A/N: this story will cover quite a couple of years; I have made some changes in matters of the time Robin was in the Holy Land and the time Guy spent in Nottingham. At least at the beginning you might also wonder about Guy's behaviour; it's not quite typical for him. And please don't worry about the girl's age at the beginning.

Please be lenient with occasional mistakes. I'm German and it's always hard if English isn't your first language; grammar school was a looooong time ago.

Prologue

When he rode into the inner ward of the castle, I knew he was the most handsome man I had ever seen. He was tall, even taller than my father and had dark, wavy hair. The way he was sitting on his horse, so proud and erect and how imperiously he tossed the reins to the stable boy! He was too far away and I didn't get more than a glimpse of him from my window; so I snatched up my skirts and raced down the flight of stairs. My father would be sitting in the great hall with a tankard of wine at this time. I had to see this stranger. When I turned the corner, I nearly collided with the unknown knight in my haste. I halted only inches from him and saw black leather when I looked up. He was still young and even more handsome than I had thought. As I had seen from upstairs, he had dark brown, nearly black hair and a wonderful aquiline nose. Bright eyes, not quite blue and not quite grey, looked down at me and his mouth curled in a slight smile. "Take care, where you are running to, little one," he said, not unfriendly, and pulled at my braids. "Your father's in there?" I could only nod and he walked towards the great hall with powerful strides. Little one, he had said. Little one! I was nearly twelve, even if Gertrude used to say that I looked like ten. Sadly enough, my sister was right, I looked like ten; not even the hint of a bosom was to be seen. Plaintively I looked after the knight, then positioned myself at the entrance of the great hall and watched him. Unfortunately he stood too far away and I only saw his back. Whereas his dark voice had sounded nice when he had spoken to me, it was threatening and boomed through the hall now. Judging from the expression on my father's face, he was not exhilarated to see this stranger. I heard something about taxes, but when my father noticed me, he beckoned me away. His frown told me not to make an attempt to contradict him, although I often managed to twist him around my little finger.

At supper I learned the identity of the knight. His name was Guy of Gisborne and he was one of the Sheriff's men. Father was furious and shouted something about daylight robbery and who should be able to pay these taxes. It was not the last time we saw Guy of Gisborne. He was always kind to me when he saw me, but nevertheless I understood why my father didn't like him. Once I was present when my father yelled at him that the former Sheriff Nottingham had never tried to collect more taxes that the peasants of the nobles were able to pay and heard him ask whether he was indifferent to the fate of the people. Guy of Gisborne had only sneered at him without replying.

When he left our castle, I ran after him. "Sir Guy, it is not right what you are doing. You can't be that indifferent!" Strange enough, he didn't snub at me, but only looked at me with his intense bright eyes and stroked my head slightly. "Little one, you don't know the ways of the world. If you don't take what you want, you will be squashed." Then his gaze hardened. "And the earlier you learn this, the better for you." With quick strides he walked to his horse and mounted without looking back. What a strange thing to say! It was as if he had not talked to me but to himself.

My father had learned long ago that he couldn't do anything against the Sheriff and his lieutenant; he became moody and taciturn at times and refused to join the nobles' counsel in Nottingham any longer. My brothers had reached the age where they left for becoming knaves and often enough my father would talk to me then. You're a bright child, even brighter than your brothers, Hyld. It's a pity that you are a girl. I liked being a girl, but of course I knew what my father meant. At least I could help my mother with the stewardship of the castle. I knew how important this was; If the mistress of a castle mismanaged, the family's fortune faded away. Mother had taught me reading and I could calculate rather well, whereas my sisters were only interested in needlework and clothing. Meanwhile I had reached my thirteenth year and was ap0proaching womanhood.

My father told me that the nobles would nod approvingly to everything the Sheriff said and that he'd never participate in this farce. King Richard would make an end to this when – not if – he'd come back; he would appoint a new Sheriff, but until then father had to be patient, if he didn't want to risk losing everything. Only one man had dared to oppose against the Sheriff, Robin of Locksley, the Earl of Huntingdon. He was outlawed now, a bounty was offered on his head and Guy of Gisborne had been given Locksley's estates.

I didn't know why, but somehow it hurt me that so many bad things were told about Guy of Gisborne, especially since I knew most of these things were true. Father Guthric told me that Sir Guy had sold his soul to the Devil and what people said about him frightened me. By order of the Sheriff he killed people without batting an eyelid; the servants feared his tantrums and there was rumour that he had abandoned a child, he had fathered with a serving wench, in the woods. Nevertheless he was followed by women, since there was no man in the area, who looked as good as he did. Of course, the gentry gossiped and of course they exaggerated, but what they said made me blush.

A few weeks ago my father had told me that he would look for a husband for me, since I was nearly old enough to be married. When he noticed how pale I turned, he tried to appease me; I would get to know my future husband before the wedding. I had known then that my childhood was over. What kind of man would my father choose for me? Could I dream that he would look at least a little like Sir Guy and that he would look at me how he looked at Lady Marian?

He had courted Lady Marian and asked her hand in marriage and finally, after a long hesitance, she had accepted him. It was odd, but when I saw her with him – which was not often - I didn't have the feeling that she was in love with him. Obviously he didn't notice, but probably men are not as perceptive as women are.

Nothing could be dissimilar from my dreams than the man, who rode into the inner yard of our castle some weeks later.