said.
Robard did not hear him, and appeared lost in thought.
“And Rob, please understand. We don’t take anythin’ from the poor folks of Sherwood. We’ve robbed those who might have food or crosslets to spare. We take from ’em only what we need to live. The rest goes to the poor families here in the forest. We’ve been at it a few months. What we’ve been givin’ the poor folk of the shire has made ’em love us. They even call us ‘the Merry Men.’ Isn’t that something?”
“What about my mother? Is she. .?”
“She’s fine, Master Hode,” Allan said. “You know how much the Sherwood people love her. I doubt we’d have kept things up as well as we have if not for her.”
Robard’s face showed a brief moment of relief, but the anger was back in a heartbeat. He turned on his heel and stalked to his horse, and from his look, I knew what he intended: to ride to Nottingham, find the Shire Reeve and kill him.
My own grief dissipated when I saw my friend’s sadness. I stepped in front of him to block his path. “Robard, wait,” I pleaded. “I know how you feel-”
“I’m certain you do, squire,” he interrupted. “Now get out of my way.”
Maryam came to stand beside him and put her hand on his arm. “Robard, you cannot act rashly-”
“If both of you don’t leave me be, I swear I will-” he said.
“What about your mother, Robard!” Maryam urged him. That did the trick. His wild eyes came into focus and he stared at her intensely as she reached up and cradled his face in both hands.
“What about my mother?” he asked quietly.
“She has lost a husband. For all she knows you are lost to her as well. You’ve been gone two years. She has grieved all this time with no son to lean on. She must be desperate and heartbroken. There will be time for vengeance later, Robard. But you must go to her.” Maryam’s voice was calm, and whatever sea of emotions he felt, she had managed to still them, at least for now.
“My mother,” he said. He pushed past me and mounted his horse and urged it to gallop. In a few strides he was invisible, enveloped in the fog. Only the noise of his hoofbeats remained.
“Robard, wait!” I shouted after him. But he was gone.
“Will,” I said quietly. He looked confused and sad. “We need to follow Robard. We’ll be lost in no time. Can you lead us?”
“Aye. We’ll keep after him right enough. Allan, you and the boys fetch our horses. Step quick now. If I know Master Hode, once he pays his respects to Mistress Hode, he’ll be a-ridin’ to Nottingham and havin’ it out with the Shire Reeve himself. Let’s go, lads, to your duties,” he commanded his men, and they leapt to their work.
Will prodded the poor man on the ground-he called him Cyrus-and he came to with a start, then drew back in fear at the sight of Little John towering over him. “Worry not, Cy, he’s a friend. ’Twas Master Hode we tried to rob, can you believe it?” Cyrus allowed as how he could not, and stood, trying to clear his head. Allan and the other man returned with their horses.
“We’ve given old Rob a good head start, but we’ll catch up to ’em soon enough,” Allan offered as we all mounted up and rode off with Will Scarlet in the lead. Chasing Robard all the way to his home.
19
Will and his men were better mounted, and we punished ourselves and our horses trying to keep up with them. But after midday we rode through a gate with a high wooden arch. On it hung a weather- beaten sign with carved letters reading HODE. Passing through it, we followed a long lane lined by very tall trees. Through the trees I saw more woods, but in the distance there were some gently rolling meadows and open fields. It was a beautiful place, and I realized why Robard had been so eager to return home.
We found Robard and his mother not far from their manor house, in a small fenced cemetery standing before a wooden cross. It must have been the family plot where his father was buried. Robard towered over his tiny mother, whose shoulders shook as she cried, and he tried gently to wipe away the river of tears coursing down her face. Our party dismounted in the yard and we all stood quietly, not wishing to disturb them.
Tuck watched the two of them standing by the wooden cross and I wondered if it brought back painful memories of the brothers he had buried not so long ago. Tuck folded his hands in prayer and made his quiet clicking sound before crossing himself. Will and his men, perhaps thinking Tuck was an actual priest from his dress and manor, followed suit.
While Robard tended to his mother, I took stock of the Hode estate. It had fallen on hard times for certain, but it was much grander than a “simple farm,” as Robard had led us to believe. The manor house was two stories high, with a large wooden porch running along its front. The steps leading up to it were cracked and loose in a few places, but the thatched roof was in grave disrepair. What had once been glass windows on the front of the house were now boarded up.
Beyond the house lay a barn, a smokehouse and a few smaller outbuildings. The corral next to the barn was missing several lengths of fencing and would have a hard time holding even a small goat. If Hode land was in such a state, I could only imagine what the poorer farmers were experiencing.
Robard and his mother left the small plot and he took her arm, leading her to the yard. His face was drawn and pinched in anger. I felt his grief at what had befallen his mother and his land. We had come here for rest, but there was little peace to be found.
During our travels, Robard had spoken very little of his mother. Despite her circumstances and what must have been her apparent shock at his unexpected return, she showed us a delightful smile. The loss of her husband was tempered by the return of her only child. She could barely take her eyes off of him and followed him around the yard like a puppy. Angel took great delight in meeting Mistress Hode, who fussed over the little mutt as if she were one of her own children.
“Oh, Rob, where ever did you find such a sweet little girl?” his mother cooed, rubbing Angel on the belly.
“A long story,” he said. “Mother, there’s folk here I need you to welcome. These two in particular have been with me since the Holy Land. Tristan is this scoundrel’s name, calls himself a squire to a Templar Knight, but I think it might be a tall tale he’s told,” Robard said with a twinkle in his eye. He might be angry and upset, but he was not about to forget his manners in front of his mother. He was trying to cheer her up and focus on something besides all the grief.
“You’re a friend to my Robin boy?” she asked.
“I am indeed, ma’am,” I said.
“Then you are always welcome here,” she replied, touching me on the cheek with a tiny wrinkled hand.
“Thank you, ma’am. You are most kind,” I said.
Robard introduced his mother to Little John and Brother Tuck, and she was overjoyed to see Tuck in his friar’s robes. “It’s been far too long a time since we’ve had a man of God among us here in Sherwood,” she said. And when I explained that Tuck could neither speak nor hear, she reached out and patted him gently on the arm, as if it mattered not to her. She considered him a man of the church, and his presence was enough.
Before Robard had even had a chance to introduce her, she took Maryam by the hands.
“Poor lass. Why was it you were forced to travel so far with so many ruffians?”
Maryam, for once, was at a loss for words. She tried to stammer out a reply, but Robard interrupted.
“Mother, this is Maryam. We’ve been through some scrapes, the three of us, trying to get home. She can fight and I’ve seen her best more warriors than I can count. She’s saved my skin a dozen times. There’s a lot I need to tell you when there’s time.”
“It’s fine, Rob,” his mother said. “I could tell when you looked at her the first time that you’re quite taken with the lass and her with you. A mother knows these things.”
“What?” Robard burst out. “Oh no, it’s not like that. Maryam is. . She’s a. . I’m not taken. No ma’. .”
“Really?” said Mistress Hode.
“Really. .,” said Maryam, her eyes as sharp as her daggers. Robard stared at me helplessly. I only shrugged.
