Outlaw by Michael Morpurgo

enough again to do God’s work, which is so much needed in this benighted land of ours.”
    “May God bless you, good Robin Hood,” said the abbess. “I see that all we have heard about you is true.” And with that she hung her head and began to sob uncontrollably. “Our dear abbey has beenplundered. Sir Guy of Gisbourne deceived us, took all we had. It was our fault, but it was cruel, cruel. We needed money, so we mortgaged the abbey. We had to. The church roof was falling in. We had to save it. We had to try, didn’t we?”
    “Of course,” said Marion, taking her hand to comfort her.
    “Two bad harvests, and we could not pay Sir Guy back his money,” the abbess went on. “So he took it, took the abbey from us and put us out.”
    “I wonder sometimes,” said Robin fiercely, “I wonder which of them Satan loves more, the sheriff or Sir Guy of Gisbourne.”
    “You shall stay here with us,” Marion declared, “all of you. You can help teach the children to read and write.”
    “Can we really stay?” cried the abbess, falling on her knees. “Oh, thank you, sweet Jesus, for yourmercy. My sisters and I, we shall sing Mass for you. We can heal too, with the help of the sweet Lord Jesus. I know more of the herbs of this forest than anyone alive.”
    “Marion is our healer,” Little John spoke sharply. “And Friar Tuck says Mass for us. He’s away at the moment, on a pilgrimage to Canterbury; but he’ll be back.”
    “Then we shall sing the services for you until he returns,” said the abbess, smiling sweetly. “Meanwhile, my sisters and I will teach the children, and only if Marion wishes it will we help her with the healing of the sick.”
    “I need all the help I can get,” said Marion, wondering why Little John had a face like thunder.
    So the abbess and the nuns stayed amongst the Outlaws, ministering to the sick, teaching the children and singing Mass in the cave chapel eachday. And Will Scarlett and Alan Wicken worked all the daylight hours making them their new habits and new sandals. Amongst all the Outlaws only Little John did not welcome them. He confided his doubts to Robin. “They’re just too good to be true,” he said. “Not natural.” Robin brushed him aside.
    “Nonsense,” he said. “You worry too much. The abbess has cured my father’s aching leg when Marion couldn’t. And when they sing Mass, even the birds listen. When Tuck does it you can’t see a bird or beast for half a mile all around.”
    “I don’t like her. I don’t like any of them,” Little John insisted, but Robin paid him little attention.
    Some weeks later, it was Little John himself, on lookout duty on the edge of Sherwood, who spotted the approaching convoy. Word came back that it was southward bound, and a big one – at least thirtycarts and with only a light escort. Rich pickings, easy pickings. “We’ll need everyone,” said Robin.
    “We’ll look after the children for you, Marion,” said the abbess. “They’ll be fine with us.”
    Alan Wicken would stay behind, to finish a sandal, he said. And Robin’s father stayed too – he rarely left the encampment. Marion said she would stay with him as she so often did, but he wouldn’t hear of it. “You go with Robin,” he said. “I’ll be all right here with the sisters and Alan. Little Martin will look after me.” And she left him fashioning a longbow, lifting it to his nose as he whittled and smelling the yew, his grandson crawling in the leaves at his feet.
    Alan Wicken waited until everyone was gone, until the abbess gave him the signal he had been waiting for. It had all been planned, and planned perfectly too. He sauntered over to Robin’s father.“Some of the sisters want to go looking for herbs,” he said. “They’re taking the children. I’d best go with them, keep an eye on them. Shall I take young Martin with us? Let you whittle in peace?”
    “Why not? You take good care of him, mind.”
    “Oh, I will,” said Alan Wicken.