The Friar's Tale, стр. 50

No, it was something else. Had Will and Clorinda been recognized? The ripple of emotion and movement had not started near the horse trading pens. Nor did it seem to come from the flocks of geese that now squabbled.

No. It came from...this way. As if pushing against a tide, Tuck made his way towards whatever was causing such a disturbance. It might have been a fight. There were enough drunks there.

Then he saw it. From one of the trees at the edge of the fair somebody had hung an effigy. It was suspended from a gallows noose, and was a poor quality job, stuffing escaping in places.

But it wore the colors of Guy Gisborne.

People had moved back from the effigy, as if it carried a poison with which they dared not risk being contaminated. Rightly so. Somebody would hang for this, and Tuck doubted the men would care if they got the right man.

Or kid. The amateurish effort, and the very style of it, struck him as something done by apprentices or novices. Apprentices, more likely. Or perhaps...no. He had left that boy in the greenwood. And he was more mature than most his age, aged by hardship and responsibility. Sometimes, Tuck thought, boys needed hardship.

The whisper that went through the crowd, though, had Robin's name in it. Tuck shook his head. Robin taking credit or blame for things he had not done was one thing, but this? This was unprofessional. However, he could not correct them without risking being the one hauled in. His friar's robes might or might not protect him.

"Is that supposed to be Guy Gisbourne?" came a voice from nearby.

"I think so." Tuck turned slightly, to see the man who had spoken. Norman, with an aquiline nose and dark, piercing eyes. He looked almost like the king, he thought, but smaller and thinner. It was not, of course. No noble or royal would be in a place like that without either an entourage or a far better disguise.

"Somebody needs to learn to draw, then."

Tuck was inclined to agree, but he shook his head. "Somebody is going to end up like that effigy."

"True." The man let out a breath. It was clear he wanted to say something else, but could not or dared not.

Tuck was out of words too. Any hint that he thought Gisbourne deserved this treatment would get him arrested. He suspected half the crowd would agree with him.

The mood was likely to go from tense to truly ugly any second. He started to disentangle himself, moving laterally through the crowd, keeping one eye on the dangling form. At least it was only an effigy...they had not grabbed one of Gisbourne's soldiers. For whom Tuck felt a certain sympathy. Even the ones who were not levied had little freedom to seek other employment. Of course, some of them seemed to enjoy the excesses.

He thought of the cowardly tax collector. Then the crowd surged. First towards the effigy, almost carrying him with them.

He used his staff to clear himself a bit of room, carefully. He did not want to hurt any of these people, but he was not about to allow them to trample him.

He had seen people die that way, and as the mood became uglier, he knew some would right now. Today.

People were going to die, and there was nothing he could do. Well, he could do one thing. He scooped up a small child in one arm, carrying her clear of the melee. There was no sign of her mother.

She was the only one he could help. The only one. He set her down at the edge of the riot, then looked back towards it. It had just become a roiling mass of people. At least few or none of them carried blades. Chances were there would be a lot of injuries, relatively few deaths.

The girl, Saxon blonde, looked up at him trustingly. Her mother was somewhere in that mess, he had no idea where. It was, at least, not spreading further. Sensible people had got out of the area.

Sensible people. Now there was something he was not, would not be for a long time coming. Had he ever been?

He thought not, with some amusement. Well. Not his problem. None of it was his problem, per se. Except the girl, now. Well. When things settled down, she would point out her relatives to him. He would get her home.

Then he would get out of there, find Will and Clorinda and leave.

The effigy had been torn down.