Everliving Kings (the Heroes of Darkness Saga) (12 page)

Brewer cocked his head sideways saying, “Perhaps, but we also have the Bishop who will back your word, as well as I will
. And your…lady in waiting,” he said with a nod and a gesture towards Julnar. “Who saw Lord Rathbone when he was meeting with those criminals in the forest. We now know those men are capable, ruthless and willing to kill the King’s men and steal tax money from the crown.”

Anya laughed at him saying, “And you are not? I can still smell the fresh blood on you Sheriff. Oh don’t be too concerned about it, I don’t care whom you have to eliminate to get what you want, I would do no less. But if we are going to work toget
her we need to at least agree on targets before we pick them off. Now as for this Prince of yours, are you sure you need to rid yourself of him? Would it not be easier to let him be the usurper and manipulate him for your own gain? At least at first?”

The Sheriff frowned as if he had not thought of that strategy. “Well I suppose I could try to get him to overthrow his brother, name himself King and name me the
Lord Protector. I will try to get a feel for his thoughts on such a plan when he arrives, but I would still like to prepare in the event he disagrees.”

“Agreed. You will need to make it seem as if it is his idea or he may resist, so you will need to tread carefully. As for Sir Robert, are you sure he won’t be of any help to us? I could try to talk to him again.”

Brewer stretched his back before rising from his seat and pacing about the room. “Well for now it would be best if he just stays out of the way, we can deal with him and his…moral dilemmas later. Which reminds me.” He said with a snap of his fingers. “I do need a favor of you. You may consider it a wedding gift I would most appreciate. Sir Robert’s father is still in the Holy Lands, I was hoping your Assim friends might pay him a visit?”

Anya turned her head to one side with a loud cracking sound, before turning her gaze his way once more. “And what would the Assim gain from this? They do not kill simply because they can; they kill to gain an advantage over their enemies. While it is true my words carry some weight with them, they must still have a motive to risk their people.”

The Sheriff paused in his pacing as he considered the Risen girl’s words. “Sir Robert of Huntington is the Lord Protector of the Realm; King Richard’s most trusted advisor, and provincial governor of Acer…the one who gave the order for the massacre of over two thousand Muslim men women and children. Surely that would be worth something to Saladin and the Assim. I can provide you with royal documents that would get any spy into Richard’s own kitchen with a pat on the back.”

Julnar and Anya exchanged glances of su
rprise. “Yes, that may be enough for them to act, but they do not necessarily care for Saladin.” Anya agreed. “And what of Sir Robert, Sheriff? If you plan on assassinating his father you will make an enemy of him for life. Are you sure that is the best course to follow?”

Brewer paused in his thoughts as he caught something in her tone of voice. “I did not know the young man made such an impression on you my l
ady, are you leaning towards mercy?”

Anya could not help but smile, “No, but som
ething about the boy is… I am not sure yet Sheriff, but something is telling me young Robert is far more dangerous then you are giving him credit for; that much I am sure. I just don’t know why I feel that way.” She said with the shake of her head.

The
Risen girl’s warning sent a chill down Sheriff Brewer’s back.

13

The travelers broke through the tree-line into the tiny village with two of their number bound and hooded. Being unable to see
passed the burlap sack on his head, the larger of the two captives lost his footing and fell flat onto his belly with an audible “Oooff.”

“All right that’s enough of that! Take the bloody things off of them!” the group leader shouted as the portly
prisoner was helped back to his feet. Once the sacks were removed, Sir Robert and Brother James traded glances to check on one another.

“Well good friends,” the red bearded leader of the group said as he stepped in front of them, “We
lcome to Wickham. Now please understand,” he said as he pulled a long dagger from his belt, “We don’t get many visitors out ‘ere…so we hasta’ be a bit…careful.”

He grinned as he inspected the naked blade, “First the Friar.” He giggled as his eyes flashed wide.

Brother James stiffened his back as he waited to speed off to his eternal rest. To his surprise the woodsman used the dagger to cut the ropes binding his hands and not the ties to his life.

“What’s yer name holy man?”

The monk winced in pain as he rubbed his sore wrists. “James, you may call me Friar Tuck.” He said with a smile and a wink for Robert.

The woodsman stepped over to the young n
oble and undid his ropes as well saying, “And this of course is Sir Robin in the Hood!” he shouted as a small group of townsfolk approached the newcomers. “The first man I have seen stand up to Gisbon and the Sheriff’s goons! Ya see, we ain’t alone no more! It’s about time more folks was willing to face the land barons and give em’ what for! We all works hard to fill their plates an’ what do they do for us…nothing!” that brought out a few shouts of agreement from the growing little crowd.

Robert frowned in confusion and shouted out loud his question, “Don’t the barons provide all farmers their protection? Don’t they share all of the holy days with you by providing feasts and wines?”

One of the elderly townsfolk stepped forward and held up the stump of left arm. “Aye!! An took me left hand when I couldn’t afford to pay the King’s tax! Beg yer pardon Sir Robin but you don’t know how bad it’s been. Under Prince John our taxes has gone up almost double each harvest! An for what? All he does is hold big parties for his friends! When he did say he was trying to help the King, all e’ done is round up one son from each farm and march em’ off to the holy land!” At that the crowd around the man shouted in agreement.

“I ain’t seen me son in almost a year, same as all these folk,” he continued, “and we don’t even know if them boys is still alive!” once more the townsfolk agreed.

Robert and the Friar exchanged concerned glances, but before either of them could respond the woodsman spoke up again.

“Yes my friends explain it to them! But now that
Sir Robin is here, he will right the wrongs!” the crowd cheered and began to chant his name causing Robert to jump up onto a tree stump to be heard by all of them.

“Wait friends! Tell me true, have all of you su
ffered thus under Prince John and the Sheriff?” Roars of agreement washed over him until he raised his arms to quiet the crowd. “And you all came here to this village to escape the Sheriff’s men?” again the people around him agreed. Robert stepped down from the stump and looked to Friar Tuck saying “But what can I do?”

The leader of the woodsman smiled pa
ssed his beard and said, “My name is Angus, follow me Robin and I will take you to meet the Horned one, he will explain your destiny.” He emphasized that with a slap on the shoulder.

Robert and the good Friar followed
him out of the village and into a dark thicket of woods. The canopy of the forest grew so thick here they had to strain to see the path ahead in the dim sunlight. After many twists and turns they came at last to a waterfall rushing off of a high rocky bluff. They broke out of the tree line into the bright afternoon sun as the sound and spray of the waterfall danced all around them.

Angus leaned closer to Robert to be heard over the rumble of the water. “There is a cave hidden b
ehind the fall, go in there, he is waiting for you.”

Robert frowned at him, “Who is waiting? And how will he know who I am?”

Angus smiled and once more slapped him on the shoulder, “The Horned One, Pan, Cernuous, Herne, he as many names, what you call him will not mater. The only thing that matters is that you listen to both him and to yourself and then you will know what you have to do.”

Robert shook his head, “I am a Christian, not a Roman or a Saxon! I don’t believe in oracles or your woodland gods for that matter.”

Undeterred Angus pointed to the waterfall, “Then he is just an old man and you have nothing to fear. I am not asking you to forsake your God Robin; I am asking you to follow his will.”

Robert turned his gaze towards the Friar who just shrugged and made the sign of the cross, “Be protected Robert.”

The young noble shook his head and turned down the worn stone path that disappeared behind the waterfall.  

“Hello? Is anybody home?” he called out as the cave mouth loomed black as night before him. He could hear movement in the darkness echoing off of the age old stones.
“Hello?” he called again hoping a strange hermit and not a cave bear was the one making the noises. As he stood at the cave entrance wrestling with his nerves, he heard a mumbled word spoken by an unseen man just as a fire jumped to life illuminating the cave. Now he could see a figure in multiple animal skins seated by the fire that was now burning in a small natural crevasse on the back wall.

Without turning around the figure called out to him, “Come my friend, sit by the fire, I know you have many questions.

Robert shook his head and had to laugh at the man’s talent for understatement. “Well first of all…who are you?” the young man asked as he lowered himself onto a tree stump of a seat.

The scraggly bearded man looked at Robert and smiled, “Who do you think I am?”

Robert frowned back at the odd fellow, “Are you going to answer all of my questions with a question?”

At that the old man shrugged, “Oh I don’t know should I? Only the ones you a
lready know the answers to then?”

Robert took a deep breath to remain calm, “Look, the villagers here think you are some kind of forest god or something. You look more like a man to me.”

“Is that a question?” the hermit said as he raised his eyebrows.

Robert laughed at that, “So you are a wizard then? A practitioner of the dark arts? Is Merlin one of your names wizard?”

Now it was the old man’s turn to laugh, “That name! Oh no, I am not that one, though he and I are linked in a way, we are members of the same order you see.”

Robert snapped his fingers, “I knew it! You are a wizard after all! You keep your demons away from me wizard, I am not a violent man but I will defend myself if I
have to!”

The old man put his hands up to show he wanted no fight, “Easy my friend I mean you no harm. I am only a guide, a messenger if you will, from the divine source. Some have called us oracles, others gods,
Druids, witches or even prophets. What you decide I am is not important so long as you listen to my council.”

Robert waited but the hermit would not say an
ything more. “Your council? That’s it? What if after hearing what you have to say I chose to ignore your advice? What then?”

The old man chuckled to himself, “It is always that way. I have yet to meet a chord that listens the first time around.”

Robert frowned now even more confused than before he entered the cave. “Cord? What is a cord?”

The wizard laughed again and slapped the boy on the knee, “Why you are of course!
Look, all of us are…notes in the great cosmic song, but some people are far more than single notes to be drowned out in a crescendo. People like you are more like cords, you define the direction and tempo of the song and you can change the mood with an action…or an absence. Some people down through the ages have been called blessed, or cursed or even destined, although none of those words tell the whole story. A destiny for example is an unchanging path one cannot avoid, while that may be the case for some it does not fit you very well. Your choices are your own Robin, for good or for bad. You must be careful to know the weight of those choices. You have already changed the song with your recent actions and now the universe is aligning itself to follow your lead, your song.”

Robert threw up his hands
in disgust, “Impossible, I cannot be that important as to change the whole world at once!”

The Druid scratched his beard in thought, “Hmmm, let me put it another way, now you said you are a Christian yes? Good. Now tell me, did Jesus perform miracles during his life? Did he heal the sick and the blind with but a to
uch, raise the dead and speak with the plants and the animals? Was he a wizard?”

Robert protested, “That is not the same thing!”

Still the old man went on, “And did he not say that you and I and everyone else were able to do all of those things as well if we just had enough faith?”

This time Robert was forced to agree, “Yes I suppose so, but how would a pagan know so much about the
Lord?”

The Druid smiled and nodded again, “We r
espect your Jesus as one of the greatest of master teachers…just not the only one. If you would take the time to read your own holy book you will see he said as much himself. Now, back to the point, from where you are would you not say that the universe extends out in all directions? And this is so no matter where you go?”

“I suppose so.” Robert mumbled trying to fo
llow the man’s line of thought.

“And would you also agree that the universe extends in all directions without end from where I am?”

Robert shrugged and said “Ok.”

“And would you not agree the same must be said for every other person on earth?”

Robert paused in thought, “I suppose so but it sounds like a trick.”

“Yes it does at that,
” the Druid agreed with a nod of his head before continuing. “Now; if each point in the universe is the center of the universe then we have a problem, for how can it be? If every point is the same point then what is distance? A dream perhaps? Or perhaps each person is at the center of his own universe? These questions have been pondered and debated for all time, but what is important is to see how significant each and every person is, significant enough to rearrange and change the whole universe if he is in harmony with it. The universe has no extra parts, but at times a single note will lead. Do you understand?”

Robert frowned but could see the logic behind the old man’s explanation.
“But if each part is as important as the next, how can just one person become so important to change the whole? That sounds like a contradiction.”

The hermit smiled as he watched the young man ponder the greatest of mysteries, “No, control not importance. Every person is capable of changing the world to suit their needs, but some need less practice at it
and some are strong enough to do things most would consider impossible. This is the secret of the teachings of the masters like Jesus, and the basis for what we call magic. For example I can sense one who is with you who is very devout in his beliefs, that makes his ability to change the world that much stronger.” The old man paused and took a deep breath as if delivering bad news, “You Robin in the Hood, have a similar power.”

Robert frowned, “But why does everybody keep calling me that? My name is Robert not Robin, I thought at first it was because Angus got it wrong but now…” he let his words tail off with a shrug.

The old wizard took another deep breath before answering, “Robin in the Hood is the energy you need to change what you need to change. Names are songs in their own right with their own special powers; you have been given the chance to take on the mantle of Robin Hood. This is a Bards name with great power behind it; it will allow you to do things you could not do as Robert.” At that he paused and sat back with a shrug of his own. “It is up to you Robert of Huntington if you wish to take up the cause or ignore it. Another will one day be chosen if you do not but I don’t know how long that will take.”

Robert sat silent for a long while staring at the flames of the small fire. “If I do this I
will give up everything I have…my home, my family everything.”

The hermit nodded in agreement, “There must always be some sacrifice, that is the nature of change, but it has been my experience that more is always
gained than lost…change is also growth.”

Robert squeezed his eyes shut thinking of the faces of his family he was likely to never see again. When he opened his eyes he turned to the old man and said, “What must I do?”

“You must be re-born to the greenwood Robin of Sherwood, open your senses to the forest and trust your instincts. You will become Hearn’s son, his chosen sword arm. As I am his voice you will become his weapon to free the oppressed.” At that he began to chant in a strange language long lost to time, and Robert could not fight the urge to sleep.