Holy Warrior by Angus Donald Read Free Book Online Page B

it is, sir, I will do anything.’
    ‘There is an object, a jewel of great price that rightfully belongs to Robin’s lady Marie-Anne. But Sir Ralph Murdac has stolen it. He wears this jewel around his neck every day - have you seen it? It is a great red ruby - I want you to help me reclaim it for its rightful owner.’
    He didn’t even blink at the thought of daylight robbery, but agreed immediately, working his head as vigorously as before; and I knew he was going to fit in fine with Robin’s men. So I put my arm around William’s shoulder and quietly explained to him what we were going to do and how it would be done.
     
    I stayed in Nottingham for two more days, but not at the castle. I could not bear to remain there, where I might be called back into the presence of Prince John for another round of musical humiliation. I stayed instead at the house of an old friend, Albert, a crony from my days as a snot-nosed street-thief, when I would cut away the purses of rich merchants and rely on the thickness of the market crowds to hide me as I made my escape. Albert was an honest man now, and married; he lived in a one-room hovel in the poorest part of the old English borough of Nottingham. So he knew better than to ask about the job I was planning; he knew I was up to no good but he was content to tolerate my presence in his home for the friendship we had enjoyed in the past - and for the silver penny that I had promised him when my business was over.
    On the morning of the second day, William came to Albert’s house and told me that Sir Ralph Murdac was looking at rings in the street of the goldsmiths in the northern part of the town.
    ‘But he is not alone, sir,’ said William, looking worried. ‘He has two men-at-arms with him.’
    ‘I’m not concerned about that,’ I said, and I wasn’t. ‘Is he wearing the ruby?’
    ‘Yes, sir, on the gold chain, as always.’
    I grinned: ‘Then let us go to him!’
    William and I pushed through the thick market crowds none too gently and soon found ourselves at the southern end of Goldsmith’s Street. As we wanted to avoid being recognised by Murdac or his men, William had smeared his face with mud and wore a hood pulled far forward over his brow. I was dressed like an off-duty soldier, in a distinctive blue cloak, hauberk, and sword, with a bloody bandage covering one eye and a good deal of my cheek. I had also pasted some short clippings of Albert’s black hair on my upper lip and chin and covered up my blond locks with a floppy-brimmed hat. To be honest, I felt slightly ridiculous, but Albert assured me that no one would recognise me; the black artificial stubble, though it was crudely stuck on, made me look older, and a much rougher customer; they might comprehend later that I had been a person in disguise but, as everyone in the castle believed that the gifted trouvère Alan Dale had left Nottingham two days before with his serf-born tail between his legs, I would not be immediately suspected as the thief.
    Our plan was very simple, as the best plans always are. And it was a manoeuvre I had made several times before, though not for a couple of years or more. It depended on surprise, timing, and the natural human reaction to a hard, winding blow to the stomach.
    Sir Ralph Murdac was standing beside a shop counter that opened on to the street; inside the shop, I could just see two young goldsmiths hard at work, tapping away at delicate work with their tiny hammers. I felt the usual thrill of pleasure in my gut at the thought of imminent larceny. On the street, standing next to Murdac, was the master goldsmith, who was showing him a fine gold brooch. He had clearly made the effort to come out of his shop to wait upon to such a distinguished customer. Two men-at-arms, in Murdac’s personal colours of black and red, were standing about ten yards away, leaning against a wall and looking bored.
    I walked towards the shop where Murdac was haggling with the goldsmith and