Robin Hood and Guy of Gisborne

I've been trying to read the ballads of Robin hood, but they're pretty heavy going due to the arcane language, though the stories themselves are far more interesting than the modern 'pc' Robin Hood. So l decided to try to write them as a story, sticking as close as l could to the original.

Robin Hood and Guy of Gisborne
‘They tied me up, and took my bow, the b**ds,’ growled Robin. ‘I’ll track them down, if it takes the rest of my life!’
‘Dreams are fast, master.’ Replied John. ‘As the wind that blows over a hill. But a wind that is loud tonight may be still by the morning, as the saying goes. We’ll catch up with them’
Robin turned to his men. ‘Get dressed, and get ready. Wait here, while l go with John to track those men. They’ll be in the forest still.’ Pulling on their woodland green cloaks, they swiftly left.
A short while later, they were deep into the forest, and Robin felt the familiar feeling of contentment at being in the place he loved the best.
Robin grabbed John’s arm, and pulled him into the deep shade of an oak. Leaning against a tree was a man. A sword and a dagger hung from his belt, but it was the man’s strange outfit, which drew their attention. Dressed in horse leather, a horse’s mane flowed from his helmet, and horses’ tails were attached to his shoulders. The effect was both strange and disconcerting.
‘I recognise this man,’ said Little John under his breath. ‘He’s been many a man’s bane. You stay here, under this tree, while l confront him, and find out what he means by coming into the forest.’
Robin turned his sharp gaze on John. ‘I find it strange that you think so little of me. How often do l send my men on ahead, while l stand around at the back? There’s no skill in knowing when a knave speaks, and if it wouldn’t break my bow, l’d hit you over the head with it.’
John shook off the hand, which Robin had placed on John’s shoulder to soften his words, and they parted on bad feeling.
Striding away, John determined to go to Barnsdale, but when he got there, he was saddened to see two of his fellow outlaws lying dead in a hollow. Looking around swiftly, he saw Will Scarlett running away, pursued by over a hundred of the Sheriff’s men. He pulled his bow from over his shoulder. ‘I can’t help you, Will,’ he muttered. ‘But l can kill one of the Sheriff’s men for you.’ Drawing back his bow, he took aim, but the bow failed, and split as the arrow was shot. Still, his aim was true, and he had the satisfaction of seeing the arrow hit home, bringing down a man.
The man he had hit was William a Trent, and if he had been asked his opinion before he had been shot, he would have answered that he’d rather been hung from the gallows than left to rot on the forest floor.
It took six men to bring LittleJohn down, but eventually he was tied fast to a tree.
‘You’ll be hanged high on a hill, for everyone to see,’ said the Sheriff to John as he rode up.
‘Maybe,’ Growled John in reply. ‘If it be Christ’s will.’

Meanwhile, back in the forest, Robin had left the shade of tree, and walked boldly up to the man.
‘Good day,’ said Sir Guy.
‘Good day,’ replied Robin. ‘I see you have a bow. I guess you’re a good shot.’
‘I get by’ said Guy evenly. ‘But l have somewhere to be,’ he said, forestalling any challenge. ‘Although l seem to be lost, and time’s passing.’ He conceded.
‘I can guide you through the woods,’ offered Robin, ‘If you tell me where you’re going.’
‘I seek an outlaw, by name of Robin Hood,’ replied Guy. Robin raised his eyebrows.
‘Meeting him is worth more to me than gold,’ added Guy in reply to Robin’s look.
‘If you two met, it would soon be seen who was the more skilful before you parted.
Find some other trial of skill to pass the day away,’ counselled Robin. ‘Or if you wish, we will walk in the woods. We might by chance meet with Robin Hood.’
After some talk, they agreed to a challenge of archery. They cut down a few summer shrubs growing under a briar, and spaced them evenly, setting the space between them to be the width of sixty rods, to see who could shoot nearest to the marks.
‘Lead on then, friend,’ said Sir Guy.
‘Nay, by my faith,’ said Robin Hood, ‘You shoot first.’
The first good shoot that Robin led with did not shoot an inch from the mark. Guy was a good enough archer, but he could not shoot as near as Robin. The second shot of Sir Guy’s hit within the garland, but Robin Hood shot it even better for he split the mark in two.
‘God’s blessing on your heart!’ said Guy with a laugh, ‘your shooting is good. Is your heart as good as your hands? You’re better than Robin Hood. Tell me your name, good fellow,’ said Guy.
‘Nay, by my faith,’ said good Robin, grinning. ‘Tell me your name first, stranger.’
‘I live over by the dales,’ replied Guy easily, ‘and I have done many a bad turn. My name is Guy of Gisborne.’
‘My dwelling is in the wood,’ said Robin. ‘My name is Robin Hood of Barnesdale, The man you’ve been looking for.’

It was a tremendous sight, to see these two men clash, their blades flashing and bright in the sunlight. Back and forth they fought for two hours, both men evenly matched. Suddenly Robin caught his foot on a root, and stumbled. Guy was quick and nimble, and hit him on the left side.
‘Ah, dear Lady!’ said Robin Hood, sending a hasty prayer to St Mary. ‘You are both mother and maid! I think it was never my destiny to die today.’ He leapt up, and with a great backhanded stroke, he beheaded Sir Guy.
With a cry of victory, he took Sir Guy’s head by the hair, and stuck it on the end of his bow.
‘You have been a traitor all your life, which now is at an end.’ Robin pulled forth an Irish knife, and cut Sir Guy’s face until he was unrecognisable, saying as he cut, ‘Good Sir Guy, don’t be angry with me. If you have had the worse cuts at my hand, you shall have the better cloth.’ So saying, Robin stripped off his clothes, and dressed himself in Guy’s horse leather outfit, replacing Guy’s with his own.
‘The bow, the arrows, and this little horn l’ll take, and now, Sir Guy, you’ll come to Barnesdale with me, to see how my men are faring.’
Robin set Guy’s horn to his mouth, and wound a long blast.

The Sheriff of Nottingham heard the blast of the horn as he was lounging under a tree with his men.
‘Listen! Listen!’ said the Sheriff, ‘That’s a good sound. I hear Sir Guy’s horn blow, he has killed Robin Hood. Look, here comes that sturdy man, clad in his horse leather. Come here, Sir Guy, tell me what you want as a reward.’
‘I want none of your gold,’ replied Robin Hood, ‘But now I have slain the master,’ he said, holding forward his bow, on the end of which was the disfigured head. ‘Let me now go strike the knave. That’s all the reward I ask, and the only reward l’ll accept.’
‘You’re mad,’ said the Sheriff happily. ‘You could have had a knight’s fee. Seeing you’ve asked for so little though, I’m happy to grant it.’
But Little John had heard his master’s voice and knew that it was Robin.
‘Now shall I be freed,’ thought Little John.
Robin strode up to Little John, intending to free him straightaway, but the Sheriff and his company followed close at his back.
‘Back off!’ said Robin angrily. ‘Why do you follow me? There’s nothing you need to hear.’ So saying, Robin pulled out his Irish knife, and cut free John, giving him Sir Guy’s bow, for him to use as a stave. But John took Guy’s bow and picked up an arrow by his foot.
The Sheriff saw Little John draw the bow. Turning tail, he fled towards Nottingham and his company followed close behind him. But he could not outrun Little John’s, arrow – he shot it cleanly through the Sheriff’s heart.