Along a dusty road, an eccentric party of bandits made their way brazenly under the shining light of the sun. First four men, three boys and a woman. Then three Wogs, and finally a Bear trudging along in the rear. All of them rode horses (save for the Bear), and they bore with them as well a motley assortment of looted weapons and armor as they made their way confidently through the countryside, and one of the Wogs carried a tattered and bloodied surcoat bearing the livery of Gurth, hung upside down on a pole as makeshift a banner.

For many days now Hae-jin and his followers had been waylaying Gurth’s men along the roads. By this time they had refined their system down to a fine art. The Bird would scout from the air, using this vantage point along with his extraordinary vision to spot roving bands of Gurth’s men (particularly those with prisoners and seized food). He would then return to Hae-jin and the others, who would quickly ride to a suitable location and prepare an ambush. All of them had horses by now, save for Ursilda whom no horse could hold, but the great bear kept up perfectly well with the others all the same, even at a gallop (for she was after all no ordinary bear, as she was ever wont to point out). Even the Fox came along, doubling as a backup scout and riding in a suitably configured sack on Hae-jin’s saddle when not otherwise required. Thus far their enterprises had been eminently successful. Gurth’s men tended to move in groups of ten or less, and Hae-jin always had twelve (one of whom was a colossal bear), or even thirteen if the Bird joined them and attacked from the air now and then to claw at heads and shoulders and pull people off their saddles. They usually had the element of surprise on their side, and if ever they felt themselves inadequately advantaged by either terrain or numbers they would simply leave that particularly party unmolested and seek out another. And thus far none of their own number had been seriously injured, though they had slain and scattered many of Gurth’s men. The mill itself they kept locked but otherwise unguarded, with their supplies tucked away inside the hidden cellar built by Ursilda and the Wogs, while their spare horses were concealed in a makeshift corral in the woods. They would visit the mill from time to time, depositing weapons and booty and replenishing their own supplies. Most of the food they captured from Gurth was released back to the population (either dropped off at a village or farm or sent along with newly released captives), but a portion of what could be readily consumed they kept for their own sustenance, which they stored in the cellar as well. By now many wagons of food had been liberated, as well as many scores of laborers.

And the name of Robin Goodfellow was being spoken far and wide across the countryside.

Hae-jin rode at the lead of his small column now, and suddenly he commanded his followers to halt. Up ahead in the sky, a small dot was swooping down in their direction. The Bird, as usual, bringing Hae-jin the latest intelligence. Hae-jin steadied his horse as the Bird lighted on the ground beside him. Hae-jin had gradually been getting better at reading the avian’s emotions, and the Bird seemed unusually excited.

“What news, Bird?”

“It’s finally happened. I spotted a column of Gurth’s men a few moments ago, and they are headed for the mill.”

Hae-jin felt a knot form suddenly in his stomach.

“How many of them are there?”

“Nearly thirty.”

The knot in Hae-jin’s stomach became quite a bit tighter. He’d always known it would only be a matter of time before Gurth’s men returned their attention to the mill, and Hae-jin had made advance preparations for such an eventuality. But against thirty men, outnumbered more than two to one….

There was nothing for it though. Hae-jin had a plan, and it had taken into account the possibility of being outnumbered. The mill was their refuge and their storehouse, and its loss would be sorely felt. And besides, this was also an opportunity, one which Hae-jin had been keenly waiting for.

“It’s time we met our enemy head to head. We will proceed with the plan.”

“But against thirty!”

“We are prepared to be outnumbered, even against thirty. This is what we’ve been waiting for.”

Hae-jin called back to the rest of the column, and as they gathered around he issued his orders. The plan was already known, each already knew his place and task, and in a few moments they were all of them barrelling down the road at a gallop, while somewhere ahead the enemy was waiting for them.

The sun shone balefully down on the scene at Mortimer’s Mill, where more than two score men at arms dressed in black and scarlet livery were milling about. Some of them were on horseback, sauntering around the perimeter of the farmstead like circling wolves. Others stood casually by, holding the horses of those who had dismounted and had been busy ransacking the farmstead. The doors were broken down, and everything had been turned out and broken into. Yet there was no sign of their quarry. A group of them were now gathering sticks and twigs as others built a fire in the middle of the yard, for they were preparing to burn the mill.

Suddenly, a shout rose up as one of their number pointed, and all heads turned towards the road.

There now was their quarry. Joan Greyflower, sauntering up the road on horseback. With her were also three impish creatures, looking comically small riding on full grown horses. And there also rode a man, of foreign countenance and foreign garb, and carrying in his hand a quarterstaff.

The captain of Gurth’s men eyed the newcomers warily as he sat on his horse. Here at last was their quarry, yet something seemed surely afoot.

Hae-jin brought his horse to a stop just out of reach of the captain. For a moment there was silence, broken only by the odd grunt of a horse as the rival parties eyed on another.

Hae-jin then spoke.

“What have we here at Mortimer’s Mill on this fine day? A lot of misbegotten churls looking for something they cannot find?”

The captain stirred, but did not speak. Hae-jin now reached into his clothing and produced a small, shiny black stone, which he now held out to the captain.

“Perhaps this is what you are looking for? A pretty trinket with which to tie a bratling to his nurse’s skirts?”

The captains eyes lit up when he say the scrying shard. He clearly knew what it was, and he instinctively began to reach out for it before withdrawing his hand again.

Hae-jin tutted.

“Fancy that, thirty strong men at arms frightened of a mere five. Perhaps I should keep this little toy for myself, for there is no one who will dare take it from me.”

The captain swore inaudibly. He knew he was being baited, even as he succumbed to the bait in the same instant. Suddenly the captain spurred his horse forward, and snatched at the scrying shard. In a flash, Hae-jin swung his staff out from nowhere and with a crack struck the captain upside of his helmet and nearly unhorsed him.

With a shout and a laugh Hae-jin reared his horse, and spurring it forward he bolted off down the road with Joan and the Wogs galloping beside him.

The captain was cursing profusely now as he ordered his men to mount. Soon thirty men of Gurth were astride their horses and tore down the road after their quarry.

Hae-jin rode at a slow gallop at first, just enough to allow Gurth’s men time to collect themselves and give chase. Down along the country rode they rode, with great plumes of dust rising in their wake as the chase went on.

In a short while they came to bank of a swift river, at which there was a crossroads. In one direction was the village of Tresham, but Hae-jin went the opposite way, galloping down the road beside the river bank as Gurth’s men followed.

Soon they came to a slight bend in the river. To one side there was a copse of woods which blocked the view ahead, and Hae-jin disappeared around the corner as his enemies sped to catch up. In a moment Gurth’s men rounded the bend, and abruptly came to a halt.

The road continued straight ahead to a bridge which lay across the river. The bridge was stone and steeply arched and elevated above the surrounding terrain, and sitting upon its crest there was a heavy wagon armored with thick wooden boards which was blocking the way. Here their quarry had stopped, and Hae-jin, Joan and the Wogs were now cantering around to one side of the road along the river bank.

Suddenly with a shout, six bowmen stood up from the bed of the wagon and unleashed a hail of arrows upon the men of Gurth. Then with a bellow a tremendous Bear came barrelling out of the woods, hemming Gurth’s men in from one side while Hae-jin, Joan and the Wogs penned them in from the other.

The road quickly became a killing field. Several men had fallen in the first couple volleys of arrows, and now they milled around in pandemonium as man and horse alike flew into panic as more men continued to fall beneath the yeomens’ arrows. A few of Gurth’s men tried to charge the wagon, but were shot down to a man as they approached. One or two tried to make a break for the river to swim across it and attack the wagon from the opposite side, but these were quickly struck down. The Wogs wielded their own peculiar hooked pole weapons with great effect, grabbing at Gurth’s men and pulling them off their horses as they attempted to escape and then circling back to skewer them with the points.

Finally there was cry from the captain. Gurth’s men had lost, and the survivors now turned their horses around and began tearing back up the road. Hae-jin wasted no time. As the yeomen released their last volley of arrows Hae-jin gathered up his own horsemen and the Bear and began to give chase in turn.

Now the positions were nearly reversed, save that Gurth’s men were in full flight. Back along the road they ran with Hae-jin and his comrades at their heels. The battle of Mortimer’s Mill had been decided, and Robin Goodfellow had proved the victor.

They were nearing the outskirts of Tresham now, when Alwog brought his horse alongside Hae-jin’s.

“How much farther do we chase them?”, the Wog shouted, “We’ve thrashed them enough already.”

“We already discussed this! We are going to chase them clear through the village.”

“But why!”

“Because I want the villagers to see it happen, that’s why.”

The village was now nearly upon them. Gurth’s men barreled through the green, scattering the villeins in their wake as Hae-jin’s men rode close on their heels. Men and women scrambled to get out of the way as others ran to the green see what the commotion was about. In a few minutes the riders had passed through, and went on down the road in the direction of Elmstead.

Finally, Hae-jin called a halt and turned his followers back. Gurth’s men remained in full flight, while Hae-jin and his followers headed in the opposite back towards Tresham.

The village green was all atwitter as men and women milled around, collecting upset handcarts and setting things back to order here and there, but mostly they talked in animated tones about what they had just seen. More people were filtering in from the outskirts of the village, brought by the noise and commotion, asking questions and getting only half responses.

Suddenly a hush fell upon the people as a group of riders entered the green at a relaxed trot. Joan Greyflower was riding a fine horse in their midst, with a foreign looking man at her side, and a bear and three mounted imps in her wake. A few people approached and attempted to speak to her, but Joan made no reply. The riders paraded through the green, and Hae-jin watched as the villagers gathered in stunned silence along their path, their faces displaying looks of wonder and curiosity, and as Hae-jin passed he attempted to briefly make eye contact with as many of the villagers as he could. In a few minutes the riders had crossed the green, and continued out of the village in the direction of the mill. And behind them in the village, the people began murmuring excitedly to one another.

The fire had now been lit, but Hae-jin had resolved to allow his brew to simmer for a while. For a day or two he and his fellows continued as they had before, waylaying Gurth’s men where they found them. Meanwhile, word of the incident at Tresham was spreading quickly, and soon all the neighborhood from Tresham to Elmstead was afire with the news.

It was on the third morning after the battle at Mortimer’s Mill that a group of villagers from Tresham were half heartedly tilling their fields. Suddenly there was a great beating of wings from above, and a marvelous golden Bird was now circling over their heads, crying out in a loud voice.

“Attend me, people of Linster! Hear the news that I bring! All good men and true, come hither to the village green at noon, and bear witness to the fate of a nation! Leave your fields and come to Tresham at noon!”

When all the farmers had heard the message at least once, the Bird soared off again and disappeared into the sky, leaving the startled farmers in its wake. All across the neighborhood that morning the farmers and laborers were accosted wherever they were, as the great bird appeared from the sky and called them to the village.

By noon, a very large crowd indeed had assembled at the green in Tresham, waiting expectantly for whatever was about to happen. Practically everyone who lived in Tresham was there, but likewise too were serfs and freemen from other parts of the area who had heard the summons.

Suddenly a loud murmur spread through the crowd, as a group of horsemen entered the green. At the front was Hae-jin, wearing various bits of armor and carrying in his hand a sword. Behind him rode ten armed horsemen and a bear in a widely spaced rank behind him, while the golden Bird soared above the heads of the crowd. Hae-jin and his followers had donned as much of their looted armor as would reasonably fit them, and one of the wogs carried aloft their banner with Gurth’s inverted livery, now further decorated with a number of familiar looking golden feathers sewn to its surface.

The horsemen crossed the green and headed for the church, and the crowd slowly followed them. Upon reaching the building the horsemen lined up at the door of the church with Hae-in at their head as the villagers gathered around them. Hae-jin then spurred his horse forward and addressed the crowd.

“By now many of you have heard my name. I am he who is called Robin Goodfellow.

For many days now my fellows and I have made war upon Gurth’s men. It is now time to rout them completely. I call upon the good people of Tresham to join in our cause, to seize for themselves the yoke which is upon them and cast it off forever. The reign of Gurth is come to an end! Follow me, and we shall soon rid this good land from the rotten pestilence of Gurth!”

Somewhere underfoot, strangely unnoticed by anyone in the crowd, a Fox crept between the legs of the people. Suddenly, a voice rose up, as if from somewhere nearby.

“Three cheers for our champion! Long live Robin Goodfellow! Hip hip….”

The crowd then burst out into a chorus of cheers.

Hae-jin addressed the crowd again, but his work had largely already been done. Every now and again a voice of assent from somewhere in the crowd would punctuate his words, as the Fox crept to and fro among the people, unobserved and undetected, almost as if the creature were invisible. The only one who ever saw Bartholomew was The Bird with his extraordinary eyes, who now watched the Fox with a sudden new interest.

More voices arose from the crowd now, and soon nearly every remark was punctuated with a resounding chorus of cheers. Now the elders of the community came forth, led by the village priest. They were a hungry, angry looking lot, with many long days of famine reflected in their eyes and long years of suffering etched into their faces. They pledged themselves and the entire village to the service of Robin Goodfellow.

And thus Hae-jin conquered the village of Tresham.

All that was required to make the conquest complete would be to seize the manor house itself. It was by far the largest building in the village, and the only one which was built of stone. It was the seat of government in the village, and nominally the residence of the lord of the manor. However, the lord of Tresham was the Bishop of Larchester, whose actual residence was in the city of that name, and the manor house was occupied by the bishop’s steward and his reeves, who managed the village in the Bishop’s absence and was in all practical respects the ruler of the village. Hae-jin had no difficulty in persuading the villagers to march on the house. Indeed, they surged upon it themselves, as years of pent up wrath and desperation all burst forth at once. By the time Hae-jin himself managed to reach the place, the villagers had already stormed the building and dragged out the steward and the reeves and hurled them on the ground before Hae-jin.

One of the village elders now turned to Hae-jin.

“Give us the word, Robin Goodfellow, and we shall put these men to death at once.”

Hae-jin felt a knot form in his stomach. He looked at the Bishop’s steward, a well dressed man about Hae-jin’s own age, with a faint suggestion of efficiency and respectability about him which was now lost and overwhelmed by the terror that was in the man’s eyes as he faced death on the threshold of his own home.

Hae-jin turned now to the elder.

“Release this man. Our quarrel is with Gurth, not with the nobles or their servants.”

The elder spat on the ground.

“The nobles and the church are no better than Gurth. All of them deserve death.”

For a moment Hae-jin was at a loss. Then a voice piped forth from somewhere near the ground amidst the crowd.

“Obey our captain! Release the steward, slay Gurth instead! Slay Gurth! Slay Gurth!”

Other voices then joined the cry, and the elders reluctantly released the steward and the reeves. And as Hae-jin crossed the threshold of the building and occupied the manor house, he reflected to himself that his new army was already proving to be a dangerous force indeed. And not just to the servants of Gurth. Hae-jin feared that the peasantry would most likely be inclined to unleash their fury upon whoever they might happen to take a dislike to, innocent and guilty alike. For the first time since coming to Linster, Hae-jin felt a sense of genuine fear at the thought that his own burgeoning army might prove the true equal of his enemy, in more ways than were desirable.

Hae-jin established his new headquarters in the manor house. From there he nominally directed the disposition of his ragtag army, though in practice he found himself working directly in the people’s midst more often than not, for it soon proved that very close leadership indeed was essential if the efforts of the villeins were to be productive in any way. And there was a great deal of work to be done. Hae-jin’s diminutive empire now consisted of the village and Mortimer’s Mill, which were garrisoned and fortified with trenches, overturned carts, and wooden palisades. Their herd of stolen horses was moved into a newly built corral in the village green, while likewise their tiny stockpile of stolen weapons was brought to the manor house and distributed as efficiently as possible among the more able men of the community. Those of the yeomen who joined Hae-jin always possessed weapons of their own of some sort, for such was required by law for all freemen. But the serfs had very little in the way of arms, and the village smithy was now operating day and night sharpening sickles, rebuilding scythes into crude spears, mounting billhooks on staves and fitting threshing flails with cruel iron bolts. When they were not occupied with constructing weapons and fortifications, the villagers were being drilled in the use of arms under Hae-jin (or whoever else who happened to be available, for Hae-jin’s presence seemed to be in demand everywhere at once). It was imperative that the villagers be readied for combat as quickly as possible, for Hae-jin knew that battle was not far away.

Word of the rebellion was sure to reach the king swiftly, and it was only a matter of time before his forces could be assembled to march on Tresham and suppress it. How much time Hae-jin couldn’t guess. What with the paralyzing political situation with Gurth and the potential threat of more rebellions elsewhere among imitators and copycats among the disgruntled peasantry, it might even be as much as a matter of weeks. But it would happen. It would surely happen.

But that wasn’t Hae-jin’s most immediate problem.

Gurth’s men had thoroughly ravaged the countryside, and were continuing to do so. Though Hae-jin now had numbers on his side, his army consisted mostly of the farmers. While they were soldiering, they were not working the fields. And while they were working the fields, they would not be soldiering. And Hae-jin needed them to spend every waking minute as soldiers, or at least the seedlings thereof. Food was therefore going to be a problem.

Sykes continued to lead sallies against Guth’s patrols, liberating more food and laborers with each day. But it wasn’t enough. A substantial infusion of food was needed, and quickly. This therefore gave Hae-jin his next military objective.

The largest and nearest supply of food was the Bishop’s granary in Elmstead. It had been occupied by Gurth many days ago, and was the central repository for all the food which Gurth’s men had seized from the local area. Elmstead was a substantially larger settlement than Tresham, a proper town in fact. To capture it was ambitious and risky, but Hae-jin’s entire enterprise was nothing if not risky and ambitious. Elmstead would be his next conquest.

Several days after the occupation of Tresham, Hae-jin was scouting the road to Elmstead. With him was Bartholomew, sitting comfortably in a carefully positioned sack hanging from the saddle. Bartholomew had proved to be extraordinarily helpful over the last few days, demonstrating an uncanny ability to collect information and move about unnoticed, and Hae-jin had come to frequently rely on the Fox. The Bird was nearly always occupied scouting out Gurth’s men while Sykes hunted them down, and Joan was usually engaged in maintaining cordial relations with the villagers and hearing out their many and varied grievances.

Over the last week Hae-jin had become very familiar with the countryside. At the moment he reckoned he was about a mile from Elmstead. It was morning, and a cool breeze whipped through the green grass as the sun cut through the windswept treetops and cast magical beams of gold on the ground, waving and undulating in the wind between murky patches of dark and sinister shadows.

Suddenly, from near his saddle the Fox hissed. Hae-jin looked down at Bartholomew, who returned his gaze and then pointed with a paw at a place under the trees just off the road.

A lone horseman stood there, sitting calmly on his animal as he watched Hae-jin from a distance. As Hae-jin looked back in turn the rider casually spurred his horse to a walk, and approached Hae-jin. There appeared to be no immediate threat emanating from the man, but the sight of him filled Hae-jin with a peculiar sense of loathing, and likewise Bartholomew quickly ducked down to hide at the bottom of his riding bag.

The rider stopped when he was about ten feet from Hae-jin’s horse, and there the two men regarded one another for a moment.

The newcomer was a muscular, broad shouldered man dressed in fine clothes, thoroughly resplendent by comparison to that of the serfs and yeomen with which Hae-jin had largely associated since coming to Linster. However, the man nonetheless gave the impression of an ordinary Linsterman, albeit from the higher echelons of society, wearing a finely embroidered tunic and feathered bycocket cap on his head. Yet simultaneously there were things about him which spoke of something weird and foreign. A strange looking sword hung at his side and his frame was wrapped in a dark colored cloak trimmed with speckled hyena fur. About his shoulders was a polished iron chain which he wore like a livery color, and hanging from it in lieu of a badge of office were a miniature pair of golden manacles.

“Good morning”, the man said, “A fine morning indeed to be out riding.”

The man’s face was thoroughly inscrutable. His features were boring and nondescript, and his complexion was dull and ambiguous. His expression bore a look of banal pleasantry, but his eyes were sunken and glazed, like hollow receptacles which irresistibly drew in the light of the world around them and sucked it into a crushing abyss.

Hae-jin felt an instinctive urge to reach for his sword, but he merely gripped his reins a bit tighter and replied.

“What do you want from me?”

The man shrugged.

“Merely to speak with you. I have heard a great deal about you, Robin Goodfellow. Your reputation has spread far and wide, and I will own that your activities have caused me no small amount of inconvenience.”

Hae-jin was already beginning to suspect the identity of his erstwhile companion, but now he was sure.

“I presume then that you are Gurth?”

“I am.”

And there it was. Right there, before him at that very instant, was Hae-jin’s enemy, conversing with him politely.

“You are quite bold to have sought me out alone”, Hae-jin said.

“No bolder than yourself, traveling alone as you are without the protection of your little band of peasants. Your achievements thus far have been surprising, and quite troublesome.”

“I aim to be both troublesome and surprising, particularly to those who have enslaved and persecuted the people.”

Gurth shrugged again.

“What is one creature that it doesn’t persecute another? The wolves devour the sheep, the sheep devour the clovers, and the clovers devour the sunlight. I perceive that you are an idealist, Robin Goodfellow, and a fool. Or else you are wise, and are merely leading the peasants in a dance of your own design. For a wise man would know that the wretches who become the prey of the wise would gladly prey upon the wise in turn, if they but had the wisdom to do so.”

“If that is the case, then the wise man would know that he cannot press his yoke upon others without one day suffering a reversal, and that to truly command men he must first command the hearts of men.”

“You speak as one who aspires to leadership. I am told by my associates that you are a professional soldier, one who has fallen from great prominence no less. I too am a professional. I do my work, and I excel at it. The only difference between you and I is that I remain at the top of my profession, while you have fallen to the bottom, where you will no doubt remain so long as you turn your back on true wisdom.”

Hae-jin shrugged.

“Only when one has stood at both the pinnacle of fortune and its abysses does one truly comprehend the path which lies between.”

Gurth tutted.

“A wise man would have reached the pinnacle and have remained there. You may have the veneer of wisdom, Robin Goodfellow, but you are still a fool at heart. I am glad to have seen that for myself. Good day.”

With that, Gurth turned his horse around and spurred it to a gallop. For a moment Hae-jin considered giving chase and perhaps slaying the man, but Gurth was already far in the distance as he rode at a seemingly unnatural speed. Gurth was bold, but only just bold enough.

Hae-jin turned his own horse around, and began to make his way back to Tresham. He still had the entire day before him, but at the moment he felt the need to take council with his comrades. The fact that Gurth was personally in the area was surely not a good sign.

Hae-jin had only gone a brief way when he realized that he had forgotten about the Fox who had been riding with him. He looked down into the sack at his saddle.

The Fox was gone.