IT WAS MAY day, and Philippa had brought her family to the Forestwife’s clearing to celebrate. They raised a maypole on the grass before the trysting tree. Emma carried flowers to decorate the pole, her fine daughter strapped to her chest.
Philippa’s children ran to Marian, who sat by the cottage door. They presented bunches of flowers to the Forestwife, and to the older woman who sat at her side.
The Seeress smiled, and lifted the flowers to her face. She turned to Marian. ‘I never thought to see a day like this.’
In the distance there came the sound of heavy hooves, and the creak of wagon wheels going at a good pace through the forest tracks. Marian got to her feet, fearing trouble.
At last a great ox-cart rumbled into the clearing. Emma cried out with pleasure, for John held the reins. Robert rode astride the ox, his head wrapped still in the green hood.
Marian stared and went over to them, puzzled.
Robert jumped down, smiling.
‘We’ve brought a real ox for you this time.’
‘What can this be?’ she asked.
He bowed, with a flourish. ‘’Tis peas and barley and cornmeal and grain, all for the Forestwife.’
She shook her head in amazement.
‘’Tis a long story,’ Robert shifted uncomfortably. ‘But I fear I can have no more to do with King Richard.’
Marian stared at him in disbelief. She reached up and took his arm.
They went slowly hand in hand to stand by Agnes’s grave. Robert spoke with quiet despair. Marian found his broken spirit harder to bear than recklessness.
He told her how they’d helped Bishop Hugh to take Tickhill Castle, and how they’d then marched with him to Nottingham to support the King. Nottingham Castle had been taken, but they’d had to fight for it.
‘Then the King called for a great council,’ Robert waved his arms dramatically at the yew trees. ‘I thought ’twould be the longed-for day of justice, the day we’ve waited for. Richard sacked the sheriffs – and how we all cheered. I thought ’twas good King Arthur come back to us.’
‘What then?’ Marian asked.
Robert frowned, and shook his head. ‘Why then . . . he roared and ranted that we’d had it easy. We’d been safe at home while he went fighting wars. We’d been mean and slow to raise his ransom. Now we must find more money, so that he may go to fight for his lands in France.’
‘Nay!’
‘True enough,’ Robert’s face was pale with anger.
‘’Tis just as Agnes said.’
‘Aye.’ He sighed and shook his head again. ‘I rage against myself that I would not listen. Now the King has sold the sheriffs back their jobs.’
‘What?’
Robert laughed with bitterness. ‘Aye, Nottinghamshire has bought his way back into power again, and we may whistle for our pardons.’
‘What will you do?’
Robert took her hand, and suddenly the old fire flashed in his eyes. ‘I cannot serve my King – I shall serve thee instead. I know you cannot wed, but I shall be the Knight of the Forestwife, devoted to the Sisters of the Magdalen.’
Her mouth parted in a wondering smile. His wild zeal had taken a new and hopeful turn. He spoke with excitement of his plans. ‘If I can raise money for a king’s ransom, then I can raise money to buy grain. Fat bishops and rich lords who travel the great road shall all make a contribution. Next winter will be harsh indeed, but those who seek the Forestwife – they shall be fed.’
He knelt down before her, wrapping his arms around her waist, hiding his face against her stomach.
Tears poured from Marian’s eyes as she bent down, over his hooded head. ‘Come, get up, dear Rob,’ she whispered, ‘for I, too, have much to tell, and someone for you to meet.’ She wiped her eyes and smiled at him. ‘Look, they have set the maypole by the trysting tree. And though the Forestwife may not be wed, each May Day she shall dance with the green man.’
