The Friar's Tale, стр. 68
Of course, nobody was that tall. Except possibly the legendary Goliath, and Tuck rather suspected that man's height had also been exaggerated in the retelling. Most likely he had simply been a very big man. Like John. Probably the same size. "A new Goliath, eh?"
"Yes, except this one seems to be working with David, not against him."
Tuck laughed. It was a great image...and one he definitely planned on sharing with Robin. "I heard there was a beautiful woman."
"Yes," the man agreed. "A truly lovely maiden, who fought as well as any man. I can only suppose she was the outlaw's lover."
Not quite right, but Tuck did not correct him. "And what else did you hear?"
"That they robbed the crowd blind before the attack and gave the money to those who needed it more."
Which was not exactly true. But it was true in the general, if not the specific. Tuck shook his head. "I'd bet they counted themselves in those who needed it more."
"Oh, probably. But it makes a better story."
It would become a minstrel's tale. Tuck wondered if any of their names would be right. Maybe Will could take care of that.
But, he also suspected that Clorinda would be the outlaw's lover. "Between you and me," Tuck whispered, starting to stand, "the only woman the outlaw loves is the Virgin." And then he left, before the man could realize who he was.
It was a dramatic gesture he quickly regretted. He had left almost an entire tankard of ale behind to make it.
Well, that was his own problem. But he had corrected one small detail...and he did not realize exactly how that part of the legend might spread.
Outside, he left the small village quickly. He could only get away with so much of that, and only get away with it at all because few looked past habit and tonsure to the face that belonged with them. Even if they did, they saw the friar...and Tuck wondered if his name would survive.
How had he ever got into this situation anyway? In his mind he heard feminine laughter. The Blue Lady.
She was laughing at him. He scowled. "Hey."
No. She was not laughing at him, she was laughing at the story. At the legend. At the image of John being ten feet tall.
Tuck grinned at that realization and set his feet back towards the Greenwood.
27
He did not get that far. Soldiers came from a side road, blocking his path. "Brother."
He sighed, showing them one empty hand, then freeing the other by leaning his staff against his shoulder. It was a classic gesture. It meant 'I might be armed, but I won't use it on you'. Not that he wouldn't if he had to.
If he had to. There were four of them, and well armed and armored. He was not sure he could defeat them. So, he stayed casual.
"What's your name, Brother?"
"Tuck."
"That's not a name."
Tuck grinned. "It's the one everyone knows me by." He paused. "Brother Joseph Francis."
"Why Tuck?"
Tuck slapped his belly. "Tuck in. It's been with me since I was a novice," he admitted.
"So. What do you know about outlaws?"
"That they get kind of annoying when I'm traveling alone." He tugged at his habit. "But they realize I have nothing worth stealing."
"Unless, of course, you stole it yourself."
Tuck remembered the unnamed lord in his tower. He wondered if the man was even still alive. He had not had much in the way of stores of food. "Why would I do that? Vow of poverty."
"Pheh. Like any abbot alive keeps that vow."
"I'm not an abbot. As long as I have food in my belly, a place to lay my head and a tankard of ale, I'm happy." Keeping as close to the truth as possible was, he knew, the best way to lie.
"Oh, let him go," one of the others said.
"What if he's the one who freed two murderers up in York? If he is, he's responsible for anyone else they kill."
Tuck managed to keep from flinching. The guard had spoken his own worst fears on the matter.
Not much he could do about that. "I'm not."
"But you know about it."
Tuck laughed. "Only the tavern tales...in which one of the outlaws was ten feet tall and another opened jail cell locks with a gesture."
The guard laughed. "I didn't hear that version. I heard the outlaw leader was a beautiful woman."
"See. Its impossible not to have heard about it." Tuck grinned. "I'm just a friar, you know. A little embarrassed by the entire thing, to be honest."
"I'd bet you are. The man's a disgrace to his order and should be defrocked."
"For that, somebody would have to find him." Tuck shrugged. "Short of arresting every friar in Nottingham..."
"We've considered that, but the Church would be on us like..."
Tuck shrugged again. "Am I free to go?"
They did not want to let him go. That much was clear. Perhaps he should vary things up by sometimes going abroad in normal clothing...except that he had worn his friar's robes for so long he would feel naked. Not himself. Empty.
Of course, he felt that a lot lately. But they were starting to move back. "Thank you."
Then he heard the rider behind him. "That's the one! The outlaw friar!"
Tuck turned. "What makes you think that?" But his heart sank. The man had been in the group of people in the inn.
He should have left the road sooner.
It was the second time he had been arrested under this suspicion. The difference was...this time they actually knew it was him. Or thought they did.
He wondered if he could change his appearance once he got out. That he would escape, he did not question. Robin would get him out.
Or, he would make the best of what he could do from inside. They had put him in a cell not so very different from the one he sometimes borrowed in the guest house of the Clares. Except for the fact that he was locked in, he could have imagined