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.

“Tristan, I want you to teach me to read.”

24

The night had warmed somewhat from the colder weather earlier in the day. We sat around the large cook fire and enjoyed Mistress Hode’s supper. It was meager food, with very little meat, but she did make a hearty venison stew and had baked fresh bread in anticipation of our return. Once she was over her anger about Robard’s rash adventure, her spirits returned. While she sat by the fire eating, with Maryam at her side, Mistress Hode regaled us all with funny stories of Robard as a child.

“When he was just a wee lad, couldn’t have been more than four, his father made him a small bow and cut the points off some arrows for him to practice with. He loved it. He marched around the fields shooting at any target he could find. One morning he decided to go out to the pasture behind the barn to hunt. Master Hode had raised a bull from a calf, he called him Henry after the king, and as far as Henry was concerned, none of us Hodes were welcome in his field. What made it worse was Robard decidin’ he wanted to hunt old Henry. He didn’t know them arrows weren’t going to stick in that tough hide and all they would do is make him angry.” She started to chuckle and Robard’s face reddened.

“Mother, please-” he pleaded. But everyone shushed him.

“The next thing you hear is Robin boy hollerin’ as loud as he could. ’Twas near on dinnertime his father and I stood right here in this very spot and look up to see him running as fast as his tiny legs would carry him. It had rained the night before and Robard runs straight for the corral fence with Ol’ Henry not more’n a few steps behind. He dives headfirst through the fence and lands facedown in the mud. Covered him from head to toe, it did!” She laughed and we laughed with her, and even Robard joined in.

Before the meal, Little John, Maryam and Robard and I had discussed what to do about the Shire Reeve. We all agreed he would be coming soon, and we needed to make ready.

“When do you think he’ll make his move?” Little John asked.

“As soon as he can gather his bailiffs and equip them. I would feel better if I knew how many men he had available,” I said.

After more discussion, Robard set Will and a few of the men to guard the gate for the night. It was unlikely the Shire Reeve would be here immediately. He would have to gather warrants and organize his posse. And we didn’t think he’d risk a night assault, not with every man in Sherwood carrying a longbow.

Robard’s entreaty that I teach him to read had humbled me. His concern was genuine, and it was a hard thing for him to ask. I promised to have him reading in no time and in truth believed he would be a quick study. In fact I had already given him his first lesson, scratching out his name in the dirt of the courtyard, showing him the letters and the sounds they made. Later in the evening I spotted him clandestinely practicing beside the fire while he enjoyed the company of his people, scratching away at the dirt with an arrow while the conversation went on around him.

When the meal was over, the talk continued, and I took leave to walk around the grounds and stretch my legs. Little John followed me.

“Something on your mind, lad?” he asked.

“Yes. And his name is William Wendenal. He will be here shortly, and in force. Robard and I locked him in his own jail and freed all of his prisoners. He can’t let such a thing pass unanswered.”

“For certain he will not,” Little John agreed, glancing back at the happy revelers around the fire. “It’s probably right and proper to let them enjoy their evening, but tomorrow we’d best prepare for a fight.”

Yet another plan, I thought. When and if I ever delivered the Grail to Rosslyn, I hoped to move to a country where plans were never required.

“John, you served in the army. What do you see here? What advantages do we have over this Shire Reeve?” I asked.

He was quiet for a moment, thinking. “We’ve got at least twelve good men: Will and his bunch plus what hands were left here helping Mistress Hode. They all know the longbow; it’s second nature to them. It keeps a man on horseback at a distance. I can make more points on the forge and anvil in the barn, so we’re in good shape there. But if the reeve and his men get in close, if we must fight hand to hand, it won’t go as well. We’ll be outnumbered and no match for their swords and axes. Not to mention they’ll probably have crossbows as well.”

I nodded. The crossbows didn’t bother me as much. They couldn’t be spanned on horseback, and in a pitched battle, men with longbows could fire nearly twenty times for every shot from a crossbowman. What I worried over most were Will and his “Merry Men.” Roaming the forest as bandits and preying on unsuspecting victims was one thing, but taking on trained, equipped and mounted fighters was another. For a moment I felt just as I had on the walls of Montsegur, wishing I had Sir Thomas and a regimento of Templars at my side.

Then an image came to me. I remembered yesterday as we had ridden hard through Sherwood for Robard’s home. We had stopped at the spring and Allan Aidale had climbed the tree to retrieve the cache of arrows. Robard, Will, Allan and the others were at home here in the woods. They used the forest for food and shelter and anything else they needed. There was our advantage. We couldn’t stand toe-to-toe with the Shire Reeve in a straight-up fight. But we could certainly use the forest against him.

“What are you thinking?” Little John asked.

“I’m thinking about a hollow tree,” I said. When I told him my plan, he smiled and clapped me on the shoulder.

“Tomorrow, then,” he said as he sauntered off to the barn to sleep. We would need to rise early to implement my plan, and we all needed rest.

The next morning, the wind rose out of the west, and it had grown colder. When I stepped out of the house, the breeze bit into me. But I thought of something Brother Rupert had always said: “Sauce for the goose is sauce for the gander,” meaning if we were going to be cold and miserable while the weather turned, so would the Shire Reeve and his men. If I had to bet, I would wager Robard and the people of Sherwood were much more able to tolerate the cold than Wendenal and his men. One more thing we might take advantage of.

Pottage simmered over the cook fire, and Will, Robard and the rest of the men stood about, looking like they had too much to do but no idea where to start. The first order was to prepare our defenses and choose the ground

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