Everliving Kings (the Heroes of Darkness Saga) (10 page)

11

Sir Robert of Huntington kicked out the last embers of the morning’s cook-fire and had to chuckle at the portly Friar to his left.

Brother James was busy shoveling the last bits of bacon in his mouth while trying to re-wrap his half eaten loaf of bread with the other hand.

“Well Brother James I dare say you do indeed live up to your nickname of Friar Tuck! You should eat slower lest you hurt yourself.” Robert laughed.

The good natured monk smiled back at the young noble before responding in mock offence, “But of course my boy, I was merely making sure I got anything the way you and Sir Guy attacked the breaking fast. You should both check your fingers for teeth marks!”

Sir Robert stood
again and stretched his back, “Speaking of Sir Guy, where did our noble protector disappear to this morning? I hope he has not gone back to the castle, we should be meeting up with Lord Rathbone today or tomorrow.”

Before the stout friar could respond, Sir Guy rode his horse into their camp flanked by several of his armored knights.

“Sir Robert! Brother James! Up, up! We must move out quickly! We were just attacked by bandits on the road! This forest is not safe to travel!” he shouted as he waved his hands about.

Sir Robert frowned at the fully armored noble in confusion, “Are you not the order and protection of these lands my
Lord? I find it hard to believe common thieves would not break and run from you and your men Sir Guy. Perhaps Brother Tuck and I could help you explain it to them.”

Guy frowned in thought before answering, “Well I…um…I suppose…I think that would be da
ngerous and after all I am charged with your safety.”

At
that Robert cut him off, “Oh yes your right! Well that settles it then, we simply must accompany you. After all you wouldn’t be doing your job if you let us out of your sight now would you?” he said as he finished with a wink for Friar Tuck.

“Oh, um…” Guy frowned once more weighing all angles as best he understood them. “Oh yes, well I suppose so. I imagine that would be fine, the Sheriff did not want you involved but since we only have one more stop to make I
suppose it would be fine.” Robert and the holy man exchanged a quick glance before Guy went on. “But if we do run into those bandits again I must insist you both stay behind my men for your own safety.”

Robert smiled and nodded his head, “Agreed.” He just did not feel the need to inform Sir Guy that the Simple country Friar with the overactive
appetite was also one of the finest swordsmen in all of Europe. As for Robert himself, he had shot a great yew bow before he could walk and had become a brilliant marksman.

As for Sir Guy’s secret mission, the large strongbox on the back of the plain looking ox cart was an obvious giveaway, taxes. Thinking back Ro
bert remembered overhearing the Sheriff and his brother discussing something about paying the French mercenaries, so perhaps this was the special job Guy had been given.

If so Robert was sure the Sheriff was looking to do far more than just protect the Lady Anya. Even with all of his promises and even a marriage proposal Robert was sure the Sheriff had not told them all of his plans. With an army of French knights at his disposal and the Prince Regent under his roof, he could easily enact a coup and name himself the new Regent.

With the Archbishop also on hand he could force Prince John into exile and perhaps even name his own brother as the new head of the church. True both of those moves would be risky; many nobles would side with the Prince simply to avoid a civil war. Perhaps Brewer was banking on the personal dislike for Prince John many of the Lords had, but still a risk.

As for the church it would be unlikely for Rome to approve any changes of power they did not have a personal hand in, especially with
Richard, the rightful King of England, off on a Holy Crusade in the Pope’s name. Would the Sheriff be willing to go that far to get what he wanted? If true then not only was the Lady Anya in danger but all of England was as well.

Robert continued to ponder the possibilities of both the Sheriff of Nottingham’s plans and the Lady
Vampire’s as well as they rode to their destination.

The
Risen girl had been pleasant enough so far, well
,
pleasant enough for a condemned soul trapped in a long dead corpse who fed on the blood of the living that is, but still her motives were her own. After all who could say what someone who had gone through so much would be thinking or planning. Robert thought the goodly Friar may have an insight he hadn’t thought of yet, and so asked him about it.

After a long pause in deliberation the friar took a deep breath to answer, “Well, to be quite frank Sir Robert, I
believe the young lady Anya to be an honest soul at heart.” He began, giving in to the illusion of her age. “If she wants something of you I dare say she will make it obvious. As for her companion, well I have not yet had occasion to speak with the lady Julnar as of yet, but her eyes seem to me to be both compassionate and honest. Perhaps in part due to her being a Muslim.”

Sir Robert frowned at the portly friar in conf
usion, “Don’t you mean in spite of her being a Muslim? After all we are at war with them are we not?” he asked shaking his head.

Brother James smiled at that and nodded his head, “Yes, I suppose so, but war is not a good judge of character I am afraid. I had occasion to speak at some length with several of their clerics in the Holy Lands and it would seem the Muslim and Christian faiths are more similar than one would think. In any case, I would stand by the word of the ladies…just pay attention. Anya will not lie but she may leave out some facts and let you make your own judgments.” He said with a shiver.

Before they knew it they had arrived at a well-kept but small farm. Sir Guy dismounted and shouted to be heard as he approached the stout little farmhouse. “HooLoo! Anyone about?”

A smallish man
with weathered skin came out of the farmhouse with his eyes as wide as wagon wheels. “My Lord Gisbon! How can I aid thee my Lord?” he stammered.

Sir Guy frowned down at the man and waved for his knights to approach. “You will pay the sum of ten florins tax to aid our good King Richard in the Holy Land.” He said in a flat tone as if it had been well rehearsed
... as it was.

The farmer shook his head in shock, “But mi
Lord! I don’t have ten florins! I…”

Sir Guy waved his hand towards the barn and the house signaling his men to enter and search for any stash of coins or valuables. “Well then,” Guy grumbled in annoyance, “You can pay with your hand for stealing from your King!”

“But mi Lord, we paid our taxes! We only have a small bit of our harvest left to sell and trade! Please mi Lord I beg your mercy!” the farmer whimpered passed the sounds of crashing from the farmhouse.

One of the soldiers ducked out of the house and approached Sir Guy saying, “Eight coppers mi Laird, tis all we found in the house.” He said as he handed a small pouch to Sir Guy.

The farmer, watching as Guy stuffed the pouch into his belt, stood wide eyed and shaking with his mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water.

“Search the barn as well if they have grain that may cover it.” Guy said ignoring the protests of the farmer.

“All that there in the barn is all we gots left! Don’t go to harvest for the rest for another month or so mi Lord; growin’s been slow this year it has!” the farmer tried again. “Mi Lord we will starve til’ then an’ then we won’t survive the winter!”

Sir Guy shrugged, “Yes well I am sure the King will appreciate your sacrifice. Load up the cart lads!”

Sir Robert, now off of his horse, stepped forward to intervene. “Wait! Sir Guy, what are you doing?”

Guy frowned at him in confusion, “Collecting taxes of course. Why?”

“But this man said he already paid his King’s tax, didn’t you?”

The farmer nodded in agreement hoping b
eyond hope Sir Robert could help him. “Yes mi Lord, first o’ spring same as always. T’was Sir Guy himself what came by to collect it but then it were only six guinne!”

Sir Guy flashed a smile as his memories r
eturned to him, “Ah yes, I recall that! Your wife made me sweet cakes that day. Best I ever had I can tell you that, you know the chief at the castle always makes them too dry, well thank you again.” He said as he turned back to his horse.

Robert put a hand on Guy’s shoulder to stop him. “Wait Sir Guy! This is wrong! These people are loyal subjects of the King, doesn’t that count for something?”

“Yes,” Guy said with a smile, “Eight copper and two sacks of grain.”

“No Sir Guy, I mean don’t you think they d
eserve some respect as subjects of the King?”

Guy looked from the friar to Robert and back again now confused as to what the noble was trying to say.

“Look,” Robert tried again, “They are the King’s subjects yes?” Guy nodded in agreement. “So don’t they have any rights to better treatment? You protect the King’s deer don’t you?”

“Oh yes, killing the King’s deer is illegal.” Guy blurted out.

“Well why do the deer have more rights than the farmers?”

“Because they are peasants?” Guy asked.

“Well don’t you think that is wrong?” Robert shouted.

Guy nodded again, “Yes.”

“So…” Robert waited but Sir Guy could not grasp Sir Roberts view point. “What does that tell you?”

“It tells me I am glad I’m not a peasant?”

“No Guy! I mean what does it say about the King?”

“It’s good to be the King?”

“No!”

“It isn’t?”

“No Guy! Well yes it is but no that is not what I
meant!” Robert took a deep breath before trying again. “Do you know what the King wants this new tax for?”

Now Guy had to frown in thought before a
nswering, “Well he is in the Holy land…Oh I know! It must be expensive over there! Perhaps he found something he wants to buy.”

Robert shook his head in frustration, “Sir Guy who ordered you to collect this tax?”

“The Sheriff did of course.”

“And…” once more Guy stood wide eyed and expectant but could not finish Robert’s thoughts.

“Don’t you think this tax is for the Sheriff?”

At that Guy smiled, “Oh well yes
of course it is, so he can give it to Prince John, who will send it to the King in the Holy Land.”

“Guy don’t you think
the Sheriff wants to keep any of this tax money for himself?

“Well that would be silly he is not in the Holy Land.”

Robert threw up hands in exasperation, “Sir Guy of Gisbon, you are supposed to protect these people!” He shouted causing Brother James to step up behind him and place a hand on his shoulder in concern.

“I do protect these people!” Guy shouted back now starting to get annoyed at Roberts line of que
stioning.

“But you are robbing them blind! Can’t you see that? The Sheriff is the threat here and you are helping him! Are you a criminal Sir Guy?!” Robert pleaded with him.

“No! Of course not!” guy yelled back.

“Then help this man! Give him back his grain so that he and his family will survive the winter to pay the Kings tax again next spring.”

Gisbon frowned in concern and looked to the farmer, “Is that what you want? Do you want your grain back?” he asked.

The farmer almost fell over in relief, “Oh yes
mi Lord very much so!”

Gisbon shrugged and waved back at his men, “Ah
, well if that is what you wish. Put it back boys.” To the farmer he asked, “Do you have a cook fire burning?”

The farmer smiled in response, “Oh yes mi
Lord! We would be happy to make you some sweet cakes for the road!”

Gisbon’s eyebrows went up in surprise, “Well that would be very kind of
you, but I just meant you will need it to stop the bleeding.” With that he waved to his men once more, who grabbed the farmer and dragged him over to a nearby tree stump.

“Gisbon wait! What are you doing?” Robert shouted in horror.

“The Sheriff was very clear, they pay in coin, they pay in grain, or they pay with a hand. He said he wants to keep his grain and he had no coin to speak of so…” he said with a shrug and a nod towards his men.

The farmer shouted, “Mercy my
Lord! Please I beg of you!”

Sir Guy let his shoulders slump just a bit b
efore shouting, “Oh very well, show him mercy boys, take the left hand not the right.”

Robert acted without thinking by diving on the man with the axe just as he raised it over his head. The two rolled about on the ground until the guard got a free hand on the cloak Robert was wearing and pulled the hood down over his eyes to gain an a
dvantage. As he reared back to strike, a yew shaft slammed into his back piercing his armor. He let out a grunt of surprise as blood flowed out of his mouth and he fell over dead. The other guardsman leaped into action as one of them shouted “Bandits!”