Prologue

"Hurry up Richard!" she called behind her, and watched her brother stumble on a hill. She looked ahead, Robin was beating them. "Come on!" she pushed on, but in her haste she did not see the root. She fell to the ground, her gown splattered with mud, one of her ringlets hanging loose, like an untied string. Looking down at her palm, she noticed for the first time the thorn embedded deep in the skin. Her lip quivered slightly, but she refused to cry, the boys never cried so why should she? She clambered onto her feet, trying to push through the bushes, picking up a stick and hacking at them until finally, they parted. Richard was behind her, so they moved on together, hand in hand, her hiding her wounded one in the pocket of her skirts.

They reached where Robin was sitting, on a verge, looking down over the valley. He was panting and as they dropped down beside him, so were they. He looked over at Adeline, and noticed her hidden hand. Drawing it out, he examined it cautiously.

"It'll have to come out, Adie," he commented, and she nodded.
"Do it then," she bit down on her lip, readying herself. But even when he did remove it, it still shocked her and she screamed, loud and long. A cluster of tears ran down her cheeks.

"Why did you hurt her, Robin?!" Richard exclaimed, pulling her hand into his own.
Adeline's eyes did not leave Robin's face as she spoke. "Because he had to," she said calmly.

---

"Lady! Lady!" the maid shook her awake "Lady Adeline, we have arrived."
Adeline pushed her hand into her hair, opening sleepy eyes to gaze out of the window. She was finally home. No more vast endless desert, no more heat, no more… She clambered down from the carriage, grabbing handfuls of her gown so she could run freely to the door.

"Father," she cried, embracing him tightly. From behind him emerged her younger sister, Phillippa.

"Philly," Adeline pulled her close, squeezing her slightly "How you have grown!" she exclaimed, laughing as they retreated into the house.

---

"And how is your brother?" Adeline had anticipated this subject, as had Richard, so they had already discussed her reply.

"He's very well. He would have come home with me, but for that him staying keeps the men's morale up and that is something we cannot afford to lose," she nibbled a slice of bread.
"I am so glad to hear that he is well," her Father responded, sipping his wine "Your Mother would be so proud."
"I know," she leant over to pat his arm "Well, I'm exhausted from all of my travelling, I think I will retire." She had just reached the foot of the stairs when she spun around to regard them. "Whatever happened to Robin?"
"Robin?" her Father's face was a mask of reluctance, disapproval and worry.
"Yes, Robin of Locksley, surely Father, you have not forgotten him," she smiled, in jest "Why has he not visited? He must have been informed of my return."
"Yes…" her Father trailed off "Adeline, there's something I must tell you."
"He's not dead is he?" she enquired, her face concerned.
"No, no, nothing of that sort," he grimaced "He's been made an outlaw."
"Made an outlaw!" she exclaimed "This is an outrage! He is the Earl of Huntingdon and King Richard's personal friend, he cannot be an outlaw!"
"The Sheriff has decreed it," her Father responded solemnly "And his word is law now."
"Is it indeed," she had managed to reign in her anger and she spoke calmly "I must rest."
"Adeline," she glanced back at him over her shoulder "Don't do anything… rash."
She smiled cheekily "Would I?" and carried on up the stairs.