Read Online Wolf Wood (Part One): The Gathering Storm by Mike Dixon - Free Book Online
Authors: Mike Dixon
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think you're not one of them?'
Robin put down
his axe. 'Sir Harald Gascoigne has given five oaks for the new
almshouse. I reckon he should have it.'
John's mood
changed. 'You could have asked first.'
'There wasn't
time. Wat Gallor and his men were talking about it in the George.
They said they'd come down and take it.'
John remained
stony faced. 'Master Rochell and I are unaware of what you are
doing and shall remain ignorant so long as you restrict your
attention to that tree.'
'Aye,
Master.'
Robin
shouldered the axe and walked away.
'He's a good
lad,' John said. 'He's staying with me at present. Very level
headed and reliable. I wish the same could be said of William
Bradford. The man has no sense of proportion. I'd hate to work for
him.'
'What do you
think his first move will be?'
'The vicar
thinks Bradford will ask Neville to censure the parish. The illegal
font is our biggest liability. It could weigh heavily against us in
an ecclesiastical court.'
'That means we
must go to Salisbury before Bradford.' Richard said. 'The almshouse
papers will need to be got there. That could be our excuse.'
Are they ready
yet?'
'I could have
them ready by this evening.'
'Get started.'
John looked like a man of action. 'I'll deliver them myself.
They'll offer hospitality if I arrive late. I'll find a sympathetic
ear ... tell our side of the story before Bradford can tell
his.'
'The carters
say the Salisbury road is dangerous.' Richard sounded concerned.
'You'll need an armed escort.'
'I'll put
Robin onto it.' John rose . 'He'll know what to do. You should have
seen how he managed that situation with Roger Knowles.'
Chapter
12
Salisbury
Robin cranked
his crossbow into the firing position and secured it beneath his
cloak. They were on their way to Salisbury. Master Baret had come
to him saying he needed an escort. He wanted three men who were
sober, honest and in no way associated with Dick Vowell. That posed
a problem because there were only two places where you could
recruit an escort in a hurry. One was the George and the other was
the Julian.
If you went to
the George you'd get Wat Gallor's mates. If you went to the Julian,
you'd get Dick Vowell's. Neither appealed to the old man and they'd
called on the services of Gareth and David, a couple of Welsh lads
who'd arrived in town to join Guy Gascoigne's archers. Robin knew
them as relatives of Owen Ap-Richard, who worked the country fairs
with wooden heads you could shoot at for prizes.
They had spent
the first night at an inn. It was bucketing down with rain and the
road was impassable. If it had been left to Robin, they would have
turned back. The direct route was flooded and they'd have to pick
their way through the woods to reach their destination on time.
That was no easy matter. Thornbushes and brambles were favoured by
gamekeepers as cover for game and there was the ever-present risk
of outlaws.
Gareth knew
some archers who would act as guides. They were living rough while
waiting to cross to France. Robin decided to leave the old man with
David and set off with Gareth to find them. They went down a narrow
path and were soon surrounded by dense vegetation. Tracks branched
off to left and right. Without the sun, Robin soon lost all sense
of direction.
'Are you sure
we're going the right way?'
'Trust me,
boyo.' Gareth brimmed with confidence. 'They've built a shelter
like we have in Wales.'
'How do you
know they'll be there?'
'They've got
nowhere else to go, boyo. They've got to rough it in the woods
until they can join Sir Guy in France.'
Robin grew
uneasy. He'd left his charge with a sixteen-year-old and gone into
unknown territory with a guide who would never admit to making a
mistake. On top of that, they were being followed. On a ridge,
above their heads, the birds were agitated. Nothing disturbs the
greenwood more than human presence. Someone was keeping pace with
them. If they were travellers they could join them. There was
safety in numbers.
Robin put down
his axe. 'Sir Harald Gascoigne has given five oaks for the new
almshouse. I reckon he should have it.'
John's mood
changed. 'You could have asked first.'
'There wasn't
time. Wat Gallor and his men were talking about it in the George.
They said they'd come down and take it.'
John remained
stony faced. 'Master Rochell and I are unaware of what you are
doing and shall remain ignorant so long as you restrict your
attention to that tree.'
'Aye,
Master.'
Robin
shouldered the axe and walked away.
'He's a good
lad,' John said. 'He's staying with me at present. Very level
headed and reliable. I wish the same could be said of William
Bradford. The man has no sense of proportion. I'd hate to work for
him.'
'What do you
think his first move will be?'
'The vicar
thinks Bradford will ask Neville to censure the parish. The illegal
font is our biggest liability. It could weigh heavily against us in
an ecclesiastical court.'
'That means we
must go to Salisbury before Bradford.' Richard said. 'The almshouse
papers will need to be got there. That could be our excuse.'
Are they ready
yet?'
'I could have
them ready by this evening.'
'Get started.'
John looked like a man of action. 'I'll deliver them myself.
They'll offer hospitality if I arrive late. I'll find a sympathetic
ear ... tell our side of the story before Bradford can tell
his.'
'The carters
say the Salisbury road is dangerous.' Richard sounded concerned.
'You'll need an armed escort.'
'I'll put
Robin onto it.' John rose . 'He'll know what to do. You should have
seen how he managed that situation with Roger Knowles.'
Chapter
12
Salisbury
Robin cranked
his crossbow into the firing position and secured it beneath his
cloak. They were on their way to Salisbury. Master Baret had come
to him saying he needed an escort. He wanted three men who were
sober, honest and in no way associated with Dick Vowell. That posed
a problem because there were only two places where you could
recruit an escort in a hurry. One was the George and the other was
the Julian.
If you went to
the George you'd get Wat Gallor's mates. If you went to the Julian,
you'd get Dick Vowell's. Neither appealed to the old man and they'd
called on the services of Gareth and David, a couple of Welsh lads
who'd arrived in town to join Guy Gascoigne's archers. Robin knew
them as relatives of Owen Ap-Richard, who worked the country fairs
with wooden heads you could shoot at for prizes.
They had spent
the first night at an inn. It was bucketing down with rain and the
road was impassable. If it had been left to Robin, they would have
turned back. The direct route was flooded and they'd have to pick
their way through the woods to reach their destination on time.
That was no easy matter. Thornbushes and brambles were favoured by
gamekeepers as cover for game and there was the ever-present risk
of outlaws.
Gareth knew
some archers who would act as guides. They were living rough while
waiting to cross to France. Robin decided to leave the old man with
David and set off with Gareth to find them. They went down a narrow
path and were soon surrounded by dense vegetation. Tracks branched
off to left and right. Without the sun, Robin soon lost all sense
of direction.
'Are you sure
we're going the right way?'
'Trust me,
boyo.' Gareth brimmed with confidence. 'They've built a shelter
like we have in Wales.'
'How do you
know they'll be there?'
'They've got
nowhere else to go, boyo. They've got to rough it in the woods
until they can join Sir Guy in France.'
Robin grew
uneasy. He'd left his charge with a sixteen-year-old and gone into
unknown territory with a guide who would never admit to making a
mistake. On top of that, they were being followed. On a ridge,
above their heads, the birds were agitated. Nothing disturbs the
greenwood more than human presence. Someone was keeping pace with
them. If they were travellers they could join them. There was
safety in numbers.
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