Assassin in the Greenwood

the wars a bitter man.'
    'You've met him?' Corbett asked.
    'Yes, at the end of November. He visited me here.'
    'How did he seem?'
    'Weary. Don't forget, Sir Hugh, he is in his fifties and sickened by the sights seen whilst serving with the King's armies in Scotland. He said he'd had enough of King and court and was going to Kirklees where the Lady Mary was sheltering.'
    'Was he by himself?'
    'Yes. He just walked into the village on foot, that great long bow slung over his shoulder. I asked him where Little John was, or more appropriately John Little. Robin said that John had deserted from the King's armies and they had agreed to meet at Kirklees.'
    'Did Robin say what he was going to do in the future?'
    'He said he would take Lady Mary away from Kirklees. They would marry in my church and become "Lord and Lady Stay At Home".'
    Corbett broke up his bread, crumbled it into the soup and carefully sipped from the horn spoon.
    'But he never came back, did he?' Corbett asked between mouthfuls.
    'No,' Father Edmund sighed. 'He left here the next morning. Something happened at Kirklees. Something which changed Robin. He didn't return here and the manor at Locksley is now decaying under the care of an old steward.' The priest shook his head. 'I can't understand it. Robin walked up that road and disappeared.' He sipped from his cup. 'I heard no more until the stories began to circulate, so I went to Kirklees. The Lady Prioress, Dame Elizabeth Stainham, is a distant kinswoman of Robin. She had afforded protection to the Lady Mary.' Father Edmund raised his thin shoulders. 'She could tell me nothing. Robin had arrived. Little John was already waiting for him. The Lady Mary joined them and, instead of going to Locksley, they went back into Sherwood. She, too, was surprised and shocked at the stories she had heard.' Father Edmund stared anxiously at his guest. 'What will happen to him, Sir Hugh?'
    Corbett put the earthenware bowl down.
    'I won't lie, Father. They'll hunt him down. If Sir Peter Branwood does not catch him, if Sir Guy of Gisborne fails, if I cannot entice him out into the open, the King will send others north. They will double and treble the price on his head and one day they'll find a traitor to betray him.'
    The priest looked away but not quickly enough. Corbett saw the tears pricking those sad old eyes.
    'Why, Father Edmund? Why did Robin change?'
    'Listen,' the priest continued. 'Listen to this, Sir Hugh.'
    He shuffled over to the parish chest, unclasped the three padlocks and scrabbled around, muttering. He lifted up the candle, gave a murmur of satisfaction and came back with a small scrap of parchment in his hand. The priest smoothed the parchment out on his lap and, holding the candle over it, began to read.
    'Once,' he declared, his finger following the line of words, 'a poor peasant man died but his soul was unclaimed by either angel or devil. However, the peasant was determined to reach Paradise and eventually arrived outside its gates. Here St Peter came before him. "Go away, peasant!" he cried. "Peasants are not allowed into heaven!"
    '"Why not?" the peasant shouted back. "You, Peter, denied Christ. I have never done that. You, St Paul, persecuted Christians and I have never done that. You, bishops and priests, have neglected others and I have never done that."
    'St Peter,' Father Edmund continued, enjoying the story, 'eventually called for Christ to drive the peasant off and Le Bon Seigneur arrived, clothed in glory, outside the gates of Paradise.
    '"Judge me, O Christ!" the peasant cried, "You caused me to be born in misery but I endured my troubles without complaint. I was told to believe in the gospel and I did. I was told to share my bread and water with the poor and I did. In sickness I confessed and received the sacraments. I kept your commandments. I fought to gain Paradise because you told me to. So here I shall stay."
    'Christ smiled at the peasant and turned to reprove Peter. "Let this man come in for he is to sit at my right hand and become a lord of heaven."'
    Father Edmund finished speaking and stared down at the piece of parchment which he reverently curled up into a thin scroll.
    'You may ask, Sir Hugh, who wrote that? I did, but I copied it word for word from a speech Robin of Locksley gave to the villagers on the last Yuletide before he went north to join the King's armies in Scotland. That is why I took you from that ale house. If any man, woman or child in this village thought you