Simon Hawke - Ivanhoe Gambit

"Do you mean to tell me that it's true that you split Hubert's shaft and won the tournament?" said Marion.

"It is the very truth," said Bobby. "And if I, who have always been the most dissolute amongst us, have so benefitted by my new abstemiousness, think what the rest of the merry men could do if kept from drink and given some direction. Why, we would be the very terror of the forests!"

"We are the terror of the forests!" protested Tuck.

"The only terror that we cause, good Tuck," said Bobby, "is in the rabbits and the woodcocks whose poor ears are assailed by our noise of drunken revelry. As for the gentry hereabouts, the only terror which we cause them results from fear that they might die of laughing at our bumbling prowess."

"If you were as abstemious of words as you claim to have become of drink, then I would be impressed, indeed," said Marion. "But that would be asking for the moon, no doubt. Hold out your hands."

Bobby held his hands out before him.

"They appear steady enough," said Marion, dubiously. "But I have heard this claim of temperance many times before. How long will it last this time? One day? One hour?"

"Well, wait and see," said Bobby.

Marion made a wry face. "You'll never change. You'll ever work your mouth far better than you shoot a bow. You, John, and that other wastrel, Alan-a-dale. Forever drinking yourselves blind and making up those absurd songs about yourselves. 'Robin Hood, Robin Hood, riding through the glen,' my buttocks! You've got half the shire singing that drivel and believing it, as well. You forget that I know better. Singing and carousing were all you were ever good at." She chuckled. "That, and perhaps another thing or two, besides."

"Marion!" said Bobby, with a great show of indignation. "I have had a most profound experience! How can you doubt me?"

"I am to believe you split a shaft of Hubert's? Prince John's finest archer?"

"But some of the men saw it! Did they not tell you?"

"Oh, they'll say anything to please you and you know it. Am I also to believe that you had a confrontation with my husband's men and came away to speak of it?"

Bobby glanced at Finn. "Your husband?"

"Are you now forgetting the very lies that crossed your lips mere moments ago?" she said. "Did you or did you not claim to have met the sheriff's men and lived to tell the tale?"

"Oh, well, yes, of course…" said Bobby, trying desperately to recover. Marion was married to the Sheriff of Nottingham?

"Oh, you're contemptible!" she said. "I ought to thrash you!" Then she smiled. "But just the same, I'm glad to have you back. I will forgive you if you come give me a kiss."

Bobby smiled as she held her arms out to him and he approached her, pleased to note as he did so that she took at least some pains to keep herself clean, for while there was a slight musky smell about her, she did not stink anywhere near so badly as did Tuck. She put her arms around him and kissed him energetically, but the moment they broke the kiss, she hauled off and smashed a right into his jaw.

Bobby staggered and almost fell.

"What was that for?"

"You never kissed that well before! Where have you been taking lessons?"

Finn burst out laughing.

"You find it funny, do you, John?" she said, advancing toward him, her right hand going to the hilt of one of her long daggers. When he wouldn't stop laughing, she drew the dagger and waved it at him threateningly. "Stop your laughing, or so help me, I'll-"

Finn quickly pivoted on the ball of his left foot, bringing his right foot around in a lightning fast spinning wheel kick. He caught her knife hand just at the wrist and the dagger went flying out of her grasp. For a moment, she stared at him, stunned, then she furiously drew the other dagger and lunged at him. Finn trapped her wrist, then using her arm as a lever against her, he casually flipped her. She fell flat on her back. The other merry men stared at him with their jaws hanging open. It was the first time in their lives they had ever seen a demonstration of the Oriental martial arts.

Marion got up slowly, rubbing her hip. "Where did you learn that trick?" she said, no longer angry.

Finn shrugged. "It's no great feat," he said. "It is a way of fighting they have in the East. It was taught to me and Robin by a knight returned from the Crusades."

"A knight! Why would a knight bother with a Saxon outlaw?"

"This was a Saxon knight," said Bobby. "We met him at the tournament. He was much impressed with the way I handle a longbow and offered to teach me and John some of the art of this foreign way of fighting in return for instructing him in archery."

" You taught a knight the longbow?" she said, astonished.

"Well, it was not completely foreign to him, being a Saxon," Bobby said. "And he already had some skill with a crossbow."

" You taught him? You?"

"John, I don't think she believes me," Bobby said.

Finn shrugged. "Show her."

Bobby strung his bow. He looked at Marion and grinned. "What shall we shoot at?"

"I think you're starting to believe your own fantastic boasts," she said. "You could never beat me."

"Ah, but that was before I gave up drinking," Bobby said.

Marion strung her own bow. "I see it's time to put you in your place again," she said. "Very well." She nocked an arrow and, choosing a stout oak tree on the far side of the camp, she drew her bow back and let fly. The arrow sailed across the camp, narrowly missing one of the men who had just exited his hut. He yelped and dove back inside. The arrow struck the tree trunk and stuck there.

"Right," said Marion. "Let's see how close you can place your shaft to mine. Perhaps you'll even split it as you did Hubert's." She laughed, mockingly.

Bobby removed his quiver from his shoulder, handing it to John.

"Hold that for me, will you, Little John?"

Finn winked at Bobby as Bobby drew out a black arrow. With Bobby standing between him and Marion, Finn reached into the quiver and drew out the little black box.

"A black arrow?" Marion said.

"A new idea of mine," said Bobby. "I thought to have all the merry men use black arrows."

"Why?"

"To strike fear into the hearts of our enemies, to mark that the arrow comes from one of Robin Hood's merry men."

"Ah, I see," said Marion, with mock gravity. "Perhaps we should all wear some sort of crest upon our chests, as well? Crossed black arrows upon a cask of ale?"

By way of an answer, Bobby nocked the arrow, first taking care to quickly disarm it, drew the bow back to his ear, and let it fly. The black box did the rest. Marion's arrow was neatly split.

The merry men cheered, throwing their caps into the air and pounding one another on the back. Marion stared at him with total disbelief.

"I could not believe that story about your winning the tournament," she said, "yet now I see it with my own two eyes! You really can shoot!"

"And you doubted me," said Bobby.

Marion unstrung her bow, then swung it with both hands. It whistled through the air and struck Bobby on the side of his head.

"Jesus!" He clapped his hand to his left ear, wincing with pain. "Are you crazy?"

"All this time, you could shoot so well, and yet you deprived me of such marksmanship by being a drunkard!" She grabbed him by the hair and shook his head furiously. " If I ever see you touch a drop of drink again, God be my judge, you 'II live out the remainder of your life a gelding!"

She shoved him away from her, then turned to face the merry men, who all instantly grew silent.

"Tomorrow, we start to learn these new tricks of fighting," she said. "And from this moment on, any man who cannot hold his drink will be hung up by his thumbs! Neither are you excluded, Tuck, holy friar or not." She stalked off to her lean-to, but paused and turned around before entering. "One more thing," she said. "From now on, we use black arrows."