Bigger than any town fair coloured tents, cooking stalls and chatter marked the tournament. It spread out along the eastern wall of Nottingham town covering the grass in a picture of light-hearted merrymaking that was marred by the presence of soldiers every ten metres. The walls of the town were also stationed with archers, most notably in the colours of Prince John.

Despite this many people beetled the area browsing stalls, a large number of patrons were flowing out of the designated pub and a crowd had gathered in what had been the jousting area opposite the raised dais that housed the nobles, curious to get a glimpse of the royalty in Nottingham.

Prince John was as dark as his brother was fair, though both were tall and slim. He sat centre stage with the Sheriff at his right hand, and with his feet up on the chair in front of him he looked the picture of contented insolence.

The Sheriff, however, looked a little nervous.

"The archery contest, mi'lord? Maybe it is too much temptation?"

John laughed a deep catching sound.

"My dear Sheriff, it is temptation. Even all the way in Winchester I have heard of your famous Robin Hood and I must confess I am curious. If your bold outlaw will grace us with his presence he will hardly escape, and then, my dear sheriff, you will have accomplished the thing that you have been incapable of doing for the last four years. Besides," he took a lazy scoff from his goblet. "I am in dire need of a little entertainment. My mood of late has been appalling."

"It's about to get worse," muttered the Sheriff.

"What was that?"

"I like a good purse."

The prince merely grunted in reply.

"A pretty bauble for a pretty lady?"

"Robin!" Marian hissed. They were surrounded by women at the jewellery and cloth stalls. Alan in particular was looking around in appreciation.

"Maybe some nice patterned cloth?"

"Robin!"

"What?" He turned towards her his eyebrows raised, for all the world like his only concern was shopping.

"Grow up!"

His answering grin could have eclipsed the sun.

"Right then," he said rubbing his hands together. "First things first, we need to get the archers off the walls."

"Yeah, about that Robin." Alan said dragging his eyesight away from a bosomy barmaid. "How do you propose to get past the royal guards? They're the royal guards."

"I know what they are, Alan. That's the whole point."

Alan's face was the picture of bewilderment.

"I intend to use them."

"Huh?" Alan's bewilderment seemed to be catching.

"Wilfred." Robin said, slapping one of the cloaked strangers on the back. "You know what to do."

The stranger dropped his hood revealing a fair man with sparkling blue eyes. "Always the tactician, Captain? It's nice to see that everything I've taught you hasn't gone to waste." He shifted slightly revealing a royal guard uniform beneath his flowing cloak. "Let's see if the old fogies don't hop to it when they see their old commander, hey?" With a predatory smirk he disappeared into the crowds.

"Captain?" Will asked.

"Wilfred of Ivanhoe, taught me everything I know…almost. He's been the commander of the royal guard for eight years and he's well liked. He'll get them on our side. Now," Robin turned a full circle looking over the heads of the crowd. "I'm off to cause a distraction."

"Robin, be careful…and good luck." Marian said.

"Come on Marian, it may not be a silver arrow but a challenge for the best archer in England? Puh-lease, I'm Robin Hood."

Guy shifted uncomfortably in the shadows. He was standing in the back of the royal tent, behind the Sheriff's chair attending him. But his mind kept wandering and his shoulder kept throbbing and he kept hearing that 'thunk' of the arrow that had missed taking his life by a hairs-breadth. He shuddered then looked around to make sure that nobody had noticed.

The crowd opposite the dais was swelling in anticipation of the archery contest. The bumblebee uniforms of his guards were sparse and few compared to the sheer numbers of people out there now. Guy could see the few soldiers in the uniform of the royal guard, but there seemed to be some commotion amongst them. From where he was standing he could see a royal guard spreading a message among his fellows and he felt uneasy. He remembered clearly the hostility of the villagers in the forest.

As the archers aligned at the hundred pace mark, all wearing hoods in silent homage to the absent Robin Hood, Guy made his escape. He knew something wasn't right and he'd be damned if he was going to go down with the Sheriff.

Walking fast between merchant stalls he caught a glimpse of dark hair out of the corner of his eye and stiffened. Marian. She was standing with the outlaw Saracen between the stalls. He watched as the Saracen left and his wife looked around her. He had been right, something was happening.

The decision was made before he even realised what he was doing. With a few long strides he was at her side and as she turned towards him he gripped her arm tightly. She smelt of lilac, he had often been surprised of that smell in the early months of their marriage. He watched in a detached satisfaction as her face morphed from polite curiosity to anger then fear.

"My dear wife, fancy meeting you here."

"Guy?" It was a pleaded whisper, something he had come to expect from his wife.

"I knew something was happening, if you tell me now then I promise not to hurt you."

"All your promises are lies."

"Come now Marian, is that a way to speak to your husband. You're not one of them, now tell me what the plan is. You know you want to."

The next minute he wasn't sure what happened. He had been whispering into Marian's ear, his hand clenched around her jaw and the other on her upper arm, he had felt her shaking. Now he was lying on his back looking up into the clear blue sky, winded. His first coherent thought was that the Saracen must have returned with others. A second later he realised that that wasn't so. It was just his wife and him. Marian's face was a storm of anger, with a jerky step she unsheathed a sword from the nearby weaponry stall and with barely controlled rage she was pointing at his throat.

"I''m not that person," she said.

Guy let out a weak laugh and tried to get up, Marian's sword pressing threateningly against his flesh halted him immediately. "Marian," he said warningly. "Put the sword down."

"No," she hissed her eyes flashing. "I am through with taking orders. I am not a child."

"You're my wife," Guy hissed looking around at the merchants who were merely standing nearby watching the confrontation. They recognised him, he supposed, and after the calamity at Saint Peter's Abbey no one was going to help him. "We are married under law, and you will obey me."

"No."

"You won't get away with this."

"I'm an outlaw now Guy. I don't follow any law."

"And look where it's got you; a hole in the forest. Is that the life you want?"

"I'd take a hole over being your wife."

"No one will take you. You'll be a whore…" The rest of his sentence was cut off by the hilt of the sword slamming against his face. He looked up in surprise at Marian as he spat out blood.

"I don't need you; did I forget to mention? The nightwatchman, Guy, is me."

Guy stared with unconcealed surprise at her confession.

"That's right," Marian said louder, stepping back and spreading her arms to the spectators. "I'm the nightwatchman. All this time Guy, and you've been duped."

"You'll hang for this," Guy said hoarsely.

"Will I? Well, I guess we can go together, dear husband. Prince John's reign is ending and the Sheriff is finished, today. Will you join me on the scaffold?"

He was on his knees now, Marian having moved away enough not to threaten him immediately with her sword but he was cautious.

"No one will have you now."

"I don't want no one." She tore the ring from her finger and threw it at him. Then she laughed a beautiful melodious sound that was so far removed from what he had ever heard from her that he stared in wonderment. Her smile that she endowed on him was soft and loving and in no way meant for him. "I have the only man I've ever loved; Robin Hood lives and he loves me." Here she laughed again. "I love him, I love Robin Hood."

The words themselves were meaningless birdsong. Beyond her glowing face he recognised the figures of the giant Little John, the Saracen and her tall skinny flunky. The odds against him, he spared his wife one more appraising stare. He was coming to realise that he had never really seen her, this woman. Then he scrambled inelegantly to his feet and disappeared within the crowds. Marian had said Prince John's reign was over, and he wasn't one to doubt her sincerity.