This is part three of the long epic "Quintessence of Life", a long and captivating epic about love, hatred, politics, treachery, and mysteries. This part is called "Fight for Peace".

In "Fight for Peace", Robin Hood finally returns to England after having been officially declared dead but having survived his grave wound. He discovers that King Richard disappeared on the way from Acre. No longer enemies, Robin and Guy fight against Prince John and the Black Knights as brothers-in-arms, assisted by Archer and others.

The main characters of the story are Robin and Guy.

The plot is largely focused on the political aspect of Robin Hood's cause – fighting for England and King Richard. The second part of Season 2 was largely about Robin's efforts to save the king and defeat the Black Knights, and this story has kind of a similar plotline. Robin is portrayed as the king's man and the people's hero, but anyway more as the king's man, which is how I believe he was portrayed on the show. The plot is focused on the sophisticated conspiracies against King Richard.

The love component of this story/novel includes Robin/Melisende, Robin/Marian, Guy/Marian, Guy/Meg, Will/Djaq, Prince John/Isabella, and some other relationships. There will be interesting developments between Guy, Meg, and Marian, and I hope you will like the Guy/Meg storyline. There will be several chapters, in which action takes place in Aquitaine, at the court of love, and these chapters are very beautiful and dramatic. If you have ever read something about Eleanor of Aquitaine's court, then you know what I mean; if you know nothing, then you will be positively surprised.

Warning! "Fight for Peace" is more tragic than the previous parts, and there are two major character deaths in the plotline. Rest assured that Guy is going to find happiness and peace, which he rightfully deserves. Unfortunately, Robin has a bittersweet end because I have always considered Robin a more tragic character than Guy, but I promise that our hero will find peace in the very end.

Robin's disillusionment storyline is devoted to jadey36 who gave me tons of valuable advice about some twists. Meg's storyline is devoted to funnygirl00 who encouraged me to write about this lady.

The plot is not absolutely historically accurate. Nevertheless, there are many events from history, like King Richard's captivity. Some historical events are changed for fictional purposes.

Please be aware that there are scenes of violence and bloodshed. There are also extremely sensitive scenes, very emotional and dramatic.

Reviews are appreciated. Constructive criticism is always welcome. I would be very grateful if you find a minute to write a review. I only ask you to be polite and tolerant as I believe that if people begin to criticize the story without explaining what they dislike, it creates unhealthy tension.

Undoubtedly, I don't own the characters and the show. I hope you will enjoy reading "Fight for Peace".

Quintessence of Life

Part 3

Fight for Peace

Prologue

The air was fresh, pure and cool; the sky was dark, and the bleak sun was slowly rising in the east. Sir Robin Fitzooth of Locksley, the Earl of Huntingdon and Count de Bordeaux, stood near the window, looking outside, into the harbor of Calais. He watched the howling storm rage over the sea, the stones of the pier shaken by the violence of waves. The weather was wretched and wet, and every vessel was anchored in the harbor as sailors waited for storms to abate before trying to cross the English Channel.

Sir William de Longchamp had left Robin and his friends the next day after their arrival in Calais. Robin's plans to sail to Dover the next morning had been ruined by the weather. Robin and his friends – Sir Robert de Beaumont, the Earl of Leicester, and Sir Carter of Stretton, Baron Clifton – were the most anxious men among the travelers; Archer, Will, Djaq, and Tuck were able to wait patiently.

Robin let out a sigh of frustration and despair. Today he didn't go to the harbor with his friends and his newly found half-brother, staying in his room at the inn and trying to have some rest at the insistence of his friends. He waited for Robert, Archer, and Carter to return, and he was very restless; he often paced the room back and forth, or he could stand near the window, looking at the leaden sky, praying to God for a break in the weather.

"Are you again watching the storm?" a familiar voice spoke in English with a slight Eastern accent.

Robin turned around and locked his gaze with Djaq's. A large smile blossomed on his face, and Djaq smiled back at him. He stalked towards the young Saracen woman and scooped her into his arms, pulling her into an affectionate embrace. He was happy that Djaq had accompanied them on their voyage back to England not only because she was a physician and he often needed her help, but also because he loved her and wanted her back in England.

Robin drew back and stared at Djaq. "I am glad to see you, Djaq." He took a step back.

Djaq smiled at him. "Is that really better to see me than watching the storm?"

Robin's eyes sparkled with the old, familiar mischievous twinkle. "Yeah, you know that I am a ladies man. I like women more than storms."

Djaq laughed. She was very fond of Robin's dryly humorous nature right from the start of her life in Sherwood, and now she was also relieved to see a glimpse of the old Robin with his shining eyes and his cheeky smile. She was concerned about Robin since his awakening in Jerusalem. As a qualified physician, she knew very well how profound an impact of death could be on a patient, and she watched him with an attentive, keen eye every day, trying to understand what was happening in his head.

"It is good to see you in a better mood."

A smile was gone from his face, and his expression evolved into one of sarcasm. "Well, sometimes you cannot pretend that you are in a good mood."

She put a comforting hand on his shoulder. "I know you are perplexed."

"Yes. I am very worried about King Richard."

"I think even worse than worried, Robin."

Robin was locked in a silent battle with his chilling emotions throughout many days since he had heard about the king's disappearance, and his heart turned leaden at the thought of Richard's possible death. He didn't want to lose Richard – his king, confidant, friend, and half-brother after surviving his seemingly mortal wound. He loved Richard too much to lose him so soon after he had learned the truth about their relationship. He was ready to do everything to save the king and England.

There was a tremulous wail of mournful fear in Robin's heart. He feared that King Richard was in grave danger and that Prince John would do something bad to Marian. He had to save Richard again. He had to save Marian from the clutches of Prince John and the Earl of Buckingham. He also wanted to know what had happened to Guy when the fool had tried to kill the sheriff and had been captured by Prince John's men. He tried to push a throbbing ache deeper inside himself, but without success.

"Yes," he confessed.

"I understand."

"The waiting time is like an eternity," Robin complained.

"And your anxiety is increasing with every day passing," Djaq voiced her observations.

"Yes." His voice was barely audible.

Djaq gave him a long, ever-penetrating glance; then she sighed heavily. "But you are worried not only about the king," she said cautiously.

"You understand me much better than others."

"You are a difficult man to understand, Robin."

"Yes, I am," Robin agreed, a tiny smile quivering in the corners of his lips.

"It is about Marian, isn't it?"

"Of course." He glanced away, his eyes focused on the vast expanse of the raging sea. "She is held captive in the Tower of London. They are going to coerce her into a marriage with Buckingham."

Djaq knew that Robin was also torn between two women – Marian and his wife. "Have you understood whom you love more?" she asked directly.

Robin turned his gaze at Djaq. "I can hide nothing from you, Djaq." He was quiet for a moment. "I love each of them differently," he confessed with something like regret in his voice, bowing his head as if he were unable to look at the woman who could read his thoughts so well.

"Robin, you cannot allow yourself to be so confused! It won't make you and your wife happy!"

He knew that she was right. Marian's confusion with her feelings had brought much pain into Guy's life and his life as well, and he didn't want to cause more pain to Melisende and himself. "And how can I do that, Djaq? I cannot prohibit myself from feeling just because I want it to stop!"

Djaq stared into his eyes. "You have to ask yourself one simple question," she continued, stressing every word she spoke, as if she were guiding him from his confusion to the truth that shone with an unearthly glow in the darkness. "Ask yourself whom you need more – Marian or Melisende." At the sight of confusion on his face, she decided to elaborate. "You have to ask yourself what gives you peace – your love for your wife or your lingering affection for Marian."

"My love for Melisende," he answered unhesitatingly.

"Love cannot always bring pain. Love cannot always result in a war with your partner," Djaq speculated. "You have sweet memories of the happy and carefree days of your youth, and you may love Marian as a part of these days, but now you have a family."

Robin smiled brightly, his eyes sparkling. "I do love my wife and my son." Then his smile faded away. "And it would have been a great loss to me… if something happened to one of them."

"Then you should love what you have at the moment, Robin."

"Not looking back, right?"

"That's what I mean. Sometimes it is better to run away from your problems, and this is one of the few cases when you have to do that, Robin."

Robin sighed. "I told my wife that I love her when we were in Bordeaux."

"And it is true. Everything else – the past – is not important." She could see the painful glitter in his eyes, knowing how difficult it was to show his naked soul to her, but she was glad that he did that. "And then it will be as God wills it," she concluded.

Robin looked thoughtful, his gaze distant. "I was very happy, very fortunate, very arrogant, very impulsive, very righteous, and very proud," he said in a low voice vibrating in his chest. "Too fortunate. Too arrogant. Too righteous. Too hot-headed. Too happy for a little while. Most importantly, too full of illusions." He gave a heavy sigh. "And now I am lost and confused."

Djaq turned her gaze at Robin, her eyes penetrating too far into his thoughts. "Death often has such a strange effect on those who cheat it – you begin to see the world in a different light."

Robin nodded at her, and she nodded back, a sign that she had understood him. Indeed, Djaq knew what was happening to him – he struggled to find his true path in the world after his resurrection. Djaq could also see that Robin wasn't entirely ready yet to face reality and struggle with the demons that had driven him to the very brink of sanity. He was overwhelmed by conflicted, intimidating emotions lately, which hurt somewhere deep inside of him and clouded his perception of reality.

Robin had undergone a cycle of nature – he had died and then had come back from the dead. He was somewhere between the past and the present, and his future seemed misty and bleak. Robin longed to again experience a sensation of perfect bliss, which he had felt by during his dying moments when he hadn't wanted to come back to earth, not wishing to take an invisible hand that had been extended to him in order to direct him on the route back to life. He was glad that he had survived, but his burning desire to again feel the same bliss terrified him out of his wits.

He was constantly haunted by nightmares, by visions of doom and death. Flashes of the tragic scene when he had lain on the crimson-soaked sand in Imuiz sent a chill of dread through him. In such moments, squeezing his eyes shut, Robin forced his mind to go blank, and he felt as if a black hole were opening up inside him every time he thought back to the events in Imuiz. At least dreams of normal, peaceful life became more frequent, not like during the first days after his awakening when he had almost expected that he would die by sunset.

Robin had come to terms with reality, accepting that the past was gone forever and that he had a new life ahead, but it was not easy at all. The world was whirling, changing its colors from black to white. Robin's mood changed as rapidly as time moved forward. He could be frightened and in a moment elated, scared and then excited, hoping desperately that the peculiar limbo, where he was living in, would finally end.

Robin sighed audibly. "My world has changed too much, and so have I."

"You don't have dreams and illusions left, do you?" Djaq knew the truth, but she wanted confirmation.

Robin swung around and walked away from the window. He seated himself into an armchair near the hearth. By the glowing firelight, he looked excessively pale as he leaned back in his seat. In spite of having spent several months in Jerusalem, Robin hadn't tanned even a little, for he had been sheltered from the sun by the roof of the palace where he had spent all the time recovering from his wound.

Staring into the emptiness of the room, Robin spoke. "At times, you have to take part in a bloody war, spill a lot of blood, lose some of your friends, save the king, lose a woman you loved, and finally give your own life for the cause – only to understand that it was all for nothing because your fight has always been ultimately futile." He trailed off, lowering his head, his chin on his chest. "You make war for peace and justice, and you fight so desperately that you put on the line not only your own life, but also lives of those whom you love. In the end, you lose your life, and death makes you disenchanted."

Djaq came to Robin and seated herself in the armchair next to his. "Nothing happens without a reason – no fight, no war, no bloodshed, no loss, and so salvation," she spoke rhetorically, looking at him. "I don't know God's will, and I have no idea what mission for each of his children he chose, but I know that everything has a reason and a consequence."

Robin turned his gaze at her. "And what are the reasons for my fight?"

She gave him a small smile. "Robin, it is not exactly right that you have achieved absolutely nothing in this war," she said softly. "The reasons for your fight are noble – peace and justice. There can never be absolute peace and justice, but your fight, nevertheless, makes a great difference and gives people hope for the better future and life."

"You think it makes my fight worthy?"

"Yes, I do think so. Giving hope and making a difference are your achievements." She paused, letting him have more time to understand her words. "Often hope is the only thing that helps people survive and fight for the greater good," she added, her voice stressing every word.

There was a pang of sadness at his heart as he recalled deaths of some friends and his own death. "I have already lost too much in this fight. We don't know our future, and here can be even more losses."

"There are always losses in any fight, all the more in a fight for something that you want to have but cannot have in real life," she commented, her expression contemplative. "It was your choice to begin this fight, and it has a good purpose even if you cannot change the whole world. Yet, you can try to have something you want in a different way."

An eloquent pause followed as Robin was pondering over the situation. "Maybe you are right," he said at last. His voice sounded almost cheerful, and he smiled faintly. "I can have peace in my own lands – in Huntingdon and in Locksley – after the king's return, and my people will prosper then."

There was a mirthful chuckle from Djaq. "So you see that Robin Hood's cause is not completely futile."

"It seems so."

"Are you feeling better now?"

"Yes, I am," he replied. "Thank you, Djaq."

She smiled widely. "Welcome, Robin."

Robin stood up and came to the window. "Where are they? They should have already returned!"

Djaq emitted a heavy sigh. "Robin, you have been full of anxiety and alarm since we learned about the king's disappearance. But it cannot continue this way."

"I am fine," he said, not looking at her. His eyes took in the dark sky that foretold a new storm.

"Robin," she called softly.

He turned to face her, his expression blank but his eyes dark with anxiety. "What?"

"How will you save the king if you cannot control your own life?"

For a fleeting instant, Djaq could see a glimpse of vulnerability on her friend's face, but then Robin collected himself and his expression recovered neutrality. "Perhaps I am being selfish now, but I tell you frankly: it seems that only Robert, Carter, and I are worried about the king. I know that all of you will fight by my side, but I am not sure that each of us is ready to risk their lives to get Richard out of trouble. The king needs us now more than he ever needed us before!" He sighed and paused for a while. "The only thing I want is to have the king at home and live in peace with my family."

"I am aware what you want, and we all want peace." She trailed off, frowning thoughtfully. "But you have to understand that not everyone wants to die for the absentee king who cares more about foreign wars than about his people," she added, anticipating to see Robin angry.

But Djaq was mistaken: Robin didn't throw an angry barb at her, and his response was a plaintive smile on his face. The illusion that the king was God incarnate on earth was gone, and Robin could see Richard in true colors, but he was tied to the man by blood and it meant everything to him. "I know that Richard is not an ideal king, but the alternative – Prince John – is even worse," he said quietly. "Maybe the king is not worthy of your, Will's, Archer's, or Tuck's loyalty, but I personally will do everything to find and save him even if I have to give my life for him again."

"Robin, you have a personal reason to be so loyal to the king."

"Yes, I do have it."

"But to save the king, you have to think of yourself because even though your wound has almost healed, your health is still very fragile and can worsen in English cold climate. Your conflicting emotions and your inability to take a hold of them will only aggravate the situation: the more nervous and anxious you will be, the worse you will feel and the sooner you will find yourself again bedridden."

"You are right," he acknowledged, albeit reluctantly. Indeed, he was not in the best shape: if he made a sharp movement, he still felt nagging pain deep inside in his stomach, and his heinous scar, which he hated with all his heart as a reminder of his death, often throbbed in pain.

"You have to take your emotions over control," Djaq said meaningfully, her voice soft and persuasive. "If you don't do that, you will be unable to lead and fight."

"I will try," he promised, but there was no confidence in his voice.

They heard voices in the corridor, and then the door opened as Robin's friends entered, returning from the harbor. Robin and Djaq rose to their feet automatically, and Robin rushed to Robert de Beaumont. But there was no good news: the wind slackened somewhat, but the fog still shrouded the shore, so it was impossible to sail. They had to wait, and the tension of waiting was becoming unbearable.

§§§

Sir Guy Fitzcorbet of Gisborne and Lady Megan Bennet of Attenborough spent an indefinite amount of time imprisoned in the underground dungeons under the Castle of Nottingham – the underground hell as Vaisey had called the prison and the tunnel system which he had created to have the secret route for possible escape and the place to hide his treasures from Robin Hood and his gang. Time was passing in a monotonous routine, and only Megan and Guy's rare conversations distracted them from the harrowing reality of impending death.

Guy knew that he had deserved his misery. But Megan had become a prisoner because she had learned Prince John's secret about King Richard's capture in Austria, and she had to survive to pass this information to the king's loyal men. She was young and innocent, loyal to King Richard, Queen Eleanor of Aquitaine, and England, and she deserved to have a long, happy life instead of dying in the dungeons or on the gallows. But it seemed that there was nothing Guy could do to save her.

Three weeks ago, Guy had been again put to the rack: the Baron of Rotherham had flogged him brutally, but it hadn't been as bad as the first flogging immediately after his capture. The guards had taken the beaten and unconscious Guy to his cell from the torture room, and Isabella had asked Doctor Blight to come and tend to his wounds. As Guy had been more dead than alive, he had needed constant care, and Megan had been allowed to live in Guy's cell. Guy had been feverish and unconscious for two weeks while Megan had been doing everything to ease his sufferings and save his life.

When Guy had regained his consciousness, he had been as weak as a newborn child not destined to live long in the world, and Megan had always been by his side. Isabella had been so shocked to see Guy utterly broken that she had allowed Megan to be near Guy without protesting and expressing her displeasure. Guy had been in sheer hell, feverish and possibly dying, and Megan had become his only saving grace in the darkness, his angel of salvation.

After his fever had broken, Megan had been no longer permitted to spend time in Guy's cell. Guy's recovery had been a long one, but he had never complained of having constant pain in his back. Now Guy felt much better than weeks ago as some of his physical strength had already returned and he had begun to recuperate, though he was still weak. But as soon as he could stand and walk, he swore that he would make an attempt to break out of the dungeons together with Meg.

Guy lifted himself into a sitting position on his straw mattress, and then rose to his feet. He walked towards the grating that separated his cell from Megan's. "Meg, are you awake?"

"Guy, if I didn't talk to you in the past hour, it doesn't mean that I am sleeping," Megan answered in a steady, loud voice. "Do you already miss my company, my dark knight?"

"It is not a time for jokes, Meg," he grumbled, irritated.

Megan laughed at him. "You can brood in silence, listen to the sound of water dropping from the ceiling, or enjoy my witty humor," she said teasingly. "What is better, Guy?"

He smirked. "Your constant talk entertains me."

She laughed merrily, and then climbed to her feet; she walked towards the grating where Guy stood, looking at her. She stared at him, her eyes large and expressive. She thought that Guy looked even paler than she had ever seen him before in the bleak rays of the cold sun that penetrated the dungeons through the only window at the level of the ceiling, also the surface level.

Guy stared back at Megan, almost breathless, thinking of how beautiful, honest, and yet enigmatic her face was. Megan was like the sunlight in the darkness that surrounded them from all sides, and the world of misery suddenly seemed to be full of the most spirit-stirring, intoxicating tunes. She was such a natural beauty in the way that one could feel there was no manipulation of light or pose which could wipe the delicate shade of honesty and innocence from her features.

Megan chuckled. "My talk is not senseless, Guy," she said. "I would have never involved an intelligent man like you into idle talk. That's why I am always telling you about the court of love, the politics in the Angevin Empire, and the latest fashions at various royal courts." She paused, as if remembering something. "Ah, it slipped from my mind! I also spend much time talking to you about your sins, about what is good and what is bad." She winked at him. "So I am even trying to annoy you with any kind of nonsense."

For a brief moment, Guy forgot about everything else, and his mood really improved. "You are a good companion, and you know that. But you want my praise, right?"

She shrugged elegantly. "I don't think that I deserve your praise, even if I am willing to learn more about your crimes and your desire for redemption." She playfully pointed a finger at him. "And my talk is not like a talk of babblers and gossipers which is usually incomprehensible because they talk too much and too quickly."

Guy broke into laughter. "Is it Queen Eleanor's school of wit?"

"You either have wit, or you don't."

Suddenly, his expression turned serious. "Meg, you must be prepared."

"Why?"

"Soon the guards will come to the cell, and I will have to do something to get us out."

"Guy, are you really able to fight with them?" she asked with concern.

"I am not as physically strong as I used to be, but I have to do something to save us."

Megan nodded in understanding. "What should I do?"

"I will overpower the guards. I will tell you what to do once I am done with them," he replied hastily.

"Be careful," she requested. Then she returned to her straw mattress.

Guy and Megan lapsed into silence. Tapping lightly on the wall, Gisborne waited, his ears strained to hear the footsteps in the corridor. Guy's heart pounded as he heard two guards approach him, praying that his simple plan would work.

He positioned himself sideways on the floor, disgusted with the feeling of rotten straw beneath his body. He was pretending that he had fallen senseless from exhaustion, sleep, fear, or illness, hoping that he would outsmart the guards. He only needed to appear unable to respond, talk, or stand. Guy held his breath as the heavy iron door opened, and a beam of light from the torches shone into his barely closed eyes. Two guards strode forward, looking at Guy with curious eyes.

"Gisborne has passed out again, and today he hasn't even been again tortured yet," the first guard complained, and there was a nasty laugh in his voice. He leaned over to grab one of Guy's arms. "Come and help me to take him from here," he told the other man.

The second man grumbled and complied. The guards broke into a taunting laughter as they grabbed Guy's shoulders. Guy forced himself to remain motionless in their grasp as they pulled him up and started dragging him to a straw mattress.

"This bastard Gisborne is heavy," the second man lamented.

The first guard smirked. "He used to be our master once, but now he is nothing."

The second man sneered. "He deserves to die in his cell and be eaten by worms."

They were once Guy's own men! Guy wanted to scream that they were traitors and ungrateful brats after serving him for several years and finally turning their backs on him. He felt betrayed and was seething in anger, but he forced himself to stay quiet, swallowing his humiliation. He knew that there would be little time for him to attack the guards, resist their counterattack, win, and then run away before their escape could be prevented. He had to succeed for Meg and for himself.

One of the guards grunted, pausing to catch his breath. Then the two men lifted Guy and threw him on the mattress, and it was time for Guy to act. Feeling a soundless burst of energy, Guy shot to his feet, taking the two guards so by surprise that one of them fell back, hitting his head against the wall and giving a howl of pain. The man was ambushed and lost his consciousness.

As the second guard was about to call for help, Guy turned to face him and grabbed him by his throat, squeezing it tightly. The man's eyes bulged in fear, but Guy had no intention of killing him, even though the wretched traitor deserved death. Guy slammed his fist into the guard's temple, and the man slumped over like a dead man, though he was merely senseless.

Guy looked down at the two guards and spat at them, cursing the day when he had taken them into Vaisey's service. Then he crunched and found the keys. He unlocked his shackles and threw them away. Rubbing his wrists once he was free of the ties, he breathed a sigh of relief; then he found the keys from Megan's cell, feeling his heart beating faster in euphoria.

"Meg," Guy called. "It is done."

"Did you find the keys?" Megan asked in a hoarse voice as she jumped to her feet.

"Yes, I did." Guy looked at the door to his cell. It was still open – it was his chance to get freedom back and he intended to use it. "Can you fight?"

Her heart pounded harder in delight at the thought that they would probably be free soon. "My father trained me to fight with many weapons. He wanted me to be able to take care of myself when he was not with me."

Guy chuckled. "Yeah, a lady from the court of love can fight!"

Megan huffed in annoyance. "Should I be doing my embroidery instead of fighting, Guy?"

"Cool off your head and be ready."

Guy ran towards the exit. As he moved, the pain from still-throbbing injuries on his back shot through him, and he steeled himself against all sensations. He looked into the corridor, peering into the semi-darkness and preparing to leave. But God was not on Guy's side on that day: Blamire appeared on the opposite side of the corridor, assessing the situation, his dark eyes focused on Guy.

The dark-skinned man reacted immediately and rushed to Guy. He slammed his fist into Guy's jaw, simultaneously giving a cry of alarm. "Guards! Guards!" he shouted. "The prisoner is escaping!"

"Damn you to hell, Blamire," Guy said between clenched teeth.

"Oh my Lord," Megan whispered to herself. She took a step back and stopped near the stone wall, feeling her heart beating wildly in her thorax. They failed to find the way out of the dungeons, and now Guy was going to pay for their endeavors.

Blamire punched Guy in the face again and hit him in the stomach. Blamire's blows were so hard that Guy suddenly felt dazed and his vision became blurred. Guy tried to fight with the other man, but exhaustion caught up with him; moreover, in a physical fight, he was no match to Blamire in his weakened state. Soon Guy found himself shackled again, and then Blamire hustled him forward, pushing him towards a straw mattress.

Guy fell on his back and spewed a sequence of violent curses as the heavy door was shut and Blamire disappeared in the corridor. Defeated and deprived of a chance to flee, Guy had to fight hard against the urge to vomit. In misery more abject than any he had ever imagined, he felt panic sweep through him as he heard Blamire's screams and then Isabella's metallic voice.

The door flung open and Blamire appeared at the doorway. Already several torches and lanterns had been lit, and the stone wall glowed like a brazier. Then Isabella of Gisborne came forward, holding a torch in her hand and surveying the picture before her eyes.

Isabella eyed Guy; then her gaze stopped at the two unconscious guards. "Blamire, what is going on?"

"Lady Isabella, Gisborne tried to escape. I caught and detained him," Blamire explained.

Isabella turned her gaze at Guy. "How could it happen?"

"Gisborne knocked out the guards. It seems that he had the plan to escape," Blamire said.

"Guy, do you imagine that you are Robin Hood?" Isabella questioned scornfully, smiling wryly.

"I am not Robin Hood," Guy answered coldly, not looking at Isabella. His eyes were tightly shut.

She laughed contemptuously. "And you will never be like Hood who could escape from any trap Vaisey set for him." She strode forward and took a seat on the only chair in the cell, next to her brother's mattress. "Lord Vaisey was right that you are an incompetent and blithering idiot."

Isabella ordered to remove the bodies of two guards from the cell. Several guards came and dragged the unconscious men to the door, casting curious glances at Guy and Isabella. The guards who worked at the castle were surprised to discover the hostile nature of Guy's relationship with his own sister. They didn't understand why Isabella hated her brother so much that she didn't even care about the brutal torture inflicted on Guy twice by Blamire and the Baron of Rotherham.

"Guy, I am giving you a final warning," Isabella spoke seriously. "If you again try to escape, I will order to use a new torture device on you." Then she turned around and motioned Blamire to leave.

A long, oppressive silence hung over the dungeons. Neither Megan nor Guy talked for a long time.

When that silence finally became too excruciating, Megan spoke. "I guess we can make another attempt."

Guy pulled himself into a sitting position. "I told you before that there is no way out of here, Meg," he said, speaking with great precision and considerable bitterness. "But I should have known in advance that we would be unable to escape at least because Blamire seems to be always around."

"At least we tried," she said with a sigh.

"But we failed." Guy tossed his head contemptuously at the surrounding misery. He was happy that Megan couldn't see his eyes that were embracing, condemning, loathing all the universe and himself most of all at that moment. "I am sorry that I failed to save you."

Megan felt her heart skip a beat. Guy's voice sounded so miserable and was so full of regret that his apology almost took her breath away for a moment. "It is not your fault, Guy."

Guy laughed. "I did too many bad things in my life, and there were many moments when I wanted to die to be free." He sighed tiredly. "I wanted to die so much in these dungeons before you appeared here." He laughed again, this time mournfully. "It is funny that now I want to live to save you, but I can do nothing. Now I can only mourn for my soul."

"Are you mourning the loss of many chances to become a better man?"

"Yes, I am. You are shrewd, Meg."

"Then you are a fool, Guy," Megan said coolly, without a trace of sympathy. "It is impossible that everything is lost – something always remains."

"And what do I have now?" He laughed bitterly. "Only misery!"

"Resignation and acceptance," she replied. "You accepted your faults and realized your mistakes. If you did try to change yourself but had not enough time to succeed, then your life is not misspent."

"You think so?" he asked, astonished.

"Yes," Megan assured him. "Now you can die in peace because you have changed and because you have kept your honor," she supplied with conviction. "Once Queen Eleanor said that grief is not very different from illness: in the impetus of its fire it doesn't recognize lords, it doesn't fear colleagues, it doesn't respect or spare anyone, not even itself." She raised her voice. "Guy, do you see how much being aggrieved is similar to wallowing in self-pity?"

"Yes, I do see that," Guy said.

"Then brace yourself and stop pitying yourself."

Guy shut eyes and took a deep breath. "At least I can die in peace."

Megan and Guy didn't talk anymore during that evening, each of them brooding over life and death, choices they had made and what they had lost in the process. It seemed that nothing could save them.

It was the prologue to the third part of my long epic. I hope you liked it.

As promised, Robin's character arc became the change arc as the hero lost his illusions and dreams after his death in Imuiz. Djaq's conversation with Robin gives you an insight how much Robin changed. Disillusionment and confusion are normal consequences of death and near-death experiences.

Guy and Meg are imprisoned in the underground dungeons. I am sorry that Guy was tortured and suffered, but he didn't die and Meg took care of him. Guy's redemption started when he turned against Vaisey, and Guy is quite a different man now. He wants to live to change his life, and unselfishly wants to save Meg from death. Will he and Meg survive, or are they doomed to die?

This is really Eleanor of Aquitaine's quote: "Grief is not very different from illness: in the impetus of its fire it doesn't recognize lords, it doesn't fear colleagues, it doesn't respect or spare anyone, not even itself."It is taken from Eleanor's first letter to Pope Celestine (written in 1193).

Everything is only beginning. There are many shocking and original twists in this story. To know more, you will have to reading this epic. I will start posting the chapters after part 2 "Mysteries Unveiled" is finished. I hope your journey into the world of Robin Hood and his friends with this long story/novel will be pleasant and interesting.

Reviews are always appreciated. Thank you for reading the prologue.

Yours faithfully, Penelope Clemence