Chapter 7 – Sheriffs and Princes and Kings, Oh My!
"That's jus' bloody marvelous! 'ow did Nottingham get 'ere so quickly?" he gasped.
"He must have somehow confounded Tuck's men," shrugged Little John.
"Let's 'ope 'e didn't bring the entire army with 'im!" He turned to go back and Little John grabbed his arm.
"Robin? We must go quickly!" His master shook his head.
"It sounds like it may be just Nottingham and one other. I 'ave to go back and take care of 'im so 'e can't raise the alarm." He removed Little John's hand from his arm and took his man by the shoulders. "Listen mate, I want you to go 'elp Will wi' the King. That staircase ain't gonna be easy and we don't need to 'urt the King any more than 'e already is."
"But, Robin…."
"No, mate. Go on! I'll be right behind ya as soon as I take care of Nottingham." He looked Little John directly in the eye and spoke firmly. "That's an order, Little John. We 'ave to make sure the King gets away safely! I trust Will but 'e'll need you along as well. Now go – please!"
Little John sighed as he relented. "Very well Robin. Do not tarry!"
"Who me mate? Would never cross me mind!" He flashed his second in command a cheeky grin then disappeared round the corner. He popped back to point at the far corridor. "I told ya to go, now go!"
He waited until Little John finally turned to leave before he slipped back around the corner to see exactly who was approaching. The Sheriff was speaking to someone else, he couldn't tell who.
"I limit the number of sentries who guard the cell to two and have but a single squad on patrol. I do not wish to draw undue attention to our prisoner."
"Efficient as usual, Nottingham! I always say that the Sheriff of Nottingham is very efficient!"
"Yes, Your Highness," Nottingham growled in irritation. "As I was saying, neither do the guards have a key. We must always be prepared for traitors!"
"Traitors, yes, yes. Good thinking Sheriff!"
Aha! he thought to himself. So that nervous, babbling voice belonged to Prince John! He chuckled a bit at Nottingham's precautions, as they had all obviously been for naught. Thanks to a loose-lipped guard, he and his men had been able to locate the King with no difficulty at all! The voices approached ever closer and he decided he'd better reveal himself before they discovered that the King had been released.
"Ya just never know when yer gonna meet a traitor, eh Nottingham?" he declared as he stepped out from the shadows. He still had the broadsword seized in the earlier fight and he brandished it menacingly as he spoke.
Nottingham's face curled into an expression of absolute and complete disgust. "You! How did you get here?" He looked around in apparent shock. "Where are the guards?"
"That's for me to know and you to find out Sheriff!" He moved cautiously towards the two men. "Throw yer weapons onto the floor and step back. Now!"
Prince John immediately unbuckled his baldric and tossed it on the floor. "It's ceremonial only….I really don't know how to use it…," he stammered.
Nottingham turned to the Prince and hissed, "Quiet Your High-ness!" He turned back to address the man who blocked the way to the King's cell. "Unlike Prince John, I will not surrender my sword to an outlaw!"
"No?" his opponent lazily replied. "Cor, I'll jus' 'ave to take it from you then, won't I?"
The Prince cowered fearfully against the wall as the two men began to warily circle each other, swords out and at the ready. Nottingham shouted at him, "What are you doing? Go, summon the guard!"
His opponent called, "I'd not do that if I were you, Your 'ighness."
The Prince nodded nervously, "I think I shall take the outlaw's advice if you don't mind Nottingham!"
"Bah!" shouted Nottingham loudly as he made the first thrust. His opponent easily parried and thrust back, then feinted to draw a furious reaction from the Sheriff. "You will yield to me!" shouted Nottingham angrily. He made a series of vicious thrusts, all adeptly parried by his opponent.
"'ad enough Nottingham?" taunted the outlaw.
"Never!" snarled the Sheriff. He threw an unexpectedly strong body blow that knocked his opponent against the wall where he stumbled, momentarily stunned. Nottingham seized his advantage to crush the outlaw into the wall again, laughing as his opponent sharply struck the back of his head against the stone wall. He fell to one knee, barely parrying the Sheriff's sword whilst desperately trying to recover his balance.
"Who has the upper hand now, outlaw?" sneered Nottingham.
Even though the throbbing pain in his head was proving an unwanted distraction, he fought to keep his mind focused on his mission. Each minute he delayed Nottingham was another minute of safety for the King, Will and Little John. He suddenly dropped and rolled on the floor to shakily come to his feet behind Nottingham. Out of force of habit, he reached back beneath his shirt between his shoulder blades. Bloody 'ell where's me pencil sharpener when I need it?
Nottingham cursed and quickly turned. "Stand fast traitor!"
The slur galvanized him and he stood a bit taller as he replied, "Traitor? Yon kettle there calls me traitor? Who is a traitor but the man who imprisons and schemes against the rightful King?"
"That is none of your concern, wolf's head!"
"Wolf's 'ead! D'ya 'ear that Prince John? 'e imprisons yer own brother and 'e's callin' me a wolf's 'ead?"
The Prince didn't rise to the bait and Nottingham whirled upon his opponent to scream in fury, "You…will…yield…!" As the Sheriff rushed forward in a blind rage, his opponent sidestepped him and managed to extend his leg directly in his path. Nottingham went down hard onto the floor, striking his head on the flagstone.
A few moments passed before Prince John cried out, "Outlaw, you have slain the Sheriff! Mercy! I beg mercy, kind outlaw!" The man actually got onto his knees and groveled pathetically.
He didn't reply for a long few minutes as he sought to regain his strength. The unrelenting pain in his head was blurring his vision, yet he kept a close eye on the Sheriff as he lay unmoving on the floor. He picked up Nottingham's sword then gestured to Prince John, "Rise Your 'ighness. Yon Sheriff is not dead. Lay hold of 'im and follow me." The Prince did as he was told and followed the outlaw to the cell that once held the King, all the while fearfully staring at the unconscious soldiers strewn about the corridor. "Drag 'im into the cell and stay there yourself."
"Yes, yes, whatever you say. Just please spare me! Please!" The Prince looked around as if just now discovering that Richard was nowhere to be seen. "Where…where is Richard?"
The outlaw smiled as he answered, "In safe 'ands Your 'ighness. Out of the Sheriff of Nottingham's reach." He then slammed the cell door shut and clicked the padlock securely in place. "Now, I expect that there will be no shouting for aid Your 'ighness. The walls 'ave ears and my men shall come to take their revenge on you when you least expect it."
The Prince nodded, his entire body quivering with fear as the outlaw made his escape.
Little John had reluctantly gone his way in accord with his master's orders and he found Scarlett at the top of the stairway leading down to the chamber containing the tunnel entrance. He was kneeling beside the King, who was sitting on the floor with his back against the wall, his eyes closed. "Will! What is wrong?"
"King Richard needed to rest. Thank God you're here Little John! I will need you in order to get the King safely down yon stairway." He looked back over his shoulder. "Where...where is Robin?"
"He went back to face Nottingham."
"What? Alone?"
Little John nodded, "Aye. He ordered me to assist you with the King."
Scarlett looked back again, then at the King, who was obviously not able to make his way down the staircase without their assistance. He gestured to Little John as he spoke to Richard. "Sire, we must make haste. Let us lift you up."
The two men of Sherwood slowly eased their sovereign to his feet. They then carefully and laboriously made their way down the steep staircase, worried both for their King and their master.
Traversing the tunnel proved extremely slow going as they kept a firm, careful grip on King Richard. Scarlett and Little John sighed in relief as the faint light of the outside opening finally became visible. They climbed out and quickly made for the cover of the greenwood.
Scarlett suddenly stopped and shielded the King with his body. "Little John, what is yon noise?" he whispered. There was a definite rustling sound like someone moving steadily through the undergrowth.
They looked up, greatly relieved to see Much and Tuck approach. Little John hailed them, "Much! Tuck! Quickly! Thank heaven you are here! Assist us with the King."
Much and Friar Tuck gathered close to help Will and Little John support their exhausted, shaky King. Much grabbed Little John's arm, "Where is Robin?"
Little John staggered a bit as he shifted King Richard within his grip and shook his head. "He told us to get the King out whilst he fought the Sheriff! He bade us not to wait for him. Robin entrusted the King into our hands and we must get him to Sherwood." He called to Tuck, "Friar Tuck! I charge you to ensure that Will and Much get the King to safety in Sherwood. I will stay and await Robin. Now go, all of you!"
They left, albeit reluctantly, their concern for their sovereign overriding their equal concern for their master. They knew that Robin was in good hands, as Little John would sooner cut off his own arm than abandon his master.
Little John paced nervously for some time, honoring his promise to obey his master's order. He grew increasingly anxious as various scenarios played themselves out in his mind. Robin tarries far too long. He finally decided to dart back into the tunnel to see what had become of his master and very nearly collided head-on with him as he stumbled along the dark interior.
"Little John…," he gasped. "Am I glad to see ya mate!" He fell into Little John's arms and looked about. "What...about the King?"
"Safely on his way to Sherwood. Art thou all right Robin?"
He nodded whilst he tried to get his breath back. "Just…a bit knackered. Quite the…fight back there…I took a clout to the 'ead…me vision's off kilter."
"Come Robin, lean upon me." His dazed master complied and Little John swept him along as he quickly made his way down the tunnel towards the exit. "We are nearly there."
As soon as they exited the tunnel out into the open, they heard the loud cry "Ready your bows! Nock! Mark! Draw!" sounding above their heads. Someone had apparently raised the alarm, for the garrison's bowmen had marshaled atop the bailey wall heedless of the cover given by the dense woods below, as well as the quickly encroaching dusk.
"Robin, let us make haste!" Little John tried to rush his exhausted master along as quickly as he could but the bowmen loosed their flight before the two men of Sherwood could get out of range. One lucky archer blindly found his mark as Little John heard his master give a stifled cry of pain.
"What the…? Bloody 'ell, that 'urts…!" He reached down to try to see what had caused him such blinding pain but passed out instead. Little John caught his master as he collapsed, gathered him in his arms and dashed into the forest.