Chapter 5 – The Gang's All Here!
Once the three men of Sherwood put no small distance between themselves and Nottingham Castle, they paused for a moment to rest and assimilate the results of their expedition.
As their master recounted the condition he had found King Richard in, Scarlett became indignant and he murmured angrily, "How dare Nottingham shackle His Royal Highness like a common cutpurse!"
"I take umbrage at that Will Scarlett! Nothin' common about us cutpurses! You oughta know that!"
"You know what I mean Robin!" smirked Scarlett.
"More than you know Will, more than you know!" He thumped Scarlett affectionately on the shoulder and then seated himself upon a large stone outcrop to peer thoughtfully up at his two men. "Comin' across that tunnel was a bit of good luck. That's our ticket back into the castle, lads. I'll wager the Sheriff 'as no idea it's even there."
Scarlett and Little John nodded in agreement and remained silent as their master continued to voice his thoughts aloud.
"Didn't appear to be a very large garrison, unless the bulk of the guards are travellin' with the Sheriff. Which, given that Sherwood is rife with outlaws..." he looked at his men with a wry smile, "would be a very wise decision on Nottingham's part."
"Aye," agreed Little John. "Given the Sheriff's last experience as he trod through Sherwood, I'd not be surprised if he had the bulk of the castle garrison with him!"
They all had a good chuckle at that; however, if that were indeed true, it meant that time was more than ever of the essence. For unbeknownst to them even as they spoke, the Sheriff's party had already completed more than three-quarters of the arduous, lengthy journey from London to Nottingham.
After they arrived back at camp in Sherwood, the rest of the men noisily crowded round, anxious for news of the King. Little John and Will Scarlett tried to quiet the men down and bring about a measure of order.
"Fellows! Fellows! Form a circle round about so all may hear!" shouted Scarlett. He urged the men to encircle the area where he and Little John stood in front of their master.
As the men obeyed Scarlett's instructions, Little John raised his arms, "Hush men! Let Robin speak!"
All eyes focused on their master, who stood upon a tree stump in the center of them all in order to be heard. "Men! Will, Little John and I found our good King Richard. I saw the King with me own eyes and spoke to 'im. We know exactly where 'e's bein' 'eld within the castle and we're goin' to return tomorrow to release 'im!"
The men raised their voices in three rousing huzzahs at that news. Scarlett and Little John once more quieted them down so their master could continue.
"Yer right men, that is good news indeed but we'll not be finished until we 'ave our good sovereign 'ere in Sherwood where we can protect 'im."
The men nodded and murmured amongst themselves. A single voice from the rear of the crowd called for quiet and then asked, "How and when, Robin?"
He chuckled and nodded. "The very questions I've been askin' meself! The 'when' is tomorrow mornin'. As for the other, 'ere's what we're gonna do..." The men gathered closer as their master outlined his plan to rescue good King Richard.
After a night spent in preparation and rest, the next morning brought news of great and distressing import. They had just polished off another fine English breakfast courtesy of Much, when a shout arose.
"Robin! Robin! A messenger for you!" There was something about the tone of Scarlett's voice that alarmed him and he immediately jumped up to answer.
"What goes there, Will?"
Scarlett ushered a badly-winded messenger forward, who approached to instantly take a knee.
"Get up mate! We don't stand on ceremony 'ere!" He reached down and lifted the man to his feet, then patiently waited whilst he recovered his breath. "Catch yer breath first, there ya go lad. Right, then. What 'ave you got to tell me?"
"Our sentries to the south report that Prince John, the Sheriff of Nottingham, and their column have entered Sherwood Forest!"
"What? Already?" He gestured Little John to come near. "I thought your spies said they were comin' back tomorrow!"
Little John shrugged, seemingly unperturbed. "Looks like they were wrong Robin."
Apparently! Thanks for nothin' mate! he fumed. What he said was, "That's a game changer, that is. We need a backup plan to slow down their progress." He paced as he thought the situation out. "We need to delay the arrival of the Sheriff's party at least until we get back inside the bailey!"
He pulled Scarlett to his side, "Will, fetch me Friar Tuck and Much! They're goin' to haveta delay Nottingham's return so that you, Little John and I can get back into the castle and rescue the King!"
Scarlett immediately obeyed. Soon Friar Tuck and Much stood before their master, listening to his instructions.
"I want you to take a goodly number of men with you, as well as a few wagons. There need to be enough men and baggage to seriously slow down Nottingham's column. Dress the men as pilgrims and friars, with weapons well concealed."
"Weapons, Robin?" asked a concerned Much.
"Yes Much, simply a wise precaution. If our luck holds, you'll not 'ave to use them. Now, assemble yourselves well ahead of Nottingham's vanguard at the roadside and await our signal. When you 'ear the signal, I want you to fill the road and very slowly make your way towards the castle. Block Nottingham's progress as long as you possibly can. I leave the means up to you. I'm sure between the two of you, you will be able to come up with a nice load of codswallop to fool the Sheriff."
Tuck and Much nodded and made haste to fulfill their master's directions. After some little while, all was ready and they again stood before him, awaiting the order to depart.
He nodded in satisfaction at the assembled group, then reached out to grasp Much and Tuck by their shoulders as he spoke to them. "Now remember, await our signal. Will, Little John and I will hence for Nottingham Castle as soon as we signal you." He turned to Scarlett and Little John. "Come my good fellows! Let's see who these blokes are...uh, I mean, 'ow many soldiers they 'ave with them."
The three men of Sherwood headed south parallel to the Forest Road and had not crept very far along when they heard the unmistakable noise of a column on the march. They crept closer and gasped in surprise. The vanguard had already passed and the Sheriff of Nottingham and Prince John were already in sight!
Little John murmured, "Aye, it looks as they have made their time well Robin."
He nodded and held his breath. If things played out with the Sheriff of Nottingham and Prince John the way they had for the King and the Merrie Men, he had a pretty good idea of who they might be. Scarlett punched him gently in the side and motioned towards the road.
"Robin, the Prince's party approacheth!" he whispered theatrically.
He turned to Scarlett, smirk firmly in place. Oh, he had to say something to that. "Approacheth Scarlett? Really?" he hissed.
Scarlett gave him yet another pitying look and shook his head, heartily wishing his master would soon recover his wits.
He waved his two men to keep back as he crept as close as he possibly could to try to confirm his adversaries' identities. Only one glance was necessary for him to immediately tell that the Sheriff of Nottingham was a short, dark fellow with a moustache and what appeared to be a permanent scowl plastered on his face. Oh bleedin' 'ell, I was right! Hochstetter is the Sheriff of Nottingham! Bloody Nora, that's all we need!
He crept just a bit closer within the cover of the dense brush lining the roadway as he looked to see who Prince John would prove to be. The Prince was quite a bit taller and befitting his royal position, rode a length ahead of the Sheriff. He rode rather awkwardly it seemed; to tell the truth, he appeared to be barely keeping himself in the saddle. There was no mistaking that bald-pated, hawkish visage and he dropped his face into his hand with a silent sigh. Blimey! Ol' Klink can't do anythin' well can 'e? Can't even ride a ruddy 'orse!
He beat a hasty retreat and gave Little John the go-ahead to signal Friar Tuck, Much and their men. The agreed-upon signal was, appropriately enough, the unmistakable call of the cuckoo, a common enough bird in Nottinghamshire. That done, he and his two men disappeared into the forest, their destination Nottingham Castle.
As Prince John and the Sheriff of Nottingham rode at the head of their column of wagons and soldiers clogging the Forest Road to York, the vanguard dispatched a messenger to the rear to report that a large group of what appeared to be churchmen were traveling on the road ahead of them. The Sheriff called the column to a halt and broke formation to follow the messenger where the advance guard held the suspect group.
"You are welcome to accompany us, Your Highness!" he gestured to Prince John to follow as he and two of his men rode ahead to confirm the messenger's report.
The Prince's face blanched at the thought and he immediately shrank back, nearly toppling out of the saddle as he did so. "No, no, you go ahead, I shall...I shall stay and look after the column if you do not mind."
"As you wish Your Highness," hissed Nottingham as he spurred his horse forward. Coward! he thought angrily.
The hoof beat of the horses sounded ever louder and Tuck glanced about anxiously. Much tugged at him to get his attention and whispered, "Play your part well and I promise I will make apple fritters for you upon our return to camp."
"Ooohhh, apple fritters..." salivated Tuck. "With honey?"
"Yes, yes! With honey!" Much gestured to the rapidly approaching riders and nudged Tuck to quietly remind him, "Remember our orders! Play the lickspigot for yon Sheriff whether ye like it or not! Remember, apple fritters soaked in honey await!"
Tuck nodded nervously as Nottingham pounded up to them. The Sheriff impatiently swooped down from the saddle and stalked over to glare angrily at the group.
"What are these men doing here?" he angrily growled through clenched teeth. "Answer me!"
Tuck came forward and bowed as low as his ample girth allowed. He stumbled and Much grabbed him to help him rise. "A moment...m'Lord..." He finally regained his feet and answered Nottingham. "I am but a curtal friar, m'Lord High Sheriff. My acolytes and I have taken a vow of poverty, and are on holy pilgrimage to York. Wouldst thou care to make an offering?"
"No I wouldst not!" snapped Nottingham. "Have you seen any outlaws on this road?"
"Outlaws, m'Lord?" stalled Tuck, trying his utmost to feign an air of shocked surprise.
"Yes, outlaws! Have you seen any outlaws on this road?" shouted Nottingham.
Tuck stared at Much confusedly, then turned to Nottingham with a blank expression. "M'Lord, I see nothing! I know nothing! We have not been accosted by nor seen any outlaws!"
Much stepped forward and bowed low. "My good brother speaks truly, m'Lord. We have seen no outlaws during our journey. God has been good to us."
"Then you will clear this road at once, do you hear me?" screamed Nottingham. "We are on royal business!"
Tuck drew himself up to his full height, presenting a veritable tableau of righteous indignation. "Holy pilgrimage may not be molested upon pain of eternal torment! Dost thou desirest to go to Hell, m'Lord?"
Nottingham's face turned crimson with anger. "Bah! I have not the time for your foolishness!" he shouted. He gestured petulantly to his guards, "You men! Go, bring Prince John to me and do not return without him! Order the rest to make best haste to Nottingham!" He virtually pounced on the captain of the vanguard. "You! You and your men are to accompany me! We ride ahead for Nottingham Castle!"