Sherwood Forest was beautiful this time of year. The snow had fallen and it lay heavy on the branches of the oaks causing them to sag. Marion walked beneath them gathering twigs for the Yule fires and stamping her feet along to an old folksong to keep warm. As she paused to search for the next twig a robin flew down to the ground and hopped around looking for grubs in the furrows the wild hogs had left behind. Distracted, Marion didn't notice the twig snap behind her. A hand clawed at her shoulder and as she turned around an object whizzed past her ear. A scream froze in her throat as the man behind her fell dead and another man came swinging through the trees. Flakes of snow fluttered from the branches as he leapt from each closely knitted bough. And the air fell silent.
"Sorry Miss." He called with a cheery smile. He was a tall man, with rosy cheeks and shoulder length brown hair, on top of which was a light green hat with a tawny partridge feather poking out of it. He wore the peasant garb, mottled green and brown; his feet were clothed in deerskin boots and across his back stretched a longbow and a quiver. He was easy to see against the white of the snow but Marion had a feeling that in autumn this man would disappear as easily as the early morning dew drops on a sunny lawn.
"Art thou not cold sir?" she inquired, pulling her own fur lined cloak tighter around her slender shoulders. "Thou dost look chilled to the bone, indeed you are making me shiver." And she couldn't help but smile at the stranger whose own expression was both infectious and handsome.
"I am cold Miss but the warmth of your smile is enough to keep out the chill, and the cold keeps me alert to men like those who were pursuing you," said the chap, gesturing to the corpse beside. Marion looked towards the crippled and stiffening body of the expired man and shuddered. She fancied that she recognised his face but couldn't place it. "May I inquire as to why you were being followed by one of Nottingham's henchmen?" called the man seeing the worried look etched upon the young girl's attractive face. And suddenly Marion remembered. She had last seen the man at her uncle's engagement party. He had stood staring and scowling at Marion for most of the evening, she had found it so hard to enjoy herself. But she would be troubled by him no longer.
"I promise you, I have no reason known to me to be followed, well apart from the obvious."
"Which is?"
"Why I am the future duchess of Nottingham sir! Your ignorance shocks me." She may have replied with a harsh tone but the puzzled look upon the stranger's face made her heart melt and she covered a smile with her hand.
"Milady, forgive me, of course you are the beautiful Maid Marion." He said with a bow, and with that he sprang away leaving Marion's question trailing into the empty forest,
"And your name is...?"
Leonora, Marion's lady in waiting, carefully combed the knots from Marion's hair as they talked about what had conspired that morning. Leonora was a buxom woman who had nursed Marion since she was a baby; in fact she was more of a mother to Marion than the Lady Nottingham.
"You have lovely hair Marion," said Leonora in a thick Scottish accent, stroking the deep brown hair through her fingers. Marion looked up into the mirror and returned the beaming smile. "You shouldn't go after such a stranger,' she continued on the subject they had been discussing since Marion had returned, ruddy faced and excited. 'He could be dangerous, flinging arrows around the place. He shot one of the sheriff's men for the Gods' sake."
"But you didn't see him Leonora!" said Marion standing up and spinning around to face her. "He has the most striking face. I've never felt this way about anyone before." She clasped the hands of the Nurse and pulled her around the room. Leonora loved Marion like her own and she laughed with cheer to see her so happy. But the happiness was short-lived.