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Heinrich von Erlichshausen looked gloomily at the Sheriff of Nottingham and his deputy. And then he slightly turned his head towards his commander and very close friend Reynald de Villaret and quietly said in Swabian:
— Stop making fun of the stupid boy, it's not funny anymore after all. In addition, we have a lot to do.
Reinald understood him perfectly, but he prefer to answer in the language of a true native of Languedoc, which Ehrlichshausen himself has already studied for the entire time of their acquaintance:
— And here, my dear Heinrich, you are wrong three times, because ...
Villaret did not have time to finish the phrase, as the sheriff demanded ... no, well, what impudence! This morel still dares to demand something! But one way or another, Robert de Rainault wished that they switch to English. Apparently, he understood only this, but his deputy, it seems, knew Occitan ... Not very well, but nonetheless. Interesting to know where from?
However, despite the demand of the representative of the local authorities, both Templars did not even think of complying with it, continuing their conversation further, but even quieter:
— Well, where am I wrong?
—Firstly, I don’t make fun of the boy, but I’m trying to figure out how best to communicate with him. We'll have to deal with this dressed—up scarecrow - the local sheriff, and most likely through this young man..
— Oh, you old fox! Got an eye on this blond misunderstanding?
Not that he was surprised, because Villaret was from Occitania, and this left its mark on his attitude to some things and explained his liberties in manners.
—Consider this my little whim. Or did you start to get jealous?
Heinrich only snorted contemptuously - he was already accustomed to such hobbies of his long-time friend and lover. Reynald meanwhile continued:
— And secondly, you are wrong about him, and thirdly, his patron is already nervous and this gives me a separate and special pleasure ...
—Something tells me it won't be boring here...
And Heinrich thought that perhaps this time his friend would not win as quickly as he used to ...
— A…uh…m…
The guy stared dumbfounded at them, stripped to their underwear by robbers and sitting on one horse - a separate mockery of their leader, who called himself "King of Sherwood".
But there was no triumph, no mockery, no gloating in the look of the deputy sheriff. Even no shadow of it all. For some time, he frowned, looking either at them, or in front of him. And then, as if he woke up and, looking away, said with a slight hesitation:
— Loxley, right?
— How did you guess? — Villars grinned, but with an air as if nothing had happened and the subject of the conversation was just the disgusting weather.
— Well ... this bastard loves to have fun like that, - the young man grunted in response, and then suddenly added hastily: - But actually, he’s just crazy!
Like… justifying a robber?
— Yes, we already understood.
Reynald squinted at Guy of Gisburne, who tried to ignore it, but it was difficult, Villaret's gaze was too strange for him. However, Reynald knew how to embarrass even the not so young and naive. And Heinrich himself knew very well this manner of his friend to look at the men and women who interested him, and Villaret continued the "casual" conversation:
— And how long has he been doing this?
— Not so much — since spring.
— And nothing can be done?
— Well, you can see for yourself… — the guy almost threw up his hands, obviously, wondering how to get out of this situation, which was very unpleasant for him. Most likely, the arrogant robber is his headache, and the sheriff demands a result that the boy does not have and there is nowhere to take it from. Surely the guy was now thinking about how to change the subject, and ... he found it!
— But I think I know where this scoundrel will carry the stolen goods! And where might the rest of your horses be.
— So we'll set up an ambush there. Let's get our belongings back and catch him himself.
— Let's go! — exclaimed this Gisburne with quite boyish enthusiasm, and immediately added hurriedly: “But I can't guarantee success. I mean Loxley.
And Heinrich mentally praised himself for his insight, and Villaret answered the guy with a charming smile:
— Well, if we can't eat, at least we'll bite!
A couple of hours later, the deputy sheriff brought swords, a lot of chain mail, a pair of axes and shoes for the whole company. They were especially happy with boots and swords, but they refused the chain mail.
As this Guy warned, they were not lucky with the capture of Robin Hood personally, because he did not appear himself, but only four of his people. Including that juvenile moron - the former hostage. And the robbers very quickly realized how the effect of surprise could work in both directions, when half-naked Templars with swords and axes jumped out of an ambush. And with them, in addition, several soldiers of the local garrison with a deputy sheriff at the head.
Although no prisoners could be taken, but, as Gisburne put it, the people of this very "King of Sherwood" did not get off as cheaply as they were used to, and this warmed the heart a little ...
Watching the conversation between Villaret and this young man, Heinrich, according to an old habit, thought about what he saw. Who would have thought, this almost boy, it turns out, fought! But Heinrich understood this only when he saw him in battle. And as in the blink of an eye, some clumsiness and slowness disappear. And noted his rather curious fighting style. And when Heinrich heard that this young man was near Montauban, he understood how he knew Occitan speech. And it was immediately evident how this Gisburne yearned for the company of warriors and his equals. How he responded to the slightest attention ... In this hole, he most likely could only count on the company of his boss, and this hardly suited him. The sheriff clearly holds him almost like a dog, but the young man does not fit this role at all. And if his boss does not change his attitude towards him, he is unlikely to remain with that inflated goose for a long time. This naive young northerner was absolutely charming in his spontaneity and openness, so characteristic of youth. Especially when he smiled. But naivete will go away, but his inner heat and energy will remain. Yes, he is just as much a stranger here as all of them, only for some reason he decided to make this rather miserable land on the outskirts of civilization his home. And why, by the way? There is no other? … And Heinrich seems to have begun to understand Villaret ... This fox had a nose for interesting personalities, and the Occitan wanted to get most of them into his bed. And the guy really is one of extraordinary people - upon careful observation of him, one could notice how something was slipping in him ... only Heinrich von Erlichshausen could not determine what exactly, how to get rid of the feeling - Reynald would not achieve what he wanted. That will not achieve and that's it! Despite all his exceptional charm and the disposition of this Gisburne to him. And the Templar used to trust his feelings, and warned his friend about the suspicions that arose, but he was stubborn and presumptuous.
— I am very grateful to you, Sir Guy of Gisburne...
— I did everything I could, Messire Reynald de Villaret
— For you, just Reynald ... you can say Renard. And you.
— Ahem... well, then I'm just Guy.
— Agreed. And you are a very strange person. If I didn't know for sure that you were born in the north, I would bet my head that you are my compatriot...
— Is it with such a muzzle?
— It's not about appearance. They will not be born anywhere else than in Languedoc... I have not seen so much inner heat in any of the Normans I know, only in my compatriots. Northerners, even Aquitanians... They can't do that, I thought. Until I met you... Fire in a vessel of ice!
— You flatter me.
— Not at all! You remind me of the wine from Vakluz, the birthplace of my venerable mother. Cherry trees grow there among the vineyards, and because of this, the grapes harvested there are very special. And the wine from them acquires an amazing and incomparable taste ...
This guy suddenly undertook to escort them to the southern border of the shire. As it turned out later, he wanted to stop by one estate just on the way. It was supposed to be his home at the end of the month. Gisburne said this with the look as if he was not buying a house, but would lead his beloved girl to the altar — he was glowing from the inside.
They stood on a hilltop overlooking the valley, and after admiring the view, they had to admit that there are beautiful places in Nottinghamshire, and not just in Languedoc and Provence. Rather, Reynald admitted this, and Heinrich tactfully kept silent, condescendingly forgiving both Gisburne and Villaret their opinion on the beautiful. After all, they did not see true beauty, because they had never been to his native Swabia - also the only place on earth where they really know how to cook and brew beer. Even in his early youth, he was sure of this, and with age and wandering around the world, he had no doubts about this at all. But Villaret distracted him from such blissful thoughts, quietly poking his elbow in the side. He looked expressively at Heinrich, and he, grinning and mentally wishing his friend good luck, went to the horses left in the copse.
— And where are you going now? Didn't you go to Lincoln?
— It is unlikely that they will welcome us there with open arms.. No, personally, I'm going to Carcassonne. Besides, I haven't been home for a long time...
— And where is it? Your house...
—South Of Toulouse. The location of Villaret is near there… Have you ever been to the Languedoc?
— I haven't been further than Montauban...
— So come with me — you will visit. You'll like it there. And we are much more tolerant of outsiders and visitors than in other places.
— Are you serious?
— More than.
— Under other circumstances, I would... I can't — the service. And I also want to settle here.
— So you're a vassal of this morel sheriff?
— No, I am a vassal of the Earl of Gloucester. Deputy Sheriff I'm for the money.
— So, no?
— No.
— It's a pity ... so you're going to keep running through the woods after robbers?
—The robbers violate the royal law, and I am a knight in the service of his governor. Which means it's my duty. Besides, King Philip Augustus is my king's enemy...
— Don't you know that we in the Languedoc swear allegiance to Aragon, not France?
— I know ... yes, you have there in general ... a lot is not the same as in other places, as I have heard... For example, there is no ancestral entail, although, on the one hand, this is not so bad.
— We generally look at a lot of things differently.
— Are you of the Cathars?
— Does it matter to you?
Guy was silent, not knowing what to say. Yes, he heard that the Catholic Church in Occitania is not honored, but when compared with the local revelry of paganism ... Although they are considered heretics, they are still Christians ...
And then something happened that he did not expect at all: de Villaret suddenly leaned forward sharply, and the hard, weathered lips of the Templar dug into his lips. And he himself turned out to be overturned on his back and pressed to the ground by a very strong and sinewy body. At the first instant, Guy was petrified with surprise and horror. But in the second ... He did not know how to kiss like Reynald did! However, Villaret's abilities were clearly not limited to this, and the templar decided to demonstrate all his skills ... only such a turn of affairs did not suit Guy. Even if in the place of the Templar was a girl. But he didn’t look like a woman at all, and therefore the slap in the face was the strongest that had ever been used. However, it didn't work
— Finally, I managed to do what I dreamed of from the first moment of our meeting!
— Are you out of your mind? I understand that in your Templar Order ... a lot is practiced, but I'm not your brother! And in general!
— So you have never?.. Then take my word for it - there is nothing sweeter than this. If you knew how you... inspire, but to take such perfection by force is a crime! Just agree - and you won't regret it.
— I don't advise... If you value life!
Guy drew his sword.
—It's worth it!
— Villaret, come to your senses!
— I won't even think about it! Believe me, I will be able to appreciate such a treasure as you!
— Thank you for the honor, but I'll get by! And stay away!
— Very sorry!
— I personally don't! Absolutely!
Judging by the sour expression on Reynald's face, nothing happened, and Heinrich suddenly thought that it was for the best, and even felt some relief. And at the expense of Villaret himself, he did not worry a bit - he would be comforted quickly, not for the first time. Yes, already tonight, in the company of an old lover, he will forget about his failure.
That guy Gisburne caused the Templar not so much to feel jealousy - Heinrich was not naturally inclined to this, but rather apprehension. As a source of very likely and big problems. And not so much himself, but ... what is happening around him!
Heinrich did not understand where this feeling came from, but being a warrior, he learned to take everything into account, including very ephemeral and seemingly insignificant things. He wasn't sure it was the Sheriff of Nottingham who was going to molest them, even though this was the man who was obviously looking to get the guy under him. In all senses. Heinrich would have even wished this de Rainault good luck, but it was completely pointless - luck is needed where there is even the slightest chance, and in the case of this bug-eyed morel, there were none at all. No, the threat was somewhere else. Not direct and not explicit, but no less dangerous for that.
Suddenly, a chill ran down his back, as it had done many times before in Palestine, when he felt the presence of the enemy on his skin. And how it suddenly happened when he fought with this Robin Hood. It seemed to him then that ... Not inclined to believe in any mystical nonsense, Heinrich doubted for a moment that that Robin Hood was just a man. And now the same feeling, as it wafted ... from another world. Not human.
Heinrich von Erlichshausen, who rode last, reined in his horse and looked around. No, nobody. It seemed. This forest is just a forest. And that robber is just a robber. And the Templar sent his horse forward.
He did not see how behind him the air over the path suddenly thickened and went in waves, and a light wind swirled in a whirlwind, raising dust and old leaves from the forest floor ...
"Well, shoo from here ... there is enough here even without you ... "
***
Guy rode to Nottingham cursing like hell. And aloud. He would never have thought that he would have to defend his ... not exactly honor - where would this come from in that place? Then, maybe, in some sense, virginity? Although in this case the question is still the same. Rather, it was ...defending inviolability, that's it! And with weapons in hand.
On the other side, it turned out to be even funny. Thought so and burst out laughing, even doubled over. And then, catching his breath from the hiccups, he decided to put the whole story with the Templars out of his head and remember the most important and essential thing, because in a week the feast of St. Peter was coming. And his personal too - from a stranger without his own corner, he became not just the owner of the estate, he finally found his own and real home!
And in order to look at it again, he turned off the road and rushed straight across the meadow, which pretty much frightened the local birds. They took off almost from under Fury's hooves with a protesting chirp, the horse snored indignantly, but the rider did not pay attention to this - he was happy!