Chapter 29
Eventually, we had no choice but to stop and ask for directions.
Neither of us truly knew this part of the country.
Baron had only traveled to Prince John’s castle twice in his life, the last time when he was barely ten years old, and every fork in the road felt like a gamble.
He insisted we were close, somewhere in the right vicinity, but “close” suddenly felt far too vague when every passing minute risked the sheriff’s men catching up to us. Why was it so hard to find a castle?
Just when I began to wonder if we’d have to risk going into town to ask for direction, we rounded a bend and spotted a small cottage with a distinctly pointed thatched roof.
A thin wisp of smoke curled from its chimney.
It was the first sign of life we’d seen in miles and unless we wanted to wander in circles until our pursuers overtook us, we needed help from whoever lived inside.
A skinny, knock-kneed farmer with a protuberant nose answered the door. As the door swung inward on its hinges, he squinted at us, holding a hand up to his weather-beaten face to shield the sun’s rays from his eyes.
“Who goes there?” he squawked, then noticed the weapons in our belts and hastened to throw his hands up in the air.
“I’s just a farmer, I is, good sir and miss.
I’s meaning no ‘arm, surely I ain’t. I ha’n’t never caused no ‘arm to no one! No ‘arm at all to no one in me entire life, I hasn’t! There’s no need for violence, if ye take me meaning, good sir and miss.
I ain’t got nothin’ of value nohow. I swear it on the lives of me sons, I do! ”
“We just need information.” Baron said. I thought he sounded mild, but the bass timbre of his deep voice only terrified the poor farmer more.
“I ‘asn’t done nofink wrong, I swear I ‘asn’t! Why, I was just sayin’ to me wife Tildy vis very mornin’, ‘Tildy, I’s a good upstanding citizen of vis fine country, I is!
’ And she right agreed wif me, good sir and miss, right agreed wif me!
I can fetch ‘er from milkin’ the cow, if ye want, and she will tell ye ‘erself! “
“Don’t bother,” I said crisply. “We just need to know—"
“Well you is in luck, you is, if you is needin’ any such informations that an upstanding citizen such as meself could provide.
I would be more’n ‘appy to oblige you, good sir and miss, more’n ‘appy to oblige. I’ve a mind like a steel trap, I has, mind like a steel trap!
” He tapped his forehead knowingly. I took a deep breath and released it slowly.
“We need to know if anyone has passed by here recently,” I said in a rush before the farmer could interrupt again.
“Passed by ‘ere? As in my ‘ome specially, or in the gen’ral area? Because I seen vem scoundrals pass by me fields just vis mornin’ I did, good sir and miss. Just right vis very mornin’.
I said to me wife Tildy, ‘Tildy, vem scoundrals be at it again, vey is!’ And ye know what she said back to me, she did? She said to me—”
“Stop!” I said, getting agitated now. “Stop talking.” Then slowly and clearly, I asked, “Who do you mean? Who came by here?”
“Why vem ruffians what is always hangin’ round and squelchin’ turnips from me fields. Vem local lads from the village jus’ beyond—”
“Not teenage hooligans!” I snapped, becoming increasingly irritated. “Soldiers! Guards! Anyone like that?”
The farmer’s eyes widened. “Is vey comin’ this way, you thinks? Like as in, soldiers marchin’ to battle? Vey ain’t lookin’ for no recruits, is vey? I’s too old to be getting into this sort o’ trouble, I is. Why, back in me younger days—”
He prattled on and on. I closed my eyes tightly for a moment and rubbed my temples. How could one person talk this much?
“What’s your name, my good man?” Baron asked, smiling. His tone was friendly, but the mere size of Baron filling the doorway would put anyone on edge.
“Well, me mam wanted to call me ‘enry, named after his royal ‘ighness, ye know. O’ course, that were before ‘is ‘ighness Richard became king, he did. But ye know, ‘enry was Richard’s father he was! Years and years ago vis was, on account o’ I’s older than his ‘ighness. But me pap had said that would be downright disrespectful, it would be. So they had to mull it over a bit, ya know, even after I was born. Then when I was a lad, me friends used to poke fun o’ me for me nose and would call me—”
“Your NAME!” I bellowed, stepping aggressively toward the man. “What is your NAME?”
“Sam,” the farmer squeaked. “Me name is Sam.”
“Okay, Sam,” Baron said calmly. “It sounds like there haven’t been soldiers in the area in the last few days. Is that true?”
“Weeeeeeell,” contemplated Sam, drawing out the vowel for what felt like an eternity, “as I fink on it, it seems like I could probly say that is a right accurate statement that is. I was tellin’ me wife Tildy—she’s a bit deaf, ya know, so I has to speak up smartish around ‘er—but I were telling ‘er that we hadn’t had no trouble in these parts as of late, except o’ course vem ‘ooligans that be snitching turnips.”
“A simple yes or no would do,” I said in clipped tones.
“Be nice,” Baron whispered.
“He’s making it difficult,” I hissed back.
Sam looked at me curiously. “You reminds me of someone, you does,” he said, then eyed the red strands of hair that had come loose and hung into my face, as well as my green tunic and brown leggings.
He snapped his fingers. “I’s got it, I has!
Ye look right like Robin ‘ood, ye does. O’ course, ye looks like you would be a good twenty or so years younger ‘n’ him, iffin I recollect right.
I has a mind like a steel trap, I does, mind like a steel trap! ”
I was clenching my jaw so hard I began to wonder if my teeth would crack and fall out, but still Sam kept talking. “Now, I’s meanin’ no disrespect, good miss, when I says you is lookin’ like him, because ye don’t look like a man by no accounts.”
He talked on and on and on. I inhaled and slowly let out my breath again. Baron, sensing my impatience, nudged me gently.
Sam continued his lengthy monologue, “Why, I was jus’ tellin’ me wife just the other day, her name’s Tildy, just so you knows, and she’s a healer and midwife, that is ‘er profession! But, I was jus’ tellin’ me wife—”
I clapped my hand over his mouth. “Stop. Talking. Right. Now.” I told him slowly through clenched teeth, eyes glittering dangerously.
Baron spoke calmly from behind me, “Which way to Prince John’s castle, my good Sam?”
Sam tried to extricate himself from my grip to respond, but I held his face even tighter and told him to just point. I thought my ears might fall off, if he so much as spoke another syllable.
Sam raised his finger and pointed down the road to the west.
“Thank you,” Baron said politely.
I let go of his face and turned to go.
“Is you Robin ‘ood’s daughter, miss?” Sam asked. I closed my eyes momentarily, praying for patience. “An’ you tell ‘im, if ever Robin ‘ood needs ‘elp, he can count on Sam and Tildy!” He peered closer at me. “Ye do look right like him, you do. Is you Robin Hood’s dau—"
I cracked. “Yes! Yes, I am, and if you tell anyone I was here, because people will come asking, I swear on the life of my father that I’ll return and cut your tongue out and feed it to the jackals!
” To emphasize the point, I whipped one of my knives out of my belt and flipped it up impressively in the air, caught it again, then re-sheathed. I flashed an icy smile to the farmer.
Baron and I had nearly reached the road when a final shout rang out behind us. “You is not very ladylike, miss, if ye don’t minds my saying so! That big bear o’ a bodyguard has got ‘is work cut out for him keeping ye in check, he ‘as!”
Baron chortled. “So, I’m your big bear of a bodyguard, am I?”
I shook my head wearily. “Honestly. I’m not surprised his wife is going deaf. I would too, if I were married to him.”