10 Robin Hood Finds the Curtal Friar

CHAPTER 10 Robin Hood Finds the Curtal Friar The next morning, Robin and the merry men sprang out of bed at first light. They had to find the Curtal Friar of Fountains Abbey quickly if they hoped to stop Ellen's wedding. Will Scarlet knew the way to the abbey, so he led the others. The path took them through woods they had never traveled. Just after noon, they reached a broad, fast-flowing

river. "In a bit, we will come to a shallow place in the river," Will said. "We can wade across there." Robin shook his head. "I think I should go the rest of the way alone. If I have any trouble, I will blow my bugle three times." About ten minutes after leaving his men, Robin suddenly stopped and listened for a moment. "That's strange. It seems I am hearing two voices, yet they sound almost the same. What is going on?" he wondered. Peering through the trees, Robin saw a fat friar sitting on the riverbank. He was a jolly- looking fellow with a thick neck and bright red cheeks. Between his legs sat a big meat pie. In one hand, he held a bottle. The other hand clutched a crust of pie. "Oh, good fellow," the friar said, "you are the best friend I could ever have." Then a different voice responded. "Why thank you,

brother. I do appreciate your kindness." The friar replied in the first voice, "Why thank you, brother. You must try this pie." Robin held in his laughter. When the friar finished his meal, he rubbed his hands together, then said, "Good friend, I have enjoyed this meal. I would like it so very much if you would sing a bit for me." The second voice said, "I would love to, but I won't sing alone. Will you join me?" The friar nodded and began to sing in a strong, deep voice. Robin chuckled quietly. He knew the tune, so he began to sing along. Startled, the friar struggled clumsily to his feet. He drew his broadsword from its scabbard and cried out, "Show yourself, and I'll carve you like a Sunday roast beef!" Robin emerged from his hiding place. "Oh, good brother, put your sword away. Haven't

we shared a song? Why should we fight? I'll tell you, good friend, the song has left me parched. Have you any drink to wash my throat?" The friar lowered his sword glumly. "You seem to be very comfortable barging in where you are not invited. But I am a Christian and cannot refuse drink to a thirsty man." He held out the bottle. Robin grabbed it, threw his head back, and drank until the bottle was empty. The friar snatched the bottle back and peered inside. He turned the bottle upside down and shook it, but nothing came out. Then he pursed his lips and glared. Ignoring the look, Robin asked, "Do you know of a certain one who goes by the name of Curtal Friar of Fountains Abbey?" "Yea, a bit," replied the friar. "Well then, good father or friar, or

whatever you are," said Robin, "I would like to know whether he will be found on this side of the river or the other." "I advise you to set foot on that side of the river and find out for yourself," snapped the friar. "Well, good friar, as you can see, my clothes are of fine quality," Robin explained. "I don't want to get them wet. You have broad, strong shoulders. Would you mind carrying me across?" The friar turned as red as an apple. "You little runt!" he shouted. "Do you dare ask that I carry you across?" Then the anger left his face, and his eyes twinkled once more. "But why should I not? Climb up on my back. I will carry you safely across the river." The friar bent down, and then suddenly straightened up again. "I think you will get your weapon wet, young master. Let me tuck

your sword under my arm to keep it dry." "No, good father. I wouldn't have you carry any more," protested Robin. "Don't you think that the good Saint Christopher would have carried it for you? Now give your weapon to me." Robin unbuckled his sword and climbed up on the friar's back. The strong friar easily carried Robin across the stream. When they reached the other side, Robin jumped down. "Please give me my sword, quickly. I am in a hurry." The friar smiled. "You have business on this side of the river. But I have my own business, young master. My business is on the other side. I am no longer a young man. I'm sure that if I wade through the river once more, I will develop cricks and pains in my back," he wheedled. "Please, do me the favor of carrying me across."