An Object Lesson
By JeanTre16
Chapter Three
Un-laden Swallow
It was still early in Nottingham Town and the merchants were at full hilt for the day. Copper kettles, cabbages and the like all sat neatly displayed for sale. While money exchanged hands, a small crowd was spared from the bartering for an announcement to be made in the castle courtyard. Milling among these idle gossipers were two hooded individuals. The taller of the duo stopped to lend an ear to two women engaged in conversation.
"They say the sheriff's a promise to make," the first woman speculated to her companion.
"Not more taxes, I hope," the other responded, sounding worn out and worried.
"Are you looking for Marian?" the unmistakable voice of Much interrupted the cloaked man from his listening. "I doubt she'd be here at the castle after escaping the clutches of Gisborne," he spewed his unasked for opinion.
"No. I'm not looking for Marian," was the short reply over the taller man's shoulder. As if drawn by a curiosity, his focus moved away from the women and meandered closer to the rise of steps leading to the castle.
The shorter man followed. "When I heard you say you were going to talk with someone who knew – "
"Much!" Robin turned and lifted his hood just enough to reveal his face to the man behind him. "I would appreciate it if you would keep your eyes and ears open instead of drilling me on the whereabouts of Marian." Robin chewed his lip as if holding back his irritation. "Besides, I never said I was going to see her."
"But you said we were going to see someone who could tell us what this Hood Tax was all about," his friend pressed for an explanation.
Robin had no time to answer. The unmistakable voice of Guy boomed throughout the courtyard, warranting everyone's attention. "The Sheriff of Nottingham," he heralded the man in question as if on cue to Much's interrogation.
The corners of Robin's mouth curved upward as he raised a brow at his friend. "Satisfied you have your answer?"
"Oh," Much replied, grasping that the sheriff, and not Marian, was the object of their visit. He crossed his arms, slightly disgruntled. "Well, I don't see why you feel the need to keep these things a secret from me all the time," he mumbled his complaint and took his place at his former master's side.
Robin's amused grin faded as the emerging, nearly bald-headed man claimed his full study.
"Loyal subjects of Nottingham," Vaizey roared with outstretched arms and a pompous smile just as wide. "Today I bring you good news – " He left his words hanging long enough to permit the excited murmurs of the crowd to die down " – and some bad news," he finished and dropped his hands on the regretful note. "Which would you like to hear first, huh?" he taunted, ignoring the moans.
Much leaned nearer to Robin and whispered, "I think he's enjoying this a little too much for me to believe he has anything good to say."
Robin heard, but did not respond. He kept his scrutinizing gaze on the sheriff.
When no one responded with a choice, the sheriff clapped his hands and energetically filled in the silence. "Bad news. All right, the bad news is that our noble King's tax money has suffered at the hands of thieves."
Once again the people groaned.
Vaizey raised his hands to silence them. "I know, I know. You've all been heavy laden with the additional collection of funds to cover both His Majesty's requests and the loss incurred by Robin Hood, who insists on taking your hard earned money. Rest assured, those who pilfer the King's funds will not go unpunished." His last words ended bitterly.
Much scoffed, "Pilfering. He speaks of himself."
"But the people think it's us," Robin corrected, still keeping his attention towards the figure at the top of the stairs.
"Despicable man," Much sneered, snubbing his nose.
The sheriff continued, "And now for the good news. In keeping with my compassionate spirit for all you hardworking people, I acknowledge your grief with Hood. I feel your anger. The goodness of my heart desires to compensate you from my own resources. Therefore, I, Sheriff of Nottingham, invite you all to a free supper on me. Tomorrow, here in the courtyard, the castle kitchens will serve you from my personal bounty."
To that, the people responded in delight.
"His bounty?!" Much exclaimed doubtfully. "I can't believe that."
"No, but the people do," Robin noted, watching the happy faces flock about the sheriff as he descended the steps to take an unprecedented walk in the streets. He shook his head and swallowed hard. Then, without pronouncement, he took off down an alternate street as the crowd followed the sheriff.
"Hey, where are you going?" Much asked. "The sheriff's going – " he stopped his complaint mid-sentence, mouth agape, realizing that he stood alone " – that way," he finished to himself, pointing opposite of the direction that Robin took. Adjusting his hood snugly over his head, he dropped his altercation and scurried to keep up.
ooOOoo
Sheriff Vaizey paraded through the streets of Nottingham Town in the company of Sir Guy and an intimidating squad of guards. "My intent, Gisborne," he conversed as they walked, "is to gain the people's admiration and trust." The man of note diverted his attention to some wary cart merchants, acknowledging them with a flamboyant smile and waving gesture.
The people returned his smile weakly and quickly returned to their business of selling, or at least the appearance of it.
Guy followed at the sheriff's side, taking note of the hushed crowds that grew lifeless at the sight of them. Not pleased with what he saw, his face betrayed a less than optimistic opinion. "And how will you do that?" he asked.
"Watch and learn," the sheriff spoke in Gisborne's direction. With a quick bob on the balls of his feet, he took off as if on a mission. He walked over to a small boy and stopped to pat him on the head. Like a wolf in sheep's clothing, he addressed the lad's alarmed mother, "You have nothing to fear, my good woman. I'm sure you pay your taxes, keep out of trouble and raise your loyal … brood." He settled on his last word with the downturn of his eyes to the scrawny subject under his hand. The patronizing sheriff lifted his hand uncomfortably from the waif's head and wiped the imagined vileness off into his cloak.
"Yes, well, all of you," he blared, redirecting his attention to everyone within earshot. Donning his fictitious grin again, he coated his speech with sugary theatrics. "Be sure to come to the castle tomorrow for a free meal on the Good Sheriff of Nottingham. And please, bring your little ones," he said, gesturing once more to the child.
ooOOoo
Robin and Much crouched in a darkened shop corner – one of the few places in Nottingham presently unencumbered by human beings. After the sheriff's departure for a tour of the town, the two had sneaked through the back streets and into a vacant vegetable storehouse. And there they sat, at Robin's insistence that he had a plan. The only problem was that Much had no clue what that plan was, and he was growing impatient.
"All this waiting around, doing nothing. There must be something we could do, rather than sit here among these smelly, rotten vegetables," Much complained, scrunching his nose and eyeing their surroundings.
Keeping his senses aloof for possible discovery, Robin remained unmoved by his anxious companion. "All right," Robin said, pursing his lips contemplatively, "something to do." His brow went up with inspiration. "Tell me: What is the air speed of an un-laden Swallow?"
Much frowned. "Swallow? You mean as in a bird?"
"A bird," Robin confirmed flatly.
"Well, let me see … un-laden?" he asked, beginning to turn the problem over in his head.
"Unladen," Robin echoed his confirmation.
The pondering man scratched his head and sighed sharply in defeat. "I'm sorry, master, but, what does a Swallow even remotely have to do with the here and now?"
Robin grinned at his by now completely lost companion. "My point," he began and stifled a snicker. "If speed were needed, a Swift would be swifter," he finished, placing a firm hand on the puzzled man's shoulder.
Still mixed up on what the whole exercise meant, Much tried to make sense of it. "Ah, so what you're saying is that we're not in a rush."
Robin bent over and put a hand to his mouth to stifle his laughter.
Seeing that he had been the brunt of another of Robin's jokes, Much defended himself smugly, "That's not funny." In afterthought, his eyes shifted momentarily. "But I still don't get the whole thing about the bird."
"Shh – " Robin's amusement faded as he peeked around the corner " – someone's here."
Unable to tell who it was in the darkened room, Robin motioned for his friend to go around to the front of the storehouse while he took the back. The tall man held his bow forward and reached for an arrow. Slipping it into his bow, he pulled back firmly on the string …
"Robin!" a startled woman's voice broke the silence.
"Marian!" Robin exclaimed tensely, quickly releasing the tension in his bowstring.
"You frightened me," she said with her hand to her chest.
"Me, frighten you? You could have gotten hurt. What are you doing here?" he argued.
A reserved look swept over her face. "Aren't you happy to see me?" she answered smugly with another question.
Robin's countenance lightened. "Of course, I'm happy to see you," he answered, her antics working to raise a smile from him. "It's just that you're much safer at home, instead a sneaking around in vegetable storehouses." He stepped forward with a sparkle in his eyes and cupped the back of her head with his palm.
She grasped his arm with her hand and ran her fingers along the length of it. "Home. Sitting around doing nothing, while the whole of Nottingham starves under the sheriff's taxes," she answered bitterly.
"Surely your father isn't aware of your ventures," he changed the subject.
"My father would have me sit at home until he was sure I would waste away before permitting me to venture out again," she exasperated.
"He almost lost you," Robin reminded her of her near-death experience.
The memory served to soften her stubbornness and she drew closer to Robin's embrace. "True, but I will not let that keep me from what my heart tells me I should do."
"And what does your heart say?" he asked, smiling and welcoming her into his arms.
"It says it wants to help," she answered softly, her eyes looking up to meet his.
"Ahem," Much cleared his throat, interrupting Marian and Robin, causing them to break apart from one another's affectionate hold. "Uh, I hate to break you two love birds up, but, the sheriff's coming this way," he informed, motioning towards the front of the storehouse.
ooOOoo
Leaving the tot and his parent behind, the sheriff continued his procession through the streets, wooing the people with his offer of a free lunch. Pleased with his success, he boasted, "You see, Gisborne, they love me."
While talking, the man of the day led his group of dark-clad men around the corner of a tightly packed side street. What was a bearable following suddenly verged on an unmanageable throng. People were pressing in on the villainous-turned-valiant town's leader, all with happy faces and outstretched arms.
God bless you and long live our sheriff, was being hailed from his peasant fans.
"Perhaps we should head back to the castle," the master-of-arms suggested, pressing back a number of beggars with outstretched palms.
The sheriff looked to be considering the idea when an offer was made from a shop window. "Would ya be interested in buyin' some cabbages for that feast of yours?" a woman's voice rose over the crowd.
"The sheriff would not be – " Gisborne barked back harshly, on the defense.
"La-di-da-di-da. The sheriff would be," his superior overruled him mockingly. "Anything to get out of this mob," he said under his breath. Before Guy could offer complaint, the sheriff raised his palm to dispel his master-of-arms. "Gisborne, you need to learn patience – " the corners of his mouth flitted upward. " – how to turn events in our favor." With his hand still upward, he pointed at the crowd, "You get this under control while I appease this jolly cabbage woman." He ended his speech with the redirection of his finger towards the sanctuary of the shop, signaling where he was headed.
"Do you think it's a good idea for you to go unattended?" Gisborne protested.
"When I need you to dote over me, I'll send for you," Vaizey snapped his answer as he squirmed by his men and left the bustle of the street.
Gisborne stiffened, but held himself and the people at bay. All he could do was adhere to his boss's order.
Inside the darkened cabbage shop, the sheriff straightened his robe and brushed it off. "Ah, much better," he aired his relief. He picked up a cabbage and toyingly looked it over. "How many of these will I need to feed a town?" he asked smartly.
There was no answer.
Looking for the woman, he moved further into the structure, squinting to allow his eyes to adjust to the dimness. "Cabbage woman?" he asked again. Distracted by a pile of freshly peeled onions, he snatched one up and bit into it. Crunching down into the bulb, the sharp aroma immediately made him choke and his eyes tear. His face distorted and he quickly returned the half-eaten onion back to the stack.
Hearing a low, familiar laugh, he abruptly looked up to see that there was no woman with him in the shop. Instead, through watery eyes, he saw a tall man in brown with a bow leaning against the back doorframe with a smirk on his face. "Robin Hood," the sheriff gasped. "Why does it not surprise me to find you here with these … vegetables?" he gagged and turned for the door.
A smug looking Much barred the sheriff's exit with his arms crossed, unwilling to budge.
A gagging Vaizey turned to face Robin again. "What do you want, Hood?" he snarled, still trying to overcome the effect of the onion.
"Want? Now that's an interesting word considering you're the one doing the shopping." Robin's grin grew wider, thinking the whole scene rather funny.
"Well, I'm done now," the sheriff answered and tried to leave again.
Much held his ground and Robin continued to snicker.
Sputtering, the sheriff faced Robin and choked out, "Go ahead, laugh. We'll see who gets the last laugh this time." Vaizey wiped his mouth in his sleeve and informed in an even tone, "You have one minute to state what you want before I call for the guard."
"One minute," Robin smiled and looked down briefly to condense his thoughts. Lifting his head again he spoke quietly and quickly, "I'd like to ask you what this tax is that you're asking the people to pay."
"You should know. You're the one taking a percentage of it," Vaizey sneered.
"That's not funny."
"No, it isn't." The sheriff's humor drew flat.
"Is the fact that your last collection was a bit short, have something to do with this?" Robin asked more directly.
"This marriage of ours is getting old, Hood," the sheriff chided. "Call it alimony." He continued, "Every breech of endearment has its price, Hood. I will turn the people away from you by making them hurt. Then, by giving them relief in the name of the loving Sheriff of Nottingham, they will find their loyalties undivided. I'm doing them a favor, really."
Robin's head tilted to the side as he speculated. "So you plan to help the people take sides, by making them not like me."
"Robin, you and I both know that you must have the people love you, not like you. I will see to it that they love me instead. Listen to them outside. I'm stealing your loving supporters," he smirked.
An interlude in conversation confirmed the sheriff's threat. Indeed, the people outside in the streets sounded to be rallying to the sheriff's side.
"I'm sorry, Robin, but you must decrease now, before you become too much of a legend in the people's loving hearts." He dramatically clutched his hand to his chest and looked at Robin with longing puppy-dog eyes.
"I've already made an impact on the people," Robin rebuffed.
"Have you?" The sheriff dropped his mockery. "Let's do a re-cap, shall we? You've taught them that you shirk responsibilities – leaving your poor estate to be run by others was a dire mistake. And you've taught them that the silly noble's war you ran off to fight cost money!" he made the emphasis coldly.
With each mention, Robin rolled his eyes.
"Have I missed anything? Oh, oh, yes. And you've taught them not to mess with another man's fiancée. That delicious part is fluff, but the romantics will find it irresistibly juicy," he taunted.
His animation dropped and he looked at Robin, who stared back at him, un-amused. "The point is, Robin, that I will make sure all your sacrifices come to nothing. Nothing! Are you listening? Your loyal followers will be used to strengthen my position – an object lesson." The sheriff reflectively taunted in a sing-song rhyme, "Object lesson: lessen the object and the objection lessens." He laughed at his clever play on words and stiffened his resolve. "Good-bye, Robin Hood. You should be happy to know that you've died in the service of your King."
"Are you threatening me?" Robin became sour.
"Oh, I am sorry, your minute is up," Vaizey rasped. He pushed Much out of his way and yelled out the door, "Guards!"
Robin clicked his tongue and bound out the back of the building with his fellow outlaw. Escaping down a tight run between buildings, he captured a glimpse of Marian on an adjacent street. He paused to smile and blow her a kiss.
Her face lit up at his gesture. But as she watched him turn and scale a wall, she quickly forced her feelings under check. Pulling her hood over her head, she too disappeared among the busy merchants' carts.
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Author's Note: Sorry for the delay in posting. Hopefully, the fact that chapter 3 is twice as long as the previous chapters may please you. Also, do you know the "correct" answer to the question Robin posed to Much? Enjoy!