HOOD

Followed by a band of misfits called Merry Men, the criminal wore Lincoln Green, and was the jolly sort, light on his feet. He lived in Sherwood Forest, conspiring to overthrow the cruel Prince John and planning to kill the Sheriff. Wanted by the Sheriff of Nottingham, and Prince John, he was called many things, most undesirable. The thief. The scoundrel. The trickster. But to be specific? Me. I’m the thief, I’m the scoundrel, and I’m the trickster. My name is Robin Hood. And we all know the story: “Robin Hood defeats the Sheriff of Nottingham, and Prince John, and lives out the rest of his life in Sherwood Forest. He charmed Maid Marian into marrying him, and lives happily ever after until he got sick and died.” Ha. Yes, I did defeat the Sheriff of Nottingham, and I did kill Prince John. But that was not how it was. The truth is, it started with a girl. And her name.... was Hood. Two covers were made for this story. They will be posted in the last chapter.

37Likes
30Comments
2217Views
AA

1. November 21, 1190

 

 


The year was 1190.

The date? November twenty-first.

Wars raged overseas as the Third Crusade - a campaign to claim the Holy Lands from Saladin - took place. During the reign of King Richard the Lionheart, powerful foes ruled Great Britain temporarily with an iron fist, acting as tyrants to all ranking below them in society and money. Tormenting the poor with taxes, they rained death upon those who dared rebel against them:

Prince John, the evil brother of King Richard ….. And the Sheriff of Nottingham, a follower of Prince John, who was determined to put him on the throne - for good.

The two men were cruel, and tortured criminals in ways that most people couldn’t imagine, often for small crimes. If you so much as looked the wrong way at a noble, your head would be chopped from your shoulders. If you committed adultery, you would be burned at stake if you were a woman, drawn and quartered as a man.

Street-wretches were convicted for stealing from the open markets, their hands chopped off to force the kids into submission. Women struggled to feed their families and often sold their bodies for unspeakable purposes to care for them. Men were thrown in jail if they showed any sign of rebellion. People who may have had a chance at surviving became one of the fallen that filled the streets to the brim.

Few fought against the injustice of it, and if they did? May God have mercy on their tortured souls. The very idea of rebelling took every bit of strength to overcome the fear of being killed, tortured, drawn and quartered. Even that was not the worst part of the abuse inflicted upon the rebels. No, things could get much worse. Families were slaughtered like livestock - even those who had nothing to do with a supposed crime.

One old man had his eyes gouged from his skull and was left to die.

Another was hung and then, with a few breaths left in him, he was thrown to the ground and drawn and quartered. And for what? Stealing bread.

The people received no mercy for crimes that they had to commit to survive. The crimes they were forced to commit to save their children, and themselves. In times like those, during the absence of King Richard, everyone was being killed or punished for some “wrong doing”.

By then, the people had accepted the fact that things were never going to get better.

But then, he came. He stood up, and began the retaliation, encouraged it. He fought with a bow, and shot like no other; he was wanted with a price on his head so large that even a mass murderer’s bounty could not be compared. The thief stole from the rich and gave to the poor.

Followed by a band of misfits called Merry Men, the criminal wore Lincoln Green, and was the jolly sort, light on his feet. He lived in Sherwood Forest, conspiring to overthrow the cruel Prince John and planning to kill the Sheriff. Wanted by the Sheriff of Nottingham, and Prince John, he was called many things, most undesirable.

The thief. The scoundrel. The trickster. But to be specific?

Me. I’m the thief, I’m the scoundrel, and I’m the trickster. My name is Robin Hood.

And we all know the story: Robin Hood defeats the Sheriff of Nottingham, and Prince John, and lives out the rest of his life in Sherwood Forest. He charmed Maid Marian into marrying him, and lives happily ever after, blah blah blah.” Ha. Yes, I did defeat the Sheriff of Nottingham, and I did kill Prince John.

But let me tell you, I was not always like this. I was not always wanted, and I most certainly didn’t turn out this way, as the Prince of Thieves,  on my own; in fact, there was a time when I myself was scared to stand up and fight, to stand up and get my rights back. There was a time when I was a coward, a feeble-minded, weak back-boned coward.

See, the only reason I am remembered as I am is because of a girl. A girl who was not afraid to defy the odds and rebel.

And her name…... was Hood.




 

    

 

 

 


 

Join MovellasFind out what all the buzz is about. Join now to start sharing your creativity and passion
Loading ...