The Friar's Tale, стр. 29
Far larger, but not as pleasant. Then again, there was a wealth in silver and silk and spices out there. Enough for the younger sons who had nothing to inherit.
Nothing would satisfy the likes of Gisbourne. At least the King went on Crusade out of avoidance, not greed. Of course, then he demanded John send him funds. Weapons, men, horses. They'd be better off acquiring horses from the Saracens. "Gisbourne is running things into the ground."
"That he is," Robin murmured. "But here they come."
Hoofbeats did, indeed, echo through what passed for a street. Robin and Tuck had positioned themselves at one side of the desultory village green. Even the tree in the center of it seemed tired and wan.
The knights who rode in were well-equipped and well-mounted. Better than Tuck had expected. He had thought the sheriff would use the dregs to quell people such as this, and then he realized Gisbourne himself rode with them, on a fine palfrey.
A dog padded over towards them, thin and with visible teats. One of the knights dropped his lance butt next to her, and she yelped and trotted away.
At least he had not actually hit the creature. Tuck gave him a few points for that. A man who would beat animals was one step from beating, say, his wife.
He thought with amusement about what would happen if anyone tried to beat Clorinda. Of course, a lot of people felt a man had a right to beat his wife. She was only a woman. Three women, speaking of that, came out of one of the houses.
"Where are your menfolk?"
"In the fields, sir," one of them said, dropping a relatively neat curtsey.
It was Gisbourne himself who spoke, his dark Norman features seeming to darken further as he regarded the woman. "Ah. Yes. Well, then, I will just have to deal with you. You have not paid the levy."
The woman made frightened gestures towards the village. "We don't have it, my lord."
"We'll see about that."
He would take it in whatever coin he could find, Tuck knew. He felt his hands tighten on his staff. It seemed that every day something happened to make him more and more angry with these people. What happened to Christian charity?
The woman's face was thin and drawn, and so pale she looked like a great lady who never stepped outside, not a peasant.
She was perhaps afraid they would take coin in the form of her and her body. He had heard of that happening. Rare, but it occurred. Of course, it occurred far more in the Holy Land, where the woman might, after all, get a child of Christendom out of the deal. Of course, nobody asked the woman what she thought about it.
Gisbourne was ordering his men to dismount and secure their horses. They would take anything of value, leaving these people with nothing. Tuck had seen it before.
The difference was that this time he did not plan on standing and watching.
Wait, though. Wait until they...yes. One of them was pushing past the woman into her house. She made a token effort to stop him, not wanting the contents of her pantry to be ravaged. Another was coming right towards Tuck and Robin.
"A friar, eh? You are free to go, but your friend must remain."
Levy could be taken in labor, too. Labor, of course, that the village likely needed itself, and it was not as if they would be fed. Supposedly they were paying for Gisbourne's protection. Who would protect them from Gisbourne?
The king. But John did nothing, seldom left his castle, and Richard would likely never set foot on England's turf again.
"I'm not leaving."
"Suit yourself," the soldier said, stepping towards Robin. "Can you shoot, Yeoman?"
A light came into Robin's eyes. "I would bet I can shoot better than your commander."
Tuck hid a smile. It was likely Clorinda could beat them in a fair contest, let alone Robin. The only one who would have no chance against them was Tuck himself.
"Ah, and what would you bet?"
"If I win, you take no levy here. Honestly, what do these people have? If you win, then the levy includes my service for a year."
Gisbourne, stepping over. He had overheard. "This peasant thinks he can beat..."
"I think I can beat every man you have brought with you, in fair trial. Standard distance and target."
Gisbourne looked at Robin and laughed. "Well, perhaps he will be good enough to be useful. And we are not even getting entertainment here."
Tuck let out a breath. If he had to rescue Robin because of this stunt...when they had enough men hidden to rob Gisbourne back...
Well, that also meant they had enough men hidden to welsh on the bet if needed.
The men were already moving to set up a target on the rather sorry green. Villagers poured out of their houses. They might be on the verge of losing whatever they had left and starving until the crops came in, but this was still entertainment.
Robin blew on his arrows.
"You had better know what you are doing, my friend."
The first of the men was beaten easily, his arrow barely resting in the target. Robin put one in an inner ring over and over until only Gisbourne himself was left.
"Win or lose, it seems."
"I beat your men." Robin smiled.
"You have to beat all of us."
A nasty murmur went through the village. That had not quite been the terms, and they knew it.
Robin simply smiled and shrugged.
Gisbourne picked up his bow, lifted it, and fired. In an instant, Tuck realized he had misjudged the man.
It was a perfect shot. Allowing for all of the wind, and all of the air, and the arrow sailing through the air to strike the very center of the target. He lowered his bow. "Are you even