His red ringlets cascaded into his hands - he was a man made dumb by his own indecision.
"How can I now return home?" he asked Asgarth, who had been beside him for eight campaigns and never once issued unwanted advice.
King Richard continued:
"I do not believe that I have God's strength in this. My brother has changed I tell you. I myself did not recognise him last time we met. He used to be a practical man, a coffer counter, with no temperament for the exotic or surreal.
“It was I, Richard, who has always been the risk-taker - I travelled whilst John did stay at home - leaving him to a handful of farms and a quarterance of hungry soldiers.
“And still, Britain would fare better without him, I know this also. And yet he threatens me thusly - for my part to remain away and not sully his concern? I swear that those black creatures have entered his head - he was most unwell, last time we met."
"Then you must go ensconced with some elaboration. Tonight we can take the place of Lord Milfoil and his party, who I know will oblige us for a crown."
"So it be said, be it done. Pity the King who is dislocate from his sovereign home."
Two days later Richard and Asquith were once again on British soil. A solitary figure stood on the beach to greet them. He had waist long hair and a tall broad form. With hand on heart he said very quietly,
"Welcome my King, I have come to escort you."
-Gabriel Brunsdon, Puck in Hell, Azlander Series
Richard rent the outer fur costume from his chest, tearing the sheath obliquely to the waist. He stepped naked from its shell as it dropped heavily to the floor.
Permute and discontent, the meeting with his brother had left him ineffably disturbed - and with high expectations now lain to waste, he fell to his chair, naked and fazed.
The very magic he had been accused of by the Sheriff had been there with his own blood all along. And the power of this evil was beyond any army or argument that he could gather to winningly oppose.
In no uncertain terms he was to take his exile abroad and flee the darkness of the Isle. This madness feared him to the core. The enchantments were too thick and many.
He vowed ever stronger to seek his true Lord with achievable campaigns - and although he had lost the lands of his reign, he might still champion the empires of Christendom, until his mortal close.
-Gabriel Brunsdon, Puck in Hell, Azlander Series
As he drew ever nearer he could see just one solitary figure sitting with his back to him staring at the flames.
His hopefulness reawakened that this was the Pookah of the Forest - Robin - he had come to find.
Squinting through the windows of his mask he could just make out the shine of thorny black antlers springing from his head.
Richard's blood was pumping hard with trepidation. The figure sitting before the fire still had his back to him and was clearly as tall as himself, if not bigger still. Black imps were playing at his feet and darting in and out around the orange light. They had legs like sticks and twiggy arms - Richard watched on, mesmerised by their spritely dance.
"So this is what the Fey look like" he bethought as he gradually made his way closer. The figure was smoking a pipe - its fragrance smelt of plums and mead.
"Robin!" he called tenuously ... now just six feet away - yet no answer came. Boldly he approached and sat himself down on the other side of the camp, face to face with the creature that awaited him.
He lifted his mask away from his face in courtesy, revealing his red gold hair and beard he was known by. The figure before him in kind, removed his horned helmet and laid it down on the bare earth beside them. The black imps clamoured to entwine themselves around the curves, swinging on the bones and rutting themselves on the spikes of the horns.
King Richard felt ill with himself the very moment he locked eyes with he to whom he had come to meet. For very nearly this man was a reflection of his own self, and not Robin at all.
"My God, John!" he said ... and then the fire went out.
-Gabriel Brunsdon, Puck in Hell, Azlander Series
Two men helped to heave the enormous fur mantle over Richard's head. It was made entirely of black rabbit and the gown of fur hung from shoulder to floor. It was worn as part of an old Northern ritual, with a leathered mask that too was dark.
He was an exceedingly tall man and looked all the part of a mythical creature. Tonight he was to meet with the Fey of the Forest and was told that this was the most impressive of costumes to go in. Two tailors and over one hundred pelts were sewn to make up a cloak that had no opening.
In the twilight he stood alone by the river that ran past his castle and through to the meadows. He had waited for a little time before walking further into the thick.
Richard could hear someone chanting and saw through to the scrub the flicker of a fire burning fast. He was now beginning to have some doubts. What if this was an elaborate game of assassination? He faltered. The mask was giving him claustrophobia and its fresh skin filled his nostrils with the strong smell of the tanning oils saturate within.
Although lighter than common armor, his cloak hung hotly, and he moved only slowly into the dark with but a clumsy frailty.
-Gabriel Brunsdon, Puck in Hell, Azlander Series
King Richard sought the Azlan everywhere, through expeditions and campaigns abroad; he roamed the coasts, he made inroads, evangelised with escapades, yet nought could quell his longing.
His advisors cautioned him against this ceaseless travel, for his eyes were never at home, and in truth his home had become almost foreign, and to him it was unknown.
With every conquest afar he won celebrity, however his own government saw not the parity.
-Gabriel Brunsdon, Puck in Hell, Azlander Series
"Should have, could have, would have - now these are magic words, I think not. He was intent on slaying us all, robes or no robes - you and I are only intact because we departed the district when we did."
This was of course most true and the Monk thought so of the evil behind them saying:
"I guess we must now go back."
"I guess that we will,” said Robin with equal resignation. "But first, let me gather together a band of Elvish to take with us - we can then set up camp in the forest and parley with the town - but only when needs must call."
And so it was decided that to Nottingham they would return - but this time with a small and very unusual army behind them.
-Gabriel Brunsdon, Puck in Hell, Azlander Series
The Sheriff Marc had an inner circle of exceedingly young and nubile boys. He detested women, yet coupled with them often, for public display, or at times, to satiate some violence within.
His taxations were unparalleled and the country worked hard to appease his demands.
It was six months before Tooke and Robin were to be told of the hangings he had ordered - for the two had travelled in a different direction to the Brothers, and communication was scarce, due to the war. And they had purposefully hidden in places of no connection.
"Why did you not know this in time to save these men?" Tooke asked despairingly.
"We have had this discussion a many times" said Robin casting his head back and staring at the sky. "I am not God, Brother - I simply cannot see and solve everything, or even much at all.
"We should have both foreseen the risk and kept them in our care."
-Gabriel Brunsdon, Puck in Hell, Azlander Series
