Assassin in the Greenwood

of this castle.' Corbett paused and stared at Branwood who had now regained his composure and glanced coolly back. 'The rest,' Corbett raised his eyes to the roof, 'was easy. We went into the forest but you had already sent orders ahead and led us into that ambush. The same is true of poor Gisborne.' Corbett smiled ruefully. 'All was confusion that day. I was leaving for Kirklees. You, Sir Peter, were ostensibly furious with Gisborne, hurrying about so no one could really know what you were doing. Naylor and Roteboeuf stayed to sustain the sham whilst you slipped down the tunnels, gathered the outlaws, and Gisborne blundered into your trap.' Corbett looked up at the Earl of Lincoln who sat fascinated by what he was hearing.
    'My Lord, you doubted whether anyone in the castle could enter the forest and return. Nottingham is a small city. You are beyond its walls, even after riding through busy streets, in twenty minutes. Can you imagine how quickly it can be left by going down a secret passageway? Who knows? Perhaps we can find one of the tunnels. My reckoning is that after leaving the castle cellars Sir Peter could be in the heart of Sherwood, plan an ambush, carry it out and be back in the castle with an absence of only four or five hours. And who would notice? Sir Eustace, when he was alive, was a broken man, whilst there was always the ubiquitous Roteboeuf ready to say that Sir Peter had gone thither or hither. And, to complicate the mystery, sometimes Branwood would not go but send Naylor instead, just to muddy the waters a little further.'
    Corbett sat down and looked around. He had never seen people so motionless, such a captive audience.
    'My story is nearly done,' he remarked quietly. 'A clever scheme though flawed from the start. When I wrote down what had happened to me I began to detect a pattern.' Corbett ticked off the points on his fingers. 'First, the attack on the castle on my first day here. How did the outlaws know which room I was in? Secondly, that ambush in Sherwood Forest. At the time I dismissed it but hindsight makes wise men of us all. Wasn't it strange that none of us was hit by those arrows? Branwood and Naylor had to keep me safe because slaying the King's Commissioner would have been pushing matters a little too far.' Corbett stopped and stared down the table. He was sure Branwood was almost smiling. 'You'll hang!' he remarked. 'You are a traitor and a murderer, as are Naylor and Roteboeuf and anyone else who assisted.'
    Corbett's sombre words had the desired effect. Roteboeuf, his face white and haggard, sprang to his feet, knocking the chair over. Lincoln's soldiers closed in.
    'It's true!' he yelled.
    'Shut up!' bellowed Branwood.
    'Oh, for God's sake!' Roteboeuf struggled in the arms of the soldiers. 'Sir Hugh, I am a cleric. I claim benefit of clergy and will confess all, giving names and dates.' He stopped and stared beseechingly at Corbett.
    'The King's mercy will be recommended,' he replied quietly.
    'Shut up, you lying bastard!' Branwood yelled. 'You snivelling coward!'
    Roteboeuf, however, heartened by Corbett's words, fell to his knees.
    'It's true!' he sobbed. 'Branwood hated Robin Hood. He was obsessed with the outlaw. He found the tunnels leading from the castle. He, Naylor and myself used often to go down there. Sir Eustace never suspected anything. Then, late last autumn, just after the feast of All Saints, the letters came about Robin of Locksley leaving the King's armies in Scotland and Branwood drew up this scheme. We left the castle by a secret route, masked and hooded. Locksley's two companions were killed outright, we left Locksley himself for dead.' Roteboeuf licked his lips. 'We were hasty, frightened of being so close to Kirklees. We took his possessions, including his signet ring. At first Branwood contented himself with thinking the outlaw was dead. He forged letters to his steward under the stolen seal to obtain and sell Robin's few possessions at Locksley.'
    Roteboeuf was about to continue when Naylor darted across the table, picked up a knife and, roaring with rage, tried to lunge at him. The knife was knocked from his hand. At Lincoln's command, Naylor's arms were pulled roughly behind his chair and tied together. Roteboeuf talked on. How Branwood had devised the scheme to pose as Robin Hood. How easy it had been to enter the forest and recruit the many outlaws there. How he and Naylor acted as spokesmen. How they had planned the attack on the tax-collectors