Free Robin Hood by David B. Coe

the distance.
Seeing him, the captain raised a hand in greeting. “Make ready, Sir Robert. We will dock in twenty minutes.”
“Gravesend?” Robin asked weakly, hoping that he was mistaking some other port for the royal city. As if he could mistake the White Tower for anything else in England.
The captain frowned at Robin, as if he thought him simple, or still drunk. “No, M'Lord, the Palace Dock. The Tower of London.”
Robin turned quickly and lurched back to the hatch. He practically fell down the ladder and scurried back to the quarters where the others still slept.
“Wake up!” Robin shouted at them.
Little John stirred but didn't open his eyes. “Right!” he said sleepily. “I think I'll breakfast on twelve oysters and a quart of ale.”
Robin shook Will and Allan.
“Where are we?” Allan asked, rubbing his eyes.
Robin shook Will again. “London!”
Will's eyes flew open. “Holy Christ!” Robin and the others washed and tried make themselves look the part. As they did, though, Robin wondered how they had ever managed to fool the captain and the king's man, and how they could possibly hope to deceive Lady Eleanor of Aquataine, Richard's mother. They didn't look like knights; they looked like ruffians, road thieves.
“Be ready to ride as soon as it's done,” Robin said, crossing to his pack.
“What if Loxley was known to the king's mother, or brother, or any of them?” Will asked.
Robin glanced up at him. “Then we'll be riding for our lives.”

CHAPTER

NINE
     
O ver the last ten years, Robin had faced the Saracens and the French in battle. He had endured hardships most men could hardly imagine, and had found courage within his heart he hadn't known he possessed. But he could not recall ever being as nervous about anything as he was about telling Eleanor of Aquitaine that her son was dead.
     
It wasn't that he feared for his life, though Will, Allan, and Little John seemed fairly certain that they would all end their day as prisoners in the White Tower. Rather, he was awed by the mere fact that he was about to meet the great lady. Eleanor had been Queen Consort of England for as long as Robin had been alive. Longer, actually. She was the most famous, powerful, notorious woman in all the world. She was also said to be the most beautiful, even now, well into her seventies.
And so it was that he stood at the prow of the ship, staring toward the dock, watching as people gathered to greet the vessel. All around him, the ship's crew rushed to and fro, preparing to dock. Will and Allan stood with their feet planted, their faces pale, their hands on the hilts of their swords. The ship bumped into the dock and two men jumped onto the quay to tie her in.
Robin had thought that he would have trouble spotting the queen consort; he should have known better. As bells pealed from the towers of the palace, the royal entourage emerged from the palace gate. The crowd parted. An older woman led the royal procession down toward the dock. She was tall, regal. The sun lit her handsome face. Surely this had to be Eleanor. She was accompanied by a knight, also tall, with a mane of red and silver hair. Behind them came a younger pair, the man with dark curls and a trim beard, and on his arm a young woman of surpassing beauty. Was this Prince John then?
No sooner had Robin asked himself the question than the thought came to him unbidden and as unforgiving as stone. No, not prince. This was the new king.
G ODFREY AND B ELVEDERE steered their mounts through the filthy lanes of London toward the walls of the great White Tower. They had crossed the channel in the dark of night and had ridden hard to the city. Godfrey's face still ached where the arrow had hit him, but he would be damned if he was going to let a simple wound disrupt his plans.
     
As they neared the tower, church bells began to toll throughout the city. Belvedere shot Godfrey a puzzledlook. Godfrey shrugged. The two men rode into the stable yard and dismounted,