(I don't own the TV characters. I do own all the others---even the bad ones. No profit, just entertainment.)

MEMORIES

by White Wolf

Chapter One

The narrow road wound around, at times almost crossing over itself. Hardly anyone used it now for that reason. No travelers wanted to spend any more time in Sherwood than was absolutely necessary. They wanted to get through the forest as quickly as they could. It wasn't only the rich who were subject to robbery. Even the poorest traveler could be accosted by ruthless bandits.

This day, Robin was walking down that road at a leisurely pace. He was alone, admiring the new spring foliage and the constant melody of birdsong. He smiled to himself. There was no green quite as intense as Sherwood this time of year. It was a glorious day to be alive.

Robin was looking up into the trees on his left, when he rounded a bend in the road. There in front of him stood three men. He stopped, and immediately three more jumped from the trees behind him. He was surrounded. All of them had their swords drawn. Robin reached for Albion and prepared to defend himself.

The man that looked to be the leader was a particularly dirty, disgusting individual with a large scar running from his right eye down to his chin. It gave him an air of fierceness. He took an instant hatred of Robin, because he could tell that Robin was everything he wasn't.

The man, Gordon, was short and stocky with a pockmarked face, crooked blackened teeth and brown hair that was wispy thin on top. He also had cold black eyes. He glared at Robin who was tall, slender, with flawless skin, straight white teeth, thick shiny golden hair and intelligent blue eyes. Gordon was ugly and fast approaching middle age. Robin was handsome and young, and Gordon hated him for it. He also seemed to know Robin was good, which only added to his hatred.

Robin saw the loathing in Gordon's eyes but didn't know the reason for it beyond the fact he looked as though he despised everyone.

"You're going to die," Gordon snarled, the hatred in his black eyes seeming to intensify. To back up his words, he raised his sword and pointed it toward Robin's heart.

"I haven't any money," Robin replied calmly. He made no attempt to counter Gordon's move with his sword. He also made no attempt to antagonize this man with defiant words. He stood silently.

"Too bad for you. You'll die anyway." Gordon sneered, displaying his hideous teeth. It was evident several of them had rotted out, leaving unsightly, jagged gaps.

Robin was downwind of the men in front of him and when a breeze kicked up, their odor caused him to wrinkle his nose involuntarily in disgust. Living in the forest wasn't conducive to the best personal hygiene for anyone, but these men carried it to the extreme. He doubted any of them had been near a bath since childhood, if then.

Gordon, enraged by Robin's obvious distaste, suddenly lunged at him with his sword. Robin turned sideways, and the blade passed harmlessly in front of his chest. Robin swung Albion up, hitting Gordon's sword and pushing the blade upwards.

Following their leader, all the bandits began to attack at once. Robin fought valiantly for several minutes, cutting and slashing, holding them at bay. Robin received several minor cuts, but he moved too fast and was too accomplished a swordsman for these untrained bandits to get a good cut at him. He, in turn, delivered several cuts of his own, a few more than minor. But, no matter how good he was, the odds of six against one were just too great. He knew it was only a matter of time before they got the best of him. They knew it, too.

Soon one bandit was sitting on the ground, holding closed a large slash on his right thigh where Albion had bitten deep. He put a crude bandage on the wound with a torn piece of his dirty shirt. The others began to close in on Robin. He continued his fight, blade flashing. If he was going to die at the hands of these disgusting men, he would do it trying to take as many of them with him as he could.

Just then, one of the bandits called out, "Somebody's comin'."

For an instant Robin had the hope that it was his own men coming to his rescue, though that thought disappeared when he realized he wasn't overdue at camp, so they'd have no reason to be looking for him this soon. He fought on. At this point, even the Sheriff or Gisburne would be welcome.

Gordon realized he and his men wouldn't be able to get the best of this fair-haired swordsman before whoever was coming showed up. Having just had his sword deftly flipped from his hand, he picked up a rock while Robin's attention was focused on the two men directly in front of him, and with the added force of anger, slammed it down on the back of Robin's head, dropping him instantly.

Gordon had seen the beauty of Albion and had designs on taking it. But, Robin had fallen on top of the sword with only the sharp blade showing. Gordon could hear the sounds of an approaching horse, so there wasn't time to roll Robin over and pull it free. With reluctance, he retrieved his own sword and called his men to head back into the trees. The man with the wounded leg was the last one to disappear from sight, receiving no aid from his retreating companions.

A wagon, leaden with several pieces of furniture and a pile of blankets rounded the bend from the same direction Robin had been coming from. It was being pulled by a large, brown horse. The animal was old but strong and plodded along, having no trouble pulling the heavy wagon. On the front seat sat a man and a young girl. Both were dressed like typical villagers, though they were relatively well kempt.

The wagon was almost even with Robin, when the man, sitting on the left, saw the outlaw leader lying on the grass at the edge of the road. He pulled the horse to a stop and jumped down. "Stay there, Aggie." He didn't want the girl to see what he might find when he turned the body over.

"Be careful, Father," the little girl urged from her perch on the wagon seat.

The man, Jeffery, approached cautiously but soon saw that this man would not be a threat. Now, it was only left to determine if he was alive or not. He gently turned Robin over on his back. He put his hand on Robin's chest and found a steady heartbeat. It was obvious Robin was also breathing. Jeffery visibly relaxed. This young man was alive and in need of help.

"Aggie, come down and help me. We need to get him in the wagon."

The girl, no more than twelve years old, climbed down. Her father, being a strong farmer, lifted Robin with relative ease and carried him to the back of the wagon as Aggie managed to push a chair over a few inches and then roll one of the blankets out along one side of the wagon bed. Between the two of them, Robin was laid down and covered with another of the blankets from the pile. He was able to be stretched out full length, though slightly on his side with his back hard against the sideboard, because the fit was very tight. Aggie had to climb over the seat back, since there was no way to get to the back of the wagon and jump down.

Jeffery picked up Albion. He briefly noted the runes written on its blade before slipping it under one of the chairs. He then got back on the seat and started the horse moving forward again. This time, though, the horse was urged into what was, for him, a fast pace. Jeffery slowed him down a bit when he saw that Robin was being jostled too much. The curves in the road also weren't going to allow much speed.

Aggie turned and looked down at Robin's still form. "What do you think happened to him, Father?"

"Bandits, most likely, though he doesn't look like he would've had much money. I don't believe Robin Hood and his men would have done this to anybody. Of course, if it was Gordon and his cutthroats... They just like to kill. They must've left him for dead."

"I wonder who he is." Aggie stated with the curiosity of a child.

"We'll just have to wait and ask him when--if--he wakes up." Jeffery wasn't sure how badly Robin was hurt. His quick assessment hadn't shown more than a small amount of blood from several cuts, but there was nothing that would account for Robin being unconscious.

Five minutes later, five other men left the trees and spread out across the road. Jeffery didn't recognize them, but wasn't about to challenge them even though they didn't look as mean as Gordon and his gang. A person's intent couldn't always be determined by how they looked.

A giant of a man held up his hand. "We mean you no harm, friend."

A portly man in monk's clothing came forward. "We're looking for someone."

Jeffery didn't say anything. First, he was going to give them a chance to reveal who it was they were after.

"We're looking for a young man: tall, slender, with long golden hair and blue eyes. He wears a leather tunic with metal rings all over it," the big man said.

Jeffery fought the urge to glance back at Robin. He didn't let on that he was trying to decide what to do. These could have been the men who attacked his passenger, and now they might be hoping to make sure of their kill. He wasn't willing to risk the helpless man's life on an uncertainty. Time enough later to sort out who he is and why these men wanted him.

"I haven't seen anyone like that around here," Jeffery replied calmly. "Not too many come this way."

"Then, why did you?" a surly looking man with close-cropped hair asked in a less than friendly tone.

"If there aren't many travelers, there won't likely be many bandits, either. Was I wrong to come this way?" Jeffery asked boldly, his implication clear.

"No. We aren't here to rob you," the giant said. "You can go on your way."

Jeffery knew all the stories of Robin Hood, of course. By now almost everyone in England did. He remembered there was a large man they called Little John in the group. This could well be him. And, yes, there was a friar, too. Jeffery saw no one that looked as though he could be Robin Hood himself. He wasn't about to ask, though. They had told him to leave, and that's exactly what he intended on doing.

John and the others stepped back off the road. Jeffery started the horse moving and drove by them. Robin passed within three feet of John, but even at his height, he couldn't see into the bottom of the wagon. He never knew Robin was within his reach.

The outlaws looked at each other. John shrugged and headed down the road in the opposite direction. They weren't concerned about Robin. They had just decided to meet up with him so they could all go back to camp together. It was not yet time to start worrying. They weren't sure just when Robin would be coming this way, so they would continue and hope they would run into him soon.

"They didn't act mean, and they didn't try to rob us," Aggie remarked when they were well clear of the men on the road. She hadn't been frightened of these men the way she had been of Gordon and his gang the first time they had stopped her and her father. "Maybe, they're his friends," she said as she nodded back toward Robin.

"Maybe, but we don't know for sure. I think that may have been Robin Hood's men, but I can't be sure of that, either. If I'm wrong, I wouldn't want to give them the chance to hurt him more or kill him. If they're the ones who did this, they would surely kill us, too." Jeffery explained his thoughts to his brave daughter. She had never flinched or given any indication of fear, and he was proud of her. "You did good, Aggie."

The young girl smiled as the wagon continued down the twisting road.

* * * * * * * * * *

Jeffery, Aggie and their injured passenger left Sherwood far behind. It took several hours of travel before they reached their home on the outskirts of the village of Ashton. When they pulled up in front of the modest little cottage, Jeffery jumped down and went around to the back of the wagon.

"Aggie, help me unload this furniture. It'll be easier to get our friend here out."

Aggie was of normal size for a girl her age, yet as someone who worked along side her father on the farm, she was deceptively strong. With little trouble, she helped her father take four chairs, a table, a dresser, and a small cupboard out of the wagon and move them into the house. They pushed them in the corner near the fireplace, not taking the time to arrange them in any kind of order. Their top priority was to get the injured man into bed and properly see to his wounds.

Jeffery climbed into the back of the wagon and slid Robin down as far as he dared. Then, he got down and lifted him into his arms. Effortlessly, he carried him into the house. Aggie had already pulled the cover down on her father's bed. She knew Robin was too tall to fit into her own smaller bed.

After taking Robin's boots, belts and tunic off, Jeffery began a more comprehensive examination. His original assessment seemed to be holding. There were only minor wounds.

When Jeffery finished, he told Aggie to bring him a bowl of water and some clean cloths.

"What did you find, Father?"

"Pretty much what I suspected. He has a few small cuts and a few bruises. The unconsciousness is most likely caused by the bump I found on the back of his head. Head wounds can be tricky, but he should come to before long---I hope. There was no bleeding, probably because of his thick hair. It must have kept the skin from being cut."

Between them, Jeffery and Aggie cleaned the blood from the various cuts. Only one, on Robin's left forearm, needed to be bandaged. When they finished, Jeffery pulled the cover up around Robin's shoulders. He and his daughter were prepared to wait until their guest woke up.

An hour later, he did.

* * * * * * * * * *

Robin groaned and began the long journey to consciousness. The first thing he was aware of was the pain in his head. The second thing was the smell of stew that drifted toward him. He opened his eyes and waited while they focused. He looked up into the smiling face of Jeffery, who had gone over to the bed when he heard the groan.

"Glad to see your eyes open. I was beginning to get worried."

Robin frowned as he searched Jeffery's face. He didn't know this man. He didn't know where he was, a fact he confirmed when he surveyed the room he was in and the bed he was lying on.

Jeffery saw the unspoken questions. "My name is Jeffery, and you are in my home in Ashton."

Robin tried to sit up in the bed but a wave of dizziness hit him and forced him to stop and groan again.

"Let me help you," Jeffery offered. He helped Robin to sit up and then plumped the pillow against the headboard so Robin could lean back on it comfortably.

"Ashton?" Robin asked.

"You don't know it?"

"I've heard of it." Robin replied. "It's north of Derby, isn't it?"

Jeffery nodded. "What's your name?"

"I'm Robert of Huntingdon."

"Huntingdon? As in Huntingdon Castle?"

"Yes. The Earl is my father." There was no haughtiness in his voice. He was simply replying to the man's question.

Jeffery had a puzzled look on his face. What was the son of the Earl of Huntingdon doing in Sherwood Forest dressed the way he was? Jeffery was curious, but he didn't think it was something he should question this man about. It was none of his business. Instead he asked, "Do you remember what happened to you?"

Robin frowned. "I was attacked by bandits in a forest. I fought them the best I could, but there were six of them. That's all I remember. I don't recall why I was in that forest."

"You got a nasty bump on your head, so it's not surprising you don't remember too much. It'll probably come back to you after a while."

"You're awake!" Aggie said as she walked in the front door and saw Robin propped up in the bed talking with her father.

Jeffery held his hand out toward the little girl and put has arm around her shoulders when she reached his side. "This is my daughter, Aggie. She helped me bring you here."

Robin smiled at the pretty little girl. He held his hand out. Aggie, normally not shy, reached out somewhat timidly. Robin held it gently. "I'm very glad to meet you, Aggie. Thank you for your help. I owe both of you so much," he said, looking first at Aggie and then at Jeffery.

"This is Robert," Jeffery told the girl, not going into an explanation of who he was.

"I'm glad to meet you, Robert." Aggie, despite the poor circumstances of her upbringing, had been taught to be polite to her elders. "Do you feel better?"

"I have a bit of a headache," Robin answered, trying to minimize the extent of the throbbing, "but I'll be fine, again thanks to the two of you." He turned a dazzling smile on the little girl. Aggie felt her face flush with warmth and couldn't help blushing even more because of it.

"I've made some stew," the girl announced, quickly changing the subject. She wasn't used to feeling this self-conscious.

"I knew I smelled something wonderful when I first woke up."

"Aggie's quite the little cook. She learned from her mother, who could take the most meager fare and turn it into a feast. Aggie not only takes after her; she looks just like her, same honey-colored hair, same blue eyes, same turned up nose."

Aggie smiled and turned her head away in embarrassment. She remembered how beautiful her mother was.

"Where is your wife?" Robin asked.

"Katherine died two years ago of fever." Jeffery had a wistful look on his face as he spoke. It was clear to Robin that Jeffery had loved her very much and still felt her loss deeply.

Robin was older than Aggie when his mother died, but he remembered the pain of that loss. He still missed her. "I'm sorry."

Jeffery nodded in acknowledgment. He looked at Robin, "Let's eat some of that stew, Robert. You'll be pleasantly surprised." The love and pride in Jeffery's voice was unmistakable.

Aggie filled a bowl with the aromatic stew and took it to Robin, who, after a few bites, was more than surprised. He couldn't believe that this little girl had cooked a meal so good. "You did this by yourself?"

Aggie grinned and nodded.

"She sure did," Jeffery confirmed, again with pride. "It's a wonder I'm not as big as this house."

Robin had found someone who could cook stew good enough to rival Tuck's. He wanted to eat more of it than he was able to. His headache was making his stomach feel a bit queasy. Even so, he did manage to empty most of the bowl. "It's wonderful, Aggie."

Aggie found herself blushing again. She turned quickly and began to take the dirty bowls away to be cleaned.

Jeffery said, "You need to get some sleep. You'll likely feel a lot better in the morning."

"I hate to take your bed," Robin said, "Where will you sleep?"

"I'll make a pallet on the floor by the fire. I've done it before. It's really not uncomfortable."

Robin nodded. He was much more tired than he had realized. His head also was pounding and making him feel a bit dizzy. His remark about taking Jeffery's bed was more out of politeness than anything else. He didn't think he could've gotten up if he tried.

Jeffery helped him move down in the bed so he could lie flat. Robin said goodnight, pulled the covers up around his neck, closed his eyes and fell asleep immediately.

* * * * * * * * * *

"Where could he be?" Will asked for the tenth time in less than half an hour.

John looked hard at his friend. "I don't know the answer any more now than I did the first time you asked." His voice was tinged with exasperation both at Will and at the situation. He didn't admit that he was asking the same question to himself just as often.

Will shook his head. He and the others were starting to get worried. They had checked every inch of the road and then the trail that Robin was supposed to take back to camp. There was no sign of him.

They had come back down the road and found some fresh blood near where they had seen the wagon with the man and the little girl, but nothing else.

John looked at Nasir as he knelt and checked the ground yet again. The Saracen shook his head. There were too many tracks to be positive about anything. "A fight."

"That's clear enough," Will said sarcastically. "So, what happened?"

"Nasir's a tracker not a seer," Tuck pointed out.

Will scowled at the friar but didn't say anything further.

Much was staring down at the blood on the grass. "You don't think..." he couldn't bring himself to say the words as his mind rebelled at the thought.

"No!" John said quickly. His face softened when he looked at Much. "Robin's all right. He wasn't involved in this."

"We don't know that," Will pointed out. He ignored John's warning look. "Well, we don't," he insisted.

Tuck asked Nasir, "Do you see Robin's footprints anywhere?"

Nasir nodded, dashing John's and Will's hopes. "He came from that direction." He pointed east. "They stop here." He pointed to the ground. "Then, nothing."

"What about that wagon we saw?" John asked, remembering that they had stopped it to ask about Robin.

Nasir shrugged. "It came by after the fight. The wheel tracks cover the footprints."

"Then, Robin could have been picked up and taken away by the people in the wagon," Tuck reasoned.

"It was full of furniture," Will reminded him. "There wasn't room for anybody."

"Maybe," John said. "If not that, then where did Robin go? If so..."

"We follow the wagon," Will finished as he looked up at John.

John grinned, although it wasn't a happy grin. He was glad to be doing something besides going around in circles. They still didn't know whether their deduction was correct, but at least they had a goal to aim for. John prayed that Robin would not only be at the end of their search, but that he'd be safe. Logic dictated that the man and the little girl wouldn't have taken Robin if he'd been dead. Of course, the flip side of that was that if Robin hadn't been hurt, he wouldn't have been in the wagon in the first place. John shook his head. If Robin was hurt, he hoped his friend was being well cared for.

With Nasir in the lead, the outlaws started off in the direction the wagon had been heading. They each refused to believe that the whole journey ahead could be a waste of time.

When darkness fell, they reluctantly moved off the road and made camp. The journey would continue at first light.

Continued --