Will and his men were better mounted, and we punished ourselves and our horses trying to keep up with them. But after midday we rode through a gate with a high wooden arch. On it hung a weather-beaten sign with carved letters reading HODE. Passing through it, we followed a long lane lined by very tall trees. Through the trees I saw more woods, but in the distance there were some gently rolling meadows and open fields. It was a beautiful place, and I realized why Robard had been so eager to return home.
We found Robard and his mother not far from their manor house, in a small fenced cemetery standing before a wooden cross. It must have been the family plot where his father was buried. Robard towered over his tiny mother, whose shoulders shook as she cried, and he tried gently to wipe away the river of tears coursing down her face. Our party dismounted in the yard and we all stood quietly, not wishing to disturb them.
Tuck watched the two of them standing by the wooden cross and I wondered if it brought back painful memories of the brothers he had buried not so long ago. Tuck folded his hands in prayer and made his quiet clicking sound before crossing himself. Will and his men, perhaps thinking Tuck was an actual priest from his dress and manor, followed suit.
While Robard tended to his mother, I took stock of the Hode estate. It had fallen on hard times for certain, but it was much grander than a “simple farm,” as Robard had led us to believe. The manor house was two stories high, with a large wooden porch running along its front. The steps leading up to it were cracked and loose in a few places, but the thatched roof was in grave disrepair. What had once been glass windows on the front of the house were now boarded up.
Beyond the house lay a barn, a smokehouse and a few smaller outbuildings. The corral next to the barn was missing several lengths of fencing and would have a hard time holding even a small goat. If Hode land was in such a state, I could only imagine what the poorer farmers were experiencing.
Robard and his mother left the small plot and he took her arm, leading her to the yard. His face was drawn and pinched in anger. I felt his grief at what had befallen his mother and his land. We had come here for rest, but there was little peace to be found.
During our travels, Robard had spoken very little of his mother. Despite her circumstances and what must have been her apparent shock at his unexpected return, she showed us a delightful smile. The loss of her husband was tempered by the return of her only child. She could barely take her eyes off of him and followed him around the yard like a puppy. Angel took great delight in meeting Mistress Hode, who fussed over the little mutt as if she were one of her own children.
“Oh, Rob, where ever did you find such a sweet little girl?” his mother cooed, rubbing Angel on the belly.
“A long story,” he said. “Mother, there’s folk here I need you to welcome. These two in particular have been with me since the Holy Land. Tristan is this scoundrel’s name, calls himself a squire to a Templar Knight, but I think it might be a tall tale he’s told,” Robard said with a twinkle in his eye. He might be angry and upset, but he was not about to forget his manners in front of his mother. He was trying to cheer her up and focus on something besides all the grief.
“You’re a friend to my Robin boy?” she asked.
“I am indeed, ma’am,” I said.
“Then you are always welcome here,” she replied, touching me on the cheek with a tiny wrinkled hand.
“Thank you, ma’am. You are most kind,” I said.
Robard introduced his mother to Little John and Brother Tuck, and she was overjoyed to see Tuck in his friar’s robes. “It’s been far too long a time since we’ve had a man of God among us here in Sherwood,” she said. And when I explained that Tuck could neither speak nor hear, she reached out and patted him gently on the arm, as if it mattered not to her. She considered him a man of the church, and his presence was enough.
Before Robard had even had a chance to introduce her, she took Maryam by the hands.
“Poor lass. Why was it you were forced to travel so far with so many ruffians?”
Maryam, for once, was at a loss for words. She tried to stammer out a reply, but Robard interrupted.
“Mother, this is Maryam. We’ve been through some scrapes, the three of us, trying to get home. She can fight and I’ve seen her best more warriors than I can count. She’s saved my skin a dozen times. There’s a lot I need to tell you when there’s time.”
“It’s fine, Rob,” his mother said. “I could tell when you looked at her the first time that you’re quite taken with the lass and her with you. A mother knows these things.”
“What?” Robard burst out. “Oh no, it’s not like that. Maryam is. . She’s a. . I’m not taken. No ma’. .”
“Really?” said Mistress Hode.
“Really. .,” said Maryam, her eyes as sharp as her daggers. Robard stared at me helplessly. I only shrugged.
Mistress Hode took Maryam by the hand again. “Lass, are you a Christian?”
Maryam swallowed, then quietly answered, “No, ma’am, I’m not.”
“But my Rob says you’ve stood by him, fought at his side. This is true?” she asked.
“Yes, Mistress Hode, it’s true. He’s a little rough around the edges sometimes, and he’s not quite as good with a longbow as he believes, but I’ve never met a braver or more loyal soul,” Maryam said.
Mistress Hode beamed and pulled Maryam toward the house. “’Tis good enough for me. Come, lass, I mean no offense, but you’ve been riding hard for a long while and I’ll bet it’s been some time since you’ve had a proper bath. My maid will draw us water and we’ll have a nice chat. Allan, Will, there’s a bit of venison left up in the smokehouse. If you two wouldn’t mind, you might hunt us a roebuck for our evening meal, although Lord knows there’s not many deer left, with everyone as hungry as they are. We don’t have much,” she said to Maryam and Little John, “but we’ll feast this evening. Will, you and the rest to your jobs now. My Robin boy is home, and for one night at least, Sherwood will know no sorrow. Off with you!”
Pulling Maryam behind her, Mistress Hode disappeared into the house with Angel at her heels. Will, Allan and the other men attended to everything needing to be done. They led the horses toward the pasture behind the barn. A large cook fire was lighted in the pit, and before long it was just Robard, Tuck, Little John and me standing in the yard.
“What now?” I asked.
“Now we give my mother her celebration. There’s been enough crying today. Tomorrow, I’ll ride to Nottingham and speak to this Shire Reeve.”
“Robard. .”
“No, Tristan. Enough talk. Look at the state of my home. If my father were alive, he’d die of disgrace. What of my poor mother having to live like this with the house and everything else falling down around her? Will and Allan have to scrape up whatever they can just to feed the hungry. We’ll have words, this Shire Reeve and I. Of that I assure you.”
With that, Robard stalked off and disappeared behind the house.
“I think young Hode is asking for trouble,” Little John remarked.
“Yes, he needs to take leave and think. We’re in no shape to make another enemy of the Shire Reeve,” I said.
“You’ll stand with him against the Reeve?” Little John asked.
The breeze picked up just then and a small dusting of snow whipped up into the air and blew across the ground at us. I felt the wind cut through me, and if I had not been raised by Christian men, I would have thought it a sign, an omen of evil things to come. Despite my upbringing, for a moment I did think so. Something bad was coming our way.
Little John, if he saw any of it, said nothing. I looked him in the eye. “All the way,” I said. “All the way.”