The sergeant in command of the company ordered his men to lay down their weapons. ‘You are, yes, and it would be unfair to deprive you of it. But you must understand that there are wishes that may not be granted. You must not ask to be set free. You must not ask for anything involving your leaving of this wood. Your request must not involve any injury or harm to any person. You must not ask for anything impossible, such as to see a pony with five legs.’

‘We had one of those once,’ interjected one of the bowmen, Edward of Witham.

‘A pony with five legs? Rubbish!’ commented a second, Richard of Sumerton.

‘It’s true, I swear,’ said Edward.

‘What happened to it?’ asked Richard.

‘We ate it,’ Edward answered.

‘You ate it?’ Richard echoed.

‘We did. We had a freak horse meal.’

‘Right lads, that’s enough wittering. We’ve got a job to do,’ said the sergeant. Turning to Gregory, he said: ‘Have you decided yet?’

‘I’ve only a small request,’ said Gregory, ‘and it doesn’t fit into any the categories you mentioned.’

‘Very well,’ said the sergeant. ‘Let’s hear it.’

It seems Gregory had remembered a very old joke, for he answered: ‘I’ve always been a great lover of music, and I beg to be allowed to sing one final song before I die.’

‘Is that all?’ said the sergeant. ‘I can't see any problems there. Why, I’m rather partial to the old voice box exercises myself.’ He began to launch into a rendition of his own, but stopped quickly on seeing the looks from the others. ‘Of course, not everyone has the time to practise. What is your song?’

Gregory of Almsley pretended to think for a moment. ‘I should like to sing a song that has always been a favourite in our family. A song my mother used to sing to me as she rocked me on her knee.’

‘And what is it?’

‘It’s a very simple tune. It’s called “A hundred thousand green bottles”.’

‘ “A hundred thousand green bottles”, eh?’ I don’t think I know that one. It sounds fun. When you’re ready.’

Richard moved to speak, but he was silenced by a wave of his boss’s hand.