A conclusion to "Robin's Revenge."
With Robin and Marian on one horse, and Will and Roger each on their own mounts, the group made their way north. The late afternoon autumn light was making longer shadows of the trees along the road, and when they got to a major crossroad, Will pointed to a pole affixed above the door of a fairly rundown roadside alehouse.
"They've a fresh batch made," said Will, making no attempt to hide the thirst the sign aroused. "Robin, could we not stop for a pint? We should be well clear of danger by now." His dark eyes were impulsive, eager.
Robin hesitated. He would have preferred pressing on as nightfall was but an hour or so away, and their safety would be best assured when deeper into the forest's protective garland of trees, but he also could well appreciate his men's need for a break and some liquid enjoyment.
He knew the alehouse well enough, and decided with some reservations that a short stop would do no harm.
He spoke briefly with Will, insisting on a short stay, yet the smiles on the men's faces was sign enough that this was the right decision. Roger, with his big shoulders, was first to dismount, then the tall slender dark-haired Will.
They tied their steeds to the fence alongside the alehouse and made their way into the dark, low ceilinged building.
"Robin!" smiled the proprietor. "Welcome!"
"Thomas, good to see you," responded Robin. "Looks like a fresh batch?" he asked, pointing outside the front door towards the ale pole.
"Yes, and a good one it is. You and your men will like it well enough. All around? And the lady too?" he asked, gesturing at Marian, who despite her slender shape and disheveled clothing, carried herself with a natural and effortless dignity.
"Yes a pint for all. I'll pay straight away in case we need to leave in a hurry," he said, fishing a coin from his purse.
The publican smiled cautiously. He was a large fleshy man, whose jowls shook with every facial expression. "Fair enough. Anything we should know about?" he asked, eyebrows arching and attempting to sound casual.
"No, just back from some business in town," said Robin, making it clear that no more discussion was welcome.
Thomas nodded warily and had one of his alehouse maidens, a handsome enough girl with dark hair and sharp darting eyes, attend to the ale cask. A good deal of her breasts pressed up against her bodice, which struggled to restrain its cargo.
The wooden tankards were filled with foaming ale, and the men eagerly took a deep first swallow.
"Humpf!" went Will. "Something different about this batch? A bit bitter, methinks. Publican, what sort of ale might be this brew?"
"Ah yes, a bit different it is, you're a sharp one. It's got hops in it," said Thomas. "Merchant from Kent was up the other week, says they use them all the time in their ale down there. Some special herb, he says. This is our first try."
Thomas glanced at the barrel behind the counter. "A bit startling to the tongue at first, but you'll like it by the third swallow. Fellow said I'll never go back to the old style once I've done a batch with hops, he says. Keeps longer too, they say. Enjoy!"
Sure enough, the brew was different but cool and fine, most welcome after their afternoon of exertions. The men were chatting with the barmaid at a table at the end of the long first room, while Robin and Marian stood near the doorway, keeping an eye out on the road to the south.
"How did you manage to kidnap Mary?" asked Marian softly, her wide eyes looking up into Robin's angular face. She had dozens of questions for her Robin and they scarcely had had a chance to review the day's tangled events.
"As soon as I knew they had gotten you, I sent the men off to find her. I had a good sense she would be at market, and sure enough we were able to get her separated from the sheriff's escorts. You can thank Robert for that when you see him next, he did some damage to a couple of the sheriff's men."
Robin laughed softly but returned to his story. "I had told them to bring her to the meadow in the chance that all would go well with you, and by God we were fortunate enough. If we hadn't managed to track you and get you to safety, I hoped that we would have found a way to trade you both back, or threaten her enough to make the sheriff amendable."
"What would you have done if the sheriff had had his way?" she asked, leaving out the "with me" part, peering up into his eyes. Her long handsome face with its sharp chin betrayed some concern.
"I am not sure," frowned Robin, "but it would not have been pleasant. But we did not have to go that route after all."
Robin looked down and noticed for the first time how wide the rend was in Marian's bodice. Her left breast had pushed through, pressing her dress' fabric past the slice in the bodice. Her pointed nipple was outlined prominently against the thin fabric, her breast unnaturally squeezed by the bodice's hole.
Marian saw his glance and quickly stuffed her breast back into her bodice. Robin then realised why his men had been giving her extra looks on their escape from the manor house.
"Wont' stay put," she muttered.
"I owe you a new bodice," he smiled ruefully. "That was a nice one too."
"No matter," said Marian, "It is just clothing."
Robin turned for a look at the back of the alehouse. Will and Roger were deep in conversation with the alehouse maiden, who was sitting on a bench between them.
Robin was sure he saw her hand at the top of Roger's thigh, fingers moving rather wantonly, and she was laughing rather overmuch at something he said. Between long thirsty draughts of his ale, Will appeared to be eying the valley between her breasts with some interest.
Robin shook his head and turned back to Marian.
The place had perhaps a half dozen other men in it, enjoying their ale before heading home after a day of work in the fields. Another alehouse wench was assisting Thomas, and Robin wondered how much his band would be remembered as being here if the sheriff's men came by later.
"Let me relieve myself before we head back," said Marian, "it's been a long day."
She left Robin by the doorway to find her way to the privy out back.
Robin stood by the doorway, sipping his brew, when he felt a presence behind him and slightly to his right.
"Dear Robin," purred a fair voice. "What brings you this way?"
It was Ruth, who Robin recognised as the other girl who worked for the publican, rumored to be his niece. Robin hadn't noticed her when they arrived.
She was a short, round girl, with wild handsome dark hair, and Robin had spoken to her only a few times in the past. Her breasts were pushing rather outside the confines of her over-tight bodice, part of one of the dark circles that apparently surrounded each nipple showing atop one side.
"We were on our way north and saw your ale pole. My men were powerful thirsty and we stopped," he said simply.
She was following his gaze out the door. He always had had a hard time reading her. She was apt to speak quite directly, sometimes far too much so.
She had dark eyes, with thick brows that often were furrowed. But when she smiled her chin seemed to dance with pleasure. He looked off in the distance, with some concern over the time.
She stirred next to him. He felt her hand pressing up against his haunches through his hose. She was rubbing with purpose. He shifted a bit to the side, but her hand followed his arse.
"Why don't you spend the night here?" Ruth asked. "We have enough rooms for all of you, and Thomas thinks enough of you to make you a fair price."
"Thank you, but we cannot tarry." Robin tried to stay direct and short.
Robin then started, as Ruth's hand had now reached around under his rump and was fondling his balls. If he moved away suddenly it would bring the attention of the publican. His stalk was tingling and hardening far faster than he wished.
"Ruth," he stammered, "not the best time for this sort of thing...."
"Oh, do stay," murmured Ruth into his ear. "I have been so lonely lately. It has been ages since I last had a poke, at least a week. And I am sure your quiver is full." She looked up into his eyes, but Robin averted his gaze. Her fingers indeed were caressing his balls to lovely effect.
Robin's mouth fell quite open and his thoughts flitted around various disengagement gambits.
Robin detached himself carefully, and looked around wildly. "Why don't you check with my Will?" he suggested, pointing over to his lad at the far corner of the room, still in earnest talk with Roger and the other bar maid.
"He's a good man, but none of us can stay," he insisted.
Just then Marian reemerged. Ruth noted her presence, and sidled her way over to Will at the far end of the alehouse and inserted herself into the conversation.
The other girl gave her a distasteful look and got up to help Thomas at the front of the alehouse. Robin had noticed that always at least one of them was at work near Thomas, leaving the other free to talk or otherwise consort with the alehouse patrons.
Marian had given Robin a piercing look, then followed the alehouse traverse of Ruth with a lingering gaze. Ruth's hips had swayed a bit more than necessary on her path to the two men.
Robin returned to the doorway, Marian joining him. Her eyes drifted to his groin, and Robin reddened, knowing well that his bulge would not be well accounted for.
