A/N - Thank enchantedsleeper for reminding me that this story still existed XD I've been working on other projects lately, and enjoying watching BBC's Robin Hood and making fanvids and fics for it, but I just got inspiration for this next part. Sorry for the atrocious delay, and please enjoy :D

The feeling of cold, clean linen over a hard surface. The smell of smoke and filth. The taste of mud. The sound of many conversations, one of them louder than the others.

"What in God's name do you think you're doing?" Shouted a male voice in perfect Osea, the dialect and accent of those of the noble class. "Why is there an unconscious girl in my tent?"

"Weel, yah see, Robin, we-ah, we's bez finins her back in the teh frest, and we's be thinkin' you woulna mind-" I think it was Brown Fish Man.

" i Mind/i I don't know what you folks do in Yekrut, but here, when we find young women alone in the forest, we either ignore them or try to ravish them, we do not carry knock them unconscious and carry them to people's tents!" yelled the Oseacian man that I decided was on my side, sort of. "Now what did you say her name was?"

A pause. A mumble.

"SHE'S WHO?!"

I heard the sound of fabric snapping, and opened my eyes to find myself in a small tent about four feet across, lit by a weak rising sun. To my left was a pile of rags and a blanket, to my left a pair of boots, a set of folded clothes, and more rags. I was lying on top of a flat wooden board on the ground, covered by a linen sheet that felt like it had been attached to a ship in another life. Directly across from me was the tent's opening, and a young man's face was peering in at me.

He was definitely a noble, for his eyes were clear and intelligent; most peasants his age showed signs of having suffered the White Fever that swept through the country years ago that had dimmed the vision of its survivors. From what I could see, his eyes were a strong blue over a long nose and a full, bow-shaped mouth. His chin was dusted with a dark beard, and his straight dark hair seemed to be pulled back. He was quite handsome, and if he would get that horrified expression out his eyes, he would look better.

I pulled my arm out from under the blanket, sat up, and waggled my fingers at him. He snapped his head back outside.

"Does she have any idea who we are?" I heard him say. More mumbling. I rested my arms on my knees and waited whilst they mumbled out the rest of their conversation.

About five minutes later I was re-re-examining my nails when the tent flap snapped again, and the man stepped inside, his horror replaced with a pained smile. He was tall and thin, with a slight build that suggested agility. His shirt was thin and off-white, breeches brown and patched, and a thick leather belt went across his chest. At his waste hung an empty sword scabbard two daggers, and a money pouch.

He crossed his arms before speaking. "You know who we are, I presume?"

I blinked twice, then nodded. Best to lie in this situation.

He stared at me for a moment and spoke again, "You will be returned to the keep as soon as you've recovered enough to travel, my lady. Unfortunately you will have to travel blindfolded, but I promise that you will reach home safely." The gallant gentleman, he gave a little half-bow.

"Do you know who I am?" I asked, looking up at him.

He bowed again. "Of course, my lady, and I regret that you were treated so-"

"Are you aware that this is the first time I've ever actually managed to get out of that hellhole?" I interrupted indignantly, "And you're telling me all that work and careful planning is going to go to waste? Um, no, sorry, if it's alright with you, I'll get out of here and just i not /i got back to Evrytham, mmkay?"

He looked shocked. "So you're saying tha-"

"How far away are we that you don't know that Lady Mara of Evrytham has tried to escape her tower almost thirty times in the past two years alone?" I looked up at him incredulously, for I'd thought I'd become quite famous.

He uncrossed his arms and placed them on his hips, looking down at me almost as if I were a much-wanted birthday gift. "Well in that case, my lady Mara, you're welcome to join us here."

Leaning back on my arms, I asked, "And who is 'us', exactly? I may have fibbed a little in that degree."

His smile spread across his face, and his eyes were alight with mischief. "We are the group of outlaws and their families living in the woods outside Evrytham and its village, plotting the death of its Lord and the King he serves."

I nodded, remembering stories of raided caravans, slaughtered children, and starving families. These men had cost the town hundreds of gold coins, leaving many homeless. I'd heard them referred to in terrified voices by the castle's servants. Apparently their leader was a young savage lord that had been a hero in the wars against Natsikap and Qari. Some said he had three heads.

"I'm going to go ahead and assume you're...?" said I.

"Lord Robin of Dangelo, earl of Lostep, yes." He grinned wolfishly. "And you're probably going to be held hostage."

I sighed. "Fantastic."