Ely.’
‘Forgive me brother if I don’t believe you.’
At his nod the robber behind me sliced through the leather thong that secured the money bags to Clytemnestra’s rump and all four bags of silver, half of Samson’s fifteen marks, slid heavily to the ground with a disconcerting clunk! He then jumped off, lifted the bags high in the air and let out a triumphant whoop.
‘That’s it,’ I shouted. ‘That’s all of it. There is no more.’
But then Gilbert’s “lady” did the same and the four remaining bags clunked to the ground also accompanied by more whooping.
I turned angrily on the man John: ‘You, sir, are a cheat and a liar and I will see you hanged for this!’
‘Oh spare me your indignation brother,’ he said in a mock-wounded voice. ‘I’m only trying to earn an honest living.’
‘You call robbery on the king’s highway honest? ’
‘I call it a day’s work. And hard work it is too. It’s not easy finding the right sort of customer for our sort of business.’
His men chortled appreciatively at their leader’s wit.
‘You won’t get away with this,’ I told him. ‘That landlord and his servants will remember you.’
‘They will remember two men and their wives in the company of a monk, nothing more. And he won’t want to draw too much attention to himself, not if those two “daughters” of his are to keep their jobs.’
My jaw dropped open. ‘You mean they were -? That place was a -?’ I gasped appalled. Abbot Eustache was right. This is indeed a godless country.
It was then that we heard the first whistle. It might have been the wind in the treetops except on this barren landscape there were no trees. The whistle was followed almost instantaneously by a cry of pain from one of the “wives” as he clasped his thigh. Blood spurted from the leg and he dropped the money bags he was holding. Then another arrow whistled into the calf of the other “wife” who had relieved Gilbert of his saddlebags making him drop them, too.
The robbers glanced frantically about them. ‘Where’s it coming from?’
‘I don’t know,’ said John raising himself up on his stirrups to peer around. I looked too but all I could see was miles of flat, featureless marsh. Then a third arrow smacked into his shoulder making him cry out in pain.
It was enough.
‘Let’s get out of here!’ one of the men shouted. He made a grab for one the bags of silver. But an arrow whistled into the ground an inch from his hand making him drop the bag and he abandoned it running instead for his horse.
All thoughts of the money now gone, the two injured robbers were quickly helped onto their horses and in confusion the four of them bucked, bolted and galloped their way as fast as their mounts could carry them as more arrows coming faster now flew past their retreating heads.
For a long moment Gilbert and I simply stared at each other in fear and wonderment. Where indeed was the attack coming from, and was it our turn next? Should we run too? The decision, as it turned out, was not ours for the taking.
‘Stand fast! Don’t make a move or it will be your last!’
I looked to where the voice seemed to be coming from but still I couldn’t see its owner. There was nothing, no movement, no object to be seen above a few miserable clumps of grass and straggly bushes. It was a completely flat, featureless plain. It was like a voice coming out of heaven.
But then slowly something did move. Down at ground level there was some sort of ditch that I hadn’t noticed before and from it emerged a face - or rather a leather mask with two holes for eyes. Whoever it was held a bow levelled at us. At first I thought he was our saviour but the hood made clear that he was just another robber - in all likelihood a rival to the first group.
I was so outraged at the thought that we should have to swap one band of thieves for another that I’m afraid lost all sense of propriety - and with it my fear. Foolhardy I may
‘Forgive me brother if I don’t believe you.’
At his nod the robber behind me sliced through the leather thong that secured the money bags to Clytemnestra’s rump and all four bags of silver, half of Samson’s fifteen marks, slid heavily to the ground with a disconcerting clunk! He then jumped off, lifted the bags high in the air and let out a triumphant whoop.
‘That’s it,’ I shouted. ‘That’s all of it. There is no more.’
But then Gilbert’s “lady” did the same and the four remaining bags clunked to the ground also accompanied by more whooping.
I turned angrily on the man John: ‘You, sir, are a cheat and a liar and I will see you hanged for this!’
‘Oh spare me your indignation brother,’ he said in a mock-wounded voice. ‘I’m only trying to earn an honest living.’
‘You call robbery on the king’s highway honest? ’
‘I call it a day’s work. And hard work it is too. It’s not easy finding the right sort of customer for our sort of business.’
His men chortled appreciatively at their leader’s wit.
‘You won’t get away with this,’ I told him. ‘That landlord and his servants will remember you.’
‘They will remember two men and their wives in the company of a monk, nothing more. And he won’t want to draw too much attention to himself, not if those two “daughters” of his are to keep their jobs.’
My jaw dropped open. ‘You mean they were -? That place was a -?’ I gasped appalled. Abbot Eustache was right. This is indeed a godless country.
It was then that we heard the first whistle. It might have been the wind in the treetops except on this barren landscape there were no trees. The whistle was followed almost instantaneously by a cry of pain from one of the “wives” as he clasped his thigh. Blood spurted from the leg and he dropped the money bags he was holding. Then another arrow whistled into the calf of the other “wife” who had relieved Gilbert of his saddlebags making him drop them, too.
The robbers glanced frantically about them. ‘Where’s it coming from?’
‘I don’t know,’ said John raising himself up on his stirrups to peer around. I looked too but all I could see was miles of flat, featureless marsh. Then a third arrow smacked into his shoulder making him cry out in pain.
It was enough.
‘Let’s get out of here!’ one of the men shouted. He made a grab for one the bags of silver. But an arrow whistled into the ground an inch from his hand making him drop the bag and he abandoned it running instead for his horse.
All thoughts of the money now gone, the two injured robbers were quickly helped onto their horses and in confusion the four of them bucked, bolted and galloped their way as fast as their mounts could carry them as more arrows coming faster now flew past their retreating heads.
For a long moment Gilbert and I simply stared at each other in fear and wonderment. Where indeed was the attack coming from, and was it our turn next? Should we run too? The decision, as it turned out, was not ours for the taking.
‘Stand fast! Don’t make a move or it will be your last!’
I looked to where the voice seemed to be coming from but still I couldn’t see its owner. There was nothing, no movement, no object to be seen above a few miserable clumps of grass and straggly bushes. It was a completely flat, featureless plain. It was like a voice coming out of heaven.
But then slowly something did move. Down at ground level there was some sort of ditch that I hadn’t noticed before and from it emerged a face - or rather a leather mask with two holes for eyes. Whoever it was held a bow levelled at us. At first I thought he was our saviour but the hood made clear that he was just another robber - in all likelihood a rival to the first group.
I was so outraged at the thought that we should have to swap one band of thieves for another that I’m afraid lost all sense of propriety - and with it my fear. Foolhardy I may
Similar Books
