The Band of Merry Kids Read online

  The town square was fairly deserted. A servant pumped water into a bucket. A few townsmen stood below an arch-way opposite his house.

  “Greetings, Little Pip,” a man with an enormous pot-belly said to him. Two men came over to join him, each with short swords dangling from their belts. The big man gave him a squinty-eyed sneer. “Is your good father off to the Bradford Fair?”

  Pip hated Hugh. He was the Baron Geoffrey’s bailiff, which meant he collected the taxes — and put people in prison if they didn’t pay.

  “Not yet. He leaves tomorrow.”

  Every year his father went to the Bradford Fair to sell blankets. Every year Pip begged to come along, and every year his father said no.

  “Are you going to the fair this year, Little Pip?” Hugh said in a teasing tone.

  “I have my studies,” Pip said.

  “No matter. It is a dull affair — so very, very dull,” Hugh said. “I have been there. Other than the jousting, the carni-val, the food markets, the jesters, the musicians, and the parades, there’s really nothing to do.”

  His two friends slapped Hugh’s back, laughing.

  Pip’s heart skipped a beat. To see an actual joust …

  “Studies are important,” Hugh continued, “especially for a Draper. You have to count how many blankets you have sold. That sounds very difficult, right, Little Pip?”

  Hugh winked elaborately, and the two men snickered.

  Pip couldn’t ignore the insult. “My father and my uncles sell their wool blankets all over the kingdom. You’re the type of person Robin Hood hates. You steal from honest people and give to horrible people like … like … the baron.”

  There. He’d said it. And it felt good.

  Hugh’s eyes narrowed. He tapped the ground with his wooden staff. “I am forgetting to whom I speak: Little Pip Draper, the son of the great and magnificent Aldwin Draper, seller of wool blankets, son of Goodwin Draper, seller of wool blankets, son of Ulric Draper, seller of wool blankets, son of Derrick Draper, seller of wool blankets — and on and on and on.” He tossed his head dismissively. “It’s late. Go inside to sup, Little Pip. Do not speak ill of great and powerful men. Learn from your father. He respects his betters.” Without warning, Hugh swung his staff and gave Pip’s bottom a good whack. “And mind your manners, or I’ll teach them to you.”

  The staff stung, and Pip stifled a tear.

  “You couldn’t teach a rock to stay still,” Pip shot back.

  “Why, I’ll teach you to …” Hugh swung his staff again, harder this time, only Pip was ready, and he hopped back. Hugh missed completely, and his momentum made him spin on one foot — and then fall to the ground.

  Hugh’s friends burst out laughing. Pip had suffered at the hand of Hugh’s temper many times, and he had no desire to give him another chance with that staff. Pip took off and ran to his home, locking the door behind him. His father was seated in the main room reading some papers spread out on a table. He put his plume down and gave Pip a questioning look.

  “You have good timing, Pip. Roxanna is almost finished preparing supper,” Aldwin said.

  Hugh began pounding on the door. “I know you’re in there, rascal. Open the door immediately. Do not dare disobey me.”

  Aldwin pursed his lips. “Any idea why Hugh wants to knock down our door?” he said.

  “Maybe he wants to borrow some eggs?” Pip said.

  Hugh pounded on the door again.

  Aldwin made a sour face. “I suppose I need to answer. He’s not the type to give up.”

  “Aldwin, I have had enough of that boy of yours — and his bad manners,” Hugh roared when the door opened. “He is disrespectful. He insulted the baron. He is intolerably rude and … and … disrespectful.”

  “Thank you, Hugh. I shall speak to him. This rudeness … and being disrespectful … it is a problem,” Aldwin said.

  Hugh huffed and puffed a few times. “Well … precisely. And what shall be done about it?” he said, his eyes bulging.

  “I will speak to Pip presently.”

  “Let me say that I have never been —”

  “Good day, Hugh, and best regards to your father.”

  Aldwin shut the door.

  Pip couldn’t hold it in, and he burst out laughing. His father’s lips curled in the briefest of smiles.

  “That’s enough, Pip,” he said. “He’ll hear you, and besides, we most certainly do not need any trouble from him, his father, or Baron Geoffrey.” Aldwin became more serious. “We have talked about this before. You must be respectful. Hugh can make life difficult for us, not to mention the baron.”

  “Hugh is disrespectful, not me,” Pip shot back. “He insulted the Draper name. He said all we’ve ever done is sell wool blankets and —”

  “Pip, that is what we do,” Aldwin said. “How is that an insult?”

  Pip wanted to scream. His father was afraid of anyone who worked for the baron, and he was terrified of the Sheriff of Nottingham’s soldiers. He was even afraid of saying King Richard’s name out loud — or Robin Hood’s. “Hugh made it sound bad. He insulted us because …” He struggled for the words. “We’re not just blanket sellers.”

  “That’s enough for me,” Aldwin began. “You must appreciate —”

  “I don’t appreciate being laughed at by all the country kids and insulted by all the townspeople,” Pip said. “You should be angry, too. They laugh at us — and our stupid blankets.”

  “Those blankets keep you warm at night,” Aldwin said, his voice rising slightly. “And the money we make from those blankets puts food on our table and a roof over our heads.”

  “I’d rather be cold and sleep outside than be a coward,” Pip said. A bitter taste rose in his mouth. “Robin Hood wouldn’t let himself be insulted by an ugly, stupid man like Hugh — or Baron Geoffrey. Nobody tells Robin Hood what to do, not even Prince John!”

  He pictured Robin Hood beating Johnson with his own whip. Aldwin closed his eyes for a moment, and when they opened his expression was calm and relaxed. “Okay, Little Pip. Perhaps we should talk about this another time.”

  “I’m not afraid of Hugh,” Pip said. He couldn’t help him-self. “And Robin Hood’s not afraid, either.”

  Aldwin collected the papers into a single pile. “I suppose. Now let’s get ready for dinner. Lucy and Harold are coming.”

  “I know,” Pip snapped.

  “I thought it would be a nice way to thank your uncles and aunts for taking care of you when I’m in Bradford.”

  “I don’t see why I can’t come to the fair. I’m not a little boy,” Pip said.

  Aldwin sighed and got up. “We’ve been over this many times. I’ll be very busy, and I won’t have time to take care of you. It will be fun.”

  “It will be boring,” Pip said.

  He loved his cousins. They were his best friends. He just hated the idea of being left home when there was adventure to be had. Harold was afraid of his own shadow — he’d be happy to stay in Nottinghamshire for the rest of his life. Lucy was more courageous, but she usually did what her parents asked and didn’t like to cause trouble.

  “Did you pick up the bread?” Aldwin said in an even tone.

  Pip couldn’t tell him what had happened. “Sorry — I lost the penny playing in the forest.”

  Aldwin looked up at the ceiling. “Sometimes, Pip …” His voice trailed off. “No matter. I believe Roxanna baked a loaf. We’ll make do with one tonight. Please go wash up before we sup. Hurry along. You’re dusty from head to toe like a peasant after a day cutting the baron’s hay.”

  “I don’t need to …”

  A chubby-faced older woman with graying hair and a stooped back came into the room holding a big wooden spoon.

  “Wash up,” Roxanna ordered.

  She’d been his family’s servant since before he
was born — more like a second mother, really. Pip shook his head angrily and marched to the back room. He paused at the door just out of view to listen.

  “He is so young, and it’s only been three years,” Roxanna said in a hushed tone.

  “You need not remind me of that,” Aldwin said.

  “Of course. I’m just saying we mustn’t be too harsh with him.”

  “He has his Great-Grandpa Ulric’s temper, that’s for sure,” Aldwin said. “I do worry about our dear Little Pip. We live in such difficult times — and men have been put in jail for far less than insulting the baron.”

  “He must learn to respect dangerous men and be more like you,” Roxanna said. “His youth will not protect him for-ever, and he grows bolder, it seems, every day. So much trouble in our little town lately, especially with those Merry Men and that Robin Hood. Why do they keep stealing money from the landowners and attacking the Sheriff of Nottingham’s soldiers? It only makes Prince John and the sheriff cross.”

  Aldwin shrugged. “I sell wool blankets. I am not con-cerned with Prince John, or whether we should call him King John, and neither am I concerned with his brother Richard the Lionheart — or Robin Hood, for that matter. I suppose Robin Hood and his Merry Men believe their cause is just. I just wish to be left in peace.”

  “I told you no good would come of Pip pretending to be Robin Hood,” Roxanna said. “It is now against the law to even mention his name. Pip must be careful. And that hat? You must stop him, or he might be arrested.” She let out a sob.

  “Aye, you’re right, Roxanna. Perhaps I have been too … indulgent,” Aldwin said. “It’s all nonsense, this ‘steal from the rich and give to the poor.’”

  “I was told the other day that Robin Hood keeps the money he steals from the landowners and the tax collectors for himself and never gives a penny to the poor,” Roxanna said. “That makes him nothing but a common thief.”

  “I imagine you’re right,” Aldwin said.

  Pip was so mad it took all his self-control not to run back in and tell his father and Roxanna off. He’d explain how Robin Hood only took money from bad people who got rich by stealing from the poor. He stomped into the kitchen and dipped a cloth into a water cistern. The cool water felt good as he wiped his face and hands.

  Roxanna came in. “Did you have a fun day?”

  “Yeah, I guess,” he mumbled.

  Roxanna gave Pip a close look.

  “Have we gotten into some mischief, Little Pip? You seem upset,” Roxanna said.

  He’d been called Little Pip by his family ever since he could remember. Lately, he’d begun to hate it.

  “It was a dull day is all,” Pip said quietly.

  Roxanna placed a platter in his hands, with stewed rabbit and carrots, turnips, and dried fish. “Take this to the table, please,” she said.

  He carried it back with a heavy heart. Pip wasn’t going to waste his life selling wool blankets. He would do so much more. He would join Robin Hood and his Merry Men and fight Prince John and the Sheriff of Nottingham. He would help Richard the Lionheart regain his rightful place as king of England. He would have adventures and be famous.

  He would do it, too.

  Because he wasn’t a coward like his father.

  ip placed the platter on the table. The front door opened, and in came Lucy and Harold.

  “How’s Pipper,” Lucy cried out. “Back to your usual happy self?”

  She grabbed him around the shoulders and pulled him in tight for a hug. Lucy shared her father’s incredible strength, and Pip struggled for breath.

  “Hi, Pip,” Harold said quietly.

  Lucy let him go. “I could eat two of Baron Geoffrey’s prized cows. Where’s the food, Roxanna? You going to starve us to death again?”

  Pip laughed in spite of himself. She made that joke every time she came for supper, which was often — they practi-cally lived at each other’s houses — and somehow she always made it funny. Lucy was just like that.

  “My dear Lucy and Harold, come sit,” Aldwin said. “Tomorrow I must go to the Bradford Fair yet again, and I shall not have the pleasure of seeing you for six long, tiring days.”

  Pip couldn’t resist. “You should let me come. I could help, and it would not be so tiring.”

  Aldwin tried to ruffle Pip’s hair, but he pulled away.

  “That’s my Little Pip, always looking for an adventure,” Aldwin said, laughing.

  “I want to see the fair and the jousting and —”

  “Welcome, children,” Roxanna said. She put a pitcher and a loaf of bread on the table. “Let’s sit. No one wants cold food.”

  They took their places around the table.

  “It looks wonderful, Roxanna, as usual,” Lucy said.

  “You have such good manners,” Roxanna said. She gave Pip a glance.

  The fresh bread smelled so sweet Pip couldn’t resist, and he reached out to tear off a chunk.

  “Pip!” Aldwin said sharply. “We have not yet said grace.”

  Pip put his hands in his lap. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Lucy stick out her tongue. It took all his willpower not to giggle.

  They lowered their heads and clasped their hands. Aldwin began to say grace. Pip looked up. Lucy was sticking her tongue out again. He stuck his tongue out and put his thumbs in his ears and wagged his fingers.

  Aldwin finished. “Pip, I will send you to your room with-out dinner if I ever see such behavior during grace again. Do you hear me?” he said.

  “Sorry, Father. I was …” He couldn’t tattle on Lucy. “I’m sorry,” he managed.

  “Can I serve you, Roxanna?” Aldwin said.

  Pip couldn’t remember a time when Roxanna hadn’t eaten with them. Other people in the town had learned about it, and kids would tease Pip, saying he was a peasant because he ate with servants. When he was young he’d complained about it to his mother. She’d scolded him.

  “We are all God’s creatures. Never forget that. I love Roxanna dearly, and so she will eat at our table, always,” she’d said.

  Tears welled up, and Pip had to take a few deep breaths to calm himself. Had it been three years since his mother had died? Sometimes it hit him so hard he could barely stand, and it was all he could do to stop from dropping to his knees and sobbing. He could be anywhere — playing with Lucy and Harold, shooting arrows with the country kids, or like now just having supper. He missed her every day. His mother had made life wonderful. He’d been so happy when they were all together. His dad had been happier too. He could tell. All his father did now was worry about how many blankets he’d sold or whether the booth would be ready for the Bradford Fair.

  Lucy pushed the bread plate to Pip. “Have a piece.”

  Pip took a chunk and waited while his father served them. Aldwin served himself last.

  “Children, what did you do this afternoon after your lessons?” he said.

  Lucy lowered her leg of rabbit. “We played … in the forest,” she said.

  Pip pushed his plate away. The memory took away his appetite.

  The door opened, and an elderly man entered.

  “Good evening, Master Aldwin, children, Roxanna. I will come back after supper. I apologize,” he said.

  “Not at all, Edmond,” Aldwin said. “Please come in. Are you hungry? We have plenty. Join us.”

  Edmond’s rough, calloused hands and stooped back spoke to a life of hard work. He’d only recently become their servant. He used be one of the baron’s peasants, but he was no longer able to work in the fields because of his age and poor health. Aldwin had purchased his freedom. Edmond took his hat off and pressed it to his chest, bowing slightly.

  “I thank you, Master Aldwin. I have had my fill. Miss Roxanna was kind enough to give me a plate earlier.”

  “You are always welcome at our table,” Aldwin said, w
ith a half-smile.

  Edmond shifted back and forth on his feet and spun his hat around in his hands. “The cart is prepared for tomorrow, Master Aldwin,” he said.

  “Thank you, Edmond,” Aldwin said. “I will leave before dawn, as planned. I would like to get to Ackerley’s Inn at Hogg’s Pass for the night so as to arrive at Bradford by lunch the next day.”

  Edmond nodded. “Is there anything else you require, Master Aldwin?”

  “You’ve exceeded my expectations,” Aldwin said.

  “I have set up my bedding in the barn to guard the wagon,” Edmond said. “I shall retire for the night if there is nothing else.”

  “I will send you a warm drink,” Roxanna said.

  “Thank you for the kindness, Miss Roxanna,” Edmond said. He bowed again and left.

  “Did Pip tell you about the peasants?” Harold said.

  Pip shot Harold a desperate look. His father wouldn’t let him leave the town walls if he found out.

  “No, we didn’t have much time to talk. What happened?” Aldwin said. “Lucy, more rabbit?”

  “Thanks, Uncle Aldwin.” She took a couple of pieces and some vegetables.

  “It’s nothing,” Pip said. “I’ll tell you later.”

  “Please, it sounds interesting,” Aldwin pressed.

  “Not really,” Pip said.

  “A man named Johnson began to beat some peasants who were walking past us in the forest,” Harold said, not taking the hint. “Pip told him to stop, and the man hit Pip and knocked him to the ground.”

  Aldwin gave a start and tried to grab Pip’s hand, but Pip pulled away.

  “It wasn’t like that,” Pip said. “He didn’t really hit me — at least, not too hard.”

  “How can you say that?” Aldwin said. “A man hit you? Who was he?”

  “I think he works for the baron,” Harold said.

  Aldwin tilted his head to one side. “You say his name is Johnson?”

  Harold and Lucy nodded. Pip was steaming mad. Pip couldn’t do anything without his father finding out.