"I almost wish I could give it back," said Little John with a chuckle when he joined Robin among the oaks. "That was the finest lady I've ever laid eyes on. She had the face of an angel." Robin laughed and clapped him on the shoulder.
"Then you must be the devil to rob her."
"Aye, I am," Little John agreed as he tossed his small bag of gold coins between his hands. The gold inside rattled merrily. Before he had the chance to catch it back in his hand, Robin snatched the pouch out of the air and looked thoughtfully after the carriage.
"I only wish Jackson and his horde had kept out of things. Do you know they'll probably be blaming us for that attack," said Little John indignantly. "As if we would ever draw arms against a lady and her escort. If I ever get my hands on Jackson I'll…"
"Peace John. Sherwood Forest has housed thieves and cutthroats long before you and I came along. All we can do is protect the helpless from their brutality as we would protect them from the Sheriff's."
"First the law and then the lawless. We are yeomen, not bodyguards," grumbled Little John.
"For now, we return home to celebrate this day's good fortune," said Robin loudly, pretending not to have heard. "There is a slab of venison with your name on it, John." With a merry laugh, Robin led the way through the Greenwood. He moved with purpose, though his feet were silent upon the broken leaves; without hesitation he led them back to the Great Oak. Roaring fires greeted them and a loud cheer went up as the men spotted their arrival.
"How goes it, Robin?" called Alan from one of the nearest fires. Robin held up the bag of gold coins.
"The Sheriff's purse is a few coins lighter tonight!" Another loud cheer went up at this and Robin and Little John were ushered toward the largest fire where hand-carved mugs of freshly-brewed beer were pushed into their hands. Laughing, Robin drank his down as smooth as water and as soon as his wine was gone it was immediately refilled to the brim. Much appeared, holding two plates of steaming venison, fresh off the spit. The scent of it reached Robin first and his stomach growled in welcome. He and Little John tore into their meal alongside their brethren. Whenever their mugs or plates were empty more was there to fill its place. Music and laughter echoed around the Great Oak as Alan a Dale sang one of his bawdier tunes. That was the way of things among Robin and his men. They had few luxuries in life, but they had good food and a place to call their own. They were merry and content with their lot. Each man who came to sit at Robin's table had met injustice and adversity in his time, but all those troubles were forgotten in the presence of Robin Hood. The men loved him as though he was their king. Everything he had he gave to them; he fed them and sheltered them and protected them from the law. In return they served him and his cause for restoring justice to the people of Nottingham. Every night was a cause for celebration and each man did his share. That was the way of things in the Greenwood.
Robin quickly forgot about the noble lady Little John had waylaid that November evening. In truth there was no great mystery as to why a noblewoman would come to stay at NottinghamCastle. The Sheriff was known for his extravagance and gluttony. He used the excess money he collected from his serfs to pay for his lavish feasts, and noblemen and women came from all over England to partake in his festivities.
For Robin and his men there were more pressings matters that needed to be dealt with.
"Robin, I'm afraid it's as bad as we thought," said a tall, gangly young man named James, still panting from his run from Nottingham town to the Great Oak. Robin nodded and looked up into the bare branches of the Great Oak, thinking what course of action they should take.
"The Sheriff plans to visit him later this evening to collect the last of his money and if Avery doesn't find something to feed that poor girl with soon, she won't survive the winter." Robin nodded again.
"How much does he owe?"
"Twenty farthings more," replied James. His blue eyes brimmed with concern. Robin's heart went out to him. Avery was James' brother and the only reason Avery had not joined them in the Greenwood was because his daughter, Emma, needed a secure lifestyle. She was seven and not suited for a life as an outlaw. Robin stroked his chin.
"And the Sheriff plans to visit him tonight, does he?"
"Aye," said James miserably. Robin's dark eyes flicked to James' haggard face and when James raised his head, Robin nodded at him with a decisive gleam in his eyes. At once, James' narrow shoulders relaxed, for anyone who knew him knew that when Robin had that look about him, things were about to happen. James bowed low, and quickly turned on his heel to tell his brother that things would be all right.
"What do you plan to do?" asked Little John, who had been standing nearby and knew all about the troubles Avery was having with the Sheriff. Robin was about to tell him his plan when a shout drew his attention.
"Robin!" Much sprinted across the clearing, vaulting over the raised roots of the Great Oak. Robin's eyebrows rose when he saw the excited smile lighting up the boy's face.
"You'll never guess who's just arrived in Nottingham." Much skidded to a stop, his hair plastered to his sweaty face. Robin and Little John exchanged a smug smile.
"Prince John, perhaps," Robin suggested, drumming his fingers on his chin as though he did not already know it was true. Much's face fell and his chest slumped as all the air rushed out of him. Robin flung back his head and laughed his hearty laugh, so that several heads turned in their direction.
"How did you know?" panted Much, crestfallen.
"A little birdie told me," said Robin, pulling Much upright. "The Prince is on his way to dine with the Sheriff, I suspect?" Disappointed, Much nodded. "Just as I thought. Here now, don't look so down. There's naught that happens in Sherwood Forest that I don't know about. What do you have in your hand?" Robin's sharp eyes shifted to Much's right hand which clenched fiercely around the bell of a gold horn. Much handed it over and Robin examined it with interest.
"A fine horn like this must belong to the Prince. How did you come to possess it?" Much puffed out his chest, regaining some of his enthusiasm.
"I robbed it from his very hand," he said proudly. Robin's eyes flicked from the horn to the boy's face and then met briefly with Little John's in surprise. Although Robin and his men were known for their daring, neither would ever have attempted anything like stealing from a member of the royal family.
"That was…brave of you," said Robin slowly. He bit back the words of disapproval that rose up in his throat. It would be wrong to rob Much of his moment of glory.
"And right stupid of you," said Little John, saying what Robin hadn't. Much shrugged, taking the barb as a compliment. Robin stepped in before Little John could hone his sharp words and lifted the magnificent golden horn in his hands.
"This is a fine-looking horn, but how does she sound?" he said loudly, signaling to the other two that it was time to stop arguing. Robin lifted the shining instrument to his lips and blew. Suddenly the great clearing overflowed with the rich, resonant sound of the horn. All of Robin's men were momentarily transfixed by its heart-rending beauty. Blinking in surprise, Robin studied the instrument once more.
"It's a horn fit for a King," he said, his voice low and full of awe. Proudly, he tied the horn to his belt then turned to Much.
"Do you wish to join me as I go to greet his Highness at the Sheriff's feast tonight?"
Much's face brightened at once. Little John stepped back, surprised.
"You're as daft as he is! You can't go into the Sheriff's hall. He'll have your head for sure!" Robin laughed.
"But it won't be Robin Hood going into the Sheriff's hall tonight. Tonight not even the Sheriff, with his keen eyes, could pick me out."
"And what about Much here? You can't take him in there with you. The Prince will recognize him at once. No doubt he has his men scouring the forest in search of him as we speak."
"Then the safest place for him is as far away from the forest as possible. The last place either Prince John or the Sheriff expects to see either of us is in the hall with them, and neither will be looking for us. We will be perfectly safe." Robin finished this declaration with a confident smile. Little John studied his face for signs of hesitancy; upon finding none, he sighed.
"Then I guess I had best go along with you to keep you from getting yourselves into more trouble than you can handle."
Prince John's welcome at Nottingham castle was the stuff of legends. When Robin, Little John, and Much arrived, there was a long walkway lit by a colonnade of torch lamps. Firelight danced up the carved stone walls up to the ramparts, where thin white flags fluttered in an evening breeze. Robin glanced into the sky and saw a full moon rising, lit as if the torches glow illuminated her. Robin discreetly saluted the moon, taking it as a good omen they would encounter no trouble.
"Rob, I stand out like a fox in a henhouse," muttered Little John, watching a pair of noblemen walk past him, the tops of their plumed feathers barely higher than his shoulder. He was dressed in a mismatched tunic and trousers Alice had done her best to alter for him for such occasions, but he hardly looked like a nobleman. As for sticking out, Robin couldn't argue. Even the tallest of the men back at the Great Oak barely reached Little John's shoulder. Still, Robin was not worried.
"Just stick to the wall as I explained and draw as little attention as possible. Dressed as you are, anyone would take you for a servant." His tone was confident, but Little John still looked wary—and with good reason. If they were discovered it was straight to the Tower for all of them. Even the hangman's noose was better than the Tower of London.
"Trust me, John," said Robin in a low voice.
Once they were inside, Little John removed himself to stand along the wall. As predicted, few people noticed him there. Of the few that did, they only cast him wary and incredulous glances, but nothing more. Robin and Much drifted into the center of the room, mingling with the other gentry that had come to greet the prince. From their store of robes they'd robbed from pompous lords, Robin and Much had found clothes that were in decent enough condition to not draw attention. Robin went as a lord and Much as his faithful page.
"Was your home as fine as this?' asked Much, looking around in wide-eyed awe.
"Aye," Robin replied, careful never to look at the boy. He sighed. Tonight was not a night for remembering. Temptation suffocated him with Giles nearby and unaware of his presence; Robin was painfully aware of his hunting knife at his side.
"We must pretend we belong here," he whispered, maneuvering his way through the crowd, stopping at random to greet noblemen as though he had known them all his life. In truth, he had encountered some of them when he had visited London with his Uncle Gamwell, he could see that none of them truly remembered him. They returned his greetings with false smiles and likewise acted as though they had known him for ages. Robin, despite his inclination to remain inconspicuous, could not fight his naturally engaging personality. Even these pompous lords seemed drawn to his side after only a few minutes of his presence. When he left them, they called after him to rejoin them after he finished making his rounds.
"Sir Geoffrey, what a pleasure old friend!" said Robin cordially, embracing an elderly gentleman with drooping brown eyes and a goblet of ale in his hand. Sir Geoffrey spluttered as ale spilt down the front of his fur mantle.
"I believe I have never met you before, stranger," he slurred grumpily, dabbing at his mantle.
"Why of course we have," Robin insisted, flashing one of his twinkling smiles. "We went on that hunt at Lord Huntington's castle a decade ago. It was there that we first made our general acquaintance with Giles."
"What are you doing?" hissed Much. Robin made a silencing gesture with his hand. This was more important than Much realized; Robin might never get this opportunity again. Sir Geoffrey, who had already had more than enough ale to fog his memory, accepted Robin's story at face value.
"That was a sorry affair that was," he slurred. "Left that poor lad without a father… Lord Huntington was a fine man." Sir Geoffrey took a deep swig in salute. Robin nodded.
"What of the boy and his mother though? I have heard no news of them in years."
"Dead, both of them."
Robin felt as though Little John had just walloped him with a quarterstaff.
"The mother too then?" he said slowly, regaining his conversational attitude. "I had heard she remarried." Sir Geoffrey, his face half-buried in his goblet, nodded once more.
"Aye, Giles married her out of decency to keep the vultures from trying to steal her husband's lands. Besides, the boy needed a father and Giles was as good a candidate as any." Robin clenched his jaw and bit back a remark. Giles had sent him away a week after the marriage.
"Then what happened to Lady Charity?" he pressed.
"She was spoiled, according to Giles—a bit cracked in the head. She kept trying to run off. Forced to keep her locked up in the dungeons, he was. She finally died of a fever. Shame that. She was a lovely one; killed Giles to lock her up."
"I'll bet it did," muttered Robin under his breath. "Well, I shan't take up your entire evening. Good day Sir Geoffrey." He started to go.
"Here, what was your name again? I'm vaguely beginning to recall your face." But Robin melted into the crowd as easily as a shadow slips into the night.
"Robin?" said Much quietly.
"Best not to speak of that," Robin said with the heartiest smile he could summon. Much nodded hesitantly, but Robin put a hand on his shoulder. "Go see what food you can find for yourself." After another uncertain nod, Much left him. Alone, Robin gazed around him at all the smiling faces. How lucky they were to be untroubled. They knew nothing of Giles' villainy and they were content in their ignorance. Perhaps if he could be so lucky as to not know the true nature of Giles' heart he might also be content. But no; he knew that the deaths of his mother, father, aunt, uncle and cousin were all upon the man's conscience.
"Excuse me, sir," said someone at his elbow, trying to edge around him. Robin looked up sharply and found himself staring into the face of the Lady Marian. Quickly he nodded and moved to let her to pass, but after she had gone by, he stared after her. She went to greet Sir Geoffrey and his daughter, smiling a warm and knowing smile as she took note of his inebriation. She wore a gown of creamy white that complimented her fair complexion and dark, red hair. After one last, appraising glance, Robin moved away. He needed to find Giles among all these preening, puffed up courtiers.
"Robin!" hissed Little John, making his way around the edge of the room to reach his side. "Did you see, Rob? She's 'ere!" Robin didn't bother to ask who Little John was referring to.
"Aye, I saw her," he said with a casual shrug, glancing at Lady Marian still standing beside Sir Geoffrey.
"Ah, but she's a fine lady," sighed Little John reverently. "If I were an honest man, I would have her for my wife." Robin chuckled and craned his neck to look up at his friend.
"You have high aims if you think a lady of her caliber would marry you."
"Why, do you think she would rather have a prancing ninny like yourself? Call her over and see who she prefers," challenged Little John, gazing at Marian like a lovesick boy. Robin shook his head, grinning at the giant's face. It wasn't until Little John straightened up and called her name that Robin realized he was serious. His smile faltered.
"Let's see how well she likes the likes of you," said Little John, moving away as Lady Marian frowned in their direction and started toward them. Robin swore under his breath and tried turned away from her, but she reached out and touched his arm when she drew up behind him.
"Did you call me, Sir?" she asked. Robin kept his back to her, trying to look at the far wall so that she could not see his face. He would kill John for drawing attention to him and possibly giving away his description to someone who might later be able to identify him.
"No, Lady, 'twas my friend who called you," he said over his shoulder. Even the slight turn of his head that allowed him to address her was too much. With his peripheral vision, he saw her expression change and she jerked her hand back as if she had been burnt. He spun around and caught her hands, dragging her to a small alcove away from listening ears.
"You!" she said coldly, twisting out of his grip. "What are you doing here?"
"I could ask the same of you," said Robin with equal coolness.
"Lord Giles invited me to spend the winter here before my return home in the spring, not that it's any business of yours."
"Marian-" he began with forced patience.
"Lady Marian," she corrected icily. Robin drew an impatient breath and corrected his address.
"Lady Marian, I would very much appreciate it if you would not draw attention to me."
"You still have not told me why you're here."
"As you say, 'it's none of your business.' Please Milady, I would rather not be recognized." Her mossy-green eyes narrowed with suspicion. Robin held her gaze, praying she would respect his wishes. He knew it would require much compassion on her part, which was something she had lacked the last time their paths had crossed. Pursing her lips, she looked away from him to the rest of the hall, scanning the faces there in search of someone.
"Why do I feel that you should not be here?" she asked quietly, flicking him a sharp glance. Robin had forgotten how clever she was.
"That is probably just your wishful thinking."
"And if I were to summon Lord Giles? There he is right now. What would he have to say of your behavior? Such secrecy hardly befits the son of the Prince's host."
"Stepson," said Robin, mimicking the correction she had given him moments before. She lifted her brow haughtily. Robin watched her, knowing that he could trust her as far as he could throw her. He decided to change tact. His grim expression suddenly changed to roguish charm.
"Come now, Marian, be reasonable. If you are still upset because your father refused to sanction a marriage between us, know that I don't hold it against you. Truthfully, we both lost a fine opportunity, but I would think you'd have moved on after all these years." He ended his taunt with a sly smile.
"Oh, hang you, Robert! He only suggested the marriage as a punishment in the first place because he knows how fond I am of arrogant fools. For that idiotic speech, I shall summon your father!"
"No!"
As she turned to call for Giles, Robin caught her around the waist and hastily silenced her by covering her mouth with his. As expected, she struggled violently against him, but Robin, the stronger, decided to press his luck. Only when her ruby ring encrusted fist sank into his unprepared abdomen did he release her. At the sound of his harsh cough, several heads turned in their direction, including Giles of Northwood's. Doubled over clutching his stomach, Robin glared up at Marian.
"You'll regret doing that."
"Lady Marian is there a problem?" asked Giles loudly, turning more attention to where Robin and Marian stood in the alcove. She smiled and shook her head.
"It seems your s-" Robin viciously shook his head, faking a loud cough to get her attention. Marian hesitated, holding his desperate look. Closing her eyes with a grimace, she continued, "It seems your guest has choked on his ale. Forgive the interruption." For emphasis she slapped Robin hard on the back. It stung. Giles nodded and resumed his conversation with the buxom woman he had been talking to before. Soon, everyone else followed suit.
"Thank you," Robin whispered. Not looking at him, Marian nodded.
"I am not the mean-spirited girl I once was."
"No, you are the same, only now you are a woman." He stood up. Ignoring the insulted and disgusted look on her face, he looked around for Little John and jerked his head in the direction of the door. Little John nodded and continued the action with Much. Robin bowed low in a show of respect for Lady Marian, though he hardly thought she deserved it. She turned away disgustedly.
"Farewell," he murmured, "Maid Marian." She whirled around.
"Where did you hear that name?" she demanded in a harsh whisper. Robin smirked with a shrug.
"I heard it from the toll man in the forest. It's not often he comes across a traveler so willing to part with her money." He left her gaping after him like a landed fish. It served her right to know her folly was well-known throughout the Greenwood. Meeting up with Much and Little John on the other side of the hall, the three of them presently made their departure.
"Why did you not tell me you knew her?" demanded Little John as they made their way back to Sherwood.
"That is not a story for now," said Robin, glancing uneasily over his shoulder. He had been too careless with his identity. If Lady Marian had recognized him at only a glance then anyone else who might have known him before his exile might also have seen and recognized him.
"Go on without me," he said abruptly. "I have other business to attend to."
"Does it have anything to do with what you asked Sir Geoffrey?" asked Much.
"Speak not of that again! That is my business." His words were unusually sharp. Much shrank back, humbled.
"Aye, Robin."
Little John looked between them. "What's this about?"
"Don't ask; it's nothing to do with you." Robin turned and strode off into the night.
In truth, Sir Geoffrey's news did weigh heavily on his mind. He remembered now how his mother had fought against the marriage to Giles. From the beginning she never liked him, but she had no power to stand in his way. After the marriage, Robin went to live with his Uncle Gamwell and Aunt Cecily. From then on he slowly watched his mother waste away. She fought Giles; it was evident from the faint bruises that often circled her thin wrists. Robin was thirteen the last time he saw her and he was fifteen when he stopped hearing news of her. No doubt that was when she died. It was just like Giles not to tell him.
With a heavy heart, he made his way into Sherwood Forest. His attention was drawn inward to his memories of his mother in the few years before Giles ruined it all. He sank onto his knees in a pool of moonlight. The cold November wind made him shiver as it passed through his cloak. Quietly, he said a prayer for Lady Charity, hoping she had found her way back to her true husband in Heaven. So absorbed was Robin in his prayers that he almost missed the tell-tale crack of a twig. At once, his senses became sharp as the edge of a blade.
The forest was inside him now. He knew where each bird made its roost, knew the den of every deer. And he knew someone was there who didn't belong.
"You are a long way from Nottingham, Sir," he said loudly, not troubling to turn around.
"You have taken something of mine," said an oddly-pitched voice—a lad whose voice had not broken trying to appear older than he was. "Your men robbed me and I will take my payment from your hide."
"Go home, son. There are few who have the skill to back up such pretty words."
A sword hissed as it slid free of its sheath. Robin's already over-sharpened senses stretched to their farthest reach. The only weapon he had at hand was his hunting knife as he had not seen fit to take his bow with him to the feast. In a flash, the stranger was upon him. Robin turned and met him head on. In the dark it looked to be nothing but a reedy boy with a knight's helmet on his head. For a lad he handled the sword expertly well. With a stinging rush of pain, Robin felt the sword slice across his forearm. In retaliation he struck back and was satisfied to feel his knife cut through cloth and flesh. As the boy recoiled, Robin knocked the sword from his hand. That did not stop his assailant though. With a snarl, he dived at Robin, knocking him clean off his feet. They landed in a tangle of limbs, and Robin grunted as the boy's helmet struck his chin.
Were it a simple task of skill versus skill, Robin realized he might not have won, but Robin was slightly the stronger of the two. He managed to get to his feet, and with a rush of energy, swung the boy around and slammed him against a tree. The impact had crushing force and to Robin's surprise, the boy let out a high-pitched grunt, much too high for a boy of his apparent age to make. Before Robin could fully comprehend this, the boy shoved him back and he staggered and fell against a young sapling, cracking his head on the hard roots. The boy seized Robin's fallen knife and stood over him, triumphant.
"So much for the ever-elusive Robin Hood," said an uneasily familiar voice, "trapped by a woman." Before she could move, Robin hooked his foot around her ankle and jerked her to the ground. In seconds, he had her pinned on her back with both hands secured safely above her head. With his free hand, Robin removed the helmet and gave a disbelieving chuckle.
"'Twas well fought, but it's unwise to boast until the final outcome, Lady Marian." She glared at him. "I am going to release you. If you wish to continue then know that your identity will be no protection for you—not that you need an advantage." He gave her that respect with no reserves. "However, if you would prefer to return to your disguise as a gentle maid, then I will be gallantry itself and you will never have known a gentleman more respectful than I." Marian's pale face was flushed; her green eyes glittered dangerously up at him. Slowly, she relaxed in submission; slowly, Robin released her and graciously extended his hand to help her to her feet. She didn't trust him—there was no doubt about that—but she accepted his hand.
For a moment, they were silent. Robin studied her with renewed interest. Marian sent him a scathing look then turned away.
"You are a skilled swordswoman," he said at last, breaking the tense silence. Her head came up sharply as though he were mocking her. Upon seeing that he was serious, she stilled and gave a stiff nod of appreciation.
"You seem as though you are a decent man," she said quietly. "How can you condone the thievery of harmless travelers through your woods?" Robin chuckled slightly and began to circle her, taking in her full measure. She was surprisingly strong for one so lean, and having seen her dressed as a lady he would never have guessed what a savage damsel lay beneath. She bristled under his scrutiny.
"Aye, there is much thievery taking place, but the majority of it is not on the roads through Sherwood. The Sheriff of Nottingham taxes the heart and soul out of the people, often taking twice of what is his due and uses it to pay for feasts such as the one we just attended."
"What do you mean by that?" she asked spinning to always keep him within her sight. "The taxes that Lord Giles collects go to help fund King Richard's crusade."
"That may be what the tax is for, but that is not what it buys. Believe me Lady Marian, my men and I have watched much gold enter this forest in the direction of Nottingham, but never have we seen it leave again. Giles has not given a cent to fund Richard's campaign." He cast his eyes upon the harvest moon, marking the time. "I know I cannot change your mind by my words, and I will not insult either of us by making the attempt, but if you can find it in your cold heart to come with me now, then let my actions speak for my character. If not, then the road to the castle lies behind you. As a gentleman I would take you back, but I have a pressing engagement I cannot overlook." He turned to go.
"Some 'business' calls you?" The accusation hung in the air, and Robin paused, stung.
"You always were quick to judge," he said quietly. "You have my permission to come." With that, he strode away, though he moved without his usual stealth so that she could follow him if she chose. Marian would follow him; it was not in her to go. A strange breed was she that could wield a sword with the strength of a man and speak from a soul innocent as the blossoms in spring. There were few women in Robin's memory that commanded attention so, yet desired none of what they received. He glanced over his shoulder where she stood bathed in the silver light of a moonbeam, her dark hair framing the lily-white face. She wore a mask as effective as his own. When she caught him looking, Marian took a steadying breath and made to catch up with him. To his surprise, she knew something about stealth as well.
Robin had to move quickly. There was not much time and he was already late.
"Where are we going?" she asked quietly. She was merely curious, not frightened.
"The Robin Hood you have heard of is the nobleman's version: a petty thief who has conned his way into the hearts of the peasants and plans to stir up trouble for Prince John and the Sheriff. You have said I should be hanged for my crimes and that I am barbaric—there is no need to apologize," he added, catching sight of her face over his shoulder. "I have heard much worse."
"Is it not true though?" asked Marian directly. "The boy I knew all those years ago was all those things. Why should not the man before me be the same?"
"Oh yes. It's all very much true. But the difference is in the way the peasants and nobles view me. I am not here stirring up trouble merely because I enjoy chaos. I am righting a wrong that no one else has been willing to confront." She clicked her tongue impatiently.
"There is no need to sound so noble. What you are doing is wrong. There are ways to fight injustice that are within the law." He glanced over his shoulder with a mocking grin.
"Aye, but where is the fun in that?"
Avery's house was not far off and he soon caught sight of the smoke from Avery's hearth fire. Robin stilled.
"Take care not to be seen; your good name is at great risk this night."
Marian gave no answer, but he knew she heard and would obey. He could spare no more thoughts for her and in an instant he shrouded himself in the gauze of night. Like a specter he crept toward the house, a thief, but a gallant one. The front door stood ajar and cautiously Robin flattened himself against the front wall edging as close as he dared to listen.
"You have not fulfilled our agreement, Avery," snarled Giles. "I extended your payment until last week and you still have not managed to raise enough money to cover your debts. I want my money!"
"F-forgive me Sire," stammered the man, Avery. "M-m-my daughter was sick and what with the famine it has been all I could do to keep food on the table. Please, just a week more and you have my word that I will have enough." Giles struck him hard in the mouth and Avery staggered. From the bedroom, a tiny voice shrieked. Robin clenched his fist, praying for patience. His palms grew hot around the grip of his knife.
There was a loud scuffling noise, a thud of flesh on wood and a loud whimper. "I am the law here, Avery! My word is the only word that matters. Do you think if I chose to kill you right now anyone would raise a hand to stop me? Either you produce twenty silver pieces this instant or else I will cut out your weak Saxon heart right here!" Robin peered around the doorframe as Giles withdrew his hunting knife from its sheath at his belt. It was a murderous-looking weapon. Like everything else he owned, it was black and silver, a craftsman's masterpiece. The moment he saw it, Avery went mad with fear.
"P-p-please!" stammered Avery.
Robin rapped on the door with his knuckles, stalling for time. The movement inside the room stilled.
"Were you expecting company?" snarled the Sheriff. Avery shook his head, apparently too terrified to speak. "Who is it?" the Sheriff barked.
"Surely no name is required from an old friend who is passing through," said Robin with the cheeriest voice he could muster. He knew an amiable response would put Giles off guard.
"You are not welcome here!" shouted the Sheriff. Robin stood up and flung open the door, his hunting knife poised and deadly. His dark eyes flashed black with fury.
"I believe, Good Sheriff, that I am far more welcome than you this evening," said Robin calmly, stepping across the threshold into the tiny cabin. He went at once to Avery and helped him to his feet. "What is your business tonight?" Robin asked, eyeing him closely, yet maintaining his pretense of politeness.
"This man is a tax dodger and it is my obligation to have him punished for his crimes," said Giles, forcibly restraining himself. Robin glanced between Giles and Avery.
"Is it also your obligation to beat the poor man senseless?"
"That is nothing compared to what I will do with you, Robin Hood!" spat the Sheriff, edging towards him. Robin threw back his head and laughed.
"If you think you can capture me alone then by all means make the attempt. Know this, I only have to signal once with this golden horn and thirty of my men will be here in an instant to aid me. Clever as you are at doing your dirty work in secret, it has worked to your disadvantage. Five of my men are outside waiting and we could bodily removed you from this house, but I will spare you the humiliation."
"How noble of you," snarled Giles, his black eyes blazing. Robin took a small leather pouch from his belt and flung it across the room to land at the Sheriff's feet.
"Twenty silver pieces. That is to cover Avery's debts and here is another ten to cover the interest that you have greedily heaped upon him. Now, get out. This man's daughter is asleep in the next room; it is rude of you to wake her." Giles stood frozen in place, squinting hard at Robin.
"I know your face," he said slowly. "We have met before."
"And are likely to again," said Robin, directly evasive.
"Who are you?"
"It's Robin Hood, Sheriff. Don't you know Robin Hood?" Avery's daughter Emma had risen from her bed to see what all the yelling was about. She stared at Robin as though he were a fairy that had materialized before her eyes.
"Shut up, girl, I know who he is! Robin Hood I could kill you here and now for what you did to Prince John today. Aye, I know 'twas not you, but 'twas by your orders. You are a villainous knave and I am of a mind to run you through right now."
"You will not kill me here, 'Sheriff,' nor I you. I suggest you leave safely now or I will send you home in ribbons. There will be other days for our battle. You have what you came for and more, now let these good people be." Robin's voice was harsh and flat, echoing Giles' from moments before. Robin showed no outward signs of his disposition towards the Sheriff. He merely stared, waiting for him to leave the cottage. Finally, Giles began moving towards the door.
"We will meet again, Robin Hood," he spat, going toward the door after scooping up his coins. Robin nodded coldly.
Still glaring, the Sheriff left the house. Robin didn't relax until he heard the Sheriff's horse gallop away. His shoulders sagged as the tension eased out of him. That was the first time since Giles had sent him into exile that Robin had met him face to face without disguise.
The moment the Sheriff was gone, Avery fell to his knees at Robin's feet. "Bless you, Robin!" Robin came back to himself, smiled and pulled the man to his feet.
"Here, this is for you," he said quietly and pushed another small pouch of coins into Avery's hand. "Take care of young Emma's cold. If you need anything else, just send word to Sherwood and I'll get your message."
"Oh bless you, Robin Hood!" cried Emma, clapping her hands together in delight. Moments later, she dissolved into such a fit of coughing that Avery anxiously ushered her back to her room. While Avery tended to his daughter, Robin went outside. He expected to find Marian waiting for him. In fact, he wanted the privilege of pointing out just how wrong she had been about him, but she was nowhere to be seen. He knew from the stillness of the night that she was gone. How much had she seen, he wondered, and had what she seen been enough to change her mind? Not that he cared, of course. They knew each other from long ago and neither had high opinions of the other. He thought she was every bit as arrogant as she thought him insolent. He directed his steps toward the Greenwood. What did her opinion matter?
Robin decided to tell no one of his clandestine meeting with Marian in the grove. She had played the part of a gentle lady too well to convince anyone that she was a seasoned warrior. Besides, even if he told them about his encounter with her, he could not for his honor's sake tell them how closely she came to beating him. However, Robin was curious as to what she had done after slipping away that night. Had she met up with Giles and told him all that she knew? He wouldn't put it past her. The Marian he had known long ago might have done such a thing just to get him in trouble. Or had she gained enough respect for him that she decided not to betray him? That too could be a possibility since she had displayed an unusual compassion by not revealing him in the hall. She always did like to vex him simply because she could. So consumed was Robin by these thoughts that even the other men began to notice when he returned that night.
"What's up, Robin?" asked Alan a Dale as he lazily strummed his lyre beneath the branch which Robin was using as a perch. Robin looked down, measuring him a moment. They were not so different in age, he and Alan, and as one of the earliest members of the band, Robin trusted him.
"There's a woman…" Robin began, unsure of how to present his dilemma.
"Ah, say no more my friend," said Alan with a twinkle in his eye. Robin shook his head fervently.
"No, it's nothing of that sort. This woman knows more than she aught about us and I know not where her loyalties stand." The twinkle vanished from Alan's eye. For an outlaw, to question the loyalty of someone who knew your enemy was a terrifying thing. His fingers ceased their strumming as his brow creased.
"If it is that important to you to know, then why not test the maid? Reveal yourself to her when the Sheriff is near—provided you can still make an escape–and see whether she protects you or not." It was a solid plan, but the flaw of it lay in what to do if Marian proved false.
"It's a sound idea, but you do not know this maid. She may not reveal me today only to have me hang tomorrow. And believe me, she has her fair share of reasons to want my head."
"Such as?" prodded Alan gently, his smile returning.
"When we were younger she was every bit the shrew that she is now and I spread a rumor that she secretly practiced witchcraft. She had to spend a month in church praying for deliverance and was forbidden to come outside and play. I'm sure there was at least one sound spanking involved as well." Alan's eyebrows rose, but he laughed, which made Robin feel a little guilty about the prank. "After a month I finally confessed that I had made it up—if you could have seen my uncle's face... I still bear the marks from that one."
"I see, and no doubt since then this lady bears an ill will against you?" Robin smiled ruefully.
"Aye. She hated me after that. How was I to know that the friar would make it his personal mission to save her soul? No doubt she took up witchcraft just to curse me for what I did." Alan laughed again.
"You must like her then," he said after a long pause. Robin shook his head again, this time with more seriousness.
"No, I heartily dislike her. She looked down upon me because my father was a Saxon. I'll not forgive her easily for the things she used to say." Alan nodded, casting Robin a sideways look. When Robin questioned the meaning of it, he shook his head, saying nothing.