Chapter 14: Robbing Hood
The Second Journey (Breathtaking Forest)
The trail was picked up with ease because those in front were not attempting to hide their progress.
“Are you sure about this, Sergeant?”
Savage wasn’t. He was taking a leap of faith but felt it held the chance of success for his reasoning was solid.
“I think so, Brutus. The two Midglings ran out just as the gate was closing. Now, why do you think they would do that?”
Brutus enjoyed playing devil’s advocate because it gave him a chance to verbally spar. Brutus was a barbarian through necessity, he was an aspiring intellect through natural curiosity.
“Maybe they were just running away?”
“Midglings? Running out of a guarded castle into the field of battle?”
Brutus had already discounted his own line of questioning but was playing along because both he and Savage enjoyed the idea of challenging prevailing thought.
“Maybe they were kicked out?”
“Do you really think Mother Nature would evict two helpless creatures in the middle of a siege?”
Savage had informed his partners of what he believed the purpose of the Midgling’s escape to be.
“I think they’re going for help. I think Mother Nature sent them out to find reinforcements.”
When he’d seen the two leave through the gate he’d quickly surmised the attack on the command post was a ruse; an intended event to cause attention to be drawn from the castle so the Midglings could slip away. He’d sent Deadaim to find their trail. It took the archer all of five minutes to determine their probable direction of travel, memorize the shapes of their boots, the length of their strides, the depth of their prints and proceed to the rendezvous site. They’d met up, left in the direction Deadaim believed the Midglings traveled and soon had their trail. It led them directly to the Breathtaking Forest.
“I hate this place” Brutus intoned.
“Why?” Savage asked.
“Elfin.”
“Oh, yeah, good point.”
Elfin were a necessary nuisance to most in Mother Nature’s realm. They were industrious, hard-working, amazingly productive and the most annoying busybodies in the world. They were constantly eying everything anyone did and were extremely intrusive in manners which others would like to keep secret.
“All right, this should be a good place to hide my gold.”
“Hi, how are you? What’re you putting in that hole?”
They were ever present even when not seen. They could hide virtually anywhere, had the ability to communicate through the Elfin grapevine and were anything but subtle in conversation.
“Where have you been?”
“I was at work.”
“No he wasn’t. He was at that tavern with his buddies.”
They prided themselves as the forest’s keepers. They monitored everything and let nothing go unnoticed.
“Did you dig a hole and cover it up?”
“Um… yes.”
“No he didn’t! He just squatted down, did his business, and left a big old stinking pile on the ground!”
If it weren’t for the fact they were such amazing food producers and held Mother Nature’s support the rest of the denizens in her kingdom would’ve run the little tattletales off before they ever managed to gain a foothold.
“Sergeant?”
“Yes, Brutus?”
“What are we going to do when we catch up to them?”
The question had been lingering on Savage’s mind for some time and he’d come down to two lines of thought; either help them and thus help Mother Nature or capture them and regain favor in Prince Blight’s eyes. He considered a third for only an instant and then discarded the idea. Killing Midglings was something he could live his entire life without and be content doing so. The problem he was having came down to heart versus brain. He disliked the Prince, didn’t trust the Monarch and was really miffed the regal blowhard thought he could get away with ordering his and his men’s execution. On the other hand, the Prince was definitely in the advantageous position. There really was no way for Queen Nature to win because her forces were so much smaller than Blight’s. Over time, his army would prevail. It might take a month or even a year but the numbers were such that even with a tripling of Nirvana’s forces the Prince would merely call on his father and the army of Blight would grow exponentially. Unless some dramatic twist of fate, some unforeseen circumstance occurred the winner of the game would be Blight and by proxy his father, King Rot.
“I haven’t figured that one out yet, Brutus.”
Brutus nodded his head in acknowledgment. It was another thing he liked about Savage; the man admitted to not knowing everything. It was not so with most who led as he knew all too well. The time had been early in his mercenary days and the man he worked for took gold from a king to rid the land of thieves.
“I want them all dead!”
So they’d ridden out to end the robbers reign and soon found themselves in hot pursuit of a man on horseback.
“Um, Sheriff Hood?”
“What do you want, Barbarian?”
He didn’t particularly like the tone of voice the Sheriff used but was happy enough with the pay to ignore the timbre and asked his question.
“Okay, I don’t mean to challenge your line of reasoning but…”
“But what?”
“Well, don’t you find it a little strange twenty men on horseback could surprise one man on a secluded path in the middle of the King’s forest?”
They had ridden out with all the fanfare the King could provide which meant a few tavern waitresses waved handkerchiefs as they passed by. They galloped down a dirt path with the stealth of blind water-buffalos and came across a man who was sitting on a horse with a few rabbits strung on his saddle. The thievery the King was trying to end was the peasants who thought so little of his rule they would break his law and actually enter his private hunting ground in search of food. The fact they were starving held little interest to the King for he was their Monarch and they were supposed to be willing to die for him. Some informed him the consent was only meant for the battlefield but he relegated that as uninformed information and had their heads removed.
“He’s a thief, Barbarian!”
Again, Brutus declined to take insult at the smarmy voice inflection and proceeded to explain his thought process.
“Uh-huh, yep, he sure is that, Sheriff. But don’t you find it a little strange he would be sitting on a path with the proof of his deeds out in the open for all too see and only fled after we’d rounded the curve and spotted him?”
They were in full chase mode with the horses up front urged on by those behind. Brutus was in the back beside Sherriff Hood who generally despised the idea of a leader being in front so issued orders from the rear. Many believed it was cowardice but the Sheriff felt he could get a better grasp on any situation if he had the whole picture. Also, people in the front tended to die first and issuing orders after death seemed a difficult process to pull off.
“Maybe he’s hard of hearing? Maybe he’s dull of eyesight? Maybe he’s just a common everyday thief who got caught pilfering from the King’s personal woods? Did you think of that, Barbarian?”
The man’s inflections were growing weary but, again, he held his tongue because gold bought the Sheriff a few insults.
“Um, yes, those are all possible reasons, Sheriff. But if I might make one observation?”
They were rounding a curve, dirt flying high and adrenalin coursing through veins.
“What? What observation, Barbarian?”
“Well, if you were to set an ambush, where would you situate archers along a dirt path with trees on all sides?”
Hood had not become Sheriff by riding to his death when obvious insight entered his brain. He glanced forward and came to the conclusion if he were to ambush a bunch of men on horseback he would place his archers in the tree-line where a blind bend in t
he roadway occurred; a blind bend such as the one his men were at that moment entering.
“Whoa!” he yelled while pulling desperately on the reigns of his mounted steed. Brutus followed suit and both sat there as eighteen riders were used as pincushions for archery practice by thieves stealing for survival.
“Um, okay, we’re going to need some new men.”
So they rounded up some new men and were again decimated by arrows shot from trees, knocked off horses by swinging logs and generally rebuffed in every attempt to gain an advantage over the ragtag group of thieves who were, not surprisingly, in quite the merry mood after each such encounter.
“Good luck next time!”
“Thanks for the horses!”
It got to the point where Sheriff Hood was running out of men willing to enlist in his crusade so he went to the King and begged for a little more gold to whet appetites and cause men to join his side in the fight for kingly hunting privileges. The King agreed and notices were nailed to posts informing men of the vast rewards to be gained if they signed on to Hood’s campaign. It was a resounding success and Brutus immediately went to see the Sheriff.
“Um sir?”
“Yes, Barbarian?”
“Look, you’re not going to need my help with all the men you’ve enlisted so I believe I’ll gather my wages and be on the way.”
The Sheriff had always been a needy type of man. He needed new clothes, new horses, new jewelry and new wigs to wear at ballroom galas so was not in the mood to part with gold so easily.
“I will pay you when we rid the forest of thieves, Barbarian!”
Brutus decided the man needed a new attitude.
“Urp!”
Barbarians came in all sizes; some large, some larger, and Brutus-sized. It took seconds to extract his payment.
“Thank you, Sheriff.”
“Ack!”
He set the Sheriff down, unclasped the man’s throat and left the chambers. On the way out he ran across another he couldn’t quite place but who seemed a bit familiar.
“Do I know you?” Brutus asked.
“Kind of” the man replied.
He looked closer and realization dawned.
“Oh yes, the rabbit thief.”
The man smiled, tipped his hat and asked a question.
“Are you leaving?”
Brutus nodded while responding.
“Yes, I’m not a big fan of chasing peasants who are trying to feed their families.”
The man nodded his head indicating he also felt the same way so Brutus asked him a question.
“What are you doing here?”
“I signed on with the Sheriff’s posse.”
The way he answered caused Brutus to laugh a little and ask again.
“No, seriously, why are you really here?”
The man smiled before responding.
“I’m robbing Hood, of course” he answered as he pulled a dagger and opened the Sheriff’s door.
And Brutus smiled again for he knew he was right; the entire posse, the complete contingent of men who’d signed on to the Sheriff’s employ were the same merry men who had been taunting them the whole time.
He’d been reminiscing so needed reinforcement he wasn’t still doing so.
“Sergeant?”
“Yes, Brutus?”
“Did I just see that?”
“Did you see a bear leading three Piglets across the path while a troop of Elfin with baskets full of fruits and grains followed?”
“Yes.”
“Thank God! Because I really thought I might be hallucinating there.”
And so the trio of Savage, Brutus and Deadaim remained on the path through the Breathtaking Forest in pursuit of Midglings from Mother Nature’s castle.