BooksBarbecue
Back Nottingham
Chapters (76)
  1. Title Page
  2. Copyright Notice
  3. Dedication
  4. PROLOGUE
  5. PART I
  6. ONE
  7. TWO
  8. THREE
  9. FOUR
  10. FIVE
  11. SIX
  12. SEVEN
  13. EIGHT
  14. NINE
  15. PART II
  16. TEN
  17. ELEVEN
  18. TWELVE
  19. THIRTEEN
  20. FOURTEEN
  21. FIFTEEN
  22. SIXTEEN
  23. SEVENTEEN
  24. EIGHTEEN
  25. NINETEEN
  26. PART III
  27. TWENTY
  28. TWENTY-ONE
  29. TWENTY-TWO
  30. TWENTY-THREE
  31. TWENTY-FOUR
  32. TWENTY-FIVE
  33. TWENTY-SIX
  34. INTERLUDE
  35. PART IV
  36. TWENTY-SEVEN
  37. TWENTY-EIGHT
  38. TWENTY-NINE
  39. THIRTY
  40. THIRTY-ONE
  41. THIRTY-TWO
  42. THIRTY-THREE
  43. THIRTY-FOUR
  44. INTERLUDE
  45. PART V
  46. THIRTY-FIVE
  47. THIRTY-SIX
  48. THIRTY-SEVEN
  49. THIRTY-EIGHT
  50. PART VI
  51. THIRTY-NINE
  52. FORTY
  53. FORTY-ONE
  54. FORTY-TWO
  55. FORTY-THREE
  56. FORTY-FOUR
  57. FORTY-FIVE
  58. INTERLUDE
  59. PART VII
  60. FORTY-SIX
  61. FORTY-SEVEN
  62. FORTY-EIGHT
  63. FORTY-NINE
  64. FIFTY
  65. FIFTY-ONE
  66. FIFTY-TWO
  67. PART VIII
  68. FIFTY-THREE
  69. FIFTY-FOUR
  70. FIFTY-FIVE
  71. FIFTY-SIX
  72. EPILOGUE
  73. AUTHOR’S NOTE
  74. ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
  75. ABOUT THE AUTHOR
  76. Newsletter Sign-up

“Sir Robert FitzOdo,” the baron introduced the guard, not because he was important but because he was a rather expensive piece of jewelry. A knight in his private retainer. “Why should Richard get all the knights? You don’t train a hound and then lend it to someone else.”

Actually many people do, John thought, but didn’t say so. FitzOdo answered by thrusting his fist again to chant the baron’s name.

John pretended to be impressed. “Red Roger, indeed. I’ve heard quite a bit about that moniker of yours,” thanks to Gay Wally, “and if the stories are true, then you are a man who isn’t afraid to get bloody.”

Red Roger pounded his fist a few times on the table to prove indisputably that he was capable both of making fists and pounding things with them.

“We know how to deal with forest thieves here in Tickhill,” he boasted. “The problem with these sheriffs is they don’t stick around long enough to learn anything. Every ten years or so, some group of thieves crawls into the forest and shits on everyone. But Sheriff de Lacy wouldn’t know that, because five years ago it was Murdac who hunted them down. Ten years before that it was FitzRanulph. They never know what the fuck to do with themselves. But the thieves don’t come to Tickhill anymore, and do you know why?”

FitzOdo shouted out “Red Roger!” again, and John had to hide his face as he considered that Red Roger could be a euphemism for a man’s cock. The knight barked it a few more times, pumping his hand each time, and John could have died happy.

“This is why,” the baron continued, holding his fist out, tapping a ring on his middle finger. It had a thick talon sprouting forward. “I bled the last man who decided he was a prince of thieves. It’s only a little prick, but it does the job.”

John almost snorted. Now he’s making it too easy.

“I tied him up against a wall in town, and give him a little tap. Every tap opens him up, and he bleeds. Not deep enough to kill. Shallow, see, but I give him a little tap all over his body. When they heal, I tap them again. And he bleeds out. Slow and terrible. For everyone to see. That’s what you’ll get when I’m Sheriff of Nottingham. None of this fucking around. I’ll bleed this Robin Hood like I bled the last one. Red Roger!”

The name was repeated around the room again, one too many times by the awkward harp-boy, who then hid his face.

“Those cages outside of town, those were thieves then?” John asked. There had been two rotten bodies in iron cages hanging by the road to the town, each of which had another head impaled on a spike at the top.