"Archery is a peasant sport," Prince John said leaning back in his seat to talk to a noble. De Ferrers, Sheriff supposed, as the small man had been sulking in the shadows all day. "Now jousting, that is the sport of the kings. Do you not find it interesting that this noble, Robin Hood would profess to be the best archer in all England?"

"No, your majesty." Vasey muttered.

"Champion for the peasants, hmph! Look at them," here he indicated the hooded archers. "Even now they love him, even though he hasn't been seen for some years. I will never understand. Just like my brother. They bleed the country dry with their antics and yet, the people love them for it. Inconceivable."

The crowd cheered as an arrow imbedded itself just off centre from the bullseye. The archers were now shooting from a two hundred pace distance. There were three left; an old man with salt and pepper hair and a long bow, a young hooded man and a middle-aged cobbler both using recurve bows.

"Mi'lord?" the adjudicator asked turning to the royal pavilion. John nodded as expected.

"Two hundred and fifty yards," the adjudicator bellowed, puffing his chest out like a cocky starling.

The old man laughed. "Oh aye, I best be bowing out then me'laddie. I won't be of any use if I can't see the target," with a further chuckle he shook hands with the other two competitors and bowed out of the competition.

"Two arrows," the adjudicator announced. "William of Kent goes first."

The young man stood, dropping his hood for better sight. His bow creaking with the pressure exerted by the strong youth and sent his arrow powerfully toward the target. The crowd clapped as it imbedded in range of the centre.

The cobbler strung his arrow and stood for a moment checking the wind. A breeze had sprung up and low arrows that avoided the strong air currents were no longer an option. Now only strength or tactics would apply. Feeling the strength of it cooling his face, he sighted and released. The crowd ooed as the arrow thunked slightly off centre.

William stood again, and the crowd fell eerily silent. Notching his grey fletched arrow he pulled back and released. The target trembled slightly under impact but the shot was good, dead centre. The crowd burst into applause and cheers at the archer's feat, not bothering to silence as the cobbler stood up to the line. For who could best that shot? The young boy was as good as Robin Hood himself.

There were a few in the crowd who stood silent, watching and waiting. A few who wore dirtied cloaks or hats pulled low.

The cobbler calmly pulled a feather from his arrow, lightening it then notched it. Ignoring the still cheering crowd and his grinning competitor he sighted down the field, feeling the cold wind on his hands, the taught string against his cheek and the smooth wood beneath his fingers. This was his world. With a twang he released, his hands falling by his sides as he squinted to follow his arrow's progress. Had the crowd not been making a lot of noise they would have heard the sound of splitting wood. Out of habit, many followed the arrow's trajectory and thus, gradually the crowd fell silent in astonishment.

A new arrow was now reverberating slightly dead centre, the pieces of the old arrow split around it.

The silence of the crowd was eerie now as the cobbler bowed courteously towards them and turned towards the royal pavilion. Then the whispering started. A murmuring that sounded like a wave across stones swept across the crowd as the lone cobbler mounted the steps to stand before Prince John.

Marian, standing in the crowd could only grin in nervousness and excitement at the rumours flying around her.

"It has to be Robin Hood." "Or his ghost." "I've never seen anything like it." "I didn't believe it was possible." "Only Hood could shoot like that."

The adjudicator finally shook himself from his daze. "Robert of Sheffield is the winner." He rumbled into the silence.


Vasey's eyes had boggled at the impossible shot. A man who could shoot like that would no doubt have been invaluable to his commander. There was also no doubt that Robin Hood still lived.

"Your Robin Hood, I believe?" Prince John asked casually.

"Without a doubt, your majesty." Vasey replied looking over his shoulder for Gisborne, only…he wasn't back there. In fact, Vasey let his eyes flicker back and forth, the entire pavilion was looking distinctly empty to what it had before the entrance of one Robin of Locksley. Suddenly uneasy the Sheriff turned to watch his nemesis standing cockily before the Prince.


"That was an impressive show, Robert of Sheffield. Or should I say Robin Hood?" Prince John said clearly. The crowd rippled again with murmurs as Robin, smiling, removed his hat and bowed courteously.

"Your majesty."

"I don't believe I've ever seen anything quite like it. But I must ask, what does an outlaw want with an audience with the king?"

Robin's eyes flickered to the Sheriff and back again. "I call upon you to hold Sheriff Vasey and Guy of Gisborne accountable." He said clearly and the crowd fell silent.

"Accountable?" John's voice was laced with amusement. "For what precisely?"

"For perverting the course of justice, for the extortion of money and goods to the value, for the terrorism of Nottingham's citizens and…for an attempt on the King's life."

Prince John laughed now, rolling back in his chair and slopping his wine while Robin waited calmly. "These are harsh charges indeed, but pray tell me, why would I believe an outlaw?"

"Because milord," now Robin's smile grew predatory. "I am willing to pervert justice myself." The end of Robin's sentence was nearly lost for as he finished speaking a loud 'boom' rolled across the field. Some people screamed but further commotion was lost as a series of explosions rippled around the outskirts of the fair. Dirt and fire shot into the air and within five minutes the field was clouded in smoke and dust. Through the smog the glint of metal could be seen as hundreds of villagers drew their swords and bows. Nottingham soldiers barely got five steps before they were surrounded.

"Black powder!" Vasey hissed, his face a picture of travesty. "My black powder!"

Robin turned towards him slowly. "That's right, we have enough black powder to level this tournament and Nottingham castle. All that would be left is a crater. Now what do you say to my bargaining power…milord?"

"That you have signed your own death sentence, guards!" John had recovered from his fright. But nothing happened.

A soldier dressed in the royal guard uniform stepped forward from the back of the pavilion.

"What are you waiting for?" John cried. "Kill him."

"Errr…sorry, your majesty but…we are under orders to…well…to detain you milord." He said nervously, flicking a look at Robin he suddenly came to attention and offered a salute. "Captain, it's an honour, sir."

"What is going on around here?" Vasey cried in disgust.

"This is treason," shouted John, his face livid. "This is treason!"

"Is it?" came a deep rich voice.


Marian, Will and Djaq had finished setting off the explosions and had returned to the pavilion prepared to force John to sit a trial turned to each other in confusion. The show of force that Robin had engineered to frighten John into cooperating had gone according to plan but now one of Robin's strangers was standing on the pavilion beside him.

"You will all be tried for treason!" John shouted.

"I think not, little brother." And with this simple statement, Richard the Lionheart removed his hood. He was a tall man with twinkling blue eyes, red hair and beard. Prince John was struck dumb. Robin dropped to his knee and on reflex the rest of the crowd, including Marian, Will, Djaq who were now joined by Alan and John did so too.

"The King," Will whispered fiercely. "The real King."

"Blimey," Alan whispered back weakly. "I gave him the leftover porridge."


"It seems much has happened while I've been away," Richard said calmly.

"Richard? I…I did not know…the outlaws…" John stammered.

"I am well aware of the activities of these outlaws," Richard said, turning his back on his brother he faced the crowds. "Arise Robin, Earl of Huntingdon. This country has faced its own terror of civil war, but now, thanks to the antics of those you call Robin Hood's outlaws this country shall be made right again. I announce it here before all of you today, the official pardon of Robin of Locksley and his men, and the arrest of Sheriff Vasey and Guy of Gisborne."

The crowd cheered a chant suddenly grew: "Robin Hood! Robin Hood!"

At a nod from his monarch Robin took the stage, holding his hands up placating he achieved a quasi silence.

"I am not the hero you proclaim me to be. Today we have taken back our country, but it was not I alone. Many of you have played a part and most particularly those men who took to the forest to fight injustice, those are the true heroes. To build our shire back to what it was before we must all work together, and I say it now and hope that you will all follow me in this, I support King Richard and all of his decisions."