Chapter 10 Robin Hood Finds Curdle Friar.
The next morning, Robin and the Merry Men sprang out of bed at first light.
They had to find the Curdle Friar, a fountain's abbey, quickly if they hoped to stop Ellen's wedding.
Will Scarlet knew the way to the abbey, so he led the others.
The path took them through woods they had never traveled.
Just after noon, they reached a broad, fast-flowing river.
In a bit, we will come to a shallow place in the river, Will said.
We can wade across there.
Robin shook his head.
I think I should go the rest of the way alone.
If I have any trouble, I will blow my bugle three times.
About ten minutes after leaving his men, Robin suddenly stopped and listened for a moment.
That's strange.
It seems I am hearing two voices, yet they sound almost the same.
What is going on, he wondered.
Peering through the trees, Robin saw a fat friar sitting on the riverbank.
He was a jolly-looking fellow with a thick neck and bright red cheeks.
Between his legs sat a big meat pie.
In one hand he held a bottle, the other hand clutched a crust of pie.
Oh, good fellow, the friar said.
You are the best friend I could ever have.
Then a different voice responded.
Why, thank you, brother.
I do appreciate your kindness.
The friar replied in the first voice.
Why, thank you, brother.
You must try this pie.
Robin held in his laughter.
When the friar finished his meal, he rubbed his hands together then said Good friend, I have enjoyed this meal.
I would like it so very much if you would sing a bit for me.
The second voice said, I would love to, but I won't sing alone.
Will you join me?
The friar nodded and began to sing in a strong, deep voice.
Robin chuckled quietly.
He knew the tune, so he began to sing along.
Startled, the friar struggled clumsily to his feet.
He drew his broadsword from its scabbard and cried out Show yourself and I'll carve you like a Sunday roast beef.
Robin emerged from his hiding place.
Oh, good brother, put your sword away.
Haven't we shared a song?
Why should we fight?
I'll tell you, good friend, the song has left me parched.
Have you any drink to wash my throat?
The friar lowered his sword glumly.
You seem to be very comfortable barging in where you are not invited, but I am a Christian and cannot refuse drink to a thirsty man.
He held out the bottle.
Robin grabbed it, threw his head back, and drank until the bottle was empty.
The friar snatched the bottle back and peered inside.
He turned the bottle upside down and shook it, but nothing came out.
Then he pursed his lips and glared.
Ignoring the look, Robin asked Do you know of a certain one who goes by the name of Curdle Friar of Fountains Abbey?
Yeah, a bit, replied the friar.
Well then, good father or friar, or whatever you are said Robin, I would like to know whether he will be found on this side of the river or the other.
I advise you to set foot on that side of the river and find out for yourself, snapped the friar.
Well, good friar, as you can see, my clothes are of fine quality, Robin explained.
I don't want to get them wet.
You have broad, strong shoulders.
Would you mind carrying me across?
The friar turned as red as an apple.
You little runt, he shouted.
Do you dare ask that I carry you across?
Then the anger left his face and his eyes twinkled once more.
Why should I not?
Climb up on my back.
I will carry you safely across the river.
The friar bent down and then suddenly straightened up again.
I think you will get your weapon wet, young master.
Let me tuck your sword under my arm to keep it dry.
No, good father, I wouldn't have you carry any more, protested Robin.
Don't you think that the good Saint Christopher would have carried it for you?
Now, give your weapon to me.
Robin unbuckled his sword and climbed up on the friar's back.
The strong friar easily carried Robin across the stream.
When they reached the other side, Robin jumped down.
Please, give me my sword, quickly.
I am in a hurry.
The friar smiled.
You have business on this side of the river, but I have my own business, young master.
My business is on the other side.
I am no longer a young man.
I am sure that if I wade through the river once more, I will develop cricks and pains in my back.
He whittled.
Please do me the favor of carrying me across.
Robin looked up and down the river. to sneak, he sputtered.
Hurry, young man, warned the friar, unless you want to feel the nip of steel against your flesh.
You win, Robin said coldly.
I will carry you.
Give me my sword.
I won't use it against you.
The friar eyed Robin warily.
Here is your skewer.
Now, quickly, haul me across the river.
Robin bent down.
The friar leaped onto his back, and Robin stepped into the flowing stream.
The friar was much fatter than Robin, so Robin's load across the river was much greater than the friar's had been.
The friar dug his heels into Robin's side as if he were a donkey.
Robin didn't know the wave as well as the friar, so he stumbled every few steps.
At every stumble, however, Robin reached up and loosened the friar's sword belt.
When they reached the opposite side, Robin pulled the belt off.
The friar did not feel it and jumped down.
Now Robin held the friar's sword as well as his own.
The friar looked at Robin intently.
I didn't take you for such a clever lad.
You have gotten the better of me.
Give me my sword and I will carry you back to the other side.
Robin returned the sword belt and the friar buckled it securely around his waist.
Robin merrily jumped up on the friar's back and prodded the friar along with his heels, as the friar had done to him.
When they reached the middle of the river, the friar stopped to rest for a moment.
Suddenly he stood upright and flipped Robin over his back.
There, crowed the friar, let that cool your hot spirit.
Robin landed in the cold water with a great splash.
Stumbling to his feet, he coughed water from his nose and mouth.
I will slice you to bits this day, villain, Robin swore.
He scampered up the riverbank, drew his sword, planted his feet, and waited.
The friar still stood in the middle of the river.
Don't worry, I will join you shortly.
Then I will make you beg for mercy.
Slowly, the friar hauled himself up the bank and drew his sword.
The two men came together with a furious clash.
The clang of metal rang through the forest for an hour, but neither man wounded the other.
They stopped to rest, hands on their knees, panting heavily.
Looking at each other, they shook their heads.
Then they fought again.
At last Robin said, Hold your hand, good fellow.
Weary, both men lowered their swords.
The friar thought it would be a terrible thing to wound so strong an opponent.
Robin thought the same.
Let me do one thing, Robin gasped.
What would that be? wheezed the friar.
Let me blow on this horn three times.
I think you have a trick up your sleeve, the friar said, breathing hard, but...
I don't fear you.
I will let you blow on your horn three times if you will let me blow my whistle.
Agreed, said Robin, but I will go first.
He raised the bugle and blew three long, clear blasts.
A moment later, Robin's companions came running.
Their bows were drawn, ready to shoot.
So that's your trick, cried the friar.
Well, this is mine.
He blew his little silver whistle.
A sharp, high note rang out.
Suddenly, four fierce hounds burst from the thicket.
Get them, sweet lips, bell throat, beauty, fang, get them, the friar shouted.
The dogs charged.
Each man except for Will Scarlet drew back an arrow and let it fly.
The dogs leapt out of the way.
As the arrows whistled past, the dogs snatched them from the air and snapped them in their dripping jaws.
Then the dogs charged again.
Will Scarlet stepped toward them with his hand out, and they stopped.
As he patted their heads, they lapped at his palms.
Like Are you a wizard that you can turn these wolves into lambs?
Wondered the friar.
He looked carefully at Will's face.
Can I trust my eyes?
What does it mean that I see young Will Gamwell in such poor company?
Hello, Tuck, Will greeted him.
My name is no longer Gamwell.
Men call me Will Scarlet.
This is my good uncle, Robin Hood.
I live with him in Sherwood Forest.
The friar's jaw dropped.
He held out his hand.
I have heard your name often, good master.
I never thought to meet you in battle.
Please forgive me.
Now I know why you were so stout an opponent.
The friar turned back to Will Scarlet.
How is it that you live in Sherwood now?
Have you not heard about the events that befell me? asked Will.
The friar shook his head grimly.
Yes, I have.
It's a great shame that a gentleman should be forced to hide because of an accident.
Robin Hood was growing impatient.
We don't have much time.
I've yet to find this Colonel Fryer.
Will Scarlet started to laugh.
He looked at Robin and then at the friar.
Good uncle, you don't have to go far.
He's standing right beside you.
Robin turned on the friar.
You, you're the man I've been looking for all day.
Truly, said the friar, some do call me the Colonel Friar of the Fountain Dale.
Others called me the Abbot of the Fountain's Abbey as a joke.
Still, others call me Simple Friar Tuck.
I like the last name best, said Robin.
Why didn't you tell me who you are instead of sending me on a wild goose chase?
You did not ask, good master, said Friar Tuck meekly.
What do you desire from me?
Robin glanced at the sun.
The day is getting late and we can't waste any more time.
Come with us to Sherwood and I will tell you along the way.
He whistled for the dogs which bounded along with them.
They departed on the trip back to Sherwood, all six men with the dogs following at their heels.
It was long past nightfall by the time they reached the greenwood.
