Nothing was ever darker than Sherwood Forest at night. As the carriage rumbled along the dusky track, it was only ever lit by thin shafts of starlight that broke through the trees. Despite the impenetrable black, Albie Durnin lay on top of the carriage, her legs swinging off the roof. The cold night air stung her cheeks pleasantly and the soft rustling of leaves was sweeter than a lullaby; she was rocked gently to sleep.

"This is our forest."

What? Albie sat up. Glancing around her, she could see nothing but darkness, though she had definitely heard a voice. Her chest rose and fell heavily with anticipation. They had almost made it to Nottingham with no difficulty, surely not now-

"Didn't you hear me? This is our forest."

Albie slammed her hand down on the roof and the carriage juddered to a halt. Swiftly she jumped down from the roof, circled the perimeter of the carriage and pulled the ornate door ajar.

"What's the matter?" a familiar voice said from inside.

"Did you hear that?" Albie asked, as the familiar voice moved towards her, "someone's following us."

Sir James Brandon, her escort, emerged fully, allowing his full frame to dominate Albie's eye line.

"Are you sure?" he asked, his hand on the hilt of his sword, "I don't see anything."

Albie turned around, squinting, trying desperately to make out any movement. The horseman clicked his tongue impatiently.

"There's nothing there, m'lady," he said, "and I'd prefer to make it to Nottingham before daybreak so could you please-"

There was a whistling sound in the air and the horseman fell silent. Albie held her breath. Placing an intrepid hand on Brandon's arm, she slowly moved towards the front of the carriage where the horseman had been sat. Albie sighed with relief; he was there still, leant against the hard wood of the carriage, but… there was an arrow in his head. Albie screamed. The sharp shriek of metal against metal rang out as Brandon pulled forth his sword, pushing Albie between him and the carriage.

"Get back inside," he said, "get back inside to your sister."

Albie shuffled towards the door of the carriage, trying to control her uncontrollable whimpers. Just as she turned to clamber into the carriage, a hand gripped her upper arm tightly and she was pulled away. Albie screamed again.

"Didn't you hear me, missy?" a gruff voice whispered in her ear, "This is our forest."

As her eyes grew accustomed to the darkness, Albie could make out her surroundings more clearly. Brandon stood in front of her, sword drawn, a furious look directed at the man who held her. Albie noticed two other men emerging from the trees behind Brandon.

"Behind you!" she cried, kicking at the man who gripped her.

Brandon spun around and launched himself at the men. The man who held her chuckled as sword hit sword.

"Your friend doesn't stand a chance," he laughed, his foul breath blowing in her ear.

"You obviously don't know James Brandon very well," she replied, and continued to struggle.

Moments later she was mostly free, a resolute hand remained on her wrist however, nails biting into the skin.

"Let her go," she heard Brandon shout from behind her – he had obviously defeated his opponents with ease Albie noted with pleasure.

"Not a chance," the man replied, looking at Albie with a look she had only ever seen men wear when looking at young women, "we're going to have some fun."

"Brandon!" Albie called out in desperation as the man pulled her towards him.

She heard footsteps through leaves but then, silence.

"Brandon!" she cried again.

"Your friend's in a spot of bother," the man replied, and spun her round so she could see Brandon with a knife at his neck.

Albie caught the latter's eye; he looked scared – scared for her.

"Albie," he said, trying with all his might to keep the small, shining dagger from his throat.

Before she knew what was happening, Albie was pushed to the ground, her skirts lifted. She screamed. Her feet made contact with the man as she kicked out but this did nothing to stem his efforts. Her wrists were pressed to the ground and she squeezed her eyes shut, her face flooded with tears. The man continued to chuckle gleefully. Then, that familiar whistling in the air. The man was silent. Albie opened her eyes tentatively; the man collapsed on top of her. The full weight of his body and stench pressing her down into the ground, she screamed again. There was another whistle and moments later, hands were pulling her out from under the man. It was Brandon.

"Are you alright?" he asked, turning her to face him, crouching down slightly to stare into her eyes intently.

Albie nodded vigorously, then looked back again to see the man who had tried to… had tried to…. He had an arrow in his back, blood pooling in his clothes where it had struck.

"Are you alright?"

Albie turned, Brandon turned. Behind them stood a group of men – five of them. One of them held a bow and quiver in his hands.

"You saved us?" Brandon asked, before Albie could say anything.

"Yes," the man with the bow replied.

"Who are you?" Albie said, her voice high and pitchy.

"I'm Robin Hood," the man replied, "and these are my men," he added, gesturing behind him.

Some of the men raised their hands half-heartedly in greeting; others did nothing, merely stared.

"Well, I thank you," Brandon said sincerely.

"Yes," Albie agreed, "thank you."

Robin Hood smiled kindly and inclined his head.

"Albie?" a child's voice called out from behind them, "what's going on?"