Quintessence of Life: Fight for Peace

by Athenais Penelope Clemence

Having been officially declared dead but having survived his grave wound, Robin returns to England only to discover 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. This is part three of the long epic (trilogy).

4. Chapter 3 Bad Blood

Chapter 3

Bad Blood

Guy and Robin stared after Will and Little John who were walking away from the camp, disappearing in the woods. Only Robin, Guy, and Djaq, as well as Megan and Allan remained in the outlaws' sleeping quarters. Djaq busied herself with taking care of Allan, and she did that amazingly. Allan was unconscious and pale, and her hands trembled as she touched him, tears pouring down her cheeks.

Guy turned his gaze to Robin, his gaze intensive and inquisitive as he scrutinized his former sworn foe. Robin smiled ever so slightly and sent Guy a long, ambiguous look, his face impenetrable, his cool silence more effective than any word – he was waiting for Guy to speak first.

"Locksley, I want to thank you for saving our lives today," Guy began after a long pause.

"You are welcome, Gisborne," Robin replied somewhat indifferently, closing his eyes.

"Thank you for asking King Richard to pardon me," Guy continued, wishing Robin to open his eyes and look at him. "I know that I committed grave crimes. It was wrong of me to attempt regicide, and I do regret… that I went to the Holy Land twice. I do regret stabbing you in the Saracen attack."

Robin's sarcastic laughter was the response to Guy's frankness. "You sound like an honorable man, Gisborne," he taunted, his eyes still squeezed shut. "Once you were generous enough to enlighten me about your feelings for King Richard. You told me that you had loathed the king and considered him a burden for England." He let out a sardonic laugh again. "You traveled to Acre, contacted Vaisey's Muslim allies there, and together you attacked the Crusaders' camp. You dishonorably stabbed me from the back and ran to the king's tent. But I stopped you in spite of being wounded a few moments before." He sighed. "Then you went to Acre again, allowing Vaisey to drag shackled Marian and Isabella with you. You tried to kill the king but stopped at the very last moment."

Guy was searching for the right words. Robin's scathing sarcasm was insulting, and it was coming off as arrogance as well. "I tried to kill the king for power and wealth. My loyalty was misplaced," he acknowledged reluctantly, feeling angry with Robin for reminding him of his mistakes. "After I… stabbed you and then hastened to the king's tent, I hesitated for a brief moment, standing above the king's body. I wasn't sure I could kill Richard; something prevented me from striking a final blow. If I hadn't hesitated, you wouldn't have become the king's savior that night."

Finally, Robin's eyes flung open. He stared at Guy, his expression emotionless, but his eyes shone with the familiar audacious and sarcastic light which usually was a sign of him planning a devastating verbal assault directed at someone whom he didn't like. "What a wonderful confession, Gisborne! I begin to think that you might be a bit under the weather. But at least now I might be more relaxed because I know that no squad of armed soldiers, headed by you, will be arriving in the woods to capture me and my men in the middle of the night." He chuckled loftily. "Yeah, really, I should start to appreciate your frankness, I think! What a pity that we don't have a priest here!" He grinned. "Should we call Tuck here? I think that he will be pleased to see you more than me, for I don't like him a bit."

"Robin," Djaq called, shaking her head disapprovingly.

"Locksley, I don't care about your opinion," Guy snapped wrathfully.

Robin sniggered. "Gisborne, do you want to deprive me of an opportunity to mock you? You know that I relish in mischief; I always tease and mock my enemies."

"Not only your enemies, Robin," Djaq remarked.

Robin laughed and agreed, "Indeed!"

"You are too mischievous," Guy grouched.

Robin pushed back a few strands of hair from his forehead. He was feeling weary and drained, and his abdominal muscles hurt, his scar again throbbed painfully. "Gisborne, I misjudged you," he said in a personal manner, his tone amicable, without a touch of his ordinary sarcasm. "I know that you are not heartless. Marian was right that there is good in you, but I didn't want to see it for a long time."

Guy was silent, staring at Robin, as if measuring the truth of the other man's words. "Should I perceive it as one of your mischievous tricks, extreme exaggerations, or poisonous jokes?"

"Absolutely not," Robin responded. "I see now that you are not as evil as I thought. I wish you no harm, and I don't hate you; I am glad that we are no longer… enemies." With a deep sigh, he shut his eyes again. He carefully moved on the bunk and winced, again feeling pain; to his chagrin, he had to admit that the battle in Nottingham definitely had a toll on him.

For one long, breathless moment, Guy was silent, pondering over Robin's speech. Then he spoke in quite a light voice. "It is really good that this hatred… is gone."

"I asked the king to pardon you because I wanted to… make up for the unfair things which were done to you and your sister in childhood," Robin explained his actions.

Guy laughed ironically. "Of course, you did that not out of love for me."

Robin opened his eyes and grinned, staring at Guy. "Definitely, not."

"You said that you are departing to London with your friends tomorrow," Guy broached another subject.

"It is true." Robin sighed deeply. "Marian and my friend, Roger de Lacy, are kept hostage in the Tower of London, and I am going to rescue them. My friends and I will have to stop Prince John's coronation."

Guy was quiet for a moment as he contemplated his options. He could stay in Nottingham, or go to the continent and wait there until the king's return, or join Robin in the fight against Prince John. His mind flew to Marian, and his heart skipped a beat. He had to help Robin save Marian, even if she was no longer his wife! When Marian would be rescued, he would be able to take her away from England until the king's return. In the next moment, the memory of Robin asking King Richard to spare his life and pardon entered Guy's mind; he couldn't deny that he owed Robin his life. Guy decided to forget all of the existing selfish options as he found himself willing to fight against Prince John. He felt obliged to help Robin defeat John and keep the pretender from overthrowing Richard.

"I want to accompany you to London," Guy voiced his thoughts.

Robin chuckled, obviously amused. "Already ready to leave Lady Megan, Gisborne?"

"I… I…" Guy stammered. He looked around, his eyes darted between an unconscious Megan and Robin.

"Gisborne, you can go to London with Robin. I am staying here because Lady Megan and Allan need me," Djaq's voice resonated. "I will take care of them."

"Very well," Robin said.

Guy asked with concern, "Will Meg be alright if I leave?"

Djaq chuckled. "Lady Megan's condition doesn't depend on your presence here, Gisborne. I have already said that she will recover; she needs rest and treatment."

"Then I will go," Guy announced.

"If you wish, Gisborne," Robin said absently. "I will be grateful for your help."

"What are we going to do? What is your plan, Locksley?" Guy turned his head to Megan, silently asking her to pardon him for leaving her. But Megan loathed Prince John and was loyal to King Richard, and he was sure that she would approve of his decision to stop the coronation of the usurper. After all, Megan was fiercely loyal to Queen Eleanor and King Richard, and his decision would please her.

"Now you need to make yourself presentable, Gisborne," Robin stated in a half-commanding, half-mocking tone. "Stand up and take clean garments and clothes in the trunk near Allan's bed."

Guy sighed uncomfortably. "These clothes might not fit me."

Robin decided to enlighten him. "Before we came to Nottingham, I paid a short visit to Locksley Manor. I found what I needed – my own old clothes and some of your old clothes which you forgot in my house after I had been pardoned and you had relocated to the castle." He snickered. "Gisborne, I hope that you don't object to wearing black again."

"I don't mind," Guy answered. But wearing black would remind him of Vaisey, and he hated that.

Robin's eyes twinkled. "Then ask Tuck to… cut your hair," he murmured.

"Then I will examine you again, Gisborne," Djaq interjected. "I tend to the welts on your back again after you take a bath."

"I am growing impatient to do that," Guy said.

Robin laughed softly, thinking that his former adversary wouldn't appreciate his words. He sympathized with Guy because the older man had suffered a lot in prison, but he liked to mock and jeer at Guy and their conversations. "Make your choice, Gisborne. If you really want to help me save Marian and the king, then you have to take care of yourself, including looking more or less presentable and be healthy enough to fight," he said flatly, a lazy smile hovering over his lips; he wasn't looking at Guy. "I am not going to travel to London in the company of a man with an overgrown beard and greasy hair."

Guy gasped in shocked amazement that Robin had just dared say that. His eyes narrowed to slits as fury worked its way up inside of him to the surface. God, Robin Hood was infuriating and intolerable, he mused. "You arrogant bastard, I know that you are enjoying your superiority over me!"

"You are an easy target for a tease," Robin said innocently.

"You are an arrogant and spoiled brat! You will never change!" Guy fumed. "You are always a hero, and I am always a villain! You are a lucky and charming victor, and I am an unfortunate and wretched loser! Is that what you are trying to communicate, Lord Huntingdon, or how should I address you?"

Robin knew that he had crossed a line, but his desire to injure Gisborne's pride overweighed his tact. He didn't like Gisborne and didn't respect the man. He scoffed and let vitriol spill out of him. "Lord Gisborne, if you think that I am an arrogant and spoiled brat, then you are a greedy, ambitious, and cynical thug!" he exclaimed. "It might be insensitive of me to hurt your feelings, but I stated the facts. For a moment, I have forgotten that you have a heart, which I used to consider an entirely black one. I still tend to treat you more like an immoral bastard and a heartless whoreson than like a good man."

"Robin! Stop!" Djaq cried out, her voice sharp. "What are you doing? You started this quarrel!"

Guy jumped to his feet, his hand instinctively going to his waist; but he was unarmed, and he couldn't just unsheathe his sword and attack Robin. All his joyful thoughts of Robin's survival evaporated from his mind. "Hood, don't make me feel bad that you are alive!"

Ignoring Djaq's appeal, Robin challenged Guy. "Do you want to kill me, Gisborne?"

Djaq came to Guy and put her hand on his shoulder, preventing him from rushing to Robin's bunk in a fit of rage. "Enough!" she shouted. "You are not children! Your squabbles are stupid and petty!"

Robin pressed his lips together in defiance as he looked between Guy and Djaq. "Djaq, it is difficult for me to simply forget what Gisborne and the sheriff did to me."

"You are not a saint, Robin Hood," an enraged Guy fired.

Robin's temper cooled off, and he felt ashamed of his outburst. "And I don't pretend that I am."

"Neither of the two of you is a saint. You both are not perfect. But, overall, Robin is a better man, and I am sure, Gisborne knows this," Djaq interposed as she took a step from Guy. "It is a new experience for you both to work together and be on the same side." Her gaze flew to Robin. "I know that you, Robin, are tempted to go at Gisborne too hard. Gisborne tried to kill you many times, and he wronged you terribly." She tore her gaze from Robin and glanced at Guy. "Gisborne, you know all of your transgressions, and you have to understand how difficult for Robin this alliance is."

"It is difficult not only for Locksley," Guy barked. "Besides, he also wronged me."

Robin had the decency to say, "I did, and I am sorry for that."

Djaq nodded. "It is not easy for both of you." She flicked her gaze to Robin. "Robin, I understand you, but I don't condone your behavior. You must stop if you want this alliance to work."

Robin frowned, knowing that his Saracen friend had made valid points. "I do apologize."

Guy's anger slackened, and he smiled sadly. "Many years ago, I was a target for many of Locksley's pranks. The young heir to a rich earldom thought that it was acceptable to have fun at my expense. My father was just one of the many vassals of his father, and I had to tolerate his misbehavior."

"It is true," Robin admitted, albeit reluctantly. "Yet, Gisborne, I always saw you as a human being, and I never humiliated you deliberately. I was spoiled and loved having a great fun." He smiled slightly. "You resented me for my penchant to always have my own way and enjoy mischief." He sighed. "But I ceased viewing you as a good young man... after the fire at Gisborne Manor."

That hit a sore spot, and Guy's chest heaved with emotional pain. "I don't want to talk about the fire!"

Seeing that Guy wasn't going to do anything stupid, Djaq returned to Allan's bunk and settled herself there, taking the hand of the wounded man in hers. Guy walked to Megan's bunk and landed on the edge, taking her hand in his; his heart burned within him at the sight of her ghostly pale face.

Robin released a sigh. "And you will have to. Today."

Guy looked at Robin, and a frown of distress creased his forehead. "What?"

"Later," Robin said dismissively. "Gisborne, we talked about you joining me in our fight against Prince John," he jumped to another topic. "If we become allies, you must obey me and always report everything you do or intend to do to me. You are a highly skilled warrior, and you know that there can be only one commander in battle; otherwise this battle is doomed to fail. The commanders are Robert de Beaumont and me; we both are Richard's most loyal men and trusted advisers, and it is our fight."

Guy was biting his bottom lip. "Fine, Locksley," he acquiesced.

"I doubt that we will ever become friends, Gisborne, for there is too much bad blood between us," Robin continued in a serious tone. "It is of no matter to me whether you like or respect me. I only ask you to be civil with me and loyal to King Richard, nothing more and nothing less."

"Only if you promise to be civil with me," Guy shot back, his eyes fixed on Robin. "If all I get will be you cursing and mocking me, then I will respond in the same manner."

"I will be civil; I will try," Robin promised, grinning. "But I like mocking you, Gisborne!"

"Then you have a truce," Djaq joined their conversation.

Robin turned to Djaq, smiling. "Seems so."

Guy looked down, at his hand wrapped around Megan's wrist. "Something else, Locksley?" he asked uneasily.

Robin swung his gaze to Guy. "One thing, Gisborne." He ran his hand through his hair. "I want you to know that I am not trying to humiliate you, like the sheriff regularly did. I ask you to follow my orders not because I consider you an incompetent soldier, but because I have much more military experience than you. It might sound arrogant of me, but I have to say that I am good at strategic planning and at inventing clever schemes, although I might be hotheaded and reckless. I headed King Richard's private guard for about five years, and I didn't receive this position only thanks to the royal favor I have."

Guy nodded. "Thank you." He was truly grateful for the explanation.

Robin pulled himself into a sitting position on his bunk; then he stared at Guy fixedly. "What happened in Imuiz was a tragic coincidence." He sighed. "There was no way I could fight with the sheriff – I had no time because Vaisey was advancing at the wounded king. I could do only one thing to save the king – to place myself between Vaisey and the king."

"I know," Guy murmured.

Robin and Guy stared at each other in silence. Neither of them wanted to remember the events in Acre, although it was much more painful and heartbreaking for Robin than for Guy.

Some deep emotion flashed in Robin's eyes that turned blank in a split second. "And I knew that, most likely, I would die when I made this decision. I was ready to die for Richard, and I will give my life for him again if I have to."

"I believe you, Locksley. You couldn't have allowed Vaisey to kill the king, especially because–" He broke off, looking at Djaq.

Robin let out a small laugh. "Djaq knows the truth. I was very talkative in my fevered dreams."

Djaq lifted her eyes from Allan's face and looked in Robin's direction. "Your secret is safe with me, Robin. I didn't say anything even to Will."

Robin smiled at her. "I know."

Djaq rose to her feet, approached Robin, and landed on the edge of his bunk, next to her friend. "You know that I will never do anything to hurt you, Robin." She sighed. "I understand how serious it is, especially given how much blood might be spilled the truth comes out in the open."

"I trust you with my life, Djaq," Robin said with an affectionate smile on his face.

Djaq smiled back at him. "And so do I, Robin."

Robin tore his gaze from Djaq and gazed at Guy. "If nobles learn the truth… about my true lineage, war for succession might begin in England. The legitimacy of King Henry and Queen Eleanor's children must never be questionable."

Guy gave a nod of understanding, feeling the pressure of the secret Robin had carried on his shoulders. "Locksley, I promised the king that I would never tell anybody about it. I will keep my word."

There was some kind of fierceness on Robin's face as he spoke. "Gisborne, when I asked the king to reveal to you the truth, I knew that he would explain to you everything. If you divulge the secret, Richard will just kill you, like he killed everyone who could talk." He turned his gaze at Djaq. "Djaq, you must keep this secret as well because if… he learns that you know it, I will be unable to protect you from… Richard; he won't take additional risks."

Djaq nodded. "I am well aware of the risks, Robin. No worries."

"I am not a fool! I know that I can say and what I cannot," Guy assured them, slightly offended. He closed his eyes, fortifying himself to remain composed. "After all, I witnessed how Bridget and Thornton were killed at Locksley Manor. I think that Richard's spies were there."

Robin drew in a wheezing breath, suddenly distressed, as suspicions crept into his mind. "I have heard about their deaths when I was in Locksley today." He gave a bitter laugh. "Richard's spies are not related to the matter." He was sure that Malcolm had killed them.

"What?" Guy gasped in amazement. "Who killed Thornton and Bridget? Villagers accuse me of their murder, but I didn't shoot them!"

Robin schooled his features into a mask of fake composure which he could wear so proficiently. "Gisborne, get up and go clean up yourself." He let out a tired sigh. "I will take some rest. I need it."

Although he wished to continue their conversation, Guy wordlessly nodded. He gave Megan's hand a quick squeeze, as if he needed it to reassure himself that she was alive. Then he abruptly stood up and headed to the trunk that contained clothes, as Robin had mentioned a few minutes ago. He was pleased to find his old things; he also took a wide cotton cloth to have a bath, which Robin had also brought from Locksley Manor to the outlaws' camp.

Guy found Tuck, Kate, and Rebecca outside the sleeping quarters, sitting around the fire; others was still absent. As he knew the forest quite well, Guy headed to his destination, covering the way to one of the numerous streams in Sherwood in half an hour. He knew one wonderful stream in the depths of the forest, where he had often come to swim in childhood and boyhood. He couldn't wait to bathe and change his rags for his decent clothing.

Soon Guy stood completely naked on the bank of a pretty, lily-padded stream, looking into the deep and dark water. Now, in the propitiatory silence of the early afternoon, it would be so pleasant and refreshing to bathe, he thought. He dove into the stream and soon came out from under the water, a gorgeous mane of his long, raven, wet hair enveloping his head entirely, falling down his face like a dark curtain; he pushed his hair back, thinking that he had to cut it as soon as possible.

Guy spent a long time in the water, luxuriating in the coolness and freshness of water flowing around him. It was close to the dusk when he climbed from the water and hurried to take a large cloth from the bag which he had brought from the camp. As he mopped his thin body with the cloth, he quickly put on his underwear, his trousers, his shirt, and finally his black leather jerkin, feeling chagrined that he had lost so much weight during his imprisonment as clothing was too large for in his chest and hips.

Guy sat down on the bank, and then stared into the deep waters of the stream. His back was hurting, for there were still too many still-healing welts there; he really needed Djaq's help. He remembered this place so well: he had found it together with Isabella when once they had wandered in the forest, strolling alone because they had tried to stay away from other children, who had never liked the young offspring of Lady Ghislaine of Gisborne, a Norman widow and an outsider among the Saxon community.

Guy found himself enjoying the silence and beauty of greenwood and the twittering of birds. He got to his feet and strolled a little along the stream, his eyes taking in the picturesque foliage of the forest awakening in spring, with dead leaves still on some branches and new ones trying to be born. He stopped and sat on a log on the very edge of the bank, contemplating the dreary vastness of the stream. Sherwood Forest was a beautiful place, and he did like it a lot.

"Sir Guy, Lord Huntingdon told me where to find you," Tuck's voice came as the monk stopped several steps from Guy. "Little John accompanied me here, but then he went back to the camp."

Guy smiled; of course, Robin knew this place because it was Guy who had once led Isabella and Robin there. "What are you doing here? What do you want? I am in no need for a sermon or a confession."

"Sir Robin told me that you need to cut your hair and shave. He sent me to help you."

"Robin takes too much on himself." Guy chuckled, smoothing his hair back with one hand. "Well, for once I agree with him: I do need and want to cut my hair."

Tuck began to help Guy have his beard and hair cut. When Tuck finished, he perused Guy and smiled. Guy looked at the surface of the water, at his own reflection, fascinated with the changes, as if he were mesmerized; his face seemed lengthened as he had lost weight, but he still looked handsome.

"Now you look much better," Tuck opined.

Guy smiled. "Maybe."

They returned to the outlaws' camp in the gathering dusk. The great fire was burning near the kitchen, throwing an orange glow on everything around. Kate, Rebecca, and John sat around the fire, staring thoughtfully into the flames. Will stood at the entrance to the sleeping quarters, talking to Djaq who was still fussing over Megan and Allan. As Much was not there, the dinner was being cooked by John, and at the fire were roasting steaks of venison, pheasants, squirrels, and fresh fish from the river. All the air was filled with the sweet smell of good things cooking.

Djaq swept out of the sleeping quarters and stopped next to Will. As her eyes fell on Gisborne, she beckoned him to her. "Gisborne, come here. We need to do something."

Guy appreciated Djaq's offer; his injured back was burning with fire after the bath. "Thank you for your help," he said as he stopped near the entrance to the sleeping part of the camp.

"Let's go." Then Djaq walked inside the camp.

The lines of worry etched into his face suddenly made Guy look older. He stalked towards the sleeping quarters and passed by Will, who frowned at him. Ignoring the young carpenter who obviously hated him, Guy entered and stopped abruptly. "Robin is not here! Why?" he addressed his question to Djaq.

"Robin is the most disobedient patient I have ever had. He knows that he should rest, but he prefers to think that he is invincible and nothing can hurt him."

Guy made a step forward and paused. "It is a typical Robin! It took me some time to understand that."

Djaq shook her head, her long dark hair falling freely down her back. Her hair had grown during the year she had lived in Acre, and she wasn't going to cut it. "Robin is a very reserved man, and he rarely wears his heart on his sleeve. Yet, he is outspoken and always needs a good company to be happy and feel like himself. He needs to be loved, and he thrives on the love others feel for him. We are friends, but he hasn't opened his heart to me, although I can read his mind quite well."

Guy seated himself on a nearby unoccupied bunk. "Robin Hood is an enigma I cannot decipher. He is like a closed book, but every page of this book is important."

"Exactly," Djaq agreed, amazed that Gisborne had begun to understand Robin. "Gisborne, undress!"

Guy removed his jerkin and his shirt, throwing them on the bunk. Holding a small bottle filled with rose oil, Djaq came to Guy and began to work; she took a clean cloth and soaked it in oil.

"Ah!" Guy moaned at the touch of the cloth on the exposed skin of his back.

"Patience," Djaq said softly as she rubbed special ointment into Guy's skin. "This ointment will help take away some pain, but it will hurt for at least several weeks more."

"What is it?"

"Saracen wonders!" Djaq gave a quiet laugh. "It is healing well. You won't have many scars left."

"Thank you." Guy's lips were trembling as he spoke.

"You are welcome, Gisborne."

Guy looked around, his eyes lingering on Robin's empty bunk. "Where did Robin go?"

The young Saracen shrugged. "Robin was secretive. He asked me to tell you that tonight he would take you somewhere for a private conversation with someone. I know nothing else."

"Interesting," Guy said briefly, dumbfounded.

When Djaq finished the treatment, Guy thanked her and hastily put on his shirt. He headed to Megan's bunk and settled onto the edge. Guy looked down at Megan who stirred under the tender touch of his thumb to her cheek. Her face was relaxed and lovely, as if nothing had happened to her today, as if she were sleeping peacefully. Guy liked her fine-boned and smooth-skinned face, her rosy lips full and sensual; her dark brows were swooped in a graceful curve over her closed eyes of the stormy sea color. Megan was beautiful and tempting, and Guy wanted her to recover and be well.

Guy didn't know why he had felt so elated remembering the moment when he had promised Lord Hugh Bennet to protect Megan. He intended to fulfill the promise. He had never had anyone to take care of, except for Marian, and he hadn't done his duty to Marian well. But he wouldn't fail Megan, he thought.

§§§

The sunset hour in Sherwood Forest was still and lonely, blazing in gold and red as the sun was slowly sinking behind the trees. Robin sauntered along the well-known paths in the forest, enjoying the sweetness of the peaceful moment. He made his way to the western part of the woods, heading to the abandoned cottage, where Malcolm was supposed to wait for him tonight. He knew the way very well, for there was nobody in the shire who knew the woods better than him.

When he nearly reached the outer circle of Sherwood Forest, he dived between the bushes, and was at once hidden in the shadows of trees as the sun had almost sunk behind the trees and there was little of daylight left. He decided to shorten his way and took the briefest and most secretive way through the bushes, avoiding the longer way along the River Trent. Feeling a nagging pain in his lower abdomen, Robin slowed his pace, stopped for a moment to rest, and then resumed walking.

Robin paused near the shabby, old cottage. His heart ached to see his father, who had given up a normal life after the fire at Gisborne Manor. But when he remembered Malcolm's actions in the courtyard, a tide of anger swept over him. He stood silent for a moment, a myriad of conflicted emotions swirling in his head. He was pleased to see his father and to know that he was alive, but he couldn't forgive Malcolm for leaving him to his fate when he had been kidnapped by Bailiff Longthorn. He didn't quite know how to treat Malcolm – as a stranger, a long-lost friend, or as a father.

Taking a deep, shuddering breath, Robin pushed the door, and in the fading light of the afternoon, streaming through the only grated window, he saw a slender hooded man of an average height, who had risen to his feet at the cracking sound of the opening door and now stood, looking at his back-from-the-dead son from beneath the folds of his hood. The hooded man made a step towards Robin, but then stopped, hesitating, as if not knowing what to do and say.

"I am here," Robin began in a neutral voice. He didn't know what he felt for Malcolm. He didn't feel any love for the hooded man, his father, who, however, had abandoned him years ago and hadn't raised him as his son. He didn't hate or loathe him – he pitied Malcolm.

"Are you alright, Robin?" Malcolm asked worriedly. He feared to address Robin as his son.

Robin glowered at Malcolm, and an unpleasant smirk twisted his lips. "Although you didn't want us to save Gisborne and the three other prisoners, my men, Archer, and I did that. There was a fight in Nottingham, on the central square." He emitted a heavy sigh. "We returned to our old camp in the forest. After taking a short rest, I came here."

Malcolm was silent for a few long heartbeats. He then said, "I am glad that you are… unscratched."

"Let's take a seat."

Robin snuffed out two candles that were burning at the only table in the small room, for he didn't wish to attract attention to the place. Malcolm realized that Robin wanted to guarantee the secrecy of the place, and he didn't object. The room was pitched into semi-darkness, and now the only light came from the flickering flames of the fire dancing in the hearth.

There were two chairs and two benches in the room, and Robin seated himself in a chair near the hearth. He made a sharp movement that caused him pain, and the familiar nagging pain shot through his lower stomach. A grimace on his face, Robin shifted in his chair, thinking that he overestimated his physical strength. Djaq was right that he needed more rest after the today's intense battle.

Malcolm asked worriedly, "How are you, Robin? Do you need my help?"

"No, thank you," Robin refused. "I am alright."

"Are you really feeling well?"

"Yes, I am. It is usual for me to feel this pain." Robin's words came out in a half growl, half groan that echoed in the back of his throat. "We were embroiled in an intense fight today. I strained myself too much, more than I should have done. I will feel better tomorrow."

"You haven't recovered yet, right?"

Robin looked down, at his stomach. "Around eight months have passed since Vaisey stabbed me in Acre, and the wound has healed well. But I was… too badly injured; I just need more time to recuperate."

"You should take better care of yourself. You should be rooting for your own healthy longevity instead of rescuing murderers and traitors like Gisborne." Malcolm rose to his feet and moved to the hearth to throw a log into the fire.

Robin chose to not comment on his father's statement about Guy. "I don't have time to rest. Not now."

"King Richard," Malcolm said succinctly. He settled in his chair, holding Robin's gaze.

Robin gave a nod. "Yes." He sighed. "King Richard was taken prisoner in Austria, and now Prince John is plotting to overthrow him. I have to save the king again and protect his throne."

"You should recover at first, Robin."

"My life is no longer in peril, but Richard's life might be."

Malcolm smiled. "You are so loyal to King Richard. You saved his life by sacrificing yourself for him."

"I did my duty to my king. And I also did what I wanted to do."

The hooded man tilted his head to one side, surveying Robin. His heart began to beat faster in delight: Robin was more handsome and charming than he had been in his youth. His son took a lot after him in the appearance, Malcolm thought proudly; Robin's sandy hair and pale blue eyes were the hallmarks of the Huntingdon family and his Saxon heritage. Robin looked very young, younger than his real age, and his lithe build didn't make him looking older. Yet, his son was something that Malcolm had never been: he was a dashing, honorable, and charming hero, the only one of the English nobleman of the time who stood up against tyranny and fought for freedom and for his forward-looking ideas.

Malcolm shifted his hood to better see Robin, not removing it. He began to talk in a family manner, like a father talks to his son, hoping that Robin wouldn't bristle in anger. "Son, I know that you became a war hero in the Holy Land. I have also heard a lot about the great exploits of the heroic Robin Hood. Everyone admires and loves you! You are a legend of England! Bards sing songs of praise about Robin Hood and his merry men! You are probably more loved by the English people than King Richard!"

A smug grin graced Robin's features. "Yeah, maybe people exaggerate." He pretended that he hadn't noticed the change in his father's way of addressing him.

"No, they don't," Malcolm claimed.

"Perhaps."

"Son, I am so proud of you. I am so proud of the man you have become."

Despite Malcolm's heartfelt disposition, Robin still didn't know how to treat his presumably-long-dead father – with coldness and resentment for abandoning him and Archer or with gratitude for leaving him to protect him. "You seem to know a great deal about me, Father," he said, astounded that he referred to Malcolm, almost a stranger after the long separation, as his father. "But I am not amazed. I am sure that Queen Eleanor of Aquitaine told you many things about me."

Malcolm rose to his feet. His entire body went as rigid as if Robin had just buried a dagger in his chest. When shock began to ease, he began to speak in a low, shaky voice. "You do know the truth? Who told you?" He took a step back from the chair where Robin sat.

Robin nodded. "Yes. I found your diary hidden in the box where you kept our family's jewels." He let out a heavy breath. "I read the diary and learned everything in details. Then Richard told me the truth."

Mortal terror surged through Malcolm. "And what… do you think?"

Robin remained silent for a moment, as if ruminating. Then he said, "The truth is confusing and bitter."

Robin's father sat down again. "I can imagine. It must be… difficult for you to accept the truth."

Robin made a sad attempt at smiling. "I am confused about everything in my life. One of my dear friends – the physician who saved my life – says that it is normal after what I have been through."

Keenness shot from Malcolm's eyes. "Tell me everything, if you can speak about it."

"Alright." Robin reluctantly rehearsed the story of the regicide attempt in Imuiz, his death, and his miraculous survival. He sighed with relief when he finished the tale. "This is the whole story."

"You have such fortitude! You are a fighter and a survivor! Any other man would have died!"

"I don't want to talk about my death. Seriously, enough was said."

"Of course, Robin."

"Well, my dear Father," Robin drawled caustically. "I grant you, it is interesting to know that you have such a high opinion of me. I may be almost sure of getting your admiration at least, if not love."

"Robin… Robin…" Malcolm breathed plaintively. The statement was implicative: his son doubted that Malcolm loved him. "Please don't say this. Please don't be so cruel to me…"

"I am not being cruel. It is something else," Robin tried to explain the emotions that possessed him. "What should I feel when I learn that you are alive after believing for years that you died in the fire?"

"I don't know." Malcolm cast his eyes down.

"And neither do I."

"Prince John said that Guy of Gisborne had murdered you," Malcolm mumbled, his voice unsteady.

"John lied, and because of that Gisborne had to spend many months in the dungeons."

"I don't care for Guy of Gisborne," Malcolm growled. "I hate Roger of Gisborne for everything he did to me and to you. He was a villain who sold out our secret to King Henry, hoping that he would be pardoned for high treason and being indifferent that you, Robin – an innocent child – would suffer."

"I despise Roger of Gisborne as well, Father. This man had no honor and conscience; he brought a great trouble upon our family. But Guy and his sister, Isabella, are not innocent of Sir Roger's sins, and they mustn't be held accountable for your own mistakes, Father."

"Do you blame me for this old story, Robin?"

"I do," Robin answered firmly.

"Why, Son?"

Robin gazed away, refusing to meet his father's intensely haunted gaze. "You should have kept the secret of my true parentage instead of sharing it with Lady Ghislaine of Gisborne during your pillow talk. I don't comprehend why you told Lady Ghislaine the truth. It was foolish of you to do that."

"I trusted Ghislaine because I loved her."

Robin breathed deeply, his heart aching at the thought that he wasn't a love child as he had once believed. Instead, he was a product of Malcolm's adultery with Queen Eleanor of Aquitaine – a child of his father's lust. "Even if you… loved Lady Ghislaine, you should have kept silent."

Malcolm flung off his hood and shook his head, displaying his scarred face to Robin. His expression evolved into a troubled one as he stared steadily into Robin's eyes. "Robin, I beg you not to hate Queen Eleanor. She has always loved you; she sacrificed many years of normal life for you."

"I know. Richard told me that she had lost a chance to be released from her prison after King Henry had learned the truth about her adultery with you and … my existence."

"It is true, Robin. Eleanor always tried to protect you… by trusting your life to King Richard."

"I have no doubt that she did everything to keep me safe."

"Then don't hate you. Try to understand her. Everything we did was necessary to protect you."

Lounging in his chair, Robin stretched his back, and put his hands behind his head. He cogitated his response for a minute. "You will be astonished if I say that I am not angry with Queen Eleanor. On the contrary, I am grateful for everything good she did for me." He paused, collecting his thoughts. "When I learned the truth, I was deeply shocked, and we had a hot argument with Richard." He blinked once, his lashes casting dark shadows against the pallor of his skin before added, "But I reconciled with the fact that I am a bastard, because I have a deep affection for Richard… and because of my undying gratitude for his role in my life. Later, I accepted my true parentage because my world and I changed."

"Everything changed?" Malcolm's voice was wonder-stricken.

As he was getting perturbed, Robin turned to the window, fearing that he would fail to conceal his emotions that were buried under his façade of neutrality. "Death had a strange effect on me. It changed me and my life." He swallowed hard and looked back at his father, his expression rigid but controlled. In the emotional struggle, a mask fell from his face, and raw pain found its reflection in his eyes. "As I said, I was confused and I am still confused, but my mind is… clearing, though slowly. Now I see my life, myself, and many things in a different light."

Malcolm could see the reflection of Robin's bleeding heart in his son's eyes. He shuddered at the thought how much his son had suffered in his relatively short life. He himself would have never been able to become a man like Robin. "You are a very strong man, Robin. I am so proud of you."

Robin flashed a smile of detachment. "Well, it is good to know this."

"Your mother is proud of you as well," Malcolm affirmed. "I met her only a few times after the fire, and we spoke a lot about you. She told me how clever, smart, intelligent, brave, and noble-hearted you were." He smiled with a slow, dazzling smile which brightened his scarred face so much that for a moment, his face reminded that of an attractive young man who had once been a star at the royal court and whose head-spinning charm had entranced Queen Eleanor. "She was incarcerated, but she always stayed in contact with Richard, Edward, and Thornton. They regularly informed her about you."

"Sir Edward Fitzwater was an honorable and loyal man. I was with him when he died, and I still blame myself for not saving him that day. He had been my guardian for many years before Richard assumed this responsibility until my majority. He loved me like his own son and took good care of me, spoiling and pampering me. He was a fatherly figure to me and tried to give me the guidance of a wise man. However, Edward didn't understand me completely, and many of our opinions diverged."

"King Richard understands you better. Is that so?"

Robin smiled. "Yes."

"Richard is Eleanor's son through and through, and he has much in common with his famous mother. Robin, you have much in common with Eleanor. That's why Richard knows you very well."

"Naturally." Indeed, Richard was one of the few men who understood the intricacies of Robin's mind. Robin also found himself feeling sympathetic with the legendary old lady who had endured a lot due to the total wreckage of her marriage to King Henry II of England. Yet, he feared to face Eleanor.

"Robin?" Malcolm's voice shattered Robin's short-lived reverie.

There was something else Robin needed to know. "I have heard that Bridget and Thornton are dead," he broached the sore subject. "It was you who I killed them?"

"Why are you asking?"

Robin detected notes of fear in his father's tone. It was enough for him to make the conclusion. "In the morning, I was in Locksley and met Mary, one of the maids. She was overjoyed to see me alive and promised to keep silent until Gisborne's execution." Then his face hardened. "She said that Bridget and Thornton had been murdered from a bow. It looked like a renowned marksman had shot them."

"It was me. I killed Thornton and Bridget," Malcolm got things out in the open.

"Why? Why?" a disheartened Robin asked impatiently.

Malcolm offered an explanation. "I overheard their conversation with Gisborne and Edward's daughter, Marian. They were discussing Bailiff Longthorn's assassination attempts on your life." He clenched his fists. "Thornton betrayed us, Robin. I couldn't have allowed Thornton to tell them the truth."

"Gisborne and Marian already know the truth," Robin enlightened. "Richard revealed to them the truth because I asked him about that on my deathbed. I also asked the king to pardon Gisborne."

Malcolm jumped to his feet. "How could you ask the king about that, Robin? Do you understand how dangerous this secret is?" He raised his voice. "Your own life is in danger! The Queen Mother's reputation is at stake! Political stability in the Angevin Empire might be annihilated!"

"I know, but I believe that Gisborne deserved to know the truth. The secret of my true parentage was the reason why Gisborne was sacrificed by… my mother and my half-brother – Queen Eleanor and King Richard – to let me live a life of a rich, high-ranking nobleman after the fire."

"Robin, you have a big and kind heart!" Malcolm exclaimed, frowning. "You felt guilty of Gisborne's unhappiness, which is why you requested that the king spare the life of this criminal and tell him the truth." His frown deepened. "You felt guilty that Gisborne lost his lands and was banished."

Robin returned in a casual voice, "I am Robin Hood! That's why I care about everything and everyone." A sigh erupted from the deepest part of his soul before he spoke. "Your guess is right: I felt guilty and wanted to right the wrongs caused to the Gisborne offspring so long ago."

"Your heart is too noble, Son. But you shouldn't have helped Gisborne."

Robin shook his head in disagreement and glanced away, staring into the flames in the hearth. "Lies almost destroyed Guy's life and my own life." He raised his voice a notch. "We had to untangle the web of lies and mysteries and to stop hating each other. That's why I asked Richard to grant Guy a royal pardon and tell him the truth; rest assured that I am very fond of him, and I don't respect him."

"Robin, what if the truth slips from their tongues?" Malcolm was apprehensive.

"Richard told Guy and Marian everything and made them promise that they would take the secret to their graves. Otherwise, Richard will kill them."

"But the king cannot watch them all the time," Robin's father pointed out.

Robin shrugged eloquently. "Richard has an expansive network of spies and his own secrets. Even I don't know all his deals." He glanced down, at his hands folded on his lap. "Gisborne and Marian understand the importance of keeping this secret. They will never utter a word."

"Well, if you think so…"

Robin looked Malcolm squarely in the eye. "These days, you seem to have some twisted desire to have a target practice on defenseless people. You shot Bridget and Thornton, and today you shot Allan."

"I had no choice," Malcolm attempted to defend himself. "I had to silence both Bridget and Thornton. Thornton betrayed my trust, and Bridget was too talkative and dangerous." He lowered his head, shame coursing through his veins. "I shot this young man in the courtyard in the heat of anger."

Robin sighed. "Allan's condition is bad. His life is in grave danger."

"I am sorry," Robin heard his father say.

"Is it the only thing you can say after you shot an innocent man who courageously tried to save f another innocent man from death?"

A look of shame was distinguishable on Malcolm's face. "I have done enough in my life to call down the wrath of God. I committed so many mistakes that I will probably never atone in two lifetimes."

"I just hope that Allan will survive." Robin's voice was nearly mortuary.

Malcolm hung his head. "I hope that he will be alright."

"Pray he will," Robin spoke with harshness.

"I know that you despise me, Robin. I don't blame you for not loving me anymore." Malcolm's eyes revealed the depth of his sadness at the thought that his eldest son probably hated him.

"Father, I don't hate and loathe you," Robin said in soothing tones that surprised Malcolm. His lips curled into a ghost of a smile. "You disappeared after the fire because of me. You decided to give up a life of a nobleman and hide, so that I could live and inherit your titles and estates."

"It was my duty to protect you."

"Guy should know that you are alive. You have to talk to Archer as well. Don't you think so?"

Malcolm pulled his hood on his head. "I know that I have to face them," he agreed gruffly. "I will tell you everything. There will be no bad blood between all of us then."

Robin scoffed. "There is too much bad blood between Gisborne and me. We will be tainted forever." He ran both hands through his hair in exasperation. "Some things can be forgiven but not forgotten."

"You haven't forgiven Gisborne, have you?"

Robin climbed to his feet. "Gisborne killed several people whom I loved, and I cannot forgive him for that." He smiled vaguely. "I gave him a chance to lead a normal life, but this is all I can offer him."

Malcolm was secretly pleased that his son didn't forgive Guy. "I understand, Son."

"I am leaving. Wait for us here." Robin turned around and walked out of the cottage.

§§§

After Djaq had finished tending to the healing welts on Guy's back, Guy thanked her. He discovered how delightful it was to feel that not everyone hated and loathed him, that someone wanted to help him without asking anything in return, just because he needed help. Before walking out of the sleeping quarters, Guy smiled faintly at Djaq with gratitude, drawing a matching look from her.

Guy found Robin and Archer standing near a tall oak tree, absorbed in a lively conversation. Having noticed Guy walking towards them, Robin and Archer lapsed into silence, appraising Guy who was walking to them. It was difficult, though not impossible, to recognize in Guy the same miserable prisoner whom they had dragged from the scaffold several hours ago. Although Guy was attractive in his expensive black leather attire, he was looked haggard and careworn, and his face seemed lopsided; there was an imprint of sufferings and agony in his posture and his looks.

Guy made a quick perusal of Robin. Having already changed his clothes, Robin now wore forest green leather trousers, a brown muslin shirt, and his old black leather jerkin – his old outlaw attire. Guy smirked to himself, thinking that Robin's jerkin was designed in quite an eccentric fashion for an earl and a grown-up man. He wondered whether Robin deliberately chose boyish outfits to stress his youth.

Like Robin, Archer was dressed boyishly, in a brown shirt with whimsical embroidery on the front and dark brown leather trousers. Above his shirt, he wore a brown leather jerkin that was unbuttoned down to his waist. Archer looked handsome, roguish, and charming, and Guy noticed, not for the first time today, that there was some facial resemblance between Robin and Archer. Robin's lithe frame contrasted with Archer's larger build; Robin's chest and shoulders were quite broad and well-proportioned, but he was leaner than Guy had seen him on the first day of his return from the Crusade.

Robin flashed a smile as his eyes met Guy's. "Now you look like Guy of Gisborne."

Guy smirked. "And you look like Robin Hood."

"Always," Robin retorted with a merry laugh.

"When did you return?" Guy looked between Robin and Archer.

"Several minutes ago," Robin responded.

"I fell in love with Sherwood while I was hunting for rabbits and squirrels for the dinner," Archer shared his impression about the woods, grinning sheepishly.

Robin's lips stretched into a wide grin. "I began to love the forest in childhood. I often ran away from Locksley to Sherwood, sometimes at night. Much didn't know how to keep me out of trouble."

Archer flashed a sad smile. "Robin, you have good childhood memories."

"Archer, I didn't mean to sadden you," Robin said compassionately.

"It is not your fault, Robin," Archer spoke in a tight voice. Thoughts of their father made him almost sick with disgust. "I was a fool to blame you for growing up in poverty."

Robin flashed a smile and sighed. "It is over. Forget it."

Guy wondered what the relationship between Archer and Robin was like; he was shocked by the news that Archer was Malcolm's illegitimate son. "I think that you can share your childhood memories later."

"I didn't ask you to interfere, Gisborne," Robin commented distastefully.

Guy ignored Robin's reprimand. "Djaq told me that you wanted to take me somewhere, Locksley."

"Yes." Robin's face became serious. "My friends are preparing everything for our departure tomorrow. We… are going to have… an interesting evening."

"What are you intending to do?" Guy inquired.

"We will have an important conversation, if Robin wants this," Archer said cautiously.

Robin shook his head approvingly. "Yes, I do want that. Gisborne has the right to know."

Archer nodded with a smile. "I agree."

Guy raised a surprised brow. "What do you mean?"

"Just follow me," Robin instructed. "I will explain everything soon."

"Very well," Guy consented.

Robin and Archer began to walk away, and Guy trailed behind them. Soon they arrived at Dead Man's Crossing, where Robin took a turn towards one of the numerous serpentine forest paths, motioning the two other men to follow him. Robin led Archer and Guy into the depths of the forest, moving through a maze of forest paths, each of which took many turns and twists, although they were walking along the river.

Soon they stopped near the cottage, and Guy noticed dark looks cross Robin and Archer's faces. Guy thought that it could have been one of the outlaws' hideouts, but the nervousness and anxiety of the two other men meant that Robin had led them to this secluded place for a reason.

"Stay here until I return. Then you will enter," Robin told Guy and Archer.

Guy frowned. "Locksley, what are you planning?"

Archer was amazed. "Why do you need it to go there alone first, Robin?"

"Just do what I ask," Robin said dismissively.

Archer nodded. "As you wish, Robin."

"Fine," Guy said, annoyed with Robin's secrecy.

"I won't make you wait for long." Robin turned around and entered the cottage.

Guy stared at the door that Robin had slammed shut just a moment ago. "What is going on?"

"Wait and see," Archer said quietly.

"Robin is not feeling well," Guy voiced his opinion. "Will he be able to lead his men?" He saw the stiffness of Robin's movements, which bespoke some sort of discomfort Robin was experiencing.

Archer nodded but smiled wryly. "Robin doesn't feel well, but we have Djaq to help him. And he is Robin Hood! How can he be unable to lead?"

Guy rolled his eyes. "You speak like Robin!"

"I am his brother," Archer replied. "How are you feeling, Guy? You were imprisoned for many months."

"Indeed, I was," Guy said in such a monodic voice that Archer's heart squeezed painfully. "It was not… easy, but I had a lot of time to brood over my life and my mistakes." He paused, pondering whether he should continue; then he went on. "I was behind the bars, and I cannot say I liked that."

"I have never been imprisoned, but I think that it must be terrible."

"Yes, it is so," Guy murmured. "I understand how much prisoners, including Robin, suffered in the sheriff's dungeons. I will do everything to save others from punishment and torture."

"I am glad you are alive, Guy."

"You are most kind, Archer." Guy didn't quite comprehend why Archer was concerned about him.

In the next moment, the door flung open, and Robin appeared at the doorway. He closed the door and looked towards Archer and Guy. "You can enter."

Guy turned puzzled eyes from Archer to Robin. "Whom will I see there, Locksley?"

"Gisborne, there is something you don't know," Robin gave a cryptic reply.

Archer sighed. "It is something extremely important."

Guy eyed his companions suspiciously. "What?"

Robin was nervous. Making his voice as steady as it can be, he said, "I asked Richard to tell you the truth, and he granted my request. But there is something you don't know."

Dead silence greeted Robin's statement. When Guy at last deigned to speak, his face was utterly confused. "What else don't I know?"

Archer eyed both Robin and Guy curiously, but he said nothing.

"Patience," Robin said curtly.

Guy regarded Robin. Robin's expression was guarded, but a slight hitch in his voice betrayed his nervousness. Guy couldn't quite make out if it was a premonition of some sort or discomfort. "I don't think that something will shock me more than… the facts I already know."

Robin smirked darkly. "Don't hurry to make conclusions."

Guy's brows knitted in a frown. "What?"

"You will realize in a few moments," Robin's enigmatic reply came.

Robin spun around and entered the cottage; Archer and Guy went inside as well.

At the sound of the door opening, the hooded man stood up and stared at three guests. In the glowing candlelight, Malcolm's lean figure seemed serpent-like, and, as he removed his hood and showed his scarred face to the audience, his eyes glittered as he locked his gaze with Guy's.

"No," Guy whispered to himself. He recognized the hooded man as the person who had wounded Allan today. He studied the strange man closely, thinking that reminded him of someone who had long departed from earth. He veered his gaze to Robin, whose expression turned apologetic, and, suddenly, understanding struck him. "It cannot be true," he murmured.

Robin nodded at Guy. "Yes."

"No," Guy repeated.

Archer shrugged. "We told you that it is… something… someone very special."

"Unfortunately, he has to hide because it is not safe for him to appear in broad daylight," Robin made an attempt to jest, but he failed to dissolve the growing tension.

"Are you kidding me, Locksley?" Guy nearly screamed, scowling.

"It is no joke," Robin said seriously.

Looking at Malcolm, Guy found himself in a state of complete shock, as if he had just been hit full in the face by something totally spellbinding. "Now I understand many things." He looked away, his jaw clenched as sombrous memories flooded him. He finally realized how King Richard had learned so many details about the private lives of Malcolm of Locksley, and Ghislaine and Roger of Gisborne.

Robin nodded. "I am sure you can make appropriate conclusions, Gisborne."

Guy exhaled in a heavy sigh. "So it is what I wasn't told in Acre, Locksley."

"What do you imply?" Archer inquired, curious.

"Nothing," Guy dismissed Archer's further questions.

"Gisborne, you are playing with fire," Robin hissed, his lips pulling back into a snarl. "A word of advice: choose your words carefully. Now you know what it means to be incarcerated for months, but there are worse things… It is better to be handcuffed by a certain promise than to languish in prison or die an untimely death."

Archer looked baffled, swiveling his gaze from Robin to Guy back and forth.

For a moment, Guy looked troubled; then his face revealed a touch of embarrassment. "I know." He knew that if the truth about Robin's true parentage slipped from his tongue, he would end up dead.

"I pray you understand the grave seriousness of the situation, Gisborne," Malcolm murmured, frowning and pushing his fingers through his grizzled hair. "You must keep your mouth shut."

"I don't wish any harm to anyone," Guy said truthfully.

Robin gave Guy an epigrammatic look. "It is quite a considerable sacrifice for you, Gisborne."

"I have had enough of your mockery today, Locksley!" Guy parried with a growl.

"Oh, they are bickering," Archer muttered more to himself than to others.

"Robin and Guy, you are grown-up men, but you behave like two boys," Malcolm broke in, staring at Gisborne. "Guy, you hated Robin almost for nothing for so many years, and you tried to take his life many times. Do you still wish Robin dead? Do you still hate my son?"

Guy shook his head. "I no longer hate Robin."

"Very good." Malcolm shifted his gaze to Robin, then, his eyes shimmering with a bittersweet feeling as he said quietly, "Robin, you hated Guy for murdering me, when you believed that I had died in the fire. Do you still hate Guy now, when you know the truth?"

"I don't hate Gisborne, but he will never become my friend," Robin proclaimed with conviction. His gaze flickered to Guy and then back to his father. "Guy and I have already discussed the terms and conditions of our alliance." He smiled smugly. "Guy should get accustomed to my mockery and teasing, for our arguments entertain me a lot."

Guy muttered a curse under his breath and growled, "Locksley, you can go to hell, but I won't be a target for teasing and mocking, as you called me in the morning."

Archer giggled. "Your verbal duels are amusing."

Guy huffed in annoyance. "So very amusing that I want to punch Hood."

"I thought that you liked our little mocking skirmishes, Gisborne," Robin said in mock amazement.

Guy frowned. "You are too full of yourself and conceited, Locksley."

"Conceited?" Robin inquired laconically.

Guy nodded and supplemented, "You are also vain. Quite vain."

Robin laughed and gave a snarky response. "At least I am not as cynical and selfish as you, Sir Guy of Gisborne. So cynical and selfish, as well as cruel, that you failed to earn the respect of the populace during three years and four winters you spent in Nottingham before my return." An infuriating grin appeared on his face. "This time, it is not mockery, decorated with flowers, but a statement of fact!"

Guy would have shaken Robin savagely if he didn't want to continue their conversation. "I am already fed up, Robin of Locksley," he said in a disgruntled tone. "I told you today that I wouldn't tolerate it!"

"This time, you began a quarrel," Robin commented, grinning at Guy who averted his gaze.

Malcolm watched and listened to Robin with an admiring smile on his face, thinking that his eldest son had Queen Eleanor's sharp wit. "Robin, you are as witty as your mother… was."

A long paused followed, and then Robin laughed. "Actually, I am proud of that."

"You are proud, Locksley?" Guy asked a bit hoarsely, astonished that he could find his voice at all. He had thought that Robin, an arrogant man who was proud of his Saxon heritage, would have found it hard to accept that the young Earl of Huntingdon was a bastard, but he had been mistaken.

Robin gave a nod. "Yes, I am."

Disbelief rose up in Guy's heart, but meeting Robin's twinkling eyes dispelled any doubts about the truth in his words. "Congratulations, Locksley."

"You are being unusually kind and gallant, Gisborne. I really need time to get accustomed to you," Robin said with undisguised irony, shifting his gaze to his father. "I think that we are going to have a difficult and frank conversation." A tiny spear of anxiety prodded him, but he managed to get a hold of his emotions. "Do you wish to take a seat?"

Archer and Guy nodded wordlessly. Robin eased down comfortably in the same chair where he had been sitting some time ago, talking to his father. Malcolm settled in a chair near the window, and Archer landed on one of the two benches near Robin. Only Guy remained standing, leaning against a nearby wall and staring at the man who had once been his mother's lover. The moment of truth finally came, and there was no way back.

"Guy and Archer, you have to know something about your mother," Malcolm began, breaking the silence. "It is something that you probably won't like to learn."

"What?" Guy raised a brow, looking between Archer and Malcolm. "What are you talking about?"

Archer looked at Guy, his eyes serious, his hand folded over his chest. "Guy, I informed you that I am Robin's half-brother. But I didn't tell you that I am… also your half-brother."

"It is true," Malcolm confirmed. "Archer is your half-brother, Guy. He is my and Ghislaine's son."

To Robin and Archer's amazement, Guy's expression shifted, but not to shock or anger. Instead, Guy threw back his head, and a rumble of bitter laughter poured forth. When it had passed, he gazed at Malcolm. "Once I saw my mother heading to the forest, and I followed her." He sighed heavily. "She still loved my father…" He trailed off, finding it difficult to call Roger of Gisborne his father. "I was so angry. She told me that I had to forget him and pretend that he didn't exist."

"And what happened next?" Archer questioned.

Guy sighed, feeling chagrined and simultaneously agitated. This old story brought back too many conflicted emotions – pain for the loss of his mother and Roger of Gisborne, hatred for Malcolm, and regret that everything had gone so wrong on the day of the fire. Nervous tension gripped his heart to the extreme, as if to recoup him for the unnecessary expense of emotions. "I found my mother in the woods, and we talked. I asked her to go back to Normandy, but she said that she would marry you, Lord Malcolm." He paused, his expression darkening. He despised Malcolm of Locksley, but he was still addressing to the old man in a formal way. "And then mother fell to the ground, clutching her stomach. She implored me to run to Locksley and get help. I had never run so fast."

"What happened to Lady Ghislaine?" Robin muttered breathlessly.

"She was in labor," Malcolm announced. "Archer, Ghislaine gave birth to you that night. You arrived in the world early, but you were a robust and healthy child." He looked down, at his boots. "We decided to take you to a safe place until Ghislaine and I could marry and take you to the manor. But we–"

"But you never married," Archer finished for him.

"We had no chance to marry," Malcolm accented. "The fire at Gisborne Manor ruined our plans."

Guy sneered, looking at Malcolm with contempt. "But you survived and escaped."

Malcolm adopted a tone of determined boldness. "I couldn't return – I had no right to return. I was badly injured, and my face… was scarred." A strangled laugh erupted from his throat, and he blinked back the moisture from his eyes. "And I had to disappear because it was the only option for me after the fire." His eyes pierced Guy's face. "Robin said that you, Gisborne, know… something… You should understand why I couldn't come back, although I wanted to be with my son."

Guy nodded. "I know, Lord Malcolm. There was no way back to a normal life for you."

Malcolm's expression was miserable. "I had long resigned to live in shadows."

"So," Archer interjected, "there is something you are hiding from me."

"Archer, don't ask anything," Robin recommended.

"Why are you doing this to me?" Archer clamored. "I have been kept in the dark for too long. I have never known who my parents are, and now you are saying that I have no right to learn everything."

"Archer, you are putting a lot of pressure on us," Robin snapped, clearly irritated. "If we don't tell you something, it means that you don't need to know it for your own sake and that it doesn't concern you."

"But, Robin, you–" Archer persisted.

Robin cut Archer off. "God's teeth, Archer, stop asking questions I won't answer!"

"But it is something very important, right?" Archer continued with a note of interrogation in his voice.

Robin was silent for a brief moment. Then, with a tip of his head, he acknowledged Archer's comment. "Archer, there are things in our past that concern only our father, Gisborne, and me." He sighed at the sight of his younger half-brother's disappointed look. "Believe me that it is for your own sake."

"Archer, these things are not related to you or your birth," Guy asserted. "Believe me that if Robin says that you shouldn't know that, then you shouldn't know that."

"They are right, Archer. You don't need to know everything," Malcolm said softly.

Archer gave a nod, resigned. "You have won. I am as silent as a grave."

Robin diverted his attention from Archer to Guy. "All this time, you, Gisborne, knew that my father and your mother… were lovers. But did you know that your mother was pregnant?"

"I didn't know. I was young, not experienced enough to assume it was possible," Guy supplied.

Robin pulled his gaze from the dark-haired man to Malcolm, his eyes blazing with anger. "When did you plan to tell me awesome news about your nuptials, Father? I never knew about your affair with Lady Ghislaine; not until I found your diary, from which I also learned about Archer's existence."

Malcolm had the decency to look embarrassed. "I am sorry, Robin."

"I should have been told, Father!" Robin cried out in indignation.

Guy snickered. Suddenly, he wanted to pay Robin back for Robin's earlier sarcastic assault. "Locksley, that was extremely shoddy of you! Maybe you will write a letter of complaint to your beloved villagers, who love you so much and will undoubtedly be sympathetic with their hero." He gave a glare at Robin. "You hold it against Lord Malcolm that he didn't tell you anything, but for once, I agree with your father. You were a seven-year-old boy, mischievous, naughty, and wild. You wouldn't have understood why your father wanted to marry another woman and bring her children to your home."

"Gisborne, I might forget my promise to be civil with you!" Robin rapped out. "And you always envied me. I was disobedient and fun-loving, but everyone loved me for my mischievous ways; other children sought my company. You were a somber, dull boy, whom few people in the village liked."

"Robin and Guy, shut up!" Archer admonished.

"I will say to Gisborne whatever I want," Robin fired back.

"And so will I," Guy stated.

"You are impossible!" Archer exclaimed, grinning. "But the two of you are worthy of my attention!"

Robin and Guy looked at one another and then rolled their eyes at Archer.

Malcolm observed Robin talking to Guy in a mocking manner. He had never liked Guy, even in childhood. When he had wanted to marry Ghislaine, whom he truly loved, he had regretted that he would have to take Guy to Locksley Manor. But he loved Ghislaine and was ready to overlook his resentment towards Guy. After Roger of Gisborne had brought troubles upon them and after he had learned that Guy had almost murdered Robin in Acre in the Saracen attack, he began to loathe Guy wholeheartedly. Now Malcolm relished in the knowledge that Robin didn't like Guy.

Malcolm leaned back against his chair, holding himself rigid as he fought to bring his emotions under control and make his expression blank instead of a mocking one. "Robin said the truth about Guy's personality. But there is something else," he said, his voice high and tight. "Unfortunately, Guy and Isabella were never liked in Locksley and Nottingham. The reason was that Ghislaine was a Norman widow, whom a few people wanted to see as the Lady of Gisborne Manor. Ghislaine was respected in the shire, but she was a foreigner in Nottingham because of her Norman roots."

Robin was staring into the flames as he reminisced. He hadn't liked Guy in childhood only because Guy had been one of the very few people in Locksley who hadn't loved and adored him, instead being always annoyed with his tricks and pranks. After the fire, he had started hating Guy for his father's murder, and his hatred had strengthened after he had learned about Guy's attempt on the king's life and after Gisborne's marriage to Marian. But now everything was different – his hatred was gone.

Archer cringed at Malcolm's words, but he chose to refrain from commenting. He was growing to dislike Malcolm more and more with every minute as he listened to his father's speeches.

"You wanted to help my mother, Lord Malcolm? How noble of you!" Guy said trenchantly. Displeasure spilled from him in waves, and he fixed a black stare on the old man. "I trust it was a matter of supreme importance for you to help her improve her reputation by seducing her."

Malcolm glared at Guy. "You may think whatever you want, Gisborne," he parried coldly. "It is true that I tried to make the life of the Gisbornes during Roger's absence more comfortable, helping your mother because you were young and inexperienced and, thus, couldn't administer the Gisborne estate. I did my best to make other villagers friendlier, but there were too many Saxons around and so few Normans at that time; my mission was doomed to failure." He sighed. "But I will lie if I say that I did that for you, for I helped Ghislaine because I loved her. I also liked Isabella."

Guy nodded. "I have to confess that I have never liked you, Lord Malcolm. The thought of having you as my stepfather made me sick." He despised Robin's father, with all his heart.

"Watch your tongue, Gisborne," Robin advised in a harsh voice. "Don't forget what Roger of Gisborne did to my family."

Archer sighed. He gave up asking questions, but he wondered what had happened between his father, his mother, and Guy's father. He hated that his half-brothers talked in riddles, apparently trying to further obfuscate the real reason for their allusive communication.

"Locksley, I don't approve of what he did," Guy said in a challenging tone, "but at least you are not the one whose father was replaced only days after he had been proclaimed dead."

Robin didn't flinch under Guy's unsavory gaze. "Sir Roger of Gisborne should have been exiled from Locksley! He was dying from leprosy! He could have infected everyone in Locksley and in Nottingham!"

"How dare you say this, Locksley!" Guy shouted, his voice catching with the force of anguish mingled with rage which assaulted him at the memories of the Gisbornes' disgrace. "He was dying!"

"Gisborne, think more," Robin confronted in a chilly voice, with a note of deep disdain towards Roger. "Even ignoring what Sir Roger of Gisborne did to the Huntingdons, we cannot say that the decision to banish him from Locksley and Nottinghamshire was unfair." He swept his eyes over the room, his eyes fixing on his father. "I don't understand why on the day of the fire Sir Roger suddenly arrived in Locksley, knowing that he was dying and that he could cause more deaths." He shrugged. "Was it a deliberate action, foolishness, or irresponsibility?"

"He came to my mother. He wanted to reconcile with her," Guy said quietly. "He needed her!"

"But did he think of his family when he came back?" Malcolm questioned. "I understand that he wanted to spend his last months in comfort with his relatives, but he brought a mortal disease to his family!"

"He was dying! He needed comfort and the company of his family in his last days!" Guy persisted in the defense of the man whom he had once called his father.

Robin directed a hard glare on Guy, fighting against a red haze of anger that threatened to descend and suffocate him; he always became angry when he remembered the events in the days after the fire. "Gisborne, there were several cases of leprosy in Locksley after the fire. Several people, who served at Gisborne Manor, contracted leprosy; they were banished to leper colonies, and their families lost them." He raised an eyebrow. "Where could they catch leprosy?"

"My God," Guy muttered, turning away and looking at the only window in the cottage. He noticed that it had already been dark outside, and the moon dimmed behind clouds blown across it.

"I have to agree with Robin," Archer joined the conversation. "Guy, Robin told me the story about your childhood, and I know why you and Isabella were banished from Locksley." He sighed, for he was sure that Guy wouldn't like what he was going to say. "If Sir Roger was infected with leprosy, he mustn't come back to a densely populated village."

Malcolm was delighted that the opinions of his two sons concurred. He gave Robin and Archer a look of affection; then he turned to Guy. "Gisborne, there was a risk that you and Isabella could have been infected with leprosy, but Roger didn't care about that." He pointed a finger at Guy. "Ghislaine, Isabella, and you, Guy, could have been easily banished from Nottinghamshire after your father had been declared dead; but I defended your family."

Robin sighed deeply before he spoke. "Now tell me, Gisborne, why did other people have to pay for Sir Roger's mistakes? What do you think?"

Guy was at a loss, feeling worse than being disconcerted under the force of the argument Robin had raised. He sat still, unwilling to admit that Robin, Archer, and Malcolm were probably right.

"Nothing to say, Gisborne?" Robin pressed on. "Or will you still blame only my father?"

Guy gazed Robin, the unrest in his expression dissipating under the force of loathing he felt for Malcolm of Locksley. "I can understand Malcolm from… practical reasons, but I have no doubt that he wanted to get rid of my father who was unfortunate to return from the Holy Land to his family."

"Guy, I wasn't pleased with your father's return," Malcolm acknowledged. As his mind drifted back to the tragedy, his expression changed into vulnerability and torment, and he seemed to be struggling to keep his control. "I had a sort of bad foreboding in the days prior to the fire. And I was correct."

"I can understand that, though with difficulty," Guy admitted, albeit grudgingly. "Roger of Gisborne committed an act of high treason in the Holy Land. He was captured and spent many years in jail, while we were convinced that he fought for the liberation of Jerusalem and was a war hero."

Archer frowned, looking at Guy with unspoken condemnation. "Again treachery in the Holy Land!"

Guy scowled at Archer. "He was captured and tortured; then he gave away an important secret about the location of the Christian forces. As a result, many Norman knights were killed in an unexpected Saracen raid." He sighed. "I can somehow justify him because he was tortured."

"Well, it is complicated." Archer merely shrugged.

Guy smiled broken-heartedly. "It is."

"Guy," Malcolm addressed Gisborne in an unusually soft voice, "I didn't wish Roger of Gisborne dead, and I didn't hate him until… You know what I mean."

Guy nodded. "I do know. There is no need to elaborate."

Suddenly, Malcolm started panting with breaths as he coughed. Then he was silent for some time, trying to catch his breath. "I persuaded Ghislaine to let Bailiff Longthorn and the villagers banish Roger of Gisborne." He trailed off for a moment, his expression pained. "But I never meant to cause harm of any kind to the Gisbornes, even though I wasn't very fond of you, Guy. I loved Ghislaine and I would–" His voice was cut off with a choking inhalation, succeeded by wracking coughs.

"Are you alright, Father?" Robin asked in a concerned tone.

Guy gave Malcolm an indifferent look, for he didn't care for the old man at all. Archer's face showed some emotion at the sight of his father's deteriorating health, but he swiftly glanced away.

"I am fine," Malcolm lied. "I just caught a cold."

"Don't worry, Father," Robin said softly as he climbed to his feet and stalked towards his father. "I will take care of you, but… you cannot return." He sank to one knee, staring into his father's pale blue eyes. "I will find a place for you, where you will live comfortably. I will think of something."

"Robin, my Robin," Malcolm gasped as he exhaled. He broke into a violent cough again.

Concern etched into his face, Robin stroked Malcolm's back in an attempt to soothe his father, feeling that he was on the verge of a breakdown. Whatever happened between them, he still had some affection for his father, even if he couldn't say that he loved and respected Malcolm. "Do you feel better now? Do you need anything?" he inquired as Malcolm's cough subsided.

"No, thank you, Son. I need nothing," Malcolm replied gratefully, with a weak smile on his face. He raised his hand and traced the contours of Robin's face with his finger; tears filled his eyes. "Robin, I still cannot believe… that you are alive." His voice was cracking. "When I heard that you had died, I thought that… part of me died as well. I always tried to protect you, always."

"Father, I am alive," Robin whispered, his heart aching for Malcolm. "I am not dead."

Malcolm's cheeks were wet from the tears streaming down his face. "Robin, you are so dear to me," he said with deep fondness. "There are no words to describe how happy I am that you are alive!"

§§§

Watching Malcolm's interaction with Robin, Archer bounced to his feet and instinctively recoiled as if he had been struck by fists too swift to be evaded. He stood rigid, his fists clenched, but his expression was impassive. Bitterness, envy, jealousy, sorrow, grief, loathing, and hatred – Malcolm's exchange with Robin awakened all these feelings in his heart all at once. He was trying to keep himself tightly under control, but anger was gradually overwhelming him. He glanced away and swallowed hard, shaking his head; he took a step back towards the window.

Archer felt a gentle hand on his shoulder. He swung around, and his eyes locked with Guy's. "What do you want, Guy?" He didn't want to talk; his mood was as ebony as the night outside.

"I am sorry that you have to watch this," Guy said compassionately.

"It is not Robin's fault," Archer responded in a confident tone. "It is only Malcolm's fault."

"Robin could have been more considerate towards your feelings."

Archer shook his head. "Robin has a noble heart. He could have treated our father rudely, but he still feels sympathetic with him."

"Yes. Robin is quite forgiving of Lord Malcolm."

Archer pursed his lips. "I have always been on my own. I have never had a father, and I grew up an orphan," he said quietly, observing Robin soothing Malcolm – Robin's hand was making circles on Malcolm's back as the old man again broke into a cough. "I lived in an orphanage in York until I turned twelve. Everybody called me a peasant brat, for I have never known that a bastard of two nobles. I had known nothing about my parents until Malcolm found me in Constantinople." He emitted a heavy sigh. "I have never known what father's love is."

Guy looked at his newly found half-brother, feeling his heart skip a beat at the pain he saw in Archer's eyes. "I am sorry that you grew up an orphan. I am sorry for troubles that befell you."

Archer's lips thinned into a hard line, and he hissed, "I blame only one man – my own father."

Guy nodded. "Yes, it is not Robin's fault."

"I have always wanted to know why my parents abandoned me," Archer continued, tearing his gaze from Guy and staring into the darkness outside. "At least now I know that Malcolm planned to marry our mother, but the fire changed everything."

"Many things could have gone differently."

Archer cast a contemptuous gaze at Malcolm who was still conversing quietly with Robin. "But my father survived, fled, and was in hiding for years. He left in an orphanage, and for that I hate him."

"Your feelings are understandable, Archer."

Archer's face lit up with a smile. "During the months we spent together, I grew to love Robin."

Guy's brows rose in surprise. "Really?"

Archer inclined his head in confirmation. "Robin treated me with the kindness which I don't deserve after siding with Prince John and Vaisey," he stated as his eyes held Guy's. "But he listened to my story and understood my motives after I had told him about my meeting with Malcolm in Constantinople." He smiled affectionately in the direction of Robin. "Robin is an amazing man."

Guy was really surprised that Archer had such deep affection for Robin. "I don't know him well enough. I believe that Robin still loathes me, although today he said that misjudged me."

"No, you are wrong: Robin doesn't hate and despise you. He is relatively indifferent to you."

"Indifferent?"

"Now Robin is indifferent to many things, and he doesn't deal with the things which can be postponed for a future. He must be focused; he cannot afford to squander his strengths recklessly."

"But no matter how you spell it, Robin dislikes me a lot."

Archer cocked his head, his lips curling up into a small smile. "Robin revels in teasing you, but you are not the only one whom he treats this way. He mocks not only his enemies but also his friends."

Guy supplied angrily, "He may be so infuriating. He takes pleasure in reminding me of my mistakes."

"Robin hasn't forgiven you yet," Archer said quietly. "And he is very cautious with you."

"I don't need Robin's forgiveness. I need to forgive myself for many vile deeds, including for my attempts on King Richard's life, for trying to murder Robin, and for killing people at the sheriff's order."

Guy didn't need Robin's friendship; he had no doubt that they would never be friends. Yet, he wanted to gain Robin's respect and liked the idea of developing some sort of camaraderie between the legend of England and him. In too many ways, Robin was everything that Guy dreamt of being but would never be, and his feelings of envy and jealousy would probably never ebb away – if they would, he would be astonished. But nobody needed to know that; he would keep this secret in the sanctuary of his soul.

Archer gave Guy a long look; then he broke into a ringing laughter. "During our journey to Acre, I took a liking to you, Guy. You are not a bad man."

A feeling of surprise and disbelief swept through Guy. "I can hardly believe you, Archer. Are you acting like Robin: are you kidding me and making jest of serious things?"

Archer winked at him. "I have no reason to lie to you."

"Then I want to believe you."

"You should," Archer replied teasingly. "I will be glad to talk to you more often."

"And so will I." Warmth filled Guy's anguished and tortured heart. Guy was delighted to learn that he had another half-brother – Archer. To his utter surprise, he had been saddened by King Richard's cold and hostile attitude towards him in Acre, for Richard was his brother who apparently despised him. Richard would never have a deep affection for Guy, Isabella hated him wholeheartedly, but at least now Guy had another chance to establish a friendly relationship with one of his half-brothers.

Robin and Malcolm continued talking while Archer and Guy watched the two other men.

Robin uttered a long sigh. Feelings of pity and sorrow for his father's misfortunes flooded him, but he still was confused with his feelings. He swung his gaze to Archer and saw the poorly hidden pain in his brother's eyes, realizing that the tender scene between him and Malcolm hurt Archer.

"Father, I promise you that everything will be alright." Robin's voice was tight.

"You are being optimistic, Robin." Malcolm's tear-stained eyes were locked with Robin's. His heart leaped in his chest at the sight of concern shining in his son's eyes; he knew that Robin had been pleased to see him alive. "Don't worry about me. Worry about yourself."

Malcolm was going to say something else, but he again started coughing, a harsh, wracking sound from deep in his body. Still remaining on one knee, Robin wrapped his arm around Malcolm's back.

"Father, you are sick," Robin said, concern visible on his face, which he was no longer able to conceal despite his ambivalent feelings for Malcolm. "I will ask Djaq to examine you. She is an experienced physician; she saved my life, and she will be able to help you."

"It matters not, Son. I am old, and I may die any day, perhaps even today," Malcolm answered.

Robin frowned. "You shouldn't speak so."

"Twice I attempted to take my own life," Malcolm confided to his eldest son, lowering his head. "But I was a coward to commit suicide because I feared hellfire. I had to go on living, hating myself."

Robin shook his head disapprovingly, and Archer, who had also heard Malcolm's confession, stared at his father with wide eyes full of pity. Guy smirked, satisfied that Malcolm was suffering.

Robin cleared his throat. "We haven't finished yet." He rose to his feet and returned to his chair.

"We haven't," Guy echoed.

Archer took a log in the corner and threw it in the hearth to keep the fire burning and the room warm. The night was chilly, and the cold wind howled loudly outside the small cottage, shaking trees violently.

Archer returned to the window and stopped next to Guy. "It won't be cold here."

Robin turned his eyes to Archer. "Thank you, Archer."

"You are welcome, Robin," Archer said with a cordial smile on his face; but his smile changed into a grimace of revulsion as he glanced at Malcolm. "I don't care for this man who calls himself my father. I have no reason to like and respect him, and I have no obligation to him." He smiled again. "But I care for you, Robin. You may feel worse in cold English climate, and we need you healthy and strong."

"Thank you, brother," Robin told Archer in a heartfelt tone. He stared at Malcolm for a moment before he released a sigh and looked back at Archer. "But I think that you should care at least a little for the man without whom you would have never been born. He is your father, after all!"

"And why should I care for him?" Archer started pacing the room. "I know that this man lost everything – his wife, his friends, his children, and every penny in the world, but it is only his fault."

"This man is your father," Robin repeated with more emphasis.

"Lord Malcolm abandoned Archer many years ago, and he lost the right to call Archer his son," Guy entered the conversation. "Even though he had to hide, he could have taken a better care of Archer. He could have arranged that the boy was taken to the Locksley household even after his fake death."

Malcolm glanced away, staring into the flames. He was totally ashamed of himself.

"I am not interested in your opinion, Gisborne," Robin nearly shouted. "It is only between Archer and my father."

"It is my deal because Archer is my half-brother!" Guy protested.

"Shut up, you scum!" Robin said through clenched teeth. "I may remind you of your own crimes! In the Holy Land, you almost committed blasphemy – twice! I stopped you in time!"

The reference to two regicides in Acre sent Guy over the cliff of insanity. He wasn't a pious man, but he still believed that killing a brother was blasphemy. "Keep your mouth shut, Locksley!" he screamed. "I won't obey you when we are not on a battlefield!"

"Stop! Stop right now!" Archer roared.

Robin gazed away, and an acid smile curved his lips. A twinge of anger stirred in Guy's heart as his eyes registered Robin's smile, but he shook his head and worked to suppress his anger.

Archer raised a brow. "Now tell me, Robin, why did you accuse Guy of blasphemy?"

Malcolm took it upon himself to reply. "Robin means that a regicide is a blasphemous act."

"Ah, I see," Archer breathed. "I don't believe that kings are God incarnates on earth. However, I agree that killing a king is not the right thing to do; it is a grave crime."

Guy sneered. "Archer, you are speaking like Robin."

"At least he is not like you, Gisborne," Robin retorted, frowning at Guy.

For a while, Guy, Robin, and Archer didn't speak, each of them looking at Malcolm of Locksley. Each of them experienced a strange feeling of indissoluble bond forming between them, which puzzled them.

Silence blanketed the room. As it became much darker in the cottage, Robin asked Archer to lit up two candles; then Archer himself seated himself on the bench, waiting for someone to break the silence. Guy continued standing near the window, looking at Malcolm with slightly narrowed eyes.

Malcolm glanced at his youngest son. "Archer," he called, the bitterness of what still needed to be said difficult to bear. "I am guilty of abandoning you, Son. I left you in an orphanage, intending to adopt you after marrying Ghislaine, but I didn't do that." He paused for a moment, hesitating, and the guilt pushed him to continue. "I was badly burnt in the fire, and it took me months to recover." He sighed. "Then I could do something for you, Archer, but I didn't do anything for… a long time."

Archer eyed his father scornfully. "You say that you loved my mother, but you left me, her son, in an orphanage. You didn't care that I would grow up parentless and in poverty!"

"Archer, I did nothing for many years, but then–" Malcolm's voice broke off, shame tinting his posture as he hung head. "My old friend, Sir Edward Fitzwalter of Knighton, knew about you. He acted as Robin's legal guardian after my death, raising Robin as his own son. He also offered me to take you from an orphanage to Locksley or to one of my estates in Huntingdonshire. Edward thought that we could make up a story that you were my illegitimate son not with Ghislaine, but with another woman."

"And you refused," Archer inferred.

Malcolm lifted his eyes and glanced at Archer, guilt engraved into each and every line of his wrinkled face. "I had to abandon you," he forced the words out. "Archer, everything I did at that moment was necessary for Robin. It was dangerous to bring you to Locksley and any other estate of mine, while Bailiff Longthorn was alive and while–" He trailed off, for he couldn't say that he had feared to place Robin's life in danger during the reign of King Henry II. He was searching for a sign of understanding on Archer's face, but he could see only disdain. "You don't know everything. You cannot know."

"You didn't want me as a son," Archer continued coldly.

Guy and Robin didn't interfere, allowing Archer and Malcolm to sort out their differences.

"Archer," Malcolm said, his voice catching with the force of his guilt and anguish, "please don't say this! I loved you even when I left you in an orphanage." His gaze shifted to Robin. "I did that for Robin."

Robin cast his eyes down. He felt guilty, very guilty – for all the times when someone was sacrificed to give him a peaceful life of a rich earl and ascertain his safety. Guy's wellbeing and good prospects for a possible future had been sacrificed by Queen Eleanor and King Richard, and Archer had been deprived of his family and had been condemned to poverty and vagabondage. Many other people had been murdered at Eleanor and Richard's orders in order to hide the dark mysteries of the past. The secret of his true birth damned too many people to unhappiness and sufferings, Robin mused with bitterness.

"Damn you, I am fed up! Stop speaking in riddles!" a baffled and exasperated Archer cried out.

"Archer, don't ask such questions because you won't get replies," Guy recommended, his voice apparently emotional. "Just take for granted that there were some important reasons why Lord Malcolm had to leave you in an orphanage. Even if I don't approve of his choice to leave you, Archer, I can understand why he did that. And he did that for Robin, although it is unfair to you."

Robin smiled at Guy shamefacedly. "Finally, we are in agreement, Gisborne."

Guy turned to Robin and smiled back bashfully. "For once, Locksley."

Archer couldn't just leave the topic. "Let me guess, you needed to protect Robin from someone."

"Enough," Malcolm said rudely, displeased with Archer's insistence. "As for abandoning you, Archer, I have to inform you that you were completely forgotten, as you put it, only during the first six years after your birth. Later Sir Edward of Knighton regularly traveled to York and gave money for you to a local priest; that priest served in the church located near that orphanage, as Edward told me."

"Sir Edward knew everything throughout all these years?" Guy wanted to know, although he knew the answer in advance; he remembered the conversation with Thornton and Bridget.

"Yes," Malcolm confirmed. "He… was helping me from the beginning."

Guy nodded. "That's exactly what I thought."

Archer snorted in amusement. "How very generous of you, Malcolm!"

Robin didn't know what to say. He knew about Edward's role in the preservation of the secret.

Malcolm's gaze stayed locked with Archer's. "Archer, I once visited you in an orphanage and brought money for you." He sighed. "You were a handsome boy, and I knew from first glance that I loved you. But I couldn't take you to Robin, and I couldn't be your father. So I gave money to that priest and left."

"I don't remember that," Archer murmured, not looking at his father.

Malcolm smiled wistfully. "Archer, you were a six-year-old boy when it happened," he said slowly, spelling every word with effort, for it was difficult for him to speak about his mistakes. "But one day Edward told me that you disappeared from an orphanage. It was rumored that you went to the East on a great adventure. And it was the moment when I decided to find you."

"Malcolm, don't repeat a sorrowful story which you told me in Constantinople," Archer grumbled, his expression browned off. "I know about your captivity in the Holy Land, where you spent several years before finding me." He laughed. "But even this heartrending story won't touch me."

Guy looked startled. "What? Captivity?"

"Yes," Malcolm corroborated. "I spent several years in Saracen captivity, at first somewhere near the fortress of Damascus and then in a village near Jerusalem. With God's help, I managed to escape. I traveled directly to the Byzantine Empire, where I also experienced many misfortunes." He sighed. "In Constantinople, I found Archer by sheer chance and told him the truth about his birth."

Archer gave a short nod. "This is exactly what happened." He cast an apologetic look at Robin. "And after I had learned the truth, I started to hate you, Robin, although later I understood my mistake."

Robin flashed a swift smile. "Archer, it is forgotten and forgiven." His gaze slid to Malcolm. "Father, how did the Saracens capture you? I fought in the Holy Land for more than five years in total, and it seems that you were so close to me while I knew nothing."

A wry smile lifted one corner of Malcolm's mouth. "Robin, you couldn't know anything. I also didn't know that you had joined King Richard's Crusade; I learned about that only after my return to England."

Guy scoffed. "It is a dark irony of fate!"

"Gisborne, I keep your opinion to yourself," Robin threw over his shoulder, his gaze flying from Guy to Malcolm. "How and why were you captured, Father?"

Malcolm was happy that at least one of his two sons began to treat him in a friendly way. "I made up my mind to find Archer. I traveled to Outremer in a pilgrim's disguise. I boarded a ship in Marseilles and sailed to the East." His face turned crestfallen at the memories flashing in his mind. "There was a violent storm near the shores of Tyre, and the ship was wrecked. I survived, and together with other survivors we made our way to the shore, praying and hoping for salvation. But on the shore, we were immediately attacked by the Saracens. We were shackled and became slaves."

"Not a pleasant experience," Guy commented frigidly.

Robin looked absolutely shocked. "Father, you… survived through hell."

"He did," Archer agreed in a dispassionate voice. "But he deserved what he got, didn't he?"

"I did deserve to suffer," Malcolm agreed.

Robin stared at Archer, his eyes glistening with condemnation. "Please do me a favor and stop being so mean, Archer. Don't forget that our father was trying to find you and do right by you!"

Archer gazed at Robin and said, "Robin, you know that I am tolerating Malcolm only because you asked me about that for one evening. There is nothing that can change my attitude towards this man."

Robin understood his brother's feelings. "At least be civil, please."

"I will," Archer pledged.

"Archer, I understand why you hate me; I accept it." Malcolm's heart twisted in pain at the thought that he had lost a chance to gain Archer's love. "But remember that I love you despite everything."

Archer glanced away. "It doesn't matter. It changes nothing."

Malcolm nodded, resigned that Archer would probably never warm up to him. They sat in a long, uncomfortable silence, punctuated by the crackling of the fire in the hearth. But Malcolm knew that his confessions were not finished for this evening.

"Guy and Archer," Malcolm addressed. "I want to tell you the truth about your mother's death."

Guy leaned against the wall, stiffening his back. "And what do we have to know? Our mother died in the fire, together with… my father." He clenched his teeth. "I dropped a torch, but the fire from the torch wasn't enough to burn down the manor. Bailiff Longthorn finished the deal by intimidating the villagers and pushing them to set the fire outside the manor. The bailiff was the real murderer."

"There is something else," Malcolm said quietly, looking down, on the floor.

"Explain what you mean." Archer's voice was low and all the more dangerous.

"What else are you hiding, Lord Malcolm? Some secrets in the woods?" Guy asked in a derisive snort.

"It is time to tell you the truth," Malcolm said, his voice tinged with self-loathing. "Please believe me that I loved Ghislaine. I always did; I always will…"

Guy scoffed. "But Ghislaine loved my father even was after his banishment from Locksley."

Malcolm sighed dejectedly. "I think that she loved him, but she also loved me."

Guy sneered. "Fantasies, Lord Malcolm?

"Shut up, Gisborne!" Robin commanded, his eyes shooting daggers towards Guy. His tone was almost deliberately coarse because he didn't like to see Guy insulting his father. "Do I need to bring to your attention some facts from your mother's biography?"

"There is no need, Locksley. I remember," Guy grumbled. It was very painful that his mother had two extramarital relationships and that he was a result of Ghislaine's liaison with King Henry.

"What do you mean?" Archer intervened. "If it concerns my mother, I want to know!"

Robin sighed, his gaze locked with Malcolm's, both men unsure what to answer. They kept silent.

Guy made a low sound of pain; turning away, he walked to the table and sank to one of the benches there. "Archer, our mother was King Henry's mistress before she married… my father. She was young and beautiful, and the king wooed her. She resisted his advances, but he was persistent and she gave in." He sighed heavily. "After the king had discarded her, her reputation was in tatters. It was when Queen Eleanor of Aquitaine married her off to Sir Roger of Gisborne, my father." He was again amazed how difficult it was to refer to Roger as his father.

Archer looked startled. "Well, I guess kings always get what they want."

"Precisely," Guy agreed. "But our mother, Ghislaine, had fallen in love with… my father, and we had lived as a happy family until he went to fight in the Holy Land. Then mother found consolation in Lord Malcolm's arms, believing that my father was dead."

A smile tugged at Archer's his lips. "Ghislaine is a beautiful name."

Guy smiled. "Our mother was beautiful, clever, and intelligent. She was very compassionate and kind to the peasants as well. She was a good woman, although she had her faults."

"I would love to know her," Archer said with a large grin on his face.

"I will tell her more about her," Guy promised.

Robin cleared his throat to attract attention to himself. "I believe father wanted to say something."

Guy and Archer turned to Malcolm, astounded to see the old man looking so uneasy. Deafening silence settled over them for a moment while Malcolm was mustering his courage to speak.

"On the night of the fire, something serious happened inside Gisborne Manor," Malcolm reminisced. "When the fire started, I sent Guy and Isabella out of the manor for their safety. Then I went upstairs to Ghislaine's bedchamber, intending to save her; but Roger was already there." His chest heaved with emotions he could hardly contain as he looked between Archer and Guy. "When Roger came, Ghislaine just gave birth to Archer and was very exhausted."

Guy clenched his fists. "I remember very well what you did, Lord Malcolm." He shook his head in disbelief. "I don't know who attacked whom, but I heard a hissing clash of metal as you fought with… my father. I wanted to throw you out of the manor, but I couldn't stay there because flames were licking up the wooden walls in the great hall. Isabella and I had to leave the house."

Robin looked at Malcolm apprehensively. "Father, you must tell us everything."

Malcolm was barely able to speak, gathering his last strengths to make a confession. "Roger and I were locked in a violent fight, while Ghislaine… begged us to stop." He paused, unable to speak. He bent down and put his head in his hands. Images of Ghislaine beseeching them to stop fighting and then of her falling to the floor began to leap and collide in his mind. He was sitting like this for a few long, agonizing moments, and when he finally raised his head and stared into the fire, everyone could see tears shimmering in his eyes. "Ghislaine tried to separate us and stood between Roger and me, and then I pushed her back." His voice sounded strange and rough in his ears.

"Go on," Archer demanded impatiently.

Guy glared at Malcolm, his heart pounding harder. Robin lowered his head in shame for his father.

Malcolm repeated, "Ghislaine stood between Roger and me, and I pushed her back," he repeated, looking at his hands folded over his chest. "She fell to the floor and hit her head – she was dead. It was an accident! I didn't mean to… kill her! I would have never hurt her deliberately!"

Malcolm's announcement was met with a deathly, inauspicious silence. Guy and Archer paled, shocked. Robin didn't find strength to look at his father. Shock possessed them, the numbness almost painful. Nobody dared utter a word, and the silence was becoming deafening. A rush of thoughts, feelings, and words swirled in their heads before suddenly and inexplicably falling into place – Malcolm of Locksley had accidentally killed Ghislaine of Gisborne, and that was something Robin, Archer, and Guy didn't expect to hear.

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I hope you truly enjoyed this chapter and the plot.

This chapter was about Robin, Archer, Guy, and Malcolm. We needed these three men to meet with Malcolm and talk about the past to sort out the existing differences and reveal other mysteries.

Robin saved Guy's life because it was the right thing to do, as he himself says. He is ready to accept Guy as one of his men who will fight for King Richard and against Prince John. However, Robin has no reason to love Guy and instantly forgive him. He doesn't trust Guy and their alliance is difficult for both of them, but I promise that Guy would prove himself as Robin's loyal and trustworthy ally. Robin is being sarcastic and mocks Guy, but it is in character for him; Guy responds in a similar manner, although Robin is more sarcastic and wins their verbal skirmishes in most cases. I promise that Guy's relationship with Robin will change: there will be camaraderie, competition, and easy banter between them once Robin begins to trust Guy and Guy gets accustomed to be Robin's ally.

This story/novel has a very sophisticated back story for Robin and Guy (you may refresh your memory by reading the summary of this back story in chapter 10 in "Quintessence of Life: Mysteries of the Past", the first part of the trilogy). Malcolm of Locksley, Roger of Gisborne, and Ghislaine of Gisborne are not saints, and each of them wronged the two others. Robin and Guy wronged one another as well, although I want to be bold and say that I think Guy wronged Robin much more than Robin wronged him. Now all the things are in the open between Robin and Guy, and they no longer hate each other.

I wonder what you think of Malcolm. He is not a bad man, but a coward who would have never become a man like Robin Hood. I also think that his fate is tragic, and I pity him despite his mistakes. I do hope that you liked Archer's conversation with Malcolm; Archer is not going to like his father anytime soon.

Maybe you have already noticed the changes in the character arcs of two main characters – the arcs of Robin and Guy – the disillusionment arc for Robin and the redemption arc for Guy.

Both Robin and Guy have changed a lot. Robin's death in Imuiz changed Robin, and he has become is a disillusioned and disappointed idealist. Robin is struggling to find the right path in his new life, after his resurrection, but it is not easy for him. You will see Robin struggle to accept reality and the fact that Robin Hood's cause is ultimately futile in this part of the trilogy. Guy has already stepped on the path to redemption, and I tried very hard to show the depth of changes in him after his imprisonment.

Reviews are always appreciated, including constructive criticism.

If you find any typos and/or mistakes here, please let me know about them in a private message.

Thank you for reading this chapter. I will be grateful for reviews.

Yours faithfully, Penelope Clemence