Shield of Three Lions (60 page)

Which made me angry. “I fought to protect my heart and chest-spoon as I was instructed. ’Twould not hurt you to learn the same lesson!”

“No offense, Lord Alex.” He touched my arm lightly. “Perhaps ’twould be more honest to say I recognized a fellow female, for I, too, dress as a boy to ride with the men.” And he stripped off a tunic to reveal himself a woman.

I must have looked as ridiculous as I felt, for the wench couldn’t stop laughing, especially at my gauche study of her torso. Soothly her breasts were small knotty muscles, nothing like the swellings on my own chest, and I marveled anew at the variety of shapes the body could assume, recalling the naked witches in Paris.

“Would you like to borrow a tunic?” she asked again.

“Aye, I believe I would, thank you.”

“Ah, here’s your bath. Soak as long as you like, and I’ll bring appropriate garb.”

“Does Robin Hood know?”

“Of course. That’s why you rode without blindfold. He’s ever chivalrous to the fair sex.”

She admitted two varlets with a wooden tub of steaming water, then ran down the steps after them, leaving me alone. I sank into the luxuriant suds, dazed at this turn of events. So my suspicions had been wrong. But wait! That hand under my seat had been no error. Robin Hood knew I was a woman, that was all.
Benedicite
, I wished I
were
a boy! No, for then I’d be a captive swordsman. Unless … more and more frightening. What were the brigand’s intentions? And what was the role of this boyish girl?

She was back, already dressed herself in a soft green gown laced with gold, and with a similar one in her hands for me. Late-afternoon twilight entered the upstairs window and shone on her face. In boy’s garb and from a distance, she appeared very young, for her body was straight and hard, her face clean-jawed and alert. When I perceived her close and as a woman, however, I noticed crinkles at the outer edges of her eyes, a slight discoloration of her teeth, and realized she was in her late twenties, not young at all. Also, she made a handsome boy, a plain woman. Her brown hair and eyes, sunburnt skin, extra-wide mouth and square chin were engaging, but not feminine. I took all this in at a glance, while she studied me with the same curiosity.

“Your skin glows as if there were a fire behind it,” she observed. “How do you keep it so bright when exposed to wind and sun?”

Soothly I didn’t know.

“And your hair.” She fingered my wet locks. “Spun gold and silver combined. Your eyes are luminous as jewels. Do you have some magic elixir you could share?”

I heard the note of envy, though ’twas more sad than bitter, and shook my head. “No need, My Lady, for you are an elf from fairyland yourself.”

She brightened. “Do you think so? Robin assures me, but I feel alone without women and it’s been so long …”

She then recounted her most odd story. She was Lady Marian Fitzwalter of Arlington Castle, only child and heiress to her estate. She had fallen desperately in love with Lord Robert Fitzooth of Locksley a champion of justice for all. King Richard had called him the most noble lord in all England for his chivalry, and rewarded him with the earldom of Huntingdon. Richard, alas, then went to Jerusalem and his brother Count John promptly stripped Richard’s men of their honors. In defiance, Robert became Robin Hood, and formed his own nation in the forest, dispensing the king’s justice, robbing from the bloated rich and giving to the deserving poor. Marian, too, had defied her father, forsworn her inheritance, and followed Robin to his woodsy lair.

I listened to this fantastic tale, astonished and dismayed. Naturally I knew naught of Arlington Castle or Count John, but I did know about the Earl of Huntingdon. I had been in Chinon when King Richard signed the order making David, brother to the King of Scotland, the Earl of Huntingdon. I’d heard it from both Enoch and Richard. Had Robin managed to deceive poor Marian? Or was she trying to impress me?

But that wasn’t all.

“Robin and I want to marry, but above anything we worship Richard and Mary.”

“Mary who?” I asked, not following her reasoning.

“Why, the Virgin Mary! We’ve built an elaborate chapel in Her honor and say Mass twice daily.”

“Of course, I see. Only what does this have to do with Richard or marriage?”

I could barely see her flush in the fading light. “Robin and I have taken the vow of chastity until the king’s return. Then and then only will we wed. Thus I am known as Maid Marian.”

And should be titled “Made” Fool, I thought, remembering Robin’s insidious hand. The Earl of Huntingdon who’d taken the vow of chastity and gave to the poor—though his own tables groaned with gleaming silver—and was “chivalrous” to all ladies. Poor credulous Marian. How could she be so old, yet so naive?

By now I was dressed in my tunic, crowned with a gold braid, and I stood before a cloudy mirror to study the effect.
Benedicite
, I didn’t recognize myself in the glowing curving creature before me, as if I’d been touched by a wand.

“How did you serve King Richard?” Maid Marian asked from behind me.

I looked at my seductive image and considered rapidly. Either I would have to tell the truth, or render some fantastic tale such as she had told, or create a falsehood which would nevertheless seem closer to reality. I decided to protect the king by the latter course.

I sighed deeply. “We loved each other passionately, Maid Marian, even though it was against his purpose in Jerusalem, against God. We couldn’t help ourselves.”

Her dimples showed. “Please tell me all, and I promise to be discreet. I, too, love the king and need to know for my own future bliss …”

Perhaps she was convinced of my invention because she was so sheltered, but I believe I told a good tale besides. The yearning and passion were easy, just a slight exaggeration of the truth. When it came to our bedding together, I started with our assignation in the tent and ended with what I’d seen Enoch do over the years. ’Twas I who groaned under Richards weight, that was all.

Tears trembled on her lashes. “How could you ever say goodbye?”

“He couldn’t bring himself to expose me to the dangers of the desert,” I lied glibly, then permitted a significant pause. “In any case, ’twas not goodbye, but farewell. You are not the only person awaiting his return to England.”

Which I thought was a nice touch, just in case her nefarious Robin Hood had any intentions of detaining me.

“I will tell him we met you,” she declared, “when he attends our wedding. Oh, Lady Alix, perhaps you will attend as well.”

I refrained from smiling, poor wench.

We then descended to the great hall to meet with Robin and his men. Robin stood courteously as Maid Marian presented me by my true name, adding only “beloved lady of King Richard.” I winced at her openness, at the same time that I noted Robin’s appreciation of my exposed neck. Indeed, all the thieves leered and made me wish for my boy’s braies again.

The dinner was suspiciously succulent, and I wondered again at the “poor” who benefited from Robin’s good works. Maid Marian and I sat on each side of her love, while the other men ate at our table with no distinction in rank that I could see. Marian had identified the prelate as Friar Tuck, and he led the questions about the Crusade with a Little John and Will Scarlet close behind. Robin, oddly enough, showed little interest in his king, but a great eagerness to impress me by his own exploits. He recounted incident after incident—all the same, all to his own glory—which I must relay to the king. I quickly grew weary of the man’s braggadocio and paid more attention to his manner toward Marian.

’Twas sadly lacking in courtesy and affection. If he cherished her at all, ’twas as a loyal audience, for she kept goading him to remember this event or that. Weary, I announced that I must retire.

“Not before you tell us where you travel and why,” the unperturbed Robin said.

“To Durham to see Bishop Hugh, Earl of Northumberland,” I answered coldly. “I have a writ from the king which the earl will enforce through the Assize.”

Robins black eyes twinkled wickedly. “Except that your king neglected to inform you that Hugh is no longer Northumberland.”

“What?” I was so astounded that I sat again. “Is he dead?”
Benedicite
, my worst fear come true, that the old bishop would expire before I could reach him, that Enoch would become Northumberland.

“He’s alive and fighting,” Friar Tuck continued. “Hugh won’t recognize the king’s brother as archbishop, so the king stripped Hugh of his powers. However, the wily bishop refuses to renounce the title, though I believe he no longer calls the Assize court.”

And I took wanhope. Better that no one rule Northumberland than that Enoch assume power. Aye, a limbo of jurisdiction might yet benefit my cause.

“If you need help, I could ride with my men,” the oily Robin offered.

And siege a castle with a ragged group of archers? Conquer Enoch when he arrived? O’ercome a Scottish army led by a brute waving his odious writ? I carried Roderick’s garnet ring as my writ which I’d been sure would be persuasion enough for Northumberland. Now I must discard this plan and go to my second scheme, more chancy by far.

“I take it that the Assize doesn’t meet then.”

No, they concurred.

“Are there any lesser courts in the region?” I asked the bloated priest who seemed a cut above his peers in intelligence.

“Local moot courts do such business as there is,” he said, “though their strength varies from place to place, depending on how angry the people be. Those under bad lords, or under Count John, have little stomach these days for laws.”

I remained standing, lost in thought, until Maid Marian asked me gently if she could show me to my quarters. I thanked her and bade Robin and the others good night.

“I hate to leave you here with the animals,” Marian said later as we stood in the stable.

“I’m used to it, and it’s warm. Thank you for the tunic.” I handed her her robe, having dressed in my male attire once more.

“Please keep it for remembrance. And, Alix, may I ask you a great favor?”

“Anything at all.” Poor wretch.

“Will you come stand with me on my wedding day?”

“I promise, God make it soon.” God make it at all.

“Amen to that.”

I gave her instructions of how she might find me and we kissed goodbye. I then stretched out on clean straw piled by the wall and began to scheme. All my hopes for Hugh of Northumberland were now dashed—what could I do? A twofold problem: to unseat Roncechaux; to find a legal claim superior to Enoch’s royal writ. My brain grew weary.

I was wakened by Thistle’s whinny and saw a shadow against the open arch. I took my father’s dagger in readiness.

“Lady Alix, don’t be afraid.”

Robin Hood!

What to do? I didn’t want to kill the rogue, which would invite certain death for me, yet I suspected his intentions. He sat beside me where I now crouched on my knees.

“Maid Marian has confided your great love,” he said thickly. “Tell me, do I remind you of the king?”

“The king …”

“Aye.” He reached forth and took my free hand. “I thought that if you pined for him, I might give you solace.”

I could feel his hot breath on my cheek and leaned back. “No, thank you anyway. I’ve resigned myself to being alone.”

“Nonsense, your kind is never alone.” Before I knew what he was about, he’d wrested my dagger from me. “We’d be a good pair, sweet-cuds, both in bed and in the field. Swordplay in both places.”

“What about Marian?”

“She’d be delighted. The poor wench is lonely and needs a friend.” Without further ado, he locked me with one arm while that active hand reached under my tunic and found my nipple.

“No! …” And I was smothered by his lips as he pressed me into the straw, his hand working feverishly, his mouth sucking like a man dying of thirst, his legs pushing my knees apart. ’Twas so swift and expert that I thought I was lost.

Then his lips descended to my nipple as if to satisfy their thirst there, and at least my mouth was free.

“Stop! Oh please, stop! King Richard will never forgive you if you kill it!”

His head rose. “It?”

“I carry his babe in my womb, only no one must know. Our son will be heir to the crown—already pronounced so by Richard—and Count John would murder me if he knew. Don’t harm England’s hope, I beg you.” And I broke into racking sobs.

He rolled off me carefully and straightened my garments in the dark. “Tell the king his secret is safe with Robin Hood,” he said fervently. “I misread you, My Lady. I thought you were a camp follower of the king.”

Quickly I rose, my fingers once more entwined about my dagger.

“I’ll return you to the priests in the morning.” And he left me alone, but not to sleep more that night, for my heart beat in my ears like a drum.

NEVER WAS ANYONE more relieved than I was to rejoin Father Thaddeus at dawn the next day; his manner might be brusque, but it was honest. With unspoken consensus, we moved as rapidly as we could to get away from Nottingham and Sherwood Forest with its dangerous inhabitants. Again we were forced to sleep outside, but at least I needn’t fear a hot-tongued varlet stealing into my bed. Except that I had a dream.

In my dream I again stood by the lighthouse on the Straits of the Far with Enoch and Richard, only Richard held the falcon he’d taken from the peasant and the Scot held a huge white swan. The iron-eyed
king cut a circle in the stones with his spur and set his falcon in the center. “I challenge your swan!” he cried. “Let the birds fight and winner take all!” And so the two feathered beasts were placed on the ground, the falcon with his tufted feet and small glinting eyes, the swan crouched low with breast outthrust, head curved back, and soon they were twisted in knarls of bloody feathers, screaming and hissing when a beak went home, and in a short time the swan was victorious. The king picked up the carcass of his bludgeoned bird and without a word faded into the elements. Smiling grotesquely from his blue face, Enoch pushed me with the huge white fowl. Instantly the beak and feet disappeared in a cloud of downy softness as I was embraced by the beast. Yet one part remained hard, for I was simultaneously penetrated in a sharp hot stab that made me cry aloud. Astounded by my own keen joy, I rocked with the bird, warm, secure, thrilled, praying my dream would go on forever.