The Ballads of Robin Hood
Second Fit: The Knight's Tale
The knight looked around sadly at the assembled company. Then he began.
"A hundred years my ancestors have been knights," he said. "But I now disgrace their name, and have nothing but my wife and children."
"How did this come about?" Robin asked.
"By my great folly and small kindnesses," The knight replied ruefully. "I had a son, who should have been my heir. He was a splendid jouster. When he was twenty years of age, he killed a knight of Lancaster on the jousting field. I was forced to sell all I had to pay amends, and when that wasn't enough, I mortaged my lands to the rich abbot at Saint Mary's Abbey."
"How much do you owe?" Robin asked.
"Four hundred pounds in total," the knight said, rubbing his temples. "And the abbot wants his loan."
Robin thought for a moment. "If you lose your land, what happens?"
"I suppose I'll go as a pilgrim to the Holy Land, and hopefully die on the journey." He stood up and began to leave. "Farewell, friend. And have a good day. It's too fine to be sad."
"What of your friends?" Robin asked.
"Not one of them knows me now, though they were friendly enough when I had lands and goods."
A hiccup brought everyone's attention away from the knight. It had come from Much, who was hastily wiping away what looked suspiciously like tears.
"Sun's in my eyes," he muttered, by way of an excuse. Will snorted.
"Do you have any friend that would be your sponsor?" Robin asked, bluntly ignoring the two boys.
The knight shook his head. "None but God."
"That's not funny," Robin said. "Who would God borrow it from—Peter, Paul, or John? Find me a better sponsor."
"I have no other, save Our Dear Lady."
Robin smiled. "A better sponsor couldn't be found," he said. "Come, Little John. Bring four hundred pounds, well-measured. Will, you help him carry it."
So John went into the treasure room, where the group kept the money they got from robbing rich travellers, and counted out four hundred pounds.
"Is it well-measured?" asked Much.
"What grieves you?" John asked in mock indignation. "It's for that gentle knight. I wouldn't shortchange a man in poverty." Having brought the money before the board, he said, "Robin, his clothes are very thin. You must give him some better ones. We've that good scarlet cloth, and Lincoln green besides, that we took from those rich merchants the other day."
"Of course, of course," said Robin. "Measure him three yards of each colour, and be sure you measure true."
Little John, having no other measure, took up his long bow, and counted each length of it a yard.
"What sort of cloth measurer do you think you are?" said Much. "Your bow is taller than I am."
Will stood by laughing. "By God almighty," he said between gasps. "John may give him good measure, for it costs him but lightly." Robin smiled at his nephew's pronouncement.
"Robin, you must give the knight a horse to carry home his goods," John pointed out.
"Give him the grey packhorse, and a new saddle," said Robin. "What would you give him, men?"
"A stout pair of boots," said Will.
"A war horse!" Much piped up.
Will laughed as John pointed out to Much that the band didn't have a war horse to give.
"And what shall you give him, John?" Robin asked.
"Sir, the gilded spurs we took from His Honour, the Sheriff of Nottingham. I believe he'll use them well, and none of us can ride."
The knight looked as if he might cry. "When shall my day be?" he asked.
"This day, twelve months from now," Robin said without hesitation. "Here, under this greenwood tree.
"It would be a shame for a knight to ride alone, without squire, yeoman or page. Therefore, I shall lend you Little John to act as your squire."