“If you’ve come to arrest me, I’d advise you to turn around right now and ride back to Nottingham and never return. This is Hode land you’re on, and if you intend to remove me from it, I give you fair warning you’ll need far more than a slip of parchment,” Robard proclaimed.
“You willfully disobey a direct and lawfully given command from a duly sworn officer of the King?” William Wendenal asked. There was a slight flicker of concern in his features. He seldom saw resistance. He was used to the power of his office, but we had humiliated the man in Nottingham, locking him in his own jail. He could not let it pass, yet he clearly expected that this show of force would bring us to our knees.
“I disobey it as willfully as I am able. I know what justice is, Shire Reeve, and what you
“Then you leave me no choice but to use force to subdue you,” Wendenal replied.
“I expect that’s true,” Robard said. “In fact I was counting on it!”
And with those words he raised his bow, took aim at the Shire Reeve and fired. As we intended, his shot went wide and landed in the ground a few yards past Wendenal’s mount. We turned our horses quickly and spurred them back in the direction we’d come. A quick glance over my shoulder showed Wendenal waving his arms and ordering his men forward.
Our hoofbeats pounded like thunder in my ears, and we made sure we stayed far enough ahead of Wendenal and his men. If my plan worked, we would greatly diminish his desire for a pitched battle. As we rode, we passed the first marker, a bit of red cloth I’d tied to a tree close to the lane.
“Now!” I shouted, and above the noise of our horses there was a loud thunk as an ax bit into wood. The day before, we had chopped down a good-size tree, fastened ropes to both ends and hoisted it high into the treetops and tied it off. A rope at its center was tied to a tree across the lane, creating a giant pendulum when it was released. The log was hidden from view, and as the bailiffs rode after Wendenal, the rope holding it in place was cut and it swung down in a vicious arc, hitting the rear of the column and driving six of the bailiffs from their saddles.
Wendenal, riding hard after us, didn’t even realize he had just lost one quarter of his force.
“Come on, you worthless snake!” Robard shouted at Wendenal, turning in the saddle to send another arrow in his direction. He had no intention of shooting the Shire Reeve, but wanted to make sure he kept pursuing us.
One hundred yards farther up the lane we passed the next marker. Another shout and two of Will’s men on one side of the lane pulled on a large rope that had been hidden on the ground by dead leaves and grass. It rose up in a flash, anchored to another trunk across the lane. They quickly spun it around a tree to hold it in place, and this time the bailiffs at the head of the column were lifted right off their horses. Four riders went down hard. Behind them, the other mounted men reined up, their horses spooked and confused by the falling bodies and rearing horses in front of them.
“Now!” I shouted again, and this time a large net we had woven from rope and hidden beneath a thin layer of soil in the lane was hoisted into place behind the column. It was quickly tied off to two sturdy trees by Tuck and Little John, cutting the remaining dozen horsemen off from retreat. A hail of arrows from the trees kept them penned in.
Robard and I reined to a halt, turning our mounts to face the still-oncoming Wendenal.
“End this, Shire Reeve!” Robard commanded as Wendenal halted his horse a few yards away from us. “Before your men are injured further. We ask nothing more than that you leave us be. Go while you can, and forget about ever trying to take Hode land.”
Wendenal glanced behind him at the confusion his bailiffs had suddenly found themselves in.
“Forward!” he shouted. “Take these men into custody! I order you!”
But Will, Allan and the other bowmen, hidden high above us in the trees, kept the fourteen remaining able- bodied bailiffs from taking even three steps.
Enraged, Wendenal gave the command to attack again, and another brace of arrows inched ever closer to his men. They were frightened. Every sensible man who had ever been in a fight feared archers, and here arrows were appearing as if by magic. I smiled.
“You can’t win here, Wendenal,” Robard said. “Leave, before it gets worse.”
For a moment it occurred to me that I might have misjudged the man. He was undeterred and with a shout pulled his own sword, holding it high and spurring his horse toward Robard. With an almost unnatural calmness, Robard leapt from his horse. He calmly drew an arrow and fired. It whizzed through the air, striking Wendenal in the forearm. He screamed and dropped his sword, tumbling from his horse.
Moaning in agony and staring wild-eyed at the arrow sticking out of his arm, the Shire Reeve managed to stagger to his knees. Robard dismounted and slowly walked to him, kicking his sword away. Wendenal tried to stand but the pain was too much.
Robard pulled another shaft and nocked it in his bow.
“Robard!” I shouted. “He’s defenseless!”
Robard drew and pointed the arrow directly at the center of Wendenal’s chest. Despite grimacing in pain, he did not flinch or beg for his life. We have beaten him today, I thought, but this is not over.
“You are lucky, Shire Reeve, my friend Tristan of St. Alban’s is here to guide my conscience, for were he not, I would dispatch you now and think nothing of it. Here is what is going to happen. You have trespassed on Hode property. You have come here uninvited-”
“You are a criminal!” Wendenal shouted. “I have a duly sworn warrant-”
“I don’t care a sow’s ear for your warrant, you miserable steaming pile of polecat dung. You are a tyrant and a bully. You and your men will walk out of Sherwood Forest. Your weapons and horses will be left behind as compensation for the transgressions you have committed against the people of Sherwood. Order your men to drop their swords, take your wounded and be gone. And do not come back.”
“I’ll be back,” Wendenal sneered. “Don’t you worry, Hode! Your life is forfeit! And yours too, squire. I’ll bring a hundred men next time, two hundred if I need to. Do you really think your pitiful little band of peasants can stand against me?”
Robard said nothing, his bow still drawn, and for a moment I thought his resolve might weaken and he would let the arrow go. Then I was distracted by noise and movement, first to my right, then to my left. Men were moving through the woods, and for an instant I worried we had been outflanked. Somehow Wendenal had tricked us.
But through the trees came the people of Sherwood. I recognized many of their faces as those we had freed from the jail in Nottingham. They were dressed like Will and his men, and they had brought their families as well. Each of them carried some type of weapon: old swords, crossbows or longbows, a few with pitch-forks and axes. They took up positions on either side of the lane, flanking the Shire Reeve and his bailiffs.
“Robard,” I said quietly.
“I see them,” he said. “Do you, Wendenal?”
The Shire Reeve held our gaze as more and more people poured out of the woods lining the lane. Cold resignation colored his face.
“Master Hode,” one of the men from the jail called out to him. “We thought you might have some trouble, and after what you told us in Nottingham, well, we talked and decided that if you’re ready to stand up for what is right, we are too. We’re with you, Thane Hode!” There was a resounding cheer from the assembled people.
Robard smiled and lowered his bow, quickly slipping the arrow back into his wallet.
“There’s your answer, Shire Reeve. You don’t face just one. Here in Sherwood Forest you face an army of free men. Now do as I said. Gather up your bailiffs and get off my land. It’s a long walk back to Nottingham. Will Scarlet!” he hollered out. “Make sure our uninvited guests find their way off the property.”
Will shinnied gleefully down the tree where he had been hiding. “Aye, lad. I’ll see to it.”
“I’ll be back, Hode!” The Shire Reeve spat out the words. “Don’t think this is over.”
“I don’t think any such thing. And if it’s more you want, come ahead. We’ll be waiting. But for today, it’s over right enough.”
Robard turned on his heel and leapt up onto his horse. With a smile and a wink, he rode back up the lane and left William Wendenal kneeling in the dust, still gingerly holding his wounded arm. I followed Robard as the cheers of the people of Sherwood rang through the air.
