Three Swords: A Marvel Legends of Asgard Novel by C L Werner

Author:C L Werner [Werner, C L]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Tags: action and adventure, superheroes, Marvel
Publisher: Aconyte
Published: 2022-02-01T00:00:00+00:00

Fourteen

“Welcome to Sherwood.” There was a boyish exuberance in the way Fandral made the statement. Volstagg could appreciate his excitement. The forest was as lush and green as any he’d seen apart from the sylvan glades of the Norn Forest. Simply walking beneath its leafy boughs provoked a feeling of vitality.

If there had been the least hesitancy when Fandral led them into Nottingham, there was none now. He moved with a confidence that amazed Volstagg. It was as though he knew every rock and bush they came upon. “There is where we robbed the Bishop of Hereford,” Fandral told them, pointing to a stand of larch trees just beside what looked like the faintest reminder of a trail through the forest. “We sent his entourage on their way as naked as babes and gave their money and clothes to the poor.”

“Seems an odd way for an outlaw to spend his plunder,” Volstagg said. “I’d have thought using what you’d stolen to buy arms and armor so these people could rise up and fight would have been better.”

Fandral gave him a frank look. “There’s no enemy more dire than hunger, and before anyone can fight another enemy, that one must be defeated.” He looked off in the direction of Nottingham. “Prince John wanted to dethrone King Richard while he was away. To ensure nobody could oppose him, he levied such hefty taxes that even some barons were turned into beggars. He set Saxon against Norman so that his enemies would be too distrustful of one another to ever unite against him.” Volstagg could see the hate boil back up in Fandral’s face and voice. “A cruel and cunning man.”

Hogun suddenly stopped and bent down to retrieve something from the ground. “Looks like Robin Hood missed this one,” he said, holding between his fingers a little oval of metal so corroded that it took Volstagg a moment to realize it was a coin.

Fandral examined Hogun’s find. “Even were it not so worn, I wouldn’t recognize the royal portrait stamped on this coin.” He rubbed away some of the dirt and corrosion and whistled in surprise. “1546,” he read. Volstagg could see the emotion shining in Fandral’s eyes as he looked out across Sherwood. “It’s been over three hundred years as these English calculate things.”

“Maybe nearer four hundred,” Volstagg suggested. “It’s clear that coin’s been lying there for quite a while.”

“Long enough for Robin Hood to become a legend,” Fandral mused. “Long enough for what we fought for to be forgotten.” Suddenly he turned to his friends, an air of solemnity clinging to him. “I know this forest like I know the back of my hand. I can’t say where Brona has established his lair, but I know where I want to start our search. A place that has hidden outlaws before might be put to such use again.”

“Your old hideout?” Volstagg wondered.

Fandral smiled and gestured at the trees to the north. “The Major Oak is that direction. With all the hunters the Sheriff of Nottingham had looking for us, they never found our camp.

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