wytchcroft

The Abbey was secluded, lodged in the heart of a moat and with the edges of the circling English woods on one side and high forbidding hills on the other. There were many rooms, restful and candle lit. There was the sound of a slow bell and prayerful singing.

Clutching his side, Robin (late of tree-top mansions, Sherwood Forest and now of no fixed abode,) gave a mournful sigh. His right arm slipping down and dropping the bow it held.

There was a clatter as the Longbow hit the floor.

"Suddenly," said Robin, his dark eyes so often brooding and fierce but now troubled and cloudy, "suddenly - I'm not half the man I used to be."

There was a moment of sad, reflective silence - and then Robin's friend and companion, the musician and poet Allan-a-Dale, (available exclusively from the Dale-a Poets series of fine recordings) plucked a suitably pensive lute string;

"Suddenly," he sang in his well known way, "I'm not half the man I used to be... there's a-"

"Oh for God's sake!" Robin yelped.

Allan felt the crushing paw of his colleague ‘Little’ John coming as if from nowhere to clamp across his mouth.

But Allan had the reflexes of one skilled and experienced in the art of tomato dodging, and thosee reflexes served him now as he ducked.

"Philistines!" he cried."I'm just ahead of my time!"

"This," Robin said, mustering all the fire left in his veins, "is supposed to be MY TIME!"

Allan blinked, "Oh yes, so it is. Sorry boss."

The giant John Little moved further into the room, out from the heavily shadowed doorway. He wanted to curse, for the doorways and ceilings were so cramped that his head now held more eggs than a swallow's nest.

But remembering his manners he refrained.

Instead he settled for clouting Allan as he came past and saying to Robin.

"Can I help Robin?" He wiped his bearded chin with a thoughtful mallet-like hand.
"Whatever thou wishes I shall endeavour to provide, for I have always been your strong right arm and it seems you need me still."

"You can pick the bloody bow up for starters," grumbled Robin leaning now like a cripple upon his quarterstaff.

John did as asked but his brow was furrowed. "What ails thee Robin? Is it the old wound still?"

Robin considered this. "Hmm... what ails me?" He paused for dramatic purposes then shot out a trembling hand to point to where a small figure sat quietly on the edge of the bare bed.

"SHE ails me!" he cried and his voice cracked.

"That 'nun' - that... Marion - Marion my one true love - has poisoned me e'en unto death."

John's eyes widened in shock and he stepped over to the sitting woman. Marion made a slow circling motion with her hand. Her voice, as John remembered, was low and pleasing.

"Nuts," she said, "completely fuckin' nuts."

"Harlot!" yelled Robin. "Even in the holiest garb you cannot keep the coarseness from your vipers tongue!"

Marion jumped to her feet. "And who taught me such manners eh?" she snapped. "YOU i seem to recall, for and I was but a maid, and delicately so, till you in your manly shirt and tights, enfolded me in your arms as I walked the ferny brae. Remember do you, your soft impassioned words? "Alright darlin' we Saxons don't hang about, so how about my place for a quickie? I am Robin, the hooded man - I put the Long in Longbow and I never miss the target heh heh... Let's get it on, and don't believe that outlaw nonsense, I'm a charity worker really." “

Robin shook his head. "You see how she has turned against me? When our union was blessed even by the Lord Herne himself."

"You mean that drunk bloke in the deer outfit?" Marion stopped to recall. "Actually he was alright. Antlers," she giggled, "That's something you don't… ahem - every day."

Robin's face was deathly pale. "You see?" He gurgled, and turned his face to John, imploringly. "You are all I have left John, I am surrounded by the shadow of death and the touch of the Devil."

John held Robin's shoulders, keeping the proud outlaw on his feet as he moved to gaze pensively out the window at the countryside beyond.

But John was clearly shocked (again). "Robin”, he asked, "Where are the others? Where is Will Scarlet - and where is Much the Miller's Son? Surely they were here?"

Robin looked at the floor.

"Ah," he said. "Well... a little rouble there I'm afraid." He looked up once more into his old comrades eyes. "You'll help me with this bastard bow, won't you John?"

Little John looked across quickly to Marion who nodded and made a motion with her hand to demonstrate being shot full of arrows.

Alan A-Dale waved his lute, which was indeed pieced by two feathered shafts.

Naturally John was very much alarmed - though he was running out of facial expressions to show it.

Robin meantimes had slumped again, murmuring deliriously. John shook him - gently.
"Robin! Tell me - what can I do?"

The once hooded man looked up at his worried friend. "Ah," he said. "Death is close my friend and never have I needed your loyalty more."

John nodded.

"Take my sword," said Robin, "and throw it in the lake then reporteth back what thou seest and I will know if you have done as asked." He patted the big man's arm.

"But..." John said, and he flashed a look across to Marion again.

"Delusions of grandeur," Marion mouthed back.

"But..." John repeated, "My Lord, you don't have a sword - or a lake, that was King Arthur. You have your bow and a moat. I could chuck it in that if you like," he added helpfully.

Robin considered and seemed to come back to himself. "My bow is too small, " he said "I have need of yours - for where the arrow lies I wish my body buried... but my arrows are not going far enough into the greenwood."

"Or at all," muttered Marion.

"Harlot!"

"Time for your medicine my love," she said, dodging quickly past and out the room.

John meanwhile was struggling, "But you re not dying, my Lord - merely resting from age and injury."

"No!" Robin cried. "The cold hand of the tomb is upon me - I must depart." He looked angry now, snatching the great bow from the shoulder of a surprised John.

"I dunno," Robin groused, "I have to do everything myself!"

And so saying, the bow went SNAP! An arrow whizzed around the room as Alan and John dropped to the floor as fast as lightening.

"Aha!" Robin said delightedly, "You see? I - oh bolloks -"

There was a sudden hush and then finally a splash.

Slowly John and Alan got to their feet, turning to stare at the empty place where Robin had stood. "Well..." John said finally, "that's one less job to worry about."

"Aye," nodded Alan.

They turned once more as they heard Marion enter, her dainty hands clasped around the neck of a wine bottle.

"Did you really poison him?" John asked bluntly.

"Well," Marion smiled, "Why don't you boys join me upstairs for a drink - and find out for yourselves?"

.....................