The Lost Ballad of Sherwood Forest - Chapter 2 of 7

[gentleice]

2 Lost in the Passage of Time


One of the pigs looked up sleepily when Noah came out of the house. It studied him for a few seconds before laying down its snout again. Noah wondered hysterically if the pig sensed something strange about him. Like the fact that he was from the future.

It was pretty out here. The trees were thick with foliage and the grass was abundant. There were wildflowers dotting the landscape. From a distance, this looked like a postcard picture extolling the virtues of the English countryside.

Up close, the scene was less palatable. The walls of the houses were dirty and dilapidated, the walking path was littered with food scraps, and the animals were caked in mud and what smelled like excrement. By virtue of being unpleasant, these details convinced Noah that he was not dreaming. This had to be real because it was beyond his imagination.

A figure was walking along the path, coming towards him. Noah considered walking off in the opposite direction. He was still a little unsettled by the brief encounter with his landlady, and was not quite prepared to meet someone else from this century. But he noticed that the man approaching him looked familiar. He was blonde, which was by no means unusual, but his face was far from commonplace. His face was exactly like Luke's.

Noah stood still as the man drew nearer. He dared not say anything, in case he embarrassed himself by babbling about time-travel to a total stranger. The man stopped when he was within arm's length. His eyes were uncertain as he regarded Noah warily.

"Good morning," he said and his voice was enough like Luke's that Noah began to believe. Then his next words confirmed it. "I'm looking for a certain Mr. Thomas Hanks. Might you have seen him?"

"Luke! It really is you!" Noah was ready to weep from sheer relief.

"Oh thank god, Noah!" Luke pulled Noah into a hug. It was so brief that it was over before Noah realized that it had happened. By then, Luke was talking again. "Man, I thought I was hallucinating earlier when I saw you. What the hell is going on?"

"I don't know. I woke up this morning inside that house." Noah pointed to the building in question. "Where did you come from?"

"I woke up and found myself in the back of a wagon, lying on a pile of turnips. The driver must have been in a hurry because he had the horses going at full speed. Then one of the wheels ran over a log and the wagon tilted. The next thing I knew, I was on the ground and the wagon was out of sight." Luke then let out a bark of strained laughter, tinged by panicked hysteria. "Would you believe it, I literally fell off the turnip truck!"

"Are you okay? You didn't hurt yourself, did you?"

"No, I'm fine," Luke answered with another nervous laugh. "As fine as can be expected, anyway. Under the circumstances. You know, waking up in a strange place, wearing strange clothes. Time-traveling to the past, that sort of thing." By this point, he was hyperventilating. He began pacing up and down, waving his arms around wildly.

Distracted by Luke's extreme agitation, Noah almost did not notice that they were no longer alone. A bearded young man, dressed head to toe in green, walked out from the woods and came towards them. He appeared not to see Noah but recognized Luke, judging from the smile that broke out on his face.

"As I'm alive, is that you, Luke Snyder?" he cried and slapped Luke heartily on the back. "You've returned from London Town!"

Flummoxed by this new development, Luke opened and closed his mouth several times without saying a word. His eyes darted sideways to where Noah was standing, silently asking Noah for help. Noah, who was equally as confused, could do nothing except to shrug in sympathy.

The stranger frowned at Luke's lack of response. "What, Luke? Do you not know me? You were only away for six months. Surely you've not forgotten your old friends in Sherwood Forest. It's me, Alan-A-Dale. I can't be so much changed in so short a time."

Luke's eyes widened at this astounding turn of events but he quickly regained his composure. With only the slightest hint of trembling in his voice, he said, "Alan-A-Dale, of course I remember you! It's merely that the morning sun was in my eyes. It's good to see you again, my friend." He shook with Alan's hand with enthusiastic vigor.

"Aye, it's good to see you too, Luke. Robin and the lads will be right glad that you're back. Sherwood Forest isn't the same without you."

"And how have they been? Robin and Little John and the rest?" Luke asked. "And the good Friar Tuck, is his appetite as healthy as it ever was?"

Noah could only admire Luke's display of chutzpah. Were their roles reversed, he doubted he could maintain such a calm demeanor when his brain felt like it was melting down. Somehow, they had traveled back in time to medieval Nottingham, which was remarkable enough in and of itself. On top of that, Noah was apparently deputy to the Sheriff of Nottingham and Luke was one of Robin Hood's men. "Remarkable" did not begin to cover it.

"Come, let us return to Sherwood and you can see yourself how we have fared in your absence." Alan put his hand on Luke's shoulder and steered him towards the forest.

Luke allowed himself to be led, but not before turning his head and throwing a worried glance in Noah's direction. He dragged his feet slightly and in that moment of hesitation, Alan-A-Dale saw where Luke was looking. His eyes narrowed with suspicion when he noticed Noah's presence for the first time.

"Good morning, Constable Mayer," he said to Noah. "Or rather, Deputy Mayer, if I'm not misinformed. Congratulations on the promotion."

"Thank you," was all that Noah could think of to say. This was so strange; what was the etiquette in a situation like this? Should the Sheriff's deputy be exchanging pleasantries with a member of Robin Hood's band?

"I didn't know you were acquainted," Alan directed the statement to both Luke and Noah.

"We only just met," Noah answered. It was truthful enough, if potentially misleading.

"Yes," Luke confirmed. "We met by chance, but Noah has been nothing other than helpful."

At the use of Noah's given name, Alan's right eye-brow shot up, but he seized on something else that Luke said. "Helpful? In what way?"

"I've traveled a long way and was disoriented when I got here. It was only when I saw Noah that I knew for sure where I was. He helped assure me that I wasn't completely lost." Luke's answer was completely honest, and only Noah could know that it was true in more ways than one.

"Aye, lad!" Alan exclaimed. "You've been away too long if you cannot recognize the trees of Sherwood Forest. The streets of London Town have softened your mind. It's just as well that you're back now. Come, let me reacquaint you with the most beauteous place in all of these fair isles." Once again, he pulled Luke away towards the forest.

Luke held back, then walked up to Noah and shook his hand. "Thank you for your help," he said while his eyes communicated another message to Noah. "When I'm next in this part of the world, perhaps I'll see you again."

Noah understood. They were to rendezvous at this spot at some point in the future. However it happened, they had gotten here together and they would find a way back together.

He nodded and mouthed, "Okay." Then he watched as Luke departed with Alan-A-Dale.

***

They walked along a well worn path that weaved through thick clusters of trees. Sunlight streamed through the branches overhead, dappling the ground with splashes of silver and gold. Luke might have been inclined to appreciate the picturesque sight, if his brain was not otherwise engaged in fending off a full-blown panic attack. He had managed to remain calm earlier but now that Noah was no longer there, he was without his only connection to the 21st century.

To keep from hyperventilating, Luke focused on the positive aspects of this surreal experience. He was walking beside Alan-A-Dale, one of Robin Hood's Merry Men. Not only that, he himself was one of Robin Hood's men. He was about to meet Robin Hood himself!

Luke suddenly felt more cheerful. He, and Noah, had been gifted a rare opportunity to live among legends. There were countless scholars and historians who would give up at least two limbs to be in Luke's position. Luke decided that he was fortunate to be here, however it was that he was brought to this place. Having decided that, he was determined to make the most of his time here.

"Mayer is a decent fellow," Alan-A-Dale said, "but it's best that we don't tangle with the Sheriff's men. They left us to mind our business in the past, but that may change once the Archdeacon returns from Newark."

Luke tried not to react to this confirmation that Noah worked for the Sheriff of Nottingham. He had suspected as much during the earlier exchange when Alan addressed Noah as "Deputy Mayer" and congratulated Noah on being promoted. Poor Noah, he thought, to be stuck working for such a notoriously corrupt and cruel individual.

"Why would things change with the Archdeacon's return?" He knew that by asking, he risked sounding suspiciously ignorant about things he was probably expected to know. But he decided that being direct was better than guessing and conjecture.

Alan-A-Dale regarded him with mock sorrow. "Oh, Luke, what did they do to you in London? Have you forgotten everything about Nottingham?"

"Refresh my memory," Luke said with his most winsome smile. "Six months is a long time and many things might have changed in that duration. Tell me about the Archdeacon."

"He and Robin are sworn enemies. Robin believes that the Archdeacon misuses the taxes and tithes paid to the church. The Archdeacon resents Robin for speaking ill of him to the people of Nottingham. He thinks we're all no better than common bandits. If he could catch us red-handed, he would have us hung and quartered in double quick time. You should know all this, Luke. We've incurred his wrath more than once, even if you've never crossed his path yourself."

"I took a knock my head this morning and my memory was a little affected. But it's coming back to me now," Luke improvised.

"You'll do well to be careful these next several weeks. We hear tell that the Archdeacon arrives from Newark with two dozen foresters. He persuaded the Baron that they are needed in service of the King, to protect the deer in this part of Sherwood. But we know his true purpose. He's out for our hides. The Sheriff will have no choice but to cooperate. Even if Noah Mayer is your best friend in the world, he'll be no use to you if the foresters arrest you in the King's name."

Luke remembered enough from his studies of the Robin Hood ballads to point out, "They can only arrest us if we are caught hunting deer. Perhaps we could consider a temporary alteration to our diet." It was a suggestion partially borne of Luke's own indifference to the appeal of venison meat.

"Oh, lad! London has made you soft in the head and in the stomach!" Alan lamented. "If we do not hunt the deer, we'll starve before midsummer arrives. Meat is scarce, and the butchers' prices are dearer than a King's ransom."

Luke thought better of proposing a vegetarian alternative. His 21st century ways had no place here in medieval England. Instead he conceded, "You're correct. Then we must take care to watch our backs while we hunt."

Thereafter they walked on for another hour and a half while Alan-A-Dale talked about the latest happenings in Nottingham and Sherwood Forest. He asked Luke a passing question about his time in London, but seemed to have little interest in, and much disdain for, the big city. Usually accustomed to doing most of the talking, Luke was happy to allow Alan the lead in this instance. He was still wrapping his mind around this bizarre situation in which he found himself.

Presently, they came upon a man reclining under a tree with his hat covering his face. He jerked his head when he heard them approaching, dislodging his hat to reveal a thick mane of shaggy brown hair and a capacious beard. Then he got to his feet and Luke saw that he was a very tall man, standing at least seven inches above Luke's own six feet.

"Luke Snyder, as I'm alive!" he cried out with delight. "You're back from London Town!"

"I found him outside Nottingham Town," Alan-A-Dale explained. "You'll have to be patient with him, Little John. He's been away too long and London's turned him soft."

Luke's eyes widened with shock. This was Little John! But he looked nothing like the Little John depicted in modern popular culture. Apart from his height, he had no distinguishing features that marked him as a man of such great size that he earned the ironic nickname "Little". His girth was average, the circumference of his chest was average, and his arms and legs seemed no more muscular than average. He was disconcertingly, almost disappointingly, average.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" Little John asked and Luke realized that his surprise must be evident on his face.

"You look... different," Luke blurted out without thinking. "Different from what I expected."

Little John gathered Luke into a big bear hug, squeezing him with great enthusiasm. "You're a good lad, and the brightest of the lot! Alan, did I not tell you that I'd shed weight these last months? You'd not believe me but here's the proof. Luke can see that I look different. Tell him, Luke. Is it not obvious that I'm a good stone lighter than when you last saw me?"

"You're certainly... slimmer than I remember," Luke replied with absolute honesty.

"There!" Little John pronounced with great satisfaction while Alan-A-Dale rolled his eyes. "It's good to have a discerning eye back in Sherwood. You've been gone too long, lad. Has your uncle's estate been fully settled in London Town? You'll not soon leave us again?"

"I don't know for certain," Luke answered, again with perfect honesty.

"Well, I hope you're back to stay." Little John gave Luke a friendly slap on the back. "Come, let's return to camp. The lads are having a lie-in this morning. I'd have done the same, but Robin was snoring loudly enough to frighten the deer."

Luke followed Little John and Alan-A-Dale through a thicket of trees until they reached a large open space dominated by an imposing oak tree. Twenty men, give or take, were spread out on the ground beneath the tree, lying on bedding of hay, hide and cloth. Luke felt a thrill run down his spine; this was the famed Major Oak of Nottinghamshire, where the Merry Men made their home in Sherwood Forest.

The men were asleep but Little John had no compunction in loudly announcing Luke's return. "Up and about, sleepyheads! Robin, rouse yourself! See who has come back to join his brothers."

Luke took a deep breath. He was tingling with anticipation. Soon, he would meet the legendary Robin Hood himself.

Several of the men stirred from their slumber and called out their greetings amidst a chorus of yawns, "Welcome back, Luke!"

Then one man, dressed top to toe in green, came forward.

"So, you're back, Luke," he said, not unkindly but without much warmth. "Is everything in order in London Town?"

"For now. I wouldn't have come back otherwise," Luke prevaricated.

He wondered if this man was Robin Hood. It seemed unlikely because he was so wholly unprepossessing. Despite a half-successful attempt at growing a beard, he was obviously quite young, perhaps only two or three years older than Luke, if even that much. He was shorter than Luke by a good three inches and was slight in stature. His hair was a nondescript brown, as were his eyes. His features were pleasant enough but his expression was bland. He seemed too unremarkable to be Robin Hood.

But then Little John said to the man, "Robin, we can talk about London later. I'm sure Luke here could do with a bite of breakfast, and so can I."

"Yes," Robin agreed and addressed his next words to all the men, "We're heading to the Leaping Lizard for a spot of breakfast. If you're of a mind to join us, come along."

This was hardly the stuff of legendary leadership. Luke had seen more conviction and authority from inebriated frat house seniors.

First Little John and now Robin Hood had turned out to be nothing like Luke's expectations. This left him unsettled; he wondered what other cherished assumptions would be shattered while he was here in the past. If the real Robin Hood bore so little resemblance to the legend, was this also the case for the villains of Robin Hood lore? Was the real Sheriff of Nottingham a kinder man than the version in books and on film? For Noah's sake, Luke hoped so.

***

Without the benefit of motorized transport, moving around Nottingham was an act of endurance. As he wore down his soles making his way into town, Noah vowed never again to complain about a delayed flight or train when he returned to the future. He briefly worried about getting lost because he had no idea where he was going, but the first person he encountered was a butcher pushing a covered cart, presumably full of meat.

"Good day, Deputy," the butcher said. "Are you off to the Sheriff's house? I hear he's summoned all the constables for a meeting today."

"Yes," Noah answered simply. He decided that short answers were safer; there was less risk of him betraying how out of place he really was.

"I'm heading that way myself," the butcher said. It was not said as an invitation and the butcher appeared quite happy to push his cart without any company. But Noah seized on this as an opportunity to be led to his destination.

They walked companionably and chatted about the weather. Through a few judiciously phrased questions, Noah learned that the Sheriff conducted all official business from his house where he lived with his wife and three children. The concept of an office was apparently non-existent in this century. The Sheriff's house doubled as the town's courthouse for hearings and petitions, and his cellars served as the town's jail, where convicted outlaws were kept before being executed in the town's square.

Presently, the butcher was joined by several other tradesmen and Noah left them to talk among themselves. He followed several feet behind the butcher's cart, taking in the sights and rather overpowering smells of Nottingham town. Many of the houses at the fringe were made of wood and were in very poor state; they seemed on the verge of collapsing if a strong wind gusted. But in the center of town was a cluster of handsome stone buildings. Noah recognized several from his sojourns through Nottingham town in the 21st century; one would survive to house a bank and another would be turned into a museum.

The butcher stopped at the door of a large house that stood three floors high. "I leave you here, gentlemen," he told his fellow tradesmen and nodded at Noah. Then he rounded the corner to the back of the house, where he would deliver his wares through the back entrance.

Taking a deep breath to calm himself, Noah sauntered into the Sheriff's house with as much nonchalance as he could muster. The door opened into a hall of considerable width and height. The King's coat of arms hung on the inner wall, giving the room an officious air. There were several men there, all dressed as Noah was. He realized that the clothes he wore must be an uniform, marking him as one of the Sheriff's men.

They greeted him cordially and he returned the courtesy. By listening carefully to how they addressed each other, he soon learned most of their names. As more men came into the house, it became more difficult to remember what they were called. There were one too many Johns and Wills in the group. Noah turned his attention to the coat of arms on the wall. Reading the dates and the name on the banner, he ascertained that this was the 14th century and King Edward the Third was the ruling monarch of England.

Several minutes later, a small-built man of around forty came in through a side door. The constables stood at attention when he entered and Noah knew that this was the Sheriff of Nottingham. He had an amiable face and kindly eyes. Being so much taller, Noah could see that the Sheriff had a small bald patch at the back of his head, surrounded by fine strands of dark hair. He looked less like a Sheriff than a school master.

"Good afternoon, men," he said in a slightly quavering voice. He sounded like he was recovering from a bad cold. " I think you may have some idea why I've called you all here today. The Archdeacon returns from Newark tomorrow. He'll bring with him two dozen foresters from the Baron's hold in Newark. They are authorized to roam the parts of Sherwood that are within the jurisdiction of Nottingham. They have authority to arrest anyone caught hunting the royal deer."

"Will they have authority over us?" one of the Wills spoke up.

The Sheriff shook his head. "Not as such, but I would advise that we offer them our fullest cooperation. In name, the foresters are answerable only to the King. But the Archdeacon is the King's vassal in His Highness's absence. And as you know, the office of Sheriff exists by the grace of the Archdeacon. The foresters have no authority over us, but the Archdeacon does. And it is by his doing that the foresters are here."

"He brings them to capture Robin Hood and his men," surmised a stout man named James Renshaw, causing Noah's ears to prickle with alarm. Did this mean trouble for Luke?

"It's an unsubtle ploy," the Sheriff concurred.

"And little good will it do him. I dare say that Robin's band will outsmart the foresters," Renshaw predicted.

"Perhaps so," the Sheriff said. "But we must be careful while they are here. It's our custom, and my preference, to let Robin's men be. We have done so despite the Archdeacon's displeasure. While I would like to continue as we always have, there will be two dozen pairs of eyes watching us on behalf of the Archdeacon. The foresters have no authority over us but they have the Archdeacon's ear. We cannot have them witness any negligence on our part to arrest Robin's gang for even the smallest of misdemeanors. The Archdeacon won't hesitate to have us executed for treason. He's long suspected us of being too lenient on Robin Hood; let's not give him proof of his suspicions."

Noah contemplated this with an increasing sense of dread. What little relief he had felt when he discovered the Sheriff's tolerant attitude towards Robin Hood was by now erased. The Archdeacon sounded like quite the vengeful tyrant.

The Sheriff continued, "I trust you will know how to best mind yourselves around the foresters. Keep a wide berth and you'll run less risk of being seen."

"When do they arrive?" Noah asked. As he was supposedly the Sheriff's Deputy, he felt that he ought to say something.

"The Archdeacon comes tomorrow. His brother arrives today to ensure that his house is in good order. That is the second matter I wish to discuss with you. The Archdeacon's brother is the leader of the foresters and his reputation precedes him. You may have heard of Sir Guy of Gisborne."

Noah swallowed down an involuntary yelp of recognition. Thankfully, nobody heard him because everyone in the room began talking at once.

"Sir Guy the Victorious, I've heard him called," said one of the Johns. "He has never been bested in a fight."

"Vicious Sir Guy is the name I've been told," said James Renshaw. "When he catches an outlaw hunting the King's deer, he shoots an arrow straight through his chest. No questions asked, no shriving for the poor sod."

"They say he moves like a shadow in the dark. You won't know he's there until he announces himself," said a third man.

There were several more such statements, each a testimony to the formidable reputation of Sir Guy of Gisborne. Noah found himself rather intrigued.

"I don't know if all these stories are true, if indeed any are true," the Sheriff said. "We do know that Sir Guy is the Archdeacon's brother. For that reason alone, he's dangerous. No doubt, he will instruct his foresters to pay close attention to Robin's movements, and by extension, to us. He's a master of stealth, or at least he's famed as such. Be mindful of that as you go about your duties."

"Yes, sir," the men said in unison.

"Good. And now onto more mundane matters. As you know, we are to collect the summer taxes soon. Because of the rain in the past months, many of the farmers are facing a late crop. When you go to them, I ask that you exercise discretion. If the need arises, grant them a stay and an extension till the end of the summer. If they cannot pay their taxes in coin, we can take payment in grain or produce, whichever suits."

"Will the Archdeacon not mind?" a young constable asked nervously.

"If he does, I'll answer to him," the Sheriff declared. Noah found himself full of admiration for this mild-mannered man with a spine of steel, so unlike the Sheriff of popular legend.

There were a few more instructions imparted before the Sheriff called the meeting to an end. As he prepared to dismiss the constables, he made a final announcement.

"I heard today from our old friend, John Suttfolk. He's happily settled in Rushcliffe with his new bride and invites you all to visit him. He was a fine Deputy and I'm sorry to lose him, but we could not ask for a better successor than Noah. Suttfolk himself always said that you were destined for great things, and I could not agree more." He smiled in Noah's direction while the men said, "Hear, hear!"

Noah tried not to blush as he deflected, "Thank you, sir. You're too kind."

"That will be all for today," the Sheriff said. "You may return to your posts and I'll see you all here in a fortnight. Noah, would you mind staying for a little longer? I have something particular to discuss with you."

When the other men had left, the Sheriff led Noah away from the hall into another part of the house. This was a smaller room, perhaps a parlor. The Sheriff invited Noah to take a seat while he lowered himself into an upholstered chair. He poured two mugs of mead from a small flask on a side table.

"Noah, I mentioned before that it's your right to live in this house as my Deputy. I apologize that we could not accommodate you before while Suttfolk's things were still here. Now that he has removed them to Rushcliffe, the left wing upstairs is yours, whenever you're ready to move in. It's not much, but it must be a great improvement on that hovel that Mrs. Beckton calls a lodge. My valet will go there tomorrow to help transport your belongings here."

"Sir, I..." Noah trailed off, then recovered himself to say, "Thank you."

"There are other advantages and responsibilities that come with the post of Deputy. I should have discussed all of this with you before offering you the promotion. But John Suttfolk did rather leave us in a hurry." The Sheriff chuckled fondly. "His new missus wrung that proposal from him much earlier than anyone expected. And no sooner had he proposed than they were in church! I'd never seen anything like it. Poor Suttfolk didn't know what had happened until the morning after."

Noah joined the Sheriff in his laughter, although he did not know John Suttfolk from John Smith. He was quickly learning to trust his instinct and react as his gut told him to.

"But enough about that," the Sheriff said when he stopped laughing. "Noah, as Deputy, it will be your duty to oversee the eastern districts. The men will bring the collections to you and you must convey them here safely. There is an outpost cottage at Edwinstowe where you may stay if it's too late to ride back to town. But as Deputy, you are expected to be here on Thursdays and Fridays, when we hear petitions and conduct hearings. I know it's a great distance to travel, even if only twice a week. Unlike John Suttfolk, you do not have your own horse. But you will have use of one from my stable."

"There's no need, sir," Noah protested. It was mostly fueled by his own inability to ride, and his suspicion that he might be afraid of horses.

"Nonsense, Noah. Believe me, you'll do your job better with the aid of a steed. And if there's one thing I know about you, you never want to do less than your best."

It was an eerily accurate assertion, all things considered. Perhaps Noah did have something in common with his alter-ego in the past beyond sharing the same name and apparently the same appearance.

"Very well, sir. Thank you for the kind offer."

"Good, I'm glad that we agree. Well then, you may move in as soon as you can pack your things together. The east wing awaits you. It has its own entrance from the pantry, so you may come and go as you wish. I'll not monitor what you do in your own time. Joseph has prepared one of the mares for you to take with you back to Mrs. Beckton's. She's a sweet-natured creature and willing to carry thrice her own weight."

"Thank you, sir," Noah repeated through a haze of panic. He had no idea how to handle a horse, never mind ride one in full view of the entire town. The closest he had ever come to a horse was the time he sat, petrified and awed, in the front row of a rodeo. He wondered if he could simply walk the horse, like one would push a bicycle.

While he was contemplating his very limited options, a scullery maid came into the parlor. She curtsied and said, "Begging your pardon, Sheriff. Sir Guy of Gisborne has come calling. He's waiting in the morning room."

"Thank you, Mary." The Sheriff rose from his seat and prepared to leave. "I must go, Noah. Please finish your mead and let yourself out when you're ready. After all, this will soon be your home as much as it's mine."

A short while later, Noah walked by an open door as he made his way to the front entrance. He heard voices coming from within, one of them the Sheriff's, the other a rich baritone. Unable to resist, he peeked through the door, hoping to catch a glimpse of the famous Sir Guy of Gisborne. He saw a very tall man, perhaps two inches taller than Noah himself, with jet black hair and dressed all in black. Sir Guy turned slightly such that his face came into full view. He had piercing blue-gray eyes, an aquiline nose and a chiseled jaw darkened by stubble. Everything about him radiated an effortless, almost decadent sensuality, like a sleek jungle cat. He was devastatingly attractive, Noah admitted, but his attractiveness was dark and dangerous; this jungle cat would bare its fangs and kill its prey in the blink of an eye.

Just as Noah was about to move past the doorway, Sir Guy angled up his head and his eyes caught Noah's gaze. A slow, lazy smile spread over his face, rendering him even more attractive than before. It was a blatantly seductive smile, with hooded eyes and a lick across his lower lip.

Noah shivered as he quickly walked away. He was surprised by his own reaction. What he felt was not the tug of attraction, which he had expected in light of Sir Guy's manifestly appealing physical attributes. Instead, his skin was prickling with a sense of foreboding.

***

The next day, Noah waited for Luke outside Mrs. Beckton's lodge but Luke did not come. Noah began to worry and his mind concocted unhelpful scenarios of Luke being injured or incapacitated somewhere in the forest. He was also caught in a dilemma; he wanted to stay at Mrs. Beckton's until Luke turned up, but he was obliged to take up residence at the Sheriff's house sooner rather than later. The Sheriff's valet came later that day and moved Noah's meager belongings, most of which had been stowed under the bed, to the Sheriff's house.

The following day, Noah packed the remainder of his things and loaded the bundle onto the Sheriff's mare. She was a docile creature, who obediently trotted behind Noah while he led her from place to place. Although less fearful than in the beginning, he was still at a complete loss for what to do with a horse; he was in no way ready to mount and ride one.

He stood at the spot where he had last seen Luke, nervously fiddling with the horse's reins. If Luke did not come today, Noah would have to work out some other way to locate him. For the millionth time since he got here, he missed the convenience of his cell phone.

Then, like the most welcome of sights to very sore eyes, Luke appeared from behind a cluster of trees and came running up to Noah at full pelt. As he had done a few days earlier, Luke threw his arms around Noah in a quick hug which lasted no more than half a second.

"I'm so sorry, Noah. I couldn't come any earlier. They wouldn't let me out of their sight and..." Luke stopped short when he saw the horse. "What are you doing with a horse?"

"I'm supposed to ride her to Edwinstowe. The only problem is, I don't actually know how to ride."

"I was riding before I could walk," Luke said happily. "And as it happens, I came from Edwinstowe. That's where Robin's band is camped. It's a good ninety minutes on foot and my feet are feeling every minute of that walk. The shoemakers in this century can stand to learn a few things about arch support." Luke scowled as he lifted his right foot and rotated his ankle.

"So you really are with Robin Hood's band," Noah marveled. "Can you believe what's happening to us? I work with the Sheriff of Nottingham..."

"And I'm one of Robin Hood's Merry Men," Luke finished. "It's like we're living out a movie script. Only with inadequate footwear and rather bad food. I hope you're getting better meals than I am."

Noah smiled and it struck him again, as it had several time in their short acquaintance, how much he enjoyed Luke's company.

"Have you been eating poorly in the forest?"

"God, where to start?" Luke groaned extravagantly. "There's plenty to eat in the forest. That is, if you're particularly fond of deer meat. I swear, when we get back, I'm going to be a vegetarian for a month, just to detox." He took the reins from Noah and patted the horse on her nose. "What's her name?"

"Salamander. But everyone calls her Sally."

"Hey, Sally," Luke said to the mare, stroking the length of her neck. "You're a beauty, aren't you? Will you take us to Nottingham Castle?"

"Nottingham Castle?" Noah repeated, puzzled by Luke's suggestion. "Why do you want to go there?"

"I've been thinking about how we got here. It must have something to do with that day in Barton Chapel. Do you remember how we touched that tablet with our names on it?"

"And it felt like touching a live electric wire," Noah recalled.

"Yes, exactly! That has to be the link to how we came here. We saw our names there; there were two people named Noah Mayer and Luke Snyder living in the 14th century. Somehow, when we touched their names on that stone tablet, we traveled back in time and leaped into their lives. Maybe the tablet was enchanted or maybe it's a time portal. I don't know but I'm pretty sure it brought us here."

"And you think it will bring us back to the future."

"I've studied enough medieval folklore to know that the source of the magic is usually the key to its reversal. We have to go to Barton Chapel and touch that tablet again. And if I'm right, we'll be back in the future in time for lunch."

Noah nodded, not needing much persuasion to believe that Luke was right. "Let's get going then."

Luke straightened the saddle on Salamander and asked, "Will you be okay riding pillion behind me? I'll hold the reins and we won't go too fast. This antique saddle isn't what I'm used to, but it's long enough for two and you should be quite comfortable."

Laughing to steady his nerves, Noah joked, "I'm putting my life in your hands, Snyder."

Luke looked straight into his eyes and said earnestly, "You'll be fine, Noah. Trust me, okay?"

"Okay," Noah said, immediately feeling calmer. Then a worrying thought struck. "Wait, should we be seen together? I supposedly work for the Sheriff and you're supposedly an outlaw. What if someone stops us before we get to the Chapel?"

"You're not in your constable's uniform," Luke pointed out. Noah was wearing a simple shirt and trousers, garments much like those worn by many of the menfolk in Nottingham town.

"I'm not on duty until after I get to Edwinstowe," Noah explained. "But I think some people might still recognize me as the Deputy, even when I'm out of uniform."

"But apparently nobody will recognize me when I'm not in Robin Hood drag. You remember all those fantastic stories about Robin Hood being a master of disguise? Well, basically he puts on a different shirt and changes his tights. I'm not even kidding. It seems nobody recognizes Robin or any of the Merry Men if they're not wearing green. Which is why I'm wearing these."

Luke was in the clothes he wore two days ago when they arrived here in the 14th century; a brown tunic tucked into gray trousers. They were plain and did not call attention to the wearer. Noah recalled how Alan-A-Dale had been dressed, all in green from head to ankle. That outfit might serve as camouflage in the forest, but would stick out like a sore thumb in the town.

"I hate to be a negative Ned, but that's kinda of flimsy as a disguise," Noah said.

"I come prepared! Behold!" From the bag slung over his shoulder, Luke produced a crumpled cloth cap. He waved it with an exaggerated flourish, before putting it on his head. It covered all of his golden hair and the peak shrouded most of his face in shadows.

"That would work," Noah agreed. "Maybe Robin should take disguise lessons from you."

"I'm glad you approve. Come on, it's time we get this show on the road. Barton Chapel awaits us."

Luke mounted Salamander first, with the easy grace of someone who had grown up around horses. After two abortive attempts, Noah managed to seat himself on the horse behind Luke and they set off on their journey.

After two minutes of slow-trotting, Luke ascertained that Noah was comfortable and they picked up speed. Soon, they were moving at a gentle gallop. The clip-clopping of Salamander's hoofs on the ground was too loud for conversation and so they rode in companionable silence. Noah's hands were holding onto Luke's waist and his chest was pressed against Luke's back. It was contact borne of necessity, Noah sternly reminded himself.

They rode past dozens of people but nobody seemed to recognize them. From a distance away, they could see the outline of Nottingham Castle rising above the trees and the roofs of the township. When the imposing facade of the Castle loomed into closer view, Noah squinted and tried to find the much smaller Barton Chapel at the foot of the fort. At first he could not see it because he did not know quite where to look. This area was very different from what it would be in the future. But then he saw a barn-like structure with a arched stone doorway. It was Barton Chapel.

They dismounted and Luke left Sally to graze on a garden patch outside the Chapel. As they approached the front door, Noah was suddenly nervous.

"Luke? This will work, won't it?"

"It's the best bet we have." Luke smiled, but his voice was brittle and Noah knew that he too was feeling anxious.

The chapel was unoccupied and the interior was almost identical to how it would be in the future. The King's coat of arms hung from the east wall and the pews and pulpit were as Noah remembered. It was only three days ago when he was last here, he realized with astonishment. Three days or seven hundred years, depending on how he counted it.

They immediately went to the north wing. The differences here were more pronounced. The wall in the 21st century was fully covered with stone tablets. Here in the past, only the left half of the wall was occupied. Noah went immediately to tablet number thirty-two. And then he stopped breathing.

Save for the inscribed number and two unfamiliar names, tablet thirty-two was an expanse of bare, sanded stone. There was no "Luke Snuythur" nor "Noah Maier" to be seen. It was as if they had been erased from history. Noah touched the cold smooth surface and nothing happened.

"What does this mean?" Luke asked in a strangled voice.

"I don't know," Noah answered helplessly. He turned to Luke and saw that Luke's reaction mirrored his own; deflated and discouraged.

"Do you think we changed history when we came here? That our presence here means that the Luke and Noah of this century were never born? But that doesn't make any sense. We're living their lives, so they have to exist. Don't they?"

"I don't know," Noah repeated hollowly.

"Maybe they do... did exist," Luke persisted with his theorizing, "but not anymore. When we came here, their time-line got tangled up with ours. Maybe we've replaced them, maybe we're not just living their lives but taking over the course of their lives." He stopped and took a shaky breath. Very slowly, he continued, "If that's how it works, it means that we're stuck here..."

They looked at each other, the fear in Luke's eyes reflecting the sinking feeling in Noah's stomach.

"...permanently," they finished together.

***



Continue to Chapter 3