Assassin in the Greenwood

tossed a greasy piece of parchment across.
    'Because that's what Robin Hood claimed he did.'

Chapter 2
    Corbett stared in disbelief at the scrawled writing on the parchment: Sir Eustace Vechey, self-styled Sheriff of Nottingham, executed by order of Robin Hood. Peter Branwood, self-styled Under-Sheriff, executed by order of Robin Hood.
    Corbett mouthed the words slowly and stared at Branwood. 'So you too were supposed to die. But why didn't you show me this immediately?'
    'I told you that Robin Hood was responsible! Vechey is dead and so should I be. There's no doubt this wolfshead has sympathisers in the castle. I thought,' he coughed selfconsciously, 'I thought I should watch you. See what conclusions you drew.' He shrugged. 'Now you have it.'
    Corbett stared at the parchment again. 'By the cross!' he swore. 'This outlaw does take on styles and titles! He finishes his letter: "Given at our castle in the Greenwood".' Corbett tossed the parchment back at Branwood. 'I want to see that bastard hang from the castle walls! Where was this proclamation left?'
    'It wasn't. It was despatched by arrow into the outer bailey.'
    Corbett looked at a huge cobweb in the corner of one of the roof beams.
    'The letter proves one thing,' he declared. 'It says "by order of", so the poisoner must be in the castle. I don't accept that some criminal has the God-given power to go through stone walls.' Corbett paused. 'You did say there are secret passages here?'
    'In the cellars below, yes, a veritable warren. The castle and town are built on a huge crag. The caves and tunnels were used by people long before the Romans came.'
    'But why?' Ranulf stepped forward, ignoring the surprised looks from Sir Peter's household. 'Why should an outlaw murder one of the King's sheriffs and attempt the assassination of another? He must have known it would only bring royal fury down upon his head.'
    Corbett nodded. Ranulf was correct: the outlaw and his band could roam the greenwood, plundering at their will. Other outlaws did the same in forests up and down the kingdom. So why attract attention to himself?
    'Sir Peter, my manservant's question is significant.'
    The under-sheriff shrugged and spread his hands.
    'First, Sir Eustace issued a proclamation saying this Robin of Locksley or Robin Hood should be killed on sight. He also called him a coward, a caitiff and a traitor. The outlaw replied by demanding Sir Eustace do public penance for his remarks or suffer the consequences. Sir Eustace refused and…'His voice trailed off.
    'But why poison?' Corbett insisted. 'Why not in public as Sir Eustace was travelling through the town?'
    'Master Clerk, you have served as a soldier?'
    'Yes, I have.'
    'You have seen men lose their courage? Well, so did Sir Eustace. He refused to venture out of the castle. He became obsessed with the idea that there was a traitor here in the castle, perhaps in his very household. Vechey changed. He was nervous, agitated, neglecting himself and drinking far too much.'
    Corbett stared round. Too many ears here, he thought. He leant over and whispered in Sir Peter's ear. The sheriff looked at the guards and Lecroix. 'You may go.'
    The soldiers hastened from the hall but Lecroix was sluggish. Dragging at his straggling moustache, he shuffled to the door then abruptly turned round.
    'My master was tidy,' he declared as if refuting Ranulf's and Branwood's assertion.
    'What do you mean?' Corbett asked.
    'Nothing,' Lecroix replied. 'He was just tidy, especially in his own chamber.' And he shuffled out.
    Corbett waited until the door closed then turned to Roteboeuf.
    'You are the clerk of the castle as well as Vechey's secretarius?'
    The young man cheerfully nodded.
    'Did he say anything to you? Anything at all?'
    'No. Sir Eustace kept to himself, glowering and throwing dark looks at everyone.'
    'I tried to speak to him,' Father Thomas put in. 'But he told me to look after my own business and he would look after his.'
    'And you, Sir Peter, why should Robin Hood try and kill you?' Corbett caught the glint of hatred in the man's eyes. 'Sir Peter?'
    The sheriff splayed out his fingers and studied them carefully.
    'Eight years ago I was travelling north through Barnsleydale. I was and still am hoping to marry the Lady Margaret Percy. I had bought her a piece of silk, costly and very precious. Robin Hood and his outlaws stopped me, took my gifts, stripped me naked, tied me to my horse and left me to public ridicule.'
    You hate well, Corbett