The night sky was lit up by torches from within the great city. All over the camp, men retreated to tents, tired and depressed by from the day's failed attacks. The moans and agonised shrieks of the wounded stood out against the music and laughter from the rest of the camp. Gradually the noise level declined, and a shadow of silence enclosed the camp.

I stared into the flames. As the light flickered, images of the past flitted in and out of my mind, sharp fragments of memories long forgotten. Memories of my descent into a strange world of deceit, persecution, poverty and death. I let my thoughts dwell on them for a few seconds, then shook my head and stood up. My faithful companions made as if to follow, but I waved them off and the slumped back down by the flames. I strode towards the edge of the vast camp, until I was alone, with only my mind for company. The sea of sand was endless, swallowing up everything in sight. I threw back my head and stared at the sky. Millions of bright, silvery stars were clearly visible in the ink-black skies of Syria. Anger swelled in my chest under the gaze of the everlasting lamps. Suddenly my mind awoke and sent forth images both unwanted and unlooked for. I barely recognised the harsh cry that was torn from my own lips. I was powerless to stop my knew from buckling, my mind from submitting. All these years I had bottled everything away, never stopping to think about the past. No longer would the door to my mind be locked by itself. Memories awoke and invaded, summoned by that desperate, resigned cry. Images flashed, almost blinding me, all intertwined with each other; I could make no sense of them.

"Faster. Faster, boy! You'll never make it with a draw that slow!"

"Come on! Ach, lad, you're a disgrace to your father's name."

Heavy leather boots slipped and sunk in the mud.

"Harder! Hit it! HIT IT!"

I complied.

"Fight! As if your life depended on it!"

I feinted left and brought my sword up to parry.

"Strike!"

"He's a Saracen, boy!"
"Thrust down, just like that."

"A dirty, filthy Saracen!"

"Good, lad! Now faster."

"Worth no more than the mud on your boots!"

"LOCKSLEY!" The ice-cold water hit me like a destrier at full tilt. I spluttered and thrashed, my damaged brain not registering where I was and whose voice had called. "Easy now, lad." I stopped abruptly and looked up into the face of Matthew, one of the King's bodyguards. Much was in the background, frantic with worry. Poor man. I couldn't help but laugh. And it came out in such an unexpected manner that everyone around me froze and stared at the possessed youth lying on the ground and laughing like a maniac. Matthew shook his old head sadly.

"The Devil's gotten you tonight, Robin. Best if you go and sleep it off. See how you feel in the morning." I nodded, still gasping for breath, and rolled to my feet. I staggered as I did so and golden grains of sand poured like solid water from every hole in my clothes. Much rushed forward and caught my arm. "Honestly master, I don't know what's gotten into you. One minute you're as quiet as a mute, the next you're laughing like a madman. Whatever am I to do with you?" he guided me back towards our tent, talking animatedly as usual, though for once I wasn't listening. No. My mind had recovered the random attack and my mind was once again transforming into a private map. I busied myself in inventing new schemes to outwit the Saracens and to make sure my men were fully trained, armoured and ready for anything. All manner of exercises and srategies were designed in the fifteen minutes it took to reach our tent. I came back to the living, only to find Much still talking.

"Of course, there are a few things I've been missing over the last few weeks. A bath being one of them. A nice, long, hot soak. Or cold, in the daytime. Either way, it doesn't matter. And food. We could do with more food." His voice faded into the background as I changed into a nightshift and sank into my soft blankets. The King would wish to speak with me tomorrow. He would be worried, and would inquire after my health. No doubt Matthew will have told him about the strange condition he had found me in. God Richard. Yes. He'll summon me first thing tomorrow. It had taken until now for my brain to register the exhausted condition of my body; both internally and externally. I closed my eyes, and wished for everything to go, for every little noise to disappear, until I could find comfort within myself once again. More memories came, but not in the frenzied rush that they had before. No. These were nice memories, that soon transformed into pleasant dreams. These colours were softer, and yet more vibrant, the pictures no less detailed or vivid, but they were welcome, for the scenes they displayed were beautiful ones, one that I will forever cherish. And in every image one detail was the same, exactly the same: My love. My saviour. Tonight, I dream of her. As I did last night, as I will tomorrow.

In my peaceful sleep, I smile a peaceful smile.

"Marian."

Well, there we go! My first ever Robin Hood fic ! Reviews are more than welcome, hint hint :) *winks and crosses fingers*, just as long as any criticism is constructive and not pointless. Bear in mind that I am only 15 years old, so don't expect the very best! Thanks to anyone who actually bothers reading this far! And remember: Reviews=More fics to read!!!