'We're being followed.'
'Aye, boyo, I've seen them.'
'Who do you think they are?'
'Dunno,' Gareth shrugged. 'We'll have to wait and see.'
'They could be outlaws.'
'Then we'll give 'em a bit of a surprise.'
Gareth seemed oddly relaxed. Was it bravado or stupidity? Robin wondered how good he was. The boy could shoot an arrow and bring down a pigeon at eighty paces but that didn't mean he could fight. He lowered his voice.
'Do you remember what to do if we're attacked?'
'Don't worry,' Gareth tapped his bow. 'I've not forgotten.'
The path entered open woodland and began a slow climb. Robin caught glimpses of the other party through the trees. There were two of them and they were on foot. He wondered if they were travellers like themselves. That didn't seem likely. He looked around. For the moment they were safe. Robbers weren't renowned for heroics. They preferred to attack out of cover and there wasn't any.
The path reached the top of the ridge and the woodland gave way to briars and thornbushes. Muddy footprints told a chilling tale. The men had got there first and run ahead. Tracks through the wet grass showed where one had entered the bushes. Wind disturbed the branches and he saw a figure with a drawn bow.
'They're laying an ambush.'
'Why do you say that, boyo?'
'I've seen them.' Robin slipped the safety catch on his crossbow. 'I'll get in a quick shot.'
'No!' Gareth pushed the bow away. 'I know who they are.'
He shouted in Welsh. The bushes parted and a man appeared. He had the barrel chest of an archer and walked like one. Gareth jumped down from his horse and embraced him. A second man came out of the undergrowth. They spoke for a while in their native language then spoke to Robin in English.
They said they feared he and Gareth were robbers: that was why they were hiding. Robin didn't believe a word of it but didn't argue. They agreed to act as guides and demanded two shillings a day. That was an exorbitant price but better than being set upon. Robin made a point of saying that Master Baret was a friend of Sir Guy Gascoigne and could put in a good word for them with his recruiting sergeant.
***
They stopped before Salisbury Cathedral and dismounted. John Baret waited for his escort to disperse. He didn't want to be seen with them. From the moment they had arrived at the city gates they'd given trouble. It was normal practice to wash horses before taking them inside. A pond was provided for that purpose. Owners could wash their mounts or pay a boy to do it. Everyone cooperated except the two Welsh ruffians. They argued with the bailiffs and a queue of indignant travellers formed. Finally, they were let through, dirty and without a proper search.