Posted 23rd February 2020

For those of you unfamiliar with the legend of Robin Hood there are some notes at the end.

Bailiff Jethro was lost in thought as he rode through Sherwood Forest on a bright sunny day in the year 1242 The clement weather did not, alas, reflect his mood although he should have felt satisfied after a morning's successful collection of rents on behalf of his master the Sheriff of Nottingham – he could feel the weight of the coins and hear their merry chink as he rode along.

Jethro sighed and then, coming out of his reverie, looked sharply towards his right as he heard rustling in the undergrowth. As he put his hand on his sword in readiness to fend off an attack, he was dealt a stunning blow from the left and he tumbled to the ground. Cursing himself for his lack of attention Jethro blinked as he looked up and saw three men dressed in Lincoln green smiling down at him. Jethro guessed their intent was not friendly as they were each holding a long bow and aiming an arrow at him.

Jethro was a man of few words and he saw no point in wasting any at that moment. In a few moments, he was hauled to his feet, relieved of his sword and dagger and had a sack put over his head. His hands and feet were roughly tied together, and he was flung on his stomach over his horse and his hands and feet lashed together under the horse's belly. He cursed to himself even as he approved his captors' efficiency.

Jethro felt the saddlebags being removed and wondered if this booty would satisfy the men and they would leave him helpless in the forest, but he soon realised they had other intentions as the horse was pulled purposefully behind them along bumpy tracks. It was hard to keep track of time, but Jethro thought it was at least an hour before the men came to a halt. He tensed, ready for the next stage of his ordeal and ready to fight if need be.

His preparedness was not immediately needed, however as it seemed that his captors were more interested in counting the gold and silver they had collected – he could hear the sound of coins being poured out. Jethro was surprised to find that he was disgruntled at being thought of being of less importance than the money. Some time passed – time in which his anger, and discomfort, grew until finally he heard someone speak,

"But men, we're forgetting our duties towards our guest!"

Jethro heard a chorus of laughter and tried to tamp down his irritation.

"Take him down," ordered the unknown man, "But leave his hands and feet tied … I have a feeling that he may be a tricky one."

The rope attaching his hands to his feet was untied – and again, Jethro found himself approving the action. It was far better to spend a moment or two untying a knot than cutting a rope. Firm hands dragged him a few paces and he was thrust down to sit on a log and the sack pulled from his head. He shook his head and blinked against the light. Jethro saw that he was sitting in a large clearing with huts around the edges. The three men who had ambushed him stood beside a tall young man also dressed in the same Lincoln green. Other people could be seen in the huts, but they didn't seem unduly interested in what was going on.

"Bailiff Jethro," said the young man, "Welcome to our camp."

"Huh," said Jethro. He recognised the man's voice as the one who had given the orders so far, "You have the advantage of me …"

"He's a canny one," remarked the man to his fellows, "He knows he's at our mercy."

"Not what I meant," said Jethro coolly, "I meant that I don't know your name."

The young man put a hand to his heart in shock, "You disappoint me! I thought everyone would know my name."

"Not me," Jethro shrugged, "And it would be useful to know it."

"Indeed?"

"The sheriff keeps good records. He'd want to know the name of the person he'd sent to the gallows for kidnapping one of his officials."

The men laughed cheerily at this riposte but the young man recovered first, "Well, I wouldn't want to inconvenience my esteemed friend the Sheriff of Nottingham," he said solemnly, "So I will tell you that my name is Robin of Locksley – although you might know me as Robin Hood."

"Huh," said Jethro in an unimpressed voice.

"Is that all you have to say?" asked Robin.

"What else do you want me to say?" asked Jethro managing to give the impression that he was slightly bored.

"I don't know. Some people start shaking when they find out who I am."

"Huh."

Robin laughed, "Men, we have a doughty fellow before us. He's not impressed!"

"Perhaps we should dangle him in yon river for a time," suggested a man of Moorish appearance.

Another young man chipped in, "Or toast his toes? That might liven him up!"

Jethro looked at them disdainfully and stretched out his legs in a relaxed manner.

"Now, now," said Robin reproachfully, "The Bailiff is our guest," he called out, "Brother Donald, bring something for our guest to refresh himself with."

An elderly friar emerged from one of the huts, "I was already on my way," he declared in a slightly fussy manner, "But I was just waiting for the bread to have cooked to perfection. I also have some cheese that was brought in from … but I daresay it would be better if I did not divulge from where we get our supplies?" He paused and beamed at his audience, "Now, Bailiff Jethro would you prefer a mug of small beer or I have some excellent wine which, I fear, was destined for the Sheriff's table …"

"Wine."

"Even though you know it belongs to the Sheriff?" asked Robin mockingly.

"I think that means I'm more entitled to it than you," replied Jethro. He accepted the wine from Brother Donald and took a measuring sip. He then set to on the bread and cheese, determined to show that his appetite was not diminished by fear.

Robin looked at him measuringly and, with a nod to the friar, took his own food and wine and sat down opposite Jethro, "You are new to Sherwood?"

"No," said Jethro.

"I haven't seen you before although word of your efficiency has reached me."

"Not my fault. You can't have been looking in the right places."

"Hmm. Then you are new to the role of bailiff – of that I am sure."

"Yes."

"What were you doing before?"

"Does it matter?"

"Indulge me, I am curious. And my men are restless, and I may indulge them and allow them to play with you. I suspect they would be very inventive."

Jethro chewed his piece of bread very slowly to show he was not frightened by these threats and then shrugged, "I have recently returned from the Holy Land."

"Ah! I thought you might be a military man!"

"Because I said I've returned from the Holy Land? How do you know that I have not been on a pilgrimage?"

Robin gazed at him, the laughter gone from his grey-green eyes, "Forgive me but you have more of the air of a soldier than a pilgrim. The way you sit, the look in your eyes … my men told me that you were well armed …"

"Not well armed enough," said Jethro drily.

"Indeed," Robin frowned, "You would have been well advised to heed the warnings about the dangers of the forest."

"I don't listen to idle tales."

"And it was foolhardy to ride through the forest on your own. Especially after gathering so much coin," Robin's face hardened.

"I'll make sure to have an escort next time," said Jethro blandly.

"But I was right, was I not? you are a former soldier?" Jethro nodded. "Did you get to Jerusalem?" asked Robin eagerly.

"I saw it, yes."

"Is it how they say it is?"

"Don't know. I don't know how they say it is," said Jethro indifferently but then he relented when he saw the passion in Robin's face, "But I found it … impressive."

Oddly the simple words seemed to satisfy Robin and he nodded, "Whose army were you with?"

"Richard of Cornwall. I served under the command of Michael the Frank."

"I know you are!" said Robin suddenly, "You are the son of Jackson the tavern owner … over Edwinstowe way."

"I am."

Robin frowned, "Jackson is a good man."

"He is."

"He speaks proudly of you …" the puzzlement was clear in Robin's face.

"So, you wonder why I work for the Sheriff of Nottingham?"

"He is not a good man," said Robin flatly.

"It is not for me to judge. He treats me fairly."

Jethro expected a hot response, but Robin simply blinked and stood up, "I will leave you to your victuals."

"What's going to happen to me?" asked Jethro as his captor turned to go.

"Afraid that I will let my men have their way with you?"

Jethro stared up at the tall young man, "No, I don't think you will do that."

Robin nodded but simply said, "Drink your wine. Brother Donald will bring you more if you want it."

XXXXXX

As night fell, Jethro was tied to a tree but given a blanket against the chill and one of the men was assigned as his guard.

"Have you really been to the Holy Land?" asked the eager young man.

Jethro blinked and nodded.

"I yearn to go …"

"Why don't you?" asked Jethro.

"I get seasick. I tried to cross the Channel once, but the waves were too high, and we had to turn back … and I never tried again."

Jethro grinned, "I was sick the first time I left these shores," he admitted.

"Does it get better?"

"For some; not for everyone."

"Huh …" said the lad disappointedly.

"What's your name?"

"Ti – I mean, Will – Will Scarlett."

"Will is our minstrel," came Robin's voice as he drew near.

"You need a minstrel?" queried Jethro.

"Will keeps our accounts as well. He is a master of the abacus, but he loves to write as well, do you not, Will?"

Will nodded, "I am working on a ballad about our work."

"Your work?" asked Jethro sceptically, "You call preying on unwary travellers through the forest work?"

"Will, get some rest," ordered Robin, "There will be much to do tomorrow. You have all the money from the bailiff's money bags to make provision for."

Will scowled at Jethro but got up obediently and left the two men alone. Robin held out a mug of ale to Jethro and then sat down opposite him,

"You puzzle me, Bailiff Jethro," he said after taking a swallow of his own ale.

"Should I be flattered or concerned?"

"You went to the Crusades – you fought for a noble cause …"

"Didn't always seem so noble when I was there."

Robin didn't seem shocked, "No, I suppose not but I'm guessing you didn't know that before you left. Your father said you went off happily – believing in what you were doing."

"I followed a good man. Not everyone understood Michael the Frank, but he was an honourable man."

"Was?"

"He died near Acre. Died in my arms."

"Was that when you came home?"

"Richard of Cornwall came home. I was under his command, so I came too."

"Because you're a soldier? And you follow orders?"

"Yes."

"Not because you no longer believed in what you were fighting for?"

"It was time."

"And how did you end up in the employ of the Sheriff?"

"Why are you interested?"

"I like to work out puzzles."

"So I should indulge you in this as well?"

"What harm can it do to tell me? You know, I think I will rename you …"

"Yes?"

"It should be Jethro the Silent, not Jethro the Bailiff."

"Michael the Frank gave me a letter of recommendation. He had fought with the Sheriff's late father … he thought it would be a good position for me."

"Are you happy in the work?"

"What does that matter?"

"I just wonder how a soldier – a person of honour – sworn to defend the helpless can enjoy extorting money from the poor and destitute."

Jethro shrugged, "Times are hard. And I do not extort money. I uphold my master's rights."

"But you don't enjoy the work …" this time it was a statement rather than a question.

Jethro shrugged again and took a gulp of his beer. Silence fell but after a few minutes, Jethro spoke, "And what about you? Who are you?"

"I told you, I'm Robin of Locksley – Robin Hood."

"No. No, you're not," said Jethro flatly.

"What d'you mean? Who do you think I am?"

"I don't know. I wouldn't have asked if I knew. You forget, I come from Edwinstowe. I grew up with the stories of Robin Hood and his Merrie Men."

"So?"

"So, the stories are from the time when Richard Lionheart was on the throne and he's been dead for more than 40 years."

"And?"

"And unless you're going to tell me that living under the greenwood gives you eternal youth … well, I don't think you've been here for four decades!"

Robin grinned, "He is still alive … the real Robin …"

"Hmm?"

"But he finds sleeping on the ground and living outdoors too much now so he lives in the friary that Brother Donald belongs to."

"And you? Are you his son?"

A wistful look passed over Robin's face, "I wish he was my father but no, I am not that fortunate."

"Then who are you? And what are you doing in the forest?"

"When Robin realised he was getting too old he decided he needed a substitute. The legend and stories around Robin Hood are powerful – they have their own life, so it seemed a good idea to keep the legend alive with new people …"

"So, Will Scarlett?"

"Is actually Timothy. His father is a master mariner. I fear Tim is a disappointment to him …"

"Because he gets seasick?"

"Yes. And if you should ever talk of your stay here then talk of Friar Tuck and not Brother Donald. The old names keep the legend alive and act as our protection too."

Jethro frowned as he tried to recall the old stories of his childhood, "And Little John? Who is he?"

"Alas, we could find no one of his physical stature but Leon – the Moor – is mysterious in other ways to the local folk and makes a good substitute. Jamie, the Palmer's son, is Much the Miller's son – he's the one who wanted to toast your toes but actually he is one of the gentlest people I know and he is more likely to talk you to death than torture you. He is learning to be an apothecary – Brother Donald has many skills."

"And was there not a Maid Marian?"

Robin laughed but also winced, "Aye, we have a substitute there as well, but she refuses to be called Maid Marian. Our Kate says it is nobody's business whether or not she is a maid and she scorns the idea of being subservient to a man. She has unusual ideas and she is not always easy to get on with. When we are playing our parts, we can only call her Mistress Marian. But she is dear to us … and very beautiful," said Robin with a faraway look in his eyes.

Jethro decided he was not interested in possible romantic attachments that might be happening in the forest but turned to something more pressing in his view, "And you, who are you?"

"I am the son of Anthony of Padding …"

"He is one of the king's most powerful supporters," said Jethro, "And a great landowner."

"Aye, he is rich and influential. He disowned me when I was 12."

"Why?"

"My mother died when I was 8. My father married again, and his new wife did not like the idea that I would prevent any child of hers from succeeding to my father's chair."

"And were there such children?"

Robin laughed bitterly, "Not that I have heard. The great castle is a lonely place. But my father never cared for me – I think he blamed me for my mother's death. He resented the fact that she loved me more than she loved him … who knows? What I do know is that he took me on a journey into the forest and when I awoke in the morning he had gone. I was lucky that Robin found me and cared for me."

"So, what is your name?"

"I am Anthony … my mother was from Italy and I took her name when my father disowned me … so I am known as Anthony DiNozzo – or Tony."

"You will be rich when your father passes?"

"I have no interest in his money. I have seen how the poor suffer at the hands of the wealthy – I will not be part of it. And besides, he has adopted my cousin Crispian as his heir. I have no standing."

"What will become of you? When you also are too old to live outdoors?"

"I will go to my mother's family in Italy. She used to talk to me of vineyards and olive groves … of blue skies and warmth. It seemed like paradise the way she described it."

"Why did you tell me all this?"

"Because you asked," said Tony innocently.

"Try again," said Jethro brusquely.

"Because, as I said before, you puzzle me. The man of honour your father speaks of - doing the dirty work of the Sheriff."

"I have to work."

"Your father suggested that you had fought before and earned good money. Money enough that you would be able to buy land on your return – besides what you would inherit from him. The Stillwater tavern brings in a good income."

"I have no desire to run a hostelry … or to farm."

"I think you believed that Michael the Frank would choose wisely for you, but you have found that things have gone awry since he knew your employer's father. I think you find it all distasteful and dishonourable."

"You do, do you?"

"Yes, I do. And your father has many stories of your skills as a soldier … and yet, after a busy day of collecting rents, you chose to ride alone through the forest."

"So, I was careless? So what, we all make mistakes."

"That's true and perhaps I've made a mistake confiding in you … in which case you may pay the price, but I still wonder if you were …"

"Were what?"

"I'm not sure. Seeing what would happen. Perhaps you wouldn't mind too much if the rents were stolen …"

"Go on."

"And it occurs to me that we could work together."

"Yes?"

"We could perhaps ambush you sometimes and steal your takings. And you might have knowledge of the work of the Sheriff's other bailiffs so we wouldn't have to steal from you all the time."

"That's an interesting thought," said Jethro taking another swallow of beer.

"What say you?"

"It would mean betraying my oath of loyalty to the Sheriff."

"Does he deserve your loyalty?"

Jethro stared at him, "No, no he doesn't. I am ashamed to work for him and fill his filthy coffers."

"Jethro, did you plan all this?"

Jethro shook his head, "No … plan is the wrong word. My gut told me that something might happen if I came through the forest, so I dismissed the servants. But truth to tell, when your men captured me, I was wool-gathering and they took me by surprise. I suppose at most I hoped that if I was robbed then the Sheriff would dismiss me for incompetence, and I would be free."

"He might still do so," observed Tony drily.

"No," said Jethro confidently, "He's afraid of me – he won't get rid of me if I don't want to be got rid of."

"So, you'll join us?"

"Steal from the rich and give to the poor?" Jethro raised a sceptical eyebrow. Tony simply watched and waited. "Yes," said Jethro, "I'll join you and do better work than I have done these many days."

"And when you are too old for this life?"

"Perhaps I will travel to this Italy you speak of and warm my tired bones."

"But not yet," said Tony as he raised his flagon, "Not yet … there is work to be done. And sheriffs to outwit!"

Jethro lived up to his new name and said nothing – he simply nodded.

The legend of Robin Hood and his Merrie Men (plus Maid Marian) is often set in the reign of Richard 1 in England towards the end of the 12th century. A band of outlaws led by Robin Hood (the dispossessed Lord Locksley) lived in Sherwood Forest and robbed the rich and gave the money to the poor. Among the outlaws were Little John (a very tall man), Friar Tuck, Will Scarlet and Much the Miller's son. The outlaws wore Lincoln green and their main enemy was the Sheriff of Nottingham. Robin Hood has been the subject of many TV shows and films.