Chapter Three

Erik and his men rode hard, deep into the heart of Sherwood. Erik could hear a scouting party pursuing them, but he knew these woods better than anyone and he eventually lost them. After riding for almost two hours, Erik halted his band of men at a secluded clearing. They would be safe here, for tonight. The only person other than himself that knew of this place was Christine had she would rather die than betray him.

He signaled for his men to make their camp here and jumped from his horse, Cesar. Gently, he took Antoinette off Cesar and laid her on a patch of moss. Nadir was at his side in an instant.

"Please Erik, step back. I must tend to her," His Persian friend said.

Reluctantly, Erik left her side, but stayed there, hovering behind Nadir. HE watched as Nadir tore open her dress, black as she was still mourning her dead husband, and exposed her wound.

There was blood everywhere, still pouring from the wound. Antoinette's face was ashen, dangerously so. Erik had years of experience with wounds and death and the signs that she was showing weren't good. Oh God, Christine saw this! She must have told Meg.

"Will she be alright?"

"I can't tell at this point," Nadir said, never halting in applying healing herbs and wrapping bandages around her. Erik gave him a curt, unseen nod and turned to face his men.

There were twelve in all, not counting himself, Nadir and Antoinette, so that made fifteen. It was a good number, but they had started with almost thirty men. Too many war companions and trusted friends were lost. If they were going to survive, they needed new recruits.

That wouldn't be too hard, as there were plenty of able body men who hated John. Plenty of Saxons who had been oppressed for far too long. Yes, John would regret ever banishing him from court. Actually, it was the best thing John could do. As an outlaw, Erik was not bound to the edicts that governed England, but could actually do as he pleased. The only catch was that he was without the law's protection. And he could not show his face in public where John was.

Meaning he could not entirely ensure Christine's safety. Or Meg's.

He had to count on Queen Eleanor for that. The woman rather disliked her youngest son and with good reason. The Queen also adored Christine and Meg. The girls would be safe under her wing, as long as Christine didn't do anything stupid.

"Sir, what about our families? Will they be safe from John?" young knight named Jacob asked.

Erik spoke honestly and gravely. "I cannot completely ensure their safety. Our Queen Eleanor is in our favor and has protected the woman and children of the castle ever since she came to England. We must pray that she continues to do so." Erik could tell the men were not completely satisfied, but they did trust Eleanor. "Also, I have a small handful of knights of great power loyal to me that stayed out of our battle this morning at my command. Their presence at the castle will ensure that we have good spies and reliable bodyguards of those still loyal to Richard. I believe that this will guarantee that John will not be entirely omnipotent."

Several cracks about John's masculinity and dottiness followed Erik's statement. Erik chuckled with them, glad to see his men in a merrier mood.

Merry Men…

That's it! England needed a people's army, one to defend them against John and his traitor nights. And Erik and his men were the right people for the job. Erik was popular among the people so finding new men to join him would not be so difficult. The woods of Sherwood was large enough for hundreds of men to live undetected and it was filled with wild game that would feed them in even the harshest of winters. And has for funds, ha! There were plenty of fat old traitor knights and bishops whose purses were too heavy! Yes, The Merry Men of Sherwood would be a fine army, with a name peaceable and unknown enough to speak freely of.

He relayed his idea to his men, asking them to follow him on his quest to insure justice and safety to the oppressed Saxon people of England. What Erik de Noir said there in that secluded grove that raised the spirits of his formerly broken men and drove them into such a feverish enthusiasm was too perfect, too magnificent to be written with all the magic they contained.

With their spirits high again, Erik and his men happily hunted deer for their supper. They were merry that night, made merrier when Nadir reported that Antoinette would make a full recovery. The Persian doctor was toasted with sweet forest water and crowned in flowers, much to Nadir's indignity.

Later, Antoinette was well enough to join in the festivities (within reason) and the men crowned her as well, calling her the fairy spirit of the forest.

She had feeling similar to Nadir.

Erik did not join in the fun. His genuine happiness for his men's gaiety turned melancholy as he felt the small object in his pocket. Heading off to the nearby stream, Erik took out that object, a ring. Not just any ring, for this was a special ring for the most wonderful and beautiful woman on earth: Christine. Holding it at eye level between his fingers, Erik admired his handiwork. It was a perfect compliment of Christine's nature. The band was silver of the purest beauty and wrapped around it was a delicate metalworking of green ivy, complimenting Christine's sylvan tendencies.

Oh Christine, forgive me for ruining your birthday. It pains me greatly that I couldn't give this to you.

Erik's face hardened and he clutched the ring tightly in his fist. Damn John! Damn Richard for leaving! Damn Christine and all her beauty and goodness that haunted him. Thanks to all this, his careful waiting, preparation and plans had gone to waste. This ring, it was not only to be a present, but a plea for Christine's love. She turned sixteen today, the day Erik swore he would ask for Christine's hand. Now, his lovely angel would never know his feelings, at least, not till Richard came back and pardoned him.

Which was looking to be a very long time.