Robin of the Greenhood: A Tale of Secrets and Adventure

By William H.C. Hatteroth III

The story teller begins his three part tale with Robin of the Green Hood. This story tells about a secret weapon, a school that has many secrets, and a man named Springfield, who is not the man he claims to be. All is revealed as a young boy, Robert of Loxley, grows to young adulthood and becomes Robin of the Greenhood.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: May 17, 2019
• ISBN: 9781796034172

William H.C. Hatteroth III

The author was born in 1948. He was awarded the Eagle Scout Badge in 1962. In high school, he was a three-year varsity athlete in Swimming, which he expanded on by working with the Red Cross to teach Swimming to disabled children. After working over forty years for other people, William started his own business. For fun, he became involved in Community Theater, as well as becoming an award winning magician. Through these venues, he is still actively supporting many local find-raisers, charities and community activities.

Book preview

CHAPTER 1

Robin’s adventure started before his birth. Sir William of Loxley, Robin’s father-to-be, and his lifelong friend Nigel Lonetrees had spent the day hunting in Sherwood Forest. Sir William was the type of man who did not require dogs or birds to hunt but relied on skill alone. Now after a long day of no success, the men found themselves in front of a stream. Climbing down the embankment and avoiding the thorns of the thick wild blackberry bushes that ran up and down both sides of the cut, the men stopped at a sandy clearing. Sitting next to the stream, William removed his boots and allowed the cold water from the stream to wash over his weary and swollen naked feet. The feeling of relaxation swept over William, placing him in a dreamlike state. The world seemed to drift away. Nigel, knowing his friend well, nodded, sat down next to his companion. He leaned back, resting his head lightly against a rock. Countless minutes passed. The sky, which was once a bright pale blue, was changing to a deep purple.

When William stirred, Nigel spoke. We should return soon.

Soon, William replied. His attention was not on his friend but on a bird in the sky. As the bird grew closer, William could just make out a falcon that had come out for his evening meal. William’s focus stayed on the bird for several minutes. Nigel had picked up a stick and was using it to catapult small rocks into the water. The falcon went into hunting mode, changing his lazy circles to sharper, tighter ones. William searched up and down the stream, trying to find what the falcon was focused on. Then, as if it had just appeared, William saw a robin standing as still as a statue on the bank across from him. Surely this was the falcon’s prey, but what was a robin doing this time of year? Look there, a robin! William was pointing at the opposite bank.

Nigel looked up from launching rocks into the water. Where?

There, on the far side! Straight in front of us, not even a foot from the bank.

Yes, I see it now. It’s not spring is it?

No.

Then … ?

William raised his shoulders. I don’t know.

Standing now, the two men were in the perfect position to watch the drama unfold. The falcon broke from its circle, going into a controlled dive straight at the robin. William’s gaze went from the falcon back to the robin. The robin seemed to be looking into William’s eyes. William knew the falcon was much faster than the robin. This falcon would have his prize. Down the falcon came, while the robin remained steadfast. The falcon started to level off just a few yards away. William knew the robin’s fate was sealed. The robin continued to stare at William, completely unaware of his impending doom. The falcon was now level with the ground, talons outstretched. The hunt was over.

At the last possible second, the robin broke his stare with William, turned his head to the side, and took three hops, dropping off the bank and down into the blackberry bushes below. The falcon, just seconds behind his prey, made a split-second adjustment and followed the robin over the embankment, straight toward the blackberry bushes. The falcon, realizing his mistake, strained every muscle in his body to pull up. His efforts, however, were in vain. The falcon slammed into the blackberry bushes with such speed and force the sound of it could be heard for miles. Before anyone could draw a breath, the falcon was out the other side and heading straight at the two spectators.

Both men broke for cover. Nigel dove to his left, landing flat on his face in a pile of leaves, twigs, and rocks. William went to his right, doing a belly flop in the stream.

You OK, Nigel? William managed to speak after spitting out a mouthful of water.

Fine. Only my nose and my pride took the hit, replied Nigel, rubbing his nose. Guess I’ll live.

Both men were laughing as they rejoined each other on the beach. The falcon was now lying in the exact spot William had been sitting earlier. The blackberry thorns had shown no mercy. This bird of prey would hunt no more. As if by silent communication, both men looked to the area where the robin had stood earlier. On cue, the robin popped out of the blackberry bushes back onto the bank, then took three hops and stopped in the exact spot William had first noticed him. The robin looked William in the eyes, and William returned his gaze. Both man and bird were locked together until Nigel touched William’s arm.

William turned to Nigel with wonder in his eyes. Did you see that?

Saying nothing, Nigel only nodded his head yes. William turned toward where the robin had been standing, only to see the bird had vanished. He felt sadness and joy sweep over him. With a slight smile on his lips and a small shake of his head, he turned back toward Nigel, who was rubbing his nose. Well, my friend, that’s enough of a day for me. I say we head home.

With laughter in his voice and still rubbing his nose, Nigel replied, That sounds oh so very good to me.

The walk to where the horses had been tethered was around two miles. The first half mile was traveled in silence. Then without prompting, Nigel began laughing. Catching his breath, he said, That robin—he was dead by all accounts. Tell me your thoughts, William. Was it luck, by chance, the robin lived?

William pondered this question for a time. The way I saw it, Nigel, that robin knew exactly what he was doing. That robin not only saved his own life, he removed all threat to the other birds in that part of Sherwood.

Nigel rubbed his chin. That’s truly remarkable. Breaking stride, he bounded ahead of William and turned backward to face him. Walking backward, Nigel announced, Then this story must be told, for I know no other robin as cunning as this one.

Yes, Nigel. There was excitement in William’s voice. You’re right, but we must take care to make this story a good one.

The rest of the walk was taken up with the telling of the tale of the falcon and the robin. The story was so finely tuned by the time the two reached their horses all that was needed was a pat on the back by William and a handshake by Nigel. Parting to mount their horses, they both looked back to give each other a nod of satisfaction. The two men were off, both filled with the knowledge that this was indeed a successful day after all.

Sir William’s home was actually an estate. The manor home was three stories high with forty-one private bedrooms, not including the servants’ quarters. The structure sat on an island. The river that ran from the north split, running around both sides of a two-acre piece of land, only to rejoin and continue its run southeast. The manor house with stables rested comfortably in the middle of this piece of land. Although the river was very wide in places, it ran swiftly enough so that over the centuries, the water had dug a fifteen-foot gorge. Thus the only entrance to Sir William’s home was across a drawbridge. Fifteen hundred acres had been cleared from the drawbridge side of the river. In this clearing sat seventy-five cottages. This village was comprised of farmers, dairymen, butcher, bakers, blacksmiths, and coopers—all that were needed for it to be self-sustained. The rest of Sir William’s land was Sherwood Forest.

Darkness was upon the two riders, but neither man had concerns. The moon was up, and the horses knew the way. Nigel was the first to notice. Look there, torches. The villagers are up.

Yes, I see them now. Use caution.

Only moments later, voices could be heard. There, there he is. Here, Sir William, over here.

The two men brought their horses to a stop in front of a very large crowd. Sir William spoke. Now tell me, what is this about?

One man spoke up. His name was Jon Gable the Blacksmith. My lord, we are all proud to be the first to congratulate you.

What are you saying, man? Get to it. While William was not usually gruff with the villagers, he was overly tired; and home, comfort, and family were being postponed by this event. All he wanted was to resolve it quickly.

You have a new, son, my lord, Jon blurted out.

The words struck William like a bolt of lightning. Filled with new energy, he yelled, Make way! Urging his horse to a full gallop, he charged full-on toward his house.

It took a second longer for Nigel to react, saying, Thank you all. He too was off.

Entering the courtyard, William’s horse had not even come to a full stop when William leaped off, hitting the ground in a run. Up the stairs and into the house he charged, increased his speed with every stride. William knew his house well; in spite of this, all along his route, there were servants standing like signposts, each one with their arm outstretched to point the way. They were stationed all along the way. There was even one at the foot of the stairs pointing up. William raced past all without acknowledging their presence. Reaching his wife, Lady Francis, William collapsed on the bed beside her. He tried to kiss her, but he was so out of breath from the run that all he could do was breathe hard puffs of air into her face.

Oh, William, she sighed. I have given you a son.

William, still unable to kiss or speak, grabbed his wife and held her tight. They continued to hold each other for several minutes, each enjoying the comfort of the other’s arms. Finally able to breathe normally, William started to shower her with a frenzy of kisses, which started her giggling. Without resisting his advances, she held his head and placed it gently on her chest. It was then she drifted off to sleep. William continued to hold his wife all through the night, only to wake the next morning to discover he hadn’t even removed his boots.

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Nigel arrived just in time to see William disappear through the door. Smiling, he took a moment to rub his nose then he dismounted, gathered his and William’s horses, and slowly walked them toward the stables. Turning back to take one last look at the front door, He nodded his head. He knew there was nothing he was needed for, and so he busied himself with the cooling and the bedding down of the horses.

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Word quickly spread through the house and the village that there was to be a party, so the servants and the villagers busied themselves with the preparations. When William’s first son was born, there was a party unmatched anywhere, the likes of which no one had seen hence. The newborn party promised to be just as good. Sir William’s guests started arriving on the third day. That night, the house rang out with the noise of a huge celebration. The food and drink flowed like the river outside. Dancing, singing, merriment of all kinds was the theme of this party; and the guests did their part to make it so. Some guests brought musicians, and some brought jugglers. Entertainers of all sorts stood at the ready to show the guests their many delights. Around ten that evening, William slipped away from the festivities, found Nigel and Willy, his firstborn, and led them off to the part of the house that was off-limits to the guests. This area was where mother and newborn could go about their business without disturbance. Entering a large living room area, William asked that all make themselves comfortable by the fire.

Nigel sat first, drawing Willy onto his lap. Lady Francis, with babe in arms, kissed William’s cheek lightly and found her favorite chair.

After everyone was settled in, William announced, I have brought you together. He broke into a smile and a half laugh. That sounded like I was about to make a speech.

Nigel nodded his head in agreement while Willy laughed. Willy was only three, but he understood silly things quite well.

William continued, It has been three days, and our son has not been named. It is my feeling that, well, Willy was named after me. This boy—he bent down and took the baby into his arms—our son, should be named after your father, dear wife.

Then, dear husband, we are in agreement. Standing beside William, Lady Francis took the baby from him. Holding him in her out stretched arms, she turned toward Nigel. She cleared her throat. Let me introduce to you, Sir Nigel Lonetrees, and to you, Willy—excuse me, William of Loxley—our new son, Robert of Loxley.

The laughter and clapping of hands by Nigel and Willy was finally interrupted by William. William raised his hands. Now, I think, is the perfect time to tell our new story! Nigel, feel free to help me in the telling.

Nigel was touching his nose as he whispered something to Willy that made him laugh. Nigel looked up at William and gave him a salute. Thus the story began. When the story was finished, Willy was the first to speak, the words coming out of his mouth faster than any horse could run.

I like that robin, Daddy. I really like him a lot. Can I call Robert Robin, Daddy? Would you be mad? You call me Willy when my name is William. Can I please call him Robin? Please, please, Daddy. Willy was now bouncing on Nigel’s lap.

Nigel’s look of discomfort told William he needed to speak quickly.

William reached down and grabbed Willy under his arms. He lifted him high over his head. In one motion, he turned Willy and, placing him on his shoulders, he asked, Well, Mother, what do you think?

Nigel spoke up. For a boy of his age, Willy makes a good appeal.

Yes, yes, you may call Robert Robin, William agreed. But only as long as he allows it. Now hold fast, Willy. This horse you sit upon is taking you to your bed. Off William trotted with Willy holding on tightly to his forehead.

Willy’s laughter was interrupted only when he gave the command, Faster, Daddy, faster.

CHAPTER 2

It was the sixth winter since Robert’s birth. The day was warmer than most, which brought the hope of spring. Henry, a longtime employee and trusted servant, entered Willy’s bedroom area. William was playfully practicing sword fighting with Willy. William had a full-size wooden practice sword, while Willy’s sword was made for a young boy. William was defending himself when Henry spoke.

My lord. Henry bowed at the waist.

William’s attention went to Henry, giving Willy the opening to land a blow to his stomach.

I got you! Willy screamed with joy.

Just a minute, Willy. Let me talk to Henry. William turned. Yes, Henry? William laid down his wooden sword, giving Henry his full attention.

A minstrel has arrived, asking if he may entertain this evening. Henry relaxed a little and continued, "He is dressed well,