didn’t he?” Robin held up the handkerchief and smiled.
He had been aware of the voices for some time, but the constant drumming in
his skull seemed to prevent him from opening his eyes. When he finally
managed to complete this difficult task, he could only see a large blurry
shape. He blinked a few times and tried to focus again. Suddenly, the shape
had sharp edges and, apparently, a face.
Gisburne sat up, then clutched his head as the drumbeats were replaced by
the blows of a hammer against an anvil. He felt a hand close in on his
shoulder and gazed slowly into dark eyes again.
“Sir George?”
“It’s good to see you again, Guy.”
“What happened?”
“I was hoping you’d know that. It would seem that my old squire has had
quite an adventure,” the other knight commented.
Gisburne stared at him for a moment before remembering. “Damn him,” he growled. Sir George
raised an eyebrow. “I was trying to track down a vagabond when...Sir George he has – !”
“What, my dear boy? What’s the matter?”
Gisburne had just realized where he was, the sight of more than one familiar face jolting his senses. That
wolfshead was grinning at him.
“Good morning, Guy. Did you sleep well?”
Gisburne, one hand still pressed firmly against his head, rose unsteadily. Sir George stood also, grasping
Gisburne’s arm.
“It’s all right, Guy, we’re with friends.”
Gisburne’s head snapped around, and Sir George’s hand released the other knight’s arm.
“So it is true,” Gisburne hissed. “You are mad.”
There was a flash of fury behind Sir George’s eyes. “What did you say?”
“These men are dangerous outlaws.”
“They have treated me kindly.”
“They’re my enemies.”
“Then why haven’t they killed you?”
“Perhaps they think they can use me to bargain with the Sheriff, or they’d
prefer to humiliate me first.”
“You don’t need us for that, Gisburne!” John cried with a laugh.
Gisburne glared at him but said nothing.
Sir George rested a hand on his arm again. “Have you forgotten the virtues already? What of
pité, largesse, franchise and courtoisie?” **
“What of honour? You once told me that was the most important virtue of
all.”
“Ah...yes...well...”
“You hypocrite,” Gisburne spat. Then he fell back a step as Sir George
dealt him a stinging blow.
“Oh, oh,” Tuck said.
Robin leapt to his feet even before he heard the slither of steel. He stepped between
the knights as the swords left their scabbards.
“Stand aside,” Sir George ordered.
“You don’t want to do this.”
“Don’t pretend to know what either of us is thinking,” Gisburne snapped.
Robin ignored him. He knew there was no point in trying to appeal to his
enemy. He turned his attention back to Sir George again. “He was your squire. You don’t want to fight him.”
“He should have thought of that before he spoke,” Sir George replied.
“Gisburne’s words were cruel but hasty. He spoke in anger.”
“He usually does.”
“At least I don’t prattle on endlessly,” Gisburne retorted.
“Don’t you?” John teased.
This time, Gisburne didn’t even spare John a glance.
“He was hurt,” Robin said. “He thought you had turned against him.”
“That’s ridiculous!” both knights cried.
“Of course I didn’t turn against him!”
“Hurt, indeed,” Gisburne grumbled.
Sir George stepped around Robin, and Gisburne waited for another blow. Sir George placed his sword back in
its scabbard. “Did you really believe I had turned against you, Guy? How could you think such a thing?”
Gisburne looked at the outlaws, then Sir George, and rubbed his cheek thoughtfully.
“Why, you stupid headstrong fool!” Sir George cried.
Gisburne tried to step back, but it was too late. Sir George threw his arms around him.
Gisburne cringed and blushed, looking distinctly uncomfortable. The outlaws made no effort to
conceal their mirth.
“Ah, I think I’m going to cry,” John said, pretending to wipe tears from
his eyes. Tuck and Much laughed, and Gisburne finally managed to free himself
from Sir George’s grasp.
“Gisburne, don’t you have something to say?” Robin asked, watching the
knight as he tried to regain his composure.
Gisburne glared at him as if the outlaw was demanding an apology.
“Isn’t there something you need to tell Sir George?” Robin persisted,
raising the handkerchief he had found.
Gisburne’s eyes widened and he instinctively touched the back of his head. “Enide came to see me in Nottingham.”
“What? But...that’s impossible!” Sir George protested.
“Who’s Enide?” Robin said.
“My granddaughter...Guy, are you sure?” Sir George asked. Gisburne rolled his eyes. “But the
last time you saw her she was just – ”
“I know!”
“Well, where is she now?”
Gisburne looked away for a moment, finding it impossible to meet the other knight’s eyes. “She was kidnapped.”
“Kidnapped!” Sir George shouted. “Kidnapped?” He grabbed Gisburne by his
tunic. “How could you let this happen?”
Gisburne pushed the other man away. “Let?” he barked. “If that stupid girl had stayed at the castle instead of
following me to the alehouse – ”
“My granddaughter was in an alehouse!” Sir George roared.
“I told her to go back to the castle!”
“After you plied her with several cups of ale, no doubt!”
“She followed me to the alehouse! I didn’t want her there!”
“Then what were you doing in an alehouse in the first place?”
“I was trying to arrest the vagabond!”
“What vagabond?”
“The vagabond who kidnapped Enide!” Gisburne screamed, kicking a tree in
fury. Then, after growling a few curses, he began to hobble away.
“Where are you going, Gisburne?” Robin demanded. The knight stopped and
turned around.
“Bind me or kill me,” Gisburne rasped. “There’s no other way to make me
stay.”
“What about your story?” Robin asked.
“What story?” Will walked into the camp, leading two horses. “Where’s ’e
going?”
“He says he’s going to leave unless we bind him or kill him,” Much explained.
“Oh, ’e did, did ’e?” Will started to head towards Gisburne, but John and
Nasir pulled him back.
“You followed them to Sherwood, didn’t you?” Robin said. Gisburne didn’t
answer. “You caught up with them, but he knocked you out. Enide must have
tried to stop the bleeding with her handkerchief before the vagabond dragged
her off again.”
“How do you know that?” Much said, who looked almost as surprised as
Gisburne.
“’Is ’ead and that ’andkerchief," Will answered.
Sir George glanced from Will to Robin to Gisburne. “Is this true? Guy?”
Gisburne sighed. “What does it matter? There’s nothing we can do about it now.”
“There’s nothing we can do about it!” Sir George exclaimed. “What do you
mean there’s nothing we can do about it?”
“We’ve been captured by wolfsheads. What are we supposed to do?”
“You know, he does have a point,” John said.
“You’re agreeing with Gisburne?” Will cried, almost spitting a mouthful of
bread into the fire. “No, that ain't right.”
“No, it isn’t right,” Tuck argued. “Gisburne has a duty to that girl. He
can’t just abandon her.”
“Duty?" John asked. "What do you mean, Tuck?”
“The handkerchief is a token. By giving it to him, she has bestowed her
favour.”
Gisburne snorted and shook his head. “This isn’t a tournament.”
“But you’re still her champion,” Sir George said sternly.
“Am I?”
“Yes, you are, Gisburne,” Robin answered, “so you’d better be on your way.”
“But – ”
“Now!” Sir George commanded.
Gisburne stared at Robin and Sir George as if they had both lost their senses. Both men seemed adamant.
Gisburne allowed Sir George to pull him to his horse. The outlaws watched in stunned silence
as the knights untied their horses.
“Robin, they’re walking out of the camp,” Will said through clenched
teeth.
“Yes, I know that, Will.”
“You’re letting Gisburne escape?”
“I think it’s best.”
“Best?” Will yelled. He scratched his head then laughed quietly, as if he
too was questioning his leader’s sanity or, perhaps, his own.
Robin sat down beside Will, who might have moved away if Robin hadn’t draped an arm around
his shoulders. “It will be easier to find the girl without them, Will.”
“You mean we’re looking for her too?” Will asked in surprise.
“Of course.”
“Why? What’s in it for us?”
Robin considered the question for a moment then smiled. “How about the look on Gisburne’s face
when we find Enide and the vagabond first?”
* Master of the sword, the servant of God.
** Pité means compassion, largesse is generosity, franchise is a free and
frank spirit and courtoisie represents courtliness, especially towards women.
