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Matthew Miller was a frequent visitor to the village of Wickham. Sometimes even too frequent. He went there for various reasons, and a fair part of them was the desire to drink ale with the local headman, Edward, an old and very close friend.
The latter was famous throughout the area not only for his exceptional cunning, but also for his ability to brew the best ebulum in the county. He even had permission to sell this drink at fairs all the way to Nottingham. He also paid taxes with the same ale. He obtained raw materials for such volumes of production not only from the vast plantings around the village, but also from his friend Matthew - there were heaps of this stuff around the mill. And now an old friend has brought with him two hefty boxes of black elderberry berries and another whole box. The headman's wife, Alice, began sorting out the gift, while Edward himself invited his friend under the canopy to sip on a mug from old stocks, brewed last fall and aged all winter. For the midsummer festival, not everything was drunk - the headman wisely hid a couple of barrels for his own use and just in case. Here's a treat for a friend.
But the basis of the strong friendship of these two from their youth was not only a love of drinking, but also some kind of family connection: Matthew the Miller was married to one of Edward’s countless cousins. But they were especially brought together by another circumstance, which stemmed from the unfortunate fact: the village of Wickham belonged to the Rufford monastery, in which His Grace Abbot Hugo de Renault, also the younger brother of the Sheriff of Nottingham, reigned supreme. And Matthew’s family had been renting a piece of land from the monastery for three generations, on which they grazed sheep, and the mill was half owned by the abbey. To top it all off, both the miller and the headman were purebred Saxons to the core and fiercely hated their master the abbot, who was a Norman. And both, so to speak, were members of the same “hunting club”, that is, they poached in the monastic property, they had been doing this for many years, and besides them, two dozen more local residents had a share in the business.
Edward brought his famous drink and a simple snack in the form of cheese and onions with celery. Placing the mugs on the table, he sighed heavily:
—And why do we have to suffer such a misfortune? How did we anger Herne?
Matthew instantly halved his mug and muttered darkly:
—He has nothing to do with it.
— After all, how well we lived!— Edward lamented. — Quiet... calm... peaceful...
—This was before these damned Normans. They invaded our ancestral lands and trampled on our rights..
—I’m not talking about it at all! — the headman muttered in response, quickly realizing that now they would start whining about the old days, when the grass was greener and the women were more accommodating.
And he urgently continued about his own:
—There has never been peace and tranquility here. But it was still good until this scum, this evil spirit, this ferret, this fiend of hell and the devil in the flesh, appeared! And where did it fall on our heads?!
— So the abbot, so that the devils would spoil his stew, brought him with him from some voyage. It seems like last Michaelmas... Although no — on St. Matthew Day! Or before?
—It doesn’t matter! But it seems to me that because of this Gisburne we will have so many problems... enough for the rest of our lives! Just now he almost crushed me with his hellish horse... and all because I just addressed him, in his opinion, inappropriately... “I am for you, Saxon muzzle, my Lord Gisburne!” Oh, he turned this beast of its around so much that it almost knocked my teeth out with its head...
—Don’t be annoying. It’s easy to help the cause—you just need to take it seriously and together. Let's keep watch, fortunately he drags around like a mad dog and is not always accompanied...
—Are you saying that...
— Let's set a trap for this ferret and throw the corpse into the swamp.
—Sometimes you say such nonsense as if you were born yesterday. There will be proceedings!
—Oh, you scared me! And did they find out much after the fire?
—But in his case, you can’t dismiss it so easily.
—What’s wrong with depicting a hunting accident? We've already done this. That is, we started, and our pigs finished.
—This is when we blamed everything on wild boars, and you forgot to remove the ropes? Well I noticed.
— And how many times will you remind me of this?
— As long as it takes for you to understand: losing caution will cost us dearly.
—Why are you so upset? Previously, this question was of little interest to you.
—Yes, my son has grown up and at every opportunity he tries to run away into the forest...
— Remind me how old he is?
—Ten. My wife swears like hell after every such incident... Yes, I also saw yours in the forest more than once, but all the foresters in the area know him and... well, you understand why they turn a blind eye to him.
—What to take from a fool? Do you mean that? Yes, he has the mind and soul of a three-year-old child, but he is smart.
— Don't be offended, Mat, but this is his... condition in a sense and his protection. But you would still have hidden the bows better, otherwise...
— There is someone to follow Much, and if he just tries not to do it, I’ll skin him himself. And you tell your wife Alice less about our affairs. And don't make such face!
— Yes, I’m silent... But something needs to be done with Gisburne, and urgently, otherwise he will do it first. You just can’t defeat him that easily...
— It’s a no brainer that it won’t work out in a rush. Only here you need to develop a strategy. And choose the right tactics. And you may need to wait a long time for the right opportunity, although... — the miller scratched his beard thoughtfully, and then said: — But you can create this opportunity yourself, so to speak, with live bait...
—Explain?
—Pour some more ale and bring something more substantial for a snack. This matter needs to be thoroughly thought through... The main thing here is that we should not be suspected!
— That's it! And they will suspect us very quickly. In addition, we must not forget that someone can tell someone who doesn’t need what they don’t need
Matthew The Miller scratched his beard and grinned
— I have one idea on how to do all this and get rid of the proceedings...
—Then you will be the smartest person in our shire!
—But I will need helpers... and as you understand, I don’t want to involve either my family or my employees in this.
— But Robin is not a fool and knows how to remain silent?
— He can, but I already got into trouble with him once, taking into the house this bastard from the crazy Aelfric and his Irish witch....
— Oh, Mat, I told you then to send him to hell. And there was an opportunity!
—Don’t you know your cousin? She clung to him... “Oh, poor orphan!” And Much was born that year, so she wasn’t herself, but then she went completely crazy. Looking at this state of affairs, I spat and left the wolf cub Loxley. I had to.
—Yeah... I understand, it’s better not to argue with women even in calmer conditions for them, and even more so in pregnancy or with infants, and even more so... But it’s unlikely that the de Reno brothers forgot that the Guardian of the Arrow still has a son.< /p>
— Whether they forgot or not, they don’t seem to remember yet. So there is no need to lead them to this idea. And therefore Robin, the son of Matthew the Miller, should not come into their sight. And on top of everything else, he made it a habit to call himself Robin...of Loxley!
—What? For...what's for?
—And that’s all my wife: she tells him fairy tales about his dead father, and he listens to her with his mouth open and imagines God knows what. He especially likes to add that “Nothing is forgotten!” I didn't beat him enough! One more time he’ll babble about Loxley and it’s his “Nothing is ever forgotten,” and I punch him in the face..
— You be careful with him, otherwise next year he will be coming of age and maybe will answer that it will be worse for you...
— Just let him try, I’ll quickly break off his horns.
— If I were you, I wouldn’t be so sure. He... gives a deceptive impression.
—It doesn’t matter, in our business he not only shouldn’t stand next to us, but he shouldn’t have any idea about anything at all. Do you understand?
—Yes. Will we be able to pull this off with just the two of us?
— No, of course. Helpers are still needed. But they don't need to know what's going on. Where's the ale?
— Everything will be fine now.
Drinking elderflower ale, two old friends discussed how best to solve the problem that had arisen on their way, and none of them, even in their worst nightmares, could have dreamed of how it would end.