Tuck – faith and couriosity

Robert was the second son of the well-reputed shoemaker William Stafford of Bristol. When he was a little boy he used to wrap up in his blankets as tight as he could, so that he lay in his bed like a caterpillar in its cocoon. Because of this habit his older brother William half mockingly, half lovingly called him 'Tuck'. By and by, this name was first taken over by the family, then by friends and neighbours. The name Robert was soon forgotten.

Little Tuck was a happy, inquisitive child with a distinctive sense of justice and a strong will to help. It seemed impossible not to like this boy.

He kept all these features when he grew up.

All members of the Stafford family were of medium size with broad shoulders and a tendency for a great girth. Tuck wasn't an exception.

He enjoyed life. In the afternoons he would meet up with the other half-grown up boys, improving their skill with quarterstaff and bow.

Even more than that he liked to find himself a quiet spot for a little nap or a little contemplating.

The family lived well. Bristol was a well-off trading town in need of shoes and leather goods. The shop would have been big enough for both of his sons, but William Stafford the elder was reluctant to share his property so that his sons would compete with each other.

Tuck, noticing his father's troubles tackled the problem his way.

One evening shortly before his seventeenth birthday while the family was having dinner he told them he wanted to become a monk.

Against his expectations his parents liked the idea.

His brother, at first making fun of him, was soon convinced. The only point of argument was the monastery Tuck had picked: instead of choosing a monastery in or around Bristol, he wanted to go to Thornton Abbey. That was about as far away as one could go without leaving England.

His little sister, a girl of eleven years, immediately started whining as if Tuck was to be sent to cannibals.

But Tuck preferred it this way. He knew his family well. Getting used to the strict rules of monastic life would be hard enough even without his family showing up constantly to see him.

He celebrated his seventeenth birthday at home. Then he, his father and his brother set out north on the old roman road.

The monks at Thornton gave them a warm welcome. Tuck's wish to enter their monastery was happily fulfilled.

Thornton Abbey was famous all over England for its library, which the monks were very proud of. The monks lived secluded lives according to monastic rules. All they lived for was their work and their prayer.

The twelve months of Tuck's novitiate flew by, while he was trying to get used to the rules, which he found harder than he had imagined. Especially the commands of obedience and moderation were hard to keep.

Through the years something else started bothering Tuck, something he would never have expected: boredom. He tried to escape by working his way towards ordination. He became a priest. For more he lacked the ambition, the sense for politics and the purposefulness. Instead of being called 'Father Tuck' as it would have been his right, he still preferred 'Brother' or 'Friar'.

Soon after his ordination when he had nothing to keep him occupied any more he got bored again.

By and by his boredom started to influence his morality.

Instead of sitting at his desk in the scriptorium he was more often found in the kitchen where he used to sneak the best bits off the abbot's plate. In winter he hung around in the warming house where writing monks were actually only allowed to go when their fingers were so frozen that they couldn't hold their brush any more.

Tuck didn't believe that god had given him fingers to freeze them off in a writing room in north England.

When Tuck started to fall asleep during mass the abbot drew a line. Of course, many monks were dozing off during the service and normally these minor sins were not even given a second thought as long as they were confessed – but Tuck snored so loud that there wasn't any looking away. Something had to be done!

Tuck was sent to Nottingham Castle as the Sheriff's new chaplain. For the first time in eleven years he was allowed to leave Thornton Abbey.

Tuck was looking forward to his new duty. But first he had to get there. The abbot refused to give him a horse. He thought some humbleness would do Tuck well. For a donkey Tuck was far too heavy due to all the little meals he had sneaked from the kitchens. He would have to walk.

When he reached the gatehouse of Nottingham Castle all sweaty and out of breath from the steep climb he stopped dead in his tracks looking around curiously. The narrow inner court was bustling with people and horses.

When he asked one of the guards told him that a lady had come to the castle to live here as a ward of the sheriff's brother.

Amidst of the crowd there was a young girl standing very still. She held herself straight keeping her chin up. She was very pale, perhaps due to all this commotion, which was a lovely contrast to her long auburn hair. She couldn't be much older than eleven or twelve. She looked like a delicate flower about to be crushed by these walls of stone. She conquered Tuck's heart in an instant. Slowly he walked across the court, smiled and said: "A good day to you, little flower. What's your name?"

Her hazel eyes were full of tears. She blinked fiercely not wanting to cry. Instead she smiled and answered: "Marion. Marion of Leaford, Fath… Brother."

"Don't call me brother," said Tuck. "Just call me Tuck. I'm new here myself, you know. I think we could be friends, couldn't we? Do you know where to get a little bite here?"

Now Marion really laughed. Tuck smiled back, because he had asked that last question just to make her smile – well, more or less.

That's how Marion's and Tuck's friendship began.

The sheriff didn't think much of religion and even less of women. So Marion and Tuck kept to themselves most of the time. During the winter they met in the castles' chapel but both preferred to be outside. As soon as the weather allowed it they could be found in the vast orchards at the foot of the castle hill. Here, by and by Tuck learned about Marion's story.

Marion's father owned a manor and a bit of land west of Sherwood. One year ago he had followed King Richard on the crusade leaving his manor and his daughter in the hands of an administrator: the abbot of 's of all people – Hugo de Rainault, the sheriff's brother. But at least Marion had been allowed to stay at home.

Not long ago Marion had been told that her father was dead, fallen at the siege of Acre. Marion's world had been shattered. And Abbot Hugo had reacted immediately. New stewards had been sent to Leaford Grange. There hadn't been any place left for Marion. Like an unwanted present she had been sent to Nottingham Castle to live there. It felt like a disaster for her. She had loved her father dearly even though they hadn't got along too well with each other. Marion was too headstrong and freedom-loving for her father's liking, not like a girl should be at all. Now her father was gone and she was alone. She felt overthrown by fate. There was nothing she could do and she hated being helpless.

"Where's the sense in all this, Tuck?" she asked. It was a nice warm summer's evening shortly before her sixteenth birthday. Marion and Tuck had lived at the castle for three and a half years now and still Marion was full of anger about everything that had happened to her since her father's departure.

Tuck watched Marion for a long time contemplating. Finally he said: "Look at the bees, little flower." When there were other people around she respectfully said 'Brother Tuck' and he called her 'Lady Marion' but when they were alone he still used the name he had found for her when they had met for the first time.

The bees were Marion's passion and the only thing she had been allowed to bring from Leaford Grange.

"Look at the bees, little flower. They're on their way all day long. Even when they're in their hive they seem to swarm around without any sense. And yet there is a sense in their swarming around. It keeps the swarm alive. I'm convinced that the queen bee knows about every single one of her swarm."

"Our king doesn't know about his subjects and he doesn't even care," Marion said miserably.

"Perhaps not," answered Tuck. "But there is somebody who knows and who cares."

When Marion turned sixteen there was a sudden and unwelcome interest in her from the sheriff and the abbot. Suddenly she had to be present during the mealtimes and she was told what to wear.

Tuck didn't like this new interest in his little flower. Then a talkative scribe told him that they were trying to marry off Marion. Nobles, knights, even merchants had been informed that there was a virgin of the right age at Nottingham castle: that means if the dowry was enough. Otherwise neither the abbot nor the sheriff were ready to give up Marion's four hundred acres of land. In that case the girl should preferably go to Kirklees abbey, a Nunnery which belonged to the abbot of 's, and become a nun, so everything she owned would fall to the church – Abbot Hugo de Rainault!

There were few interested, but then came Simon de Bellême. Cruel by nature he had turned his back on God during the crusade. Now he worshipped the devil. Rumours went that his wife had taken her own life because she couldn't stand his cruelty and blasphemy any more. Others said that the baron de Bellême had murdered his wife with his own hands to sacrifice her to the demon he worshipped.

Whatever reasons the baron needed a new wife and he had cast his eyes on Marion. The sheriff and the abbot wouldn't stand in his way except for their greed. After all the baron was a powerful and dangerous man who was not to be angered. When Marion refused him saying that she would become a nun in Kirklees the baron raged that both the sheriff and the abbot would gladly give the girl to him soon, once the Hooded Man would come to the forest.

When they were alone again Marion asked Tuck who that Hooded Man was. Tuck knew quite a lot tales from all over England and he gladly told them.

He told Marion that the Hooded Man was a legend; a hero who would fight for the people of Sherwood against oppression and injustice. He was chosen by Herne the Hunter, Lord of the trees. Marion showed great interest.

Some days later there was a commotion in the castle that Tuck barely noticed being in the chapel at that time to celebrate matins.

It seemed that some wretched prisoners had managed to escape the dank holes that were the dungeons. Tuck could only congratulate these poor devils. Anything was better than the dungeons at Nottingham castle.

He only realized some hours later that Marion had been much more involved in the commotion. She came to him with shining eyes, telling him that one of the prisoners had been in her room. She had talked to him. He had told her she was like a May morning. Then he had pulled up his hood and escaped through a window. That was the Hooded Man, that must have been the Hooded Man!

She was literally beaming with joy and admiration.

Tuck knew the signs. He had never been seriously in love but even a blind man could see that his little flower was in love. No, he had never imagined nor wanted a cutthroat, an outlaw for his little flower. Well, she would never see him again anyway. In less than a month she would become a novice at Kirklees.

These last weeks with Marion passed by far too quickly. Too soon her things were packed and she was dressed in a costly dress with silver embroidery, a velvet cloak trimmed with fur and a silken wimple. Guy of Gisburne, steward to the abbot, along with several armed soldiers, was to escort her to the abbey. In the general din of the departure she could barely manage to tell Tuck to look after her bees. The things they really wanted to say were left unsaid.

Tuck wiped his eyes and went slowly back to his chapel with his head hung low and his shoulders dropping.

Life in the castle without her seemed grey and dull. Nobody in his small congregation could replace her.

He thought he would never see her again. Against all odds he hoped that she would become happy being a nun.

It was a big shock when two days later at dinner time abbot Hugo came storming into the great hall raging that the escort had been attacked, the soldiers killed, Marion abducted and Gisburne humiliated. Worst for him seemed the not the abduction of his ward but the humiliation of his steward. They had stripped him and bound him across his horse, letting it loose in reach of 's – but before they had led it through every wretched village on the way.

The shame!

As for Tuck, he thought that this little experience could only do good to Gisburne.

The abbot ranted on. How had these filthy peasants managed to beat trained soldiers?

The villain's leader called himself 'Herne's son', whatever that should mean…

On hearing that Tuck felt relieved. He remembered the things Marion had told him about the man who had come to her room. Tuck only hoped that Marion had left an equally deep impression. If she had she would hopefully be safe with this outlaw. Anyway, secretly he sent out a messenger to find Marion. When the man returned and told him that Marion was safe in Kirklees, Tuck was relieved for his little flower.

But what the abbot had told had made Tuck curious. He wanted to find out more about this outlaw who called himself Herne's son. He kept his eyes and ears open.

Every day he heard new stories about this 'Robin Hood'. Nottingham was bustling with excitement. The rumours flew. They grew even louder, when it was announced that the sheriff wanted to hold a big shooting competition. The best archers should then hunt down Robin Hood. The price for the very best bowman was to be the silver arrow. Tuck knew that this arrow was sacred to the Saxons. To give it away as a price in a competition was a slap in the face for the biggest part of the English.

Tuck wasn't allowed to be there when the competition was held. The sheriff must have realized that Tuck secretly felt sympathetic towards the outlaws, so he ordered Tuck to stay in his chapel. He only heard the great uproar coming from the field. In the evening he was told that Robin Hood himself had taken part in the competition in disguise. He had won, he had even beat the sheriff's archer and the Saracen slave of the baron de Bêlleme. Then he had escaped – with the silver arrow. Slowly, the man was beginning to gain Tuck's respect!

Some days later Tuck accompanied the sheriff to the abbey of 's to meet with the abbot and Gisburne. The sheriff had been in a horrible mood ever since the competition. Tuck assumed that he was only asked to come along because the sheriff wanted to have somebody to yell at with him. The men gathered in the church when all of a sudden the Baron de Bêlleme was announced. This meant trouble. Tuck kept in the background listening. He couldn't believe what he heard. The baron had a plan to get the hooded man out of Sherwood. He could only be defeated on open ground. But to get Robin Hood out of Sherwood the baron needed Marion. He wanted her – at all costs. When the abbot objected that she was a nun now the baron replied that it wasn't her lands he wanted, and of course the abbot's objection had only been about that. They came to an agreement very fast: the baron was to get Marion, the abbot her lands.

Tuck was horrified. So horrified that in spite of knowing it better he couldn't hold his tongue. After all this was about his little flower!

"My lords," he cried, "you cannot do that. That…" The sheriff interrupted him, yelling that he would have the fat flayed from Tuck's back if he didn't shut up. Tuck turned and fled. In the stables he convinced one of the lay brothers to give him a mule. Hastily he rode the poor beast towards Kirklees. He had to protect Marion!

He was quite clear that he would never be able to return to Nottingham. He didn't mind. For five years he had been the sheriff's whipping boy. Well, somebody else should do it from now on. He would become a wandering priest and help the poor. He could be of more use like this than he was now.

In front of the gates of Kirklees he got off of the exhausted animals back, made a dignified face and knocked. When a nun opened he told her that he had come to hear the Lady Marion's confession. Without further questioning he was led to Marion. Her beaming face on seeing him told him all he needed to know: she had never been happy at Kirklees. Hurriedly he told her about the evil plans of the baron, the sheriff and the abbot. He and Marion had to get away from here as fast as they could.

Marion was alarmed when she heard about it and yet there was something in her eyes that Tuck hadn't seen before. A taste for adventure, maybe? She told Tuck straightforward that he should take her to Robin Hood. If he still wanted her she would be his wife. When Tuck said that she couldn't marry an outlaw she asked: "Why not? I love him!"

Tuck became more and more curious to the man who was chosen by ancient gods, committed heroic deeds and was loved by his little flower. He agreed to take her to Sherwood.

Without being seen they reached the gates. There Marion struck the sister gatekeeper over the head from behind. Tuck was astonished.

As fast as they could they hasted through the forest. When they realized they were being pursued they ran faster but couldn't get away. At last they were surrounded.

But Tuck still had something up his sleeve. Before he had left 's he had stolen a sword from one of the sheriff's armed men. Now he drew it from underneath his cowl. It had been some years since he had last fought with a sword but he didn't want to surrender just like that. Their attackers wore tunics with the baron de Bêlleme's emblem, like he had expected. Somehow he had become a tool in the baron's plans. He meant to repay.

He swung his sword fiercely. The baron's men were surprised that a monk knew how to wield a sword. One of the attackers got a vicious blow across the thigh. He fell away screaming. But in the end there were just too many of them. Tuck saw a fist and the pommel of a sword coming towards his head but there was nothing he could do. His world went black. The last thing he heard was Marion's muffled cry.

When he came to his senses again he laid leaning against a tree. A young man with long dark hair and eyes as green as the forest was wiping the blood from his face. Tuck looked in the young man's eyes and was suddenly convinced: This man really was the Hooded Man. This man could make everything come true!