While Marian pulled a screaming Isabella away from the gruesome spectacle of the Earl of Surrey's lifeless body hanging over the Queen's bed, Robin had sought out Sarah at the base of London Bridge.
"Come back to see me, did you? I figured you'd be back without your wife." Sarah gave him a hungry look.
"She wanted to come, but responsibilities kept her away," Robin explained nervously.
"They did, did they?" Sarah wasn't buying that. For someone who appeared so confident, he was being a shy one!
Robin looked around. The boy wasn't anywhere to be found, but would be along shortly, he hoped.
He decided he might as well go fishing for some details about his past tryst with Sarah, since he really couldn't remember anything. Was she the one who...? He really didn't need to remember that.
"So," he began with a swagger, "it's very kind of you to remember me. Just what exactly do you remember, Sarah?" Well, that wasn't as smooth as he would have liked, but the whole situation was awkward. And he couldn't depend on his charm…he was a happily married man now. It would be so much easier if he could turn on his charm! He could say any inane thing and she would turn to jelly.
"I remember you leaping off the top of our barn, doing a backflip, like you was some kind of bird what could fly."
He remembered that, too. He hoped she had been suitably impressed.
"You mentioned you ran away from home a month or two after we met. Is that because...?"
"Because I had to. My father would've killed me if he knew I got knocked up."
Guilt struck Robin like a kick to his gut. "I am so sorry," he told her sincerely. "It must have been hard on you, all alone like that."
"Well, it weren't easy, but it all worked out. I like it better here."
"And your son must be a joy and comfort to you."
Sarah gave him a look of disbelief. "Yeah...right. Why are you here, anyway? You didn't come for the meat pies, I know that. And it seems a bit odd, you wanting to chat so much."
Robin took a deep breath. "Sarah," he began, getting to the reason for his visit, "I'd like to help. I'd like to do whatever I can to assist you, and the boy. Tell me, please, what can I do to best help you?"
What did he mean, she wondered. Yesterday, he had struck her as daft, and he seemed even more so today. Help her? Why would he want to help her? It wasn't as if she needed help, or he owed her or anything. Unless...unless he was some kind of do gooder, and he thought...
But why would he think that? Didn't he remember her father had interrupted them before they'd even begun? Apparently he didn't! Well, she'd just have to see what she might get out of this!
"Who are you, anyway?" she asked.
Robin felt stunned. She didn't know his name? Surely he had told her his name! It had made the dealings feel less casual...he'd felt more connected, somehow.
"I was christened 'Robert,' but I go by 'Robin.' I'm the Earl of Huntington, and Lord of Locksley."
Sarah let out a loud guffaw. "You...an earl? You don't dress like any earl I've ever seen." Not that she'd ever seen an earl, but his simple attire did not match what she thought an earl should wear. Four million citizens in the kingdom, and only twenty earls, and here she was, speaking to one of them! Yeah...right!
He showed her his signet ring, and she fell silent. So, he really was a Lord! And he wanted to "help" with her son. Well, well, well, if he was so daft as to think the boy was his, who was she to argue? Good Fortune was smiling on her at last!
The truth was, she knew who the father of her boy was...sort of. She remembered the events of that day, even if this daft earl didn't. After he and his goofy friend had dashed away, another man came strolling by, a sexy fast talker with bright blue eyes and a really nice build. He shared their meal of roast pig without having to lift a finger to help with the ditch. He'd entertained them with a story she hadn't believed...how he had almost lost his hand poaching, and how some unknown hooded gent had rescued him by shooting impossible shots with a curved bow. Years later, she realized his story must have been true, and her child's father must have been one of the first people ever rescued by the now famous "Robin Hood."
Her father had invited him to spend the night in their barn, and she had visited him there. The looks that had passed between them at dinner convinced her he was much more willing than the earlier hesitant stranger. He told her his name was "Tom," but she guessed he was spinning her a yarn, for she'd heard him tell her father it was "Allan." So, nine months later, when her son was born, she called him "Allan." She never expected to see the wandering stranger again, but she'd never expected to see this handsome dashing flying man, either.
"I'll tell you how you can help," she said, excited now by the prospect of Huntington's coffers at her disposal. "I want money, to pay for the keep of the boy."
"How much do you need?" Robin asked.
She named a figure, and wished she had asked for more when he readily agreed. "And," she added, hoping against hope, "I think it's time you took your turn raising him."
She almost fell over when she saw him smile. Not a disbelieving, "Like hell I will!" sort of smile, either. He wore a genuinely happy smile, as if he were glad of her suggestion.
"You mean you wouldn't be adverse to me taking him away from you? To Nottinghamshire, to live with me? How would he feel about that? I don't wish to turn his entire world upside down."
"Oh," she said hurredly, "You go right ahead. Believe me, he'll be glad of the change."
"And would you like for me to introduce him to your father, or would you prefer I didn't?"
"No. He don't need to know him. You just look after him, like a good dad." She wanted to laugh and cry and jump for joy.
"I'll do my best by him, I swear," Robin promised sincerely. "He'll have the best I can give him, short of my leaving him my properties. Those will go to my girls, and to any other heirs my wife bears me. But he'll never want for anything, I assure you. You have my word."
"Yeah, yeah," Sarah agreed. "Look! Here he comes now! You two get acquainted, while I go pack up his things."
...
Hours later, the boy Allan accompanied Robin and Much's families and servants as they traveled homeward. After what Marian had witnessed, she was in a tremendous hurry to get her little daughters away from the evil that was King John's Court, and back to the safety and wholesomeness of Locksley. She did not even wait for permission to go. By the time Robin returned to Westminster, everything was packed, the horses were saddled, and the carriage was ready. She didn't even question him bringing along the boy. She knew her husband well enough to have expected it.
Robin had already bought a child's bow with arrows for the boy, along with poppets for Ellen and Grace, and some brightly colored silks for Marian. Everyone else was confused by the boy's presence, especially Much, but the child seemed to take it all in stride.
While they stopped to allow the horses a chance to rest, Robin excitedly set up a makeshift target and gave the boy his first lesson in archery.
"Hold the bow just so," he instructed. "Good! Now, don't aim for the target...aim just above it. Pull back steadily, just so, and remember to take a breath first."
The arrow sailed so far over the target, it was nearly lost.
"Good effort," Robin encouraged. "This time, aim just a bit lower."
"Aw, do I have to?" the boy asked. "This is boring."
"Boring?" Robin couldn't believe his ears. Archery...boring?
"Much," Robin offered, "would you like to give Tweeks a try?"
"You teach him, Robin. You're Master of the Bow. Besides, you taught me."
While Robin tried to teach Tweeks to shoot, the boy Allan sauntered over to where Much and Marian were waiting. "Who wants to fire a bow, when you can do some real killing with a sword? What the hell's wrong with that gent's sword, anyway? It's all curved, just like his bow."
"First of all, young scallywag, you watch your language," Much lectured. "You are in decent company here, and if you think you can be a servant at Locksley and talk like a...like a...talk that way, you are sadly mistaken, I think you'll find!"
"I'm not going to be no servant."
"What? Well, even so...why are you coming home with us then?"
The boy shrugged his shoulders, and Marian looked away.
"Well," Much recovered, "there is nothing the matter with Lord Locksley's sword. It's supposed to be curved. For your information, Smart Mouth, he has plenty of broadswords, but that one is special."
Marian stepped closer. It was impossible getting Robin to discuss his years in battle, and she had always been curious about his beautiful scimitar. "Tell us, Lord Bonchurch," she requested.
It wasn't often that Much had such a captive audience. He began with gusto. "We were engaged in hand-to-hand combat...thousands of us in the baking desert sun. You have no idea how hot that sun can be through chain mail! Well, anyway, Robin plunged his broadsword through the body of a Saracen...you know, Marian, the sword he had inherited from his father, and before he could pull it out, he was knocked over from behind. I saw him trying to scramble away, and I saw this sword on the ground, dropped by a dead Saracen. Well, it wasn't any more use to a dead man, so I picked it up and tossed it to Robin, and he used it to kill the soldier who was trying to kill him, and many more before the battle was over."
"You saved his life, Much!"
"Yes, I did. And Robin immediately fell in love with that sword. It's lighter than a broadsword, you see, so you can swing it faster. Spoils of war, young man...spoils of war."
"Well, not bein' funny, but a broadsword's better." The boy began to laugh. "Ladies like a man with a big broadsword, don't they, your Ladyship?"
Much didn't pick up on the innuendo, but Marian did, and blushed.
"Little boy," she scolded, "your father's going to have to teach you some manners."
"Who's his father?" Much asked.
Marian couldn't bring herself to answer. The wound was still too fresh.
An excited whoop from Robin interrupted their conversation. "Marian, Marian, look at this!"
She looked over to see Robin, grinning ear to ear, with Ellen in his arms. Ellen held the bow, though it was too large for her. They were both pointing proudly to the target, which held a tiny arrow near its center.
"First shot, Marian!" Robin exclaimed. "First shot!"