The Lost Ballad of Sherwood Forest - Chapter 6 of 7
6 Blowing with the Winds of Time
After Noah finished relaying Robin's message, Luke frowned and unexpectedly said, "I think I should go back to the forest."
"You want to leave?" Noah could not keep the disappointment out of his voice.
"It's not that I want to, but I think I should. The Luke Snyder of this century is one of the Merry Men. It's not for me to change the course of his life. And I've been thinking about what we have to do to get home. Most likely, 14th century Luke got himself on the King's Honors list when he was a member of Robin's band. If I'm to reproduce history, I need to live his life. To do that, I have to go back to the camp in Sherwood Forest."
"That makes sense," Noah said after some consideration. "But I'm really going to miss you."
"I'll miss you too." Luke hugged Noah tight and kissed him. "Even more than I'll miss this bed, and that's saying something. But we'll still see each other when you're in Edwinstowe."
"And if you're there, I'll start sleeping at the post again rather than riding back to town everyday."
"See? We'll still get to see each other as much as we do now," Luke said, sounding more hopeful than enthusiastic. "You're going to Edwinstowe tomorrow, right? You can give me a ride and save me the walk. And I'll go to the post in the evening when you're done with work."
"I can give you a ride, but I have to come back here tomorrow afternoon. And I'll also be here the day after."
"But why? Tomorrow's a Tuesday and you usually work in Edwinstowe from Monday to Wednesday."
Noah shrugged as he explained, "The Archdeacon has called for a meeting of all the Sheriff's constables tomorrow afternoon. He has an assignment for us on Wednesday and he wants to brief us on the details."
"An assignment? What kind of assignment?"
"I don't really know yet. From what I've gathered, he's moving some personal property from Nottingham Abbey to his house. We're supposed to provide security escort or something."
"He's moving personal property and he's using the Sheriff's men?" Luke was huffing with indignation. "He can't just disrupt the Sheriff's office like that. This has to constitute abuse of power!"
"Maybe so, but the Sheriff was appointed at the Archdeacon's behest. We have to do what he says."
"I do understand, Noah. But I'm mad at him. Thanks to him, after tomorrow morning, I don't get to see you till Saturday. I guess I could put off returning to Sherwood till next week." Luke considered the thought and then shook his head. "But I shouldn't delay it and change history even more that I already have. I have this feeling that I need to be with Robin's men to do the thing that will get us home. I just wish we knew for sure what we have to do, and when we'll be doing it."
Noah went to the window and looked out at the backyard and the forest in the distance. The days were shorter now and the sun was beginning to set in the horizon. Soon, the trees would begin shedding their leaves.
"It's the end of summer," he said. "The Sheriff says that the King usually comes to Nottingham before the Feast of the Archangels. That's only two weeks away."
Luke threw his hands up in the air in a gesture of agitation. "I hate to sound paranoid, but what if he decides not to come to Nottingham this year? He doesn't come every single year, right?"
"Most years, but not every single one," Noah conceded.
"I'd feel a lot better if we had some confirmation that King Edward the Third spent the autumn of 1360 in Nottingham, and not in London or France or wherever."
"I'm sorry, but I'm not really up on medieval British history."
"If only we could look it up," Luke sighed. "You know, apart from family and friends, what I really miss from the 21st century is Google. And Wikipedia. Actually, the whole of the Internet. I think I might even miss spam email. And those annoying ads for penile enhancement."
Noah smiled, glad that Luke was not dwelling on his paranoia. "I miss spearmint toothpaste and the smell of coffee," he offered.
"God, yes!" Luke groaned. "And chocolate and peanut butter."
"Pastrami and hot dogs. And Chinese take-out."
"I'd give my right arm for a spring roll. Or a big messy cheese burger," Luke said with a blissful expression on his face. Then he laughed and added, "We sound like those starving contestants on Survivor. Come to think of it, my first couple of months here was a little like being on Survivor. I had to make fire using flint and hunt for food."
"And sleep outdoors and build your own shelter," Noah reminded him with a smile.
Noah sat back down on the bed and Luke moved closer till their shoulders were touching.
"Thank you, Noah," Luke said softly.
"For what?"
"For everything, Like putting up with my whining about sleeping outdoors and the lack of modern sanitation. Just... for being here. I'd have gone crazy without you."
"The same goes for me, you know." Noah took Luke's hand into his, squeezing it before he kissed it.
"It'd be a stretch to say that I'm glad we're stranded here in the year 1360," Luke said, lowering his head and resting it on Noah's shoulder. "But if this is what it took, if we had to come all the way to the past to find each other and to be together, then I'm glad we're here in the 14th century."
"Yeah, so am I," Noah agreed. He bent his head to kiss Luke on the cheek.
***
When Luke returned to Sherwood Forest, Marian was with Robin and the Merry Men. They were gathered under the Major Oak and engaging in a lively discussion. Many of them wore frowns on their faces.
"The prodigal son returns," he jovially announced his arrival.
"Luke! You're back!" went up a chorus of voices.
Luke was welcomed back to the fold with great warmth, especially by Marian and Little John. He was thumped on the back so many times that his skin began to sting. From Robin, he received a small but genuine smile, and a meaningful nod. It was enough for him; he knew they had buried the hatchet.
"What were you talking about before I interrupted you?" he asked after the excitement subsided.
"It's the Archdeacon," Marian said angrily. "In the New Year, he asked for a special tithe to be collected from the people of Nottinghamshire. It was intended for the building of two new churches to serve the villagers. Today, we're informed that the plan is withdrawn but the tithes will not be returned."
"What reason did he give?"
Little John scoffed as he explained, "He said that suitable land could not be found for construction. The soil in the intended sites is apparently too soft. It's all a bunch of rot, of course. He collected the tithes to swell his own coffers."
"The villagers have been shamelessly cheated by the Archdeacon. We're determined to restore their money to them," Robin Hood said. "But first, we must learn where the tithes are kept."
"I know where the money is!" Luke exclaimed, realization striking as he remembered his conversation with Noah the previous day. "It's presently at Nottingham Abbey, but tomorrow it will be transported to the Archdeacon's house in town. He's ordered the Sheriff's men to guard its journey."
"The deceitful scoundrel!" Little John pounded his fist against the tree trunk. "And he calls himself a man of God!"
"I've known all along that he wears the Church's robes to disguise his greed. This is simply further proof of that," Robin said bitterly. The other men began mumbling their agreement, cursing the Archdeacon with a few choice epithets.
Predictably enough, it was Marian who was not distracted from the matter at hand. "But you may have brought us good news, Luke," she said. "It's well nigh impossible to break into the vaults of the Abbey, and equally as difficult to gain entry to the Archdeacon's house. But when the money is being transported, it's out in the open. That's our opportunity to remove it from the Archdeacon's grasp."
"How will we do it?" the men asked at once, looking to Marian as if she had all the answers.
"I have a plan," she said with a smile.
Luke felt a rush of excitement. An adventure was afoot.
***
The journey from Nottingham Abbey to the Archdeacon's house was progressing very slowly. Although the Archdeacon had declined to reveal the contents of the wagon being closely guarded by the Sheriff's men, Noah guessed that it must be something of great value. It was important enough that the Archdeacon himself was accompanying the wagon, riding in front like the leader of a procession, with the Sheriff behind him. Because he was a man of generous girth, his horse could move at little more than a slow canter.
When they approached the center of Nottingham Town, a large crowd gathered around them. It was a market day and there were many people about. They were no doubt curious about this unlikely cavalcade headed by the Archdeacon and the Sheriff's constabulary forming a phalanx around an innocuous looking wagon.
Suddenly, arrows fell from the sky and struck a few of the bystanders. They fell to the ground, several of them right into the path of the Archdeacon's horse. Noah immediately looked around to detect the source of the attack. He saw archers up on the rooftops of the taller houses in the town.
"They're on the roofs," he shouted to the constables. "Spread yourselves to intercept the arrows!"
"No!" the Archdeacon ordered in a thunderous voice. "You cannot abandon the wagon."
"There's no time to waste," the Sheriff spoke up. "Go! Do as Noah says."
As the men rode off in all directions towards the tall houses, the Archdeacon maneuvered his hose to block Noah's progress.
"You dare to defy me, Deputy?"
"We have to protect the townsfolk," Noah insisted. "They are our priority. If we don't stop the archers, innocent people may die. You see with your own eyes that several have already been struck."
He waved at the bodies laying on the ground to prove his point. To his amazement, the stricken bystanders suddenly leaped to their feet and pounced at the wagon. In a flash, two of the men wrestled the wagon driver off his perch and took control of the reins. Then they were riding away, galloping at great speed. Obligingly, the crowd dispersed to allow their escape.
"Go after them, Deputy!" the Archdeacon screamed. "Get that wagon back here!"
Noah set off in pursuit but he knew it was a lost cause. Whatever her merits, Salamander was not the swiftest of horses. It also did not help that the crowd of people were slow to move out of his way. He rode back to the scene of the theft and found the place still in an uproar. The other constables were there but had made no arrests.
"The archers were gone before we were halfway there," James Renshaw explained. "It appears they shot only that first round of arrows and immediately made their escape thereafter."
"It was part of the ploy to make away with the wagon," the Archdeacon snapped. He was red-faced with rage. "It must be that bandit Robin Hood. Sheriff, send your men to Sherwood Forest and have him arrested at once!"
The Sheriff shook his head. "We have no proof that he did this."
"Here's your proof!" a voice called out from the middle of the crowd.
Noah turned and saw the forester Henry Packard making his way towards them. He was dragging someone with him.
"Your Grace, I saw him pretending to be struck by an arrow," Packard said, addressing the Archdeacon. "He couldn't get on the wagon because there were too many people around him. He tried to lose himself in the crowd but I kept my eye on him. You'll see that he has a broken arrow piercing his smock but not breaking skin. He's part of the gang that carried out this daylight robbery of your property."
Packard hauled his captive to the front of the crowd. The man was dressed like an ordinary townsman and most of his face was hidden by a cap pulled low over his eyes. A lock of golden hair was peeking out below his ear. Noah's heart began pounding with dread.
Packard pulled off the cap and Luke's face was revealed.
***
They were in the main hall of the Sheriff's house, holding a hearing just minutes after Luke was taken into custody. It was a public hearing and the large space was packed with townsfolk. Noah stood silently and helplessly to one side. He could say nothing without causing prejudice to the case; it was known to almost everyone there that Luke was his friend.
Before the hearing commenced, the Archdeacon announced officiously, "I will ask the questions today. Sheriff, you must acknowledge that you cannot be a disinterested observer in this situation. Luke Snyder has been living in your house and by all accounts, your family is very fond of him."
The Sheriff nodded and said, "That is so, Your Grace."
"Very well, let us begin. You disappoint me, Luke Snyder," the Archdeacon said. "We've dined together under this very roof, and you've been a guest in my house. My brother appears quite taken with you. And yet you've betrayed us in such a manner. Have you anything to say for yourself?"
Luke's hands were bound behind his back but he stood straight and proud. He looked directly into the Archdeacon's face and answered, "I've done nothing that weighs upon my conscience."
"You're stubborn, Luke Snyder. Fortunately for you, I'm inclined to be charitable today. I'll offer you your freedom, in exchange for a piece of information. Your hands will be unbound and you may walk away from here with no repercussions, if you answer this next question correctly."
"What is the question?"
"Was Robin Hood the one who planned today's robbery?"
Luke tilted up his chin and said, "No, Robin Hood had nothing to do with the plan."
"Damn you!" the Archdeacon cried, outraged by Luke's defiance. "You still protect him, while the noose tightens around your neck!"
"I'm not protecting anyone. I merely answered your question."
The Archdeacon slammed his hand against a table top. "I'll not tolerate such insolence. I'm the King's vassal and when you stole from me, you stole from His Majesty. That is treason and the punishment for treason is death by hanging. Sheriff, that is the sentence and I request that you carry it out immediately. This traitor shall not live to see sundown tomorrow."
"No!" Noah shouted and he was not the only one doing it. Cries of shock and outrage rang out from the gathered crowd.
The Archdeacon ignored the protests and continued, "Sheriff, have your men prepare the hanging block tomorrow morning. Let us finish this quickly. I have no wish to tarry over something so distasteful."
"I apologize, Your Grace. I cannot do it," the Sheriff said. "On this matter, I refuse to do your bidding."
"You refuse?" the Archdeacon repeated incredulously. "Sheriff, you're in no position to refuse."
"My refusal stands nonetheless," said the Sheriff.
The Archdeacon glowered darkly and in his anger, his eyes seemed to be glowing red. In that moment, Noah was convinced that he was possessed by evil forces.
"Then you're removed from the office of Sheriff," the Archdeacon said coldly. His eyes roved around the room and settled on Noah. "Deputy Mayer, come forward. From this moment hence, you're the Sheriff of Nottingham. Take this thief to the cellar. And prepare the hanging block for tomorrow."
The room was spinning around Noah, such was his shock at this development. He stammered, "B-b-but I can't..."
"You cannot oversee the execution of a friend? But it's your duty, Mayer. As the acting Sheriff, you must carry out your duties in the name and interest of those you serve; the King and the Crown of England. If you refuse, then you're a collaborator in this act of treason. And you too will be punished at the hanging block."
Luke was silent throughout but he gazed at Noah earnestly. Noah knew at once what he needed to do. Either way, the odds were against them, but the odds were infinitely better with Noah in the Sheriff's post rather than sitting in a cell beside Luke. He would at least have the rest of the day to find a way out of this predicament.
"I humbly accept the appointment, Your Grace," he said, bowing his head. "I'll remove the prisoner to the cellar at once."
***
"I'm sorry, Noah. I got you into this mess. I should have been more careful," Luke said from behind the bars of his cell.
"It's not your fault. Things go wrong even with the most well-made plans. And it was a pretty smart plan. Marian's idea, I guess?"
Luke managed a tired smile. "I don't think I should say any more about this. There might be spies lurking around here. Besides, it's safer for you if you don't know all the facts."
"Don't worry, Luke. The Archdeacon and his people are long gone." Noah unlocked the cell door and pulled it open.
"What are you doing?" Luke asked in surprise.
"I'm not going to keep you in a cell. Come on, Luke, we'll talk upstairs where you'll at least get some fresh air."
"Noah, no. If anyone sees me, it'll spell trouble for you. I'm staying in here. But since you have the door open, come in for a minute."
Noah entered the cell and Luke led him to the inner recesses where it was almost completely dark. There, Luke threw his arms around Noah and kissed him with an intensity bordering on desperation.
"Luke, it's going to be fine. I'll get you out of this," Noah said into Luke's ear, hugging him tight.
"I know," Luke said shakily. "I trust you. And I love you."
"I love you too." Noah gave him one last lingering kiss before releasing him. "I have to go now. I'll close the cell door, but I'm not locking it. If you can't stand staying in here, let yourself out and go to my room. Use the backstairs from the pantry and nobody will see you."
After leaving the cellar, Noah sought out the Sheriff and found him in the room which he used as a study. He had a book in his lap but did not appear to be reading. All in all, he looked remarkably sanguine for a man who had recently lost his job.
"Sheriff..."
The Sheriff shook his head and interrupted, "Noah, you should call me John, as my wife does. I'm no longer the Sheriff."
"You are the Sheriff," Noah insisted. "This is just a temporary aberration. I'll have you reinstated once Luke is out of danger. But I need your advice on how to proceed. Is there a higher authority to whom Luke can present an appeal? If not that, is there any way at all to stay the Archdeacon's order?"
The Sheriff sighed heavily. "In the absence of the King or an appointed emissary, the Archdeacon is the only one who can grant a stay of execution."
"Then I'll speak with him," Noah said. "I have little confidence of succeeding but I must at least attempt it."
"There's a better way to change his mind," the Sheriff advised. "I've known the Archdeacon for many years. His temperament is capricious and he can be persuaded to reverse a decision, if approached by the right person. I suggest you speak to his brother. Sir Guy of Gisborne is one of the few people whom he trusts implicitly. And I believe Sir Guy would be amenable to helping Luke."
"I'll go at once to the Archdeacon's house," Noah said promptly.
"I don't think you'll find Sir Guy at home. Not five minutes ago I saw him through this window, walking across the front garden. I thought he was here to pay me a visit, but strangely, no one has come through the front door. Perhaps he went directly to the stables."
Something clicked in Noah's brain. "I think I know where he is. Thank you for your advice, sir. If you'll excuse me, I'll leave you now."
He hurried to the servants' quarters, heading straight for the valet's room. The door was shut but he could hear sounds coming from within. Thomas and Sir Guy was engaging in a rather vigorous bout of exercise, judging by the grunts and groans they both emitted. Noah stood a respectful distance away, out of hearing range, and settled in for a long wait.
Almost an hour later, the door opened and Sir Guy came out, looking cool and collected with not a single hair out of place. He smirked when he saw Noah and doffed an imaginary cap.
"Good day, Deputy Mayer. But I forget myself. You're the Sheriff now."
"Sir Guy, may I have a word with you?"
"Always my pleasure, Sheriff. It seems we've spoken so little lately. But let us remove this conversation to another place. Thomas has an unfortunate inclination towards jealousy."
Noah led Sir Guy away from the servants' quarters to the main hall. Once they were there, he wasted no time in asking Sir Guy for help.
"Sir Guy, you have no doubt heard of what happened this afternoon in this very room. Luke is sentenced to hang tomorrow. We will forever be in your debt if you could speak to the Archdeacon and plead for leniency. Please help him, Sir Guy."
"Why should I help him?" Sir Guy asked. As always, he seemed amused and his tone was slightly condescending.
"If Luke ever meant anything to you, I beg you to help him," Noah said with his head bowed. He was willing to humble himself if that was what it took.
"What did Luke mean to me?" Sir Guy mused, stroking his chin. "I always get what I want, Noah. But Luke got away from me when he was within my grasp. I'm not accustomed to being denied what I want. I might quite enjoy seeing him suffer for it."
"Despite your words, you're not so cruel," Noah said, more in hope than certainty.
"Am I not?" Sir Guy raised his right eyebrow. "Luke was not the only one who slipped my grasp. I wanted you too, Noah, as you may prefer to forget. Tell me this, how badly do you want to help your friend? Are you willing to do what you once refused to do? Will you let me have what I want from you?"
Sir Guy came very close, till his chest was pressed against Noah's arm and shoulder. He ran his hand down Noah's back and cupped his right buttock, squeezing it firmly.
"Will you let me have this, Noah?" he asked, moving his hand to the left cheek.
Before Noah could answer, the side door to the hall opened and a voice said, "No, he won't. Leave Noah alone, Sir Guy."
It was Luke, who immediately pulled Noah to him, all the while staring daggers at Sir Guy.
"How sweet!" Sir Guy mocked. "Luke values your virtue above his own life, Deputy Mayer. Would that we were all so fortunate to have a friend like him. But the more the merrier! Luke, if you will deign to join us, your presence would only sweeten the bargain."
Noah ushered Luke to one side and said urgently in a low voice, "Luke! Sir Guy can help you to..."
"Not like this, Noah!" Luke interjected in a fierce whisper. His tone turned pleading as he continued, "We talked about our first time, remember? How we would wait for the right time and place? It shouldn't happen like this, Noah, with someone else between us. We'll find some other way to get me out of this mess."
"Enough!" Sir Guy drawled, sounding bored. "I have little patience for such tedious negotiations. I will speak with my brother and ask him to reconsider the sentence. You'll have his answer before the day ends."
"Thank you, Sir Guy!" Noah exclaimed, surprised by this unexpected change of heart. He bowed to show his gratitude.
Luke walked up to Sir Guy and touched him gently on the cheek. Although he felt a slight twinge of jealousy, Noah knew that the gesture was one of gratitude and nothing more than that.
"You're not as heartless as you like to pretend," Luke told Sir Guy with a smile. "Thank you for doing this, whatever your reasons may be."
"I'm not given to explaining myself," Sir Guy said. He put on his hat and sauntered to the front door. "Gentlemen, it's been a pleasure. I can't promise you anything, but I shall do my best to persuade my brother."
"Thank you. I can never repay you for this," Luke said earnestly.
"I don't expect repayment." Just before the door closed behind him, Sir Guy turned around and said, "Do you want to know my reason, Luke?"
"Yes, if you don't mind telling me what it is."
Sir Guy pointed at Noah. "You never once looked at me the way that you look at him."
***
When Noah entered his quarters later that evening, he found Luke sitting pensively on the bed. The moment he saw Noah, he jumped up and hugged him.
"The Sheriff told me it was alright for me to leave the cell and come up here. The servants are loyal to him and won't breathe a word to the Archdeacon. Even Thomas, who absolutely hates my guts, would never betray the Sheriff. I'll just lie low till we hear from Sir Guy."
"I just heard from Sir Guy. He gave me this," Noah said. He showed Luke the piece or parchment he was clutching in his hand.
"What does it say?" Luke asked, sounding very scared.
"Sir Guy has negotiated a compromise."
Luke nodded and said shakily, "That sounds promising. What are the terms of the compromise?"
"The Archdeacon has granted a stay of his original sentence. He's willing to dismiss the sentence if you compensate him in full for the theft of his property. A thousand pounds was the sum he named, and we have a week to bring it to him."
"In other words, he wants the money returned to him. Not that it was ever his to begin with," Luke said with a scowl.
"Right now, we can't worry about that. You've been given a life-line, Luke, and we have to take it. We have to find Robin Hood and Marian, and ask them to bring the money here."
"I can't go outdoors and risk being seen by the Archdeacon's men. Noah, you'll have to ride to Sherwood Forest. I'll draw you a map to Robin's camp."
"Okay, I'll ride out in the morning," Noah said and flopped down onto the bed with a groan. "It's been a hell of a day."
"I'm sorry, Noah. It's all my fault and I've caused you all this trouble," Luke said in a small voice.
Noah reached out and ruffled Luke's hair affectionately. "Don't talk such rubbish, Snyder. We're in this together, aren't we?"
***
Early the next morning, an unexpected visitor came to the house just as Noah was preparing to go to the stables.
"Marian!" he said when he saw her. "I was just about to ride to Edwinstowe to look for you and Robin."
"I heard that Luke is to go the hanging block this morning. Has there been a change?"
Noah quickly provided her an account of the latest developments. "So you see," he concluded, "we need the money to be brought back here within the week."
"I had expected as much," she said. "Don't worry, Noah. We'll have the money delivered here before the afternoon, and it'll be done in stealth. Five hundred pounds in silver coins exactly as we found it."
Noah frowned. "Five hundred pounds? The Archdeacon said it was a thousand pounds that was taken from him."
"He's a cheat and a swindler," Marian said furiously, "but that's hardly a surprise. There's no point lamenting what we can't change. We're five hundred pounds short of the ransom sum and must raise the money to save Luke's life."
"Yes," Noah agreed, glad to be working with someone so admirably focused on the task at hand. "We have a week, which I fear is not enough time for such an amount."
"Our best hope is the archery tournament on Saturday."
"The one being held in the town square?" Noah had heard of it, but his knowledge of the details was vague.
"The very same," Marian confirmed. "It's an annual affair but it's of particular interest this year. A sponsor has come forward, a wealthy nobleman from London who's also a keen archer. He has heard that the finest archers in England hail from Nottinghamshire and therefore he's offering a purse of five hundred pounds to the winner."
"Robin is the finest archer of them all. Your plan is for him to win the tournament and the money. But would it not raise suspicion if he turned over his winnings to Luke? The Archdeacon will arrest Robin for yesterday's robbery if there's even the slightest hint that he and Luke are acquainted."
"That's why my plan is for Luke to win the tournament," Marian clarified. "Robin will enter to remove the rest of the competition and allow Luke victory in the final. That's the only way to ensure that the winner's purse goes to Luke. He's a fine archer but there are others in the field who are his equal. Several of the foresters have entered and their skill with the bow is well-known. We need Robin there to defeat them."
Noah smiled, feeling quite optimistic. "It's a good plan, Marian."
"Thank you, Noah. It's not as simple as I would like. You do need to arrange for Luke's entry to the tournament. The Archdeacon may object to it."
"I am the acting Sheriff," Noah said, suddenly appreciating the authority that came with the position. "I'll grant Luke a release under my bond. In any case, Luke will be in the center of the square, with the whole town watching him. He'll hardly have the opportunity to flee. Any objections to the contrary won't stand up to scrutiny."
Marian smiled widely and said, "It seems the Archdeacon has met a worthy adversary."
***
Luke released the arrow and it flew unerringly to his intended target. He breathed a sigh of relief. It was several weeks since he practiced in earnest and he had feared that he would be too rusty at this. But it was coming back to him like a sense memory; the weight of the bow in his hand, the tension of the string as he pulled it back, the angles of flight exactly like in a game of Angry Birds.
There was another hour to go before the tournament started. This was merely a practice session but a small crowd was already forming. Luke was in the competition circle, marked out by a makeshift fence in the town square. Eleven other men were there with him, among them Robin Hood and Little John who had both eschewed their green garbs for the day. Mindful that they were supposed to be unacquainted, Luke did not speak nor make eye contact with Robin or Little John.
The competition structure was simple. In the first round, twelve men would shoot three arrows each at a target placed twenty yards away. The eight best performers would advance to the next round, where the targets were moved further to a distance of forty yards. The field would then be halved to four and the format switched to a paired match-up to determine the final two standing. In the last and deciding round of the tournament, the target would be placed a hundred yards away. Luke knew he would have trouble with that distance, not having the strength in his arms or back to send the arrow that far without sacrificing accuracy. But if all went well and he was in the final, he would be facing Robin who would yield the competition to him.
Luke looked around the circle to size up his competition. They were all competent archers but he felt he was no worse than most of them. After observing them for several minutes, he singled out Henry Packard as Robin's strongest threat. The forester was an impressive archer, with excellent posture and a strong spine. Luke would have to rely on Robin or Little John to remove Packard from the competition before the final round.
When the practice session halted, he walked to the side stands, keeping himself in full view of the Sheriff's men who were standing guard around the arena. He had to keep up appearances as a supposed prisoner released on bond. Noah was sitting in a box designated for important personages. Beside him was the tournament sponsor, a man named Richard Court, who was Baron of an estate in Hampshire.
Luke felt a tug on his sleeve and turned to see Marian smiling at him.
"Show them how it's done, Luke," she cheered him on. "Hold your arm steady and it'll turn out fine."
"Thank you, but I confess I'm a little nervous."
"There's no need for it. Robin and Little John will see to that," she assured him.
Luke looked at the tournament circle, where Robin and Henry Packard were still practicing. Robin released an arrow, and while it found the target, Luke could sense that something was off. Robin's posture appeared unbalanced and he wobbled slightly on his feet when he lowered his bow.
"Marian, is something wrong with Robin?" Luke asked, dropping his voice to a whisper. "Look at him. He doesn't seem himself."
Marian studied Robin as he took another practice shot. Again, he hit the target. But again, he looked slightly uncoordinated.
"Look at Little John. He's in similar trouble. And so is Will Scarlettt, up there," Marian said, pointing surreptitiously at the eastern stand.
Luke looked at Little John and Will, and it was as Marian said. They were both unsteady on their feet, to a greater extent than Robin. Will Scarlett was also green in the face. Scouring the crowd, Luke saw several of the other Merry Men, disguised as townspeople. They also looked unwell.
"Something is afflicting all of them," he told Marian.
"They must have undercooked the venison last night. Those fools!" she exclaimed. "The last time it happened, they were ill for three full days. But don't let this distract you, Luke. Robin can shoot an arrow even when he's the worst for drink. You've seen him do it. This isn't any different."
"I hope so," Luke gulped.
A horn blared and the town crier called the crowd to attention, "Good people of Nottingham, the tournament begins!"
The first round went without a hitch. At the short distance of twenty yards, Luke was as unerring an archer as anyone else in the field. He easily made the cut for the second round.
In the second round, the competition was fierce. Henry Packard was shooting with deadly accuracy and surged to the lead, only to be overhauled by Robin who seemed to suddenly shed the worst signs of his illness. Behind them, there was little to separate the other competitors. Three arrows were not enough to settle it and they went on to shoot twenty arrows each before the field was halved. Luke and Little John made the cut, together with Robin and Packard.
"As the winner of the second round, you may choose your opposition for the third round," the tournament referee said to Robin.
"I choose him," Robin said, pointing his bow at Henry Packard.
Packard sneered, "It'll be my pleasure to pit myself against the mighty Robin of Locksley. Prepare to be defeated, Robin Hood."
The first semi-final match-up was between Luke and Little John. They both landed their first two shots. Then Little John missed his second shot by three inches while Luke found the target.
"And the winner of this match-up, and the first finalist, is Luke Snyder!" the town crier announced to raucous cheers.
Up in the box, Noah gave Luke a nod, which Luke acknowledged with a smile. So far, everything was going to plan. Then he saw Little John throwing up behind the town crier's platform. And it occurred to him that Little John may have missed that shot even without it being planned. His heart clenched with fear and he hoped that Robin had a stronger stomach than Little John.
From the first arrow, the match-up between Robin Hood and Henry Packard was a tense and closely fought encounter. They traded shot after accurate shot. After ten arrows, the score was even. Luke could tell that Robin was feeling unwell but he seemed to shake it off when the bow was in his hands.
Henry Packard bent his elbow and sent his eleventh arrow into the sky. It sailed sixty yards and hit the middle of the bulls-eye. He bowed to acknowledge the applause from the crowd.
Then it was Robin's turn. He stood in position and strung his arrow to his bow. There was sweat dripping from his forehead and his arm shook slightly. This was a first; Luke had never seen Robin so ruffled when he was about to shoot.
Robin pulled back the arrow string and straightened his back. Just as he was about to release the arrow, a spasm seized him and his feet gave way. He fell to the ground, coughing and retching. In the meantime, the arrow flew through the air. It landed on the ground, five feet short of the target board.
A hush fell over the arena. Luke's head drooped. Henry Packard had defeated Robin Hood.
***
The two finalists were granted a half hour recess, during which minstrels entertained the crowd. Henry Packard was surrounded by his fellow foresters, who slapped his back and were vociferous in their approval.
Luke was not short of his own supporters but he chose to spend the time alone. He was worried and agitated, and wanted to meditate himself into a state of calm. Not that it was working, he thought ruefully.
There was a tap on his shoulder and he recognized the touch immediately.
"Noah!" he said even before turning around.
"You okay, Luke? You're kinda quiet and that's rather unusual for you."
He rolled his eyes half-heartedly. "Thanks for trying to cheer me up. But what I really need right now is a spot of divine intervention."
"You may have gotten it," Noah said. "It's getting windy. And it'll be blowing into your back. Use it to carry your arrow."
Luke looked up and saw that the banners above the stands were unfurled. On the trees behind the stands, leaves were rustling in the breeze.
He grinned and said, "Wind-borne acceleration! It's basically like using the yellow bird in Angry Birds. Thanks for the tip, Noah. I feel a lot better now."
"Good," Noah said, squeezing his shoulder in encouragement. Then, he added very softly, "I love you."
"Me too," Luke said as calm descended upon him.
Luke took a deep breath, infused by a surge of optimism. He took up his bow and returned to the competition circle. The target board seemed impossibly far away, but he felt the wind on his back and was buoyed by it.
Henry Packard took his spot beside Luke. He looked at Luke dismissively and said, "I look forward to defeating you, Luke Snyder. You escaped the law once but you shan't escape it again."
Luke remained resolutely unruffled. "I have no idea what you're talking about, Packard. In any case, you shouldn't look forward to something that might never happen." He stood aside and bowed mockingly, gesturing at the target. "I believe you're to take the first shot."
Packard took his time to string his arrow and release it. The breeze had momentarily eased and his arrow sailed fast and true into the air, hitting the center of the bull's eye.
"Full points for Henry Packard for his first shot!" announced the town crier.
Luke stood on his spot until he felt the wind picking up. When it was gusting quite strongly, he shot his arrow and closed his eyes, fearing that it might not carry. He opened his eyes again when he heard the crowd roaring around him.
"Full points for Luke Snyder for his first shot! The scores are tied after the first round."
Packard's second arrow again unerringly found the center of the target, scoring maximum points. So did Luke's, although it was a close call with his arrow landing on the edge just inside the bull's eye. The crowd cheered loudly, showing their appreciation for this display of marksmanship.
Before he took his third shot, Packard sneered, "You've been lucky so far, Snyder. But it can't last forever."
Packard lined up his third shot and released his arrow. The wind was blowing strongly and Luke could tell at once that Packard had failed to correctly adjust his angle. The arrow was flying too fast and too high. When it arced downward again, it soared beyond and behind the target board, landing on the ground.
After several seconds of disbelieving silence, the crowd groaned. Luke's heart-beat tripled, drumming insistently in his chest. He had an opportunity now to win the tournament.
"No points for Henry Packard for his third shot!" the town crier announced.
Luke held his bow in position and looked up at the box where Noah was seated. Noah gave him a thumbs up sign, accompanied by a smile a mile wide. And Luke knew that he had this in the bag.
His tunic was fluttering and he felt the wind prickling his skin. He straightened up and pulled the string of his bow. Fueled by adrenaline, his arms felt stronger than ever. He released the arrow and kept his eyes opened, following its path of flight.
The arrow sped through the air and came back down to earth in a graceful arc, heading straight for the target board. The crowd exhaled as one. The target board reverberated from the impact of being struck. When it stopped shaking, Luke saw that his arrow had split the bull's eye, landing exactly in the center of the quarter-sized dot.
In the box, Noah raised his fists above his head in celebration. Above the din of cheering and whooping, the town crier's voice rang out.
"Full points for Luke Snyder for his third shot. Ladies and gentlemen, we have a winner!"
***
Continue to Chapter 7