Bound like an animal, stripped of his weapons, Robin was unceremoniously hauled and shoved to his knees before the throne of King Philip of France. The French King smiled wryly and laughed quietly under his breath, enjoying the spectacle for a few short moments before ordering the prisoner unbound.

"Robin of Locksley! Welcome to France! Tell me, how are you finding my country so far?"

"You know what they say, Your Majesty. 'There's no place like home.' "

Robin stood solidly facing King Philip. They hadn't met since immediately following the Battle of Acre, when Philip, furious at the Lionheart, had left the Holy Land to travel home. Ever the schemer, Philip had thought to take advantage of Richard's absence and conquer his Angevin territories surrounding France. He had been unsuccessful, until John had succeeded his brother to the throne.

Philip stood, removed his bonnet, and ran a hand over his completely bald head. Although but thirty-five, he appeared much older.

"So, Locksley, what are you doing so far from home? I would have assumed you'd seen enough war in Outremer to last you a lifetime. As much as you fawned upon him, you are not Coeur de lion. You have not his stomach for killing."

"You are right, Your Majesty. I have killed enough. I'm only following orders."

"Ever the loyal and obediant servant, eh? Even when you despise your master?"

"I serve the Crown. I serve England."

"I see."

Philip circled Robin slowly, then returned to sit upon his throne.

"I cannot risk you fighting against me. I will not give up all I have gained...all I stand to gain!"

As an idea began to take shape in Philip's mind, he rubbed his hands together, devising his scheme.

"I shall hold you for ransom!" he cried at last. "John shall have you back, when he delivers me Arthur!"

Robin grew increasingly attentive.

"Your Majesty, has King John got Arthur? My friend and I have been searching for him for months. Awhile back, His Highness sensed danger and asked me to protect him and his sister. I failed. They went missing, and no one seems to know their whereabouts."

Philip narrowed his eyes and chuckled under his breath at Robin's earnestness.

"My friend, you have been wasting your time if you think you can find Arthur. Eleanor...perhaps. I do not know what John has done with her. But, your cousin Arthur is already dead."

Robin eyes grew wide at the dreadful news, increasing Philip's pleasure.

"It is common knowledge. Do you not know that John murdered him by his own hands? Then had his body, weighted with stones, flung into the river to be food for fish?"

"When did this happen?" Robin demanded, his shock giving way to anger.

"Months and months ago. Right after Arthur disappeared. You are not surprised, surely. Or do you believe your king incapable of such an act?"

Robin was silent, taking in Philip's news, sadly remembering his young cousin who had trusted him for protection.

"Now, you shall be shown to your chambers. Not a dungeon cell, Locksley, never fear! You are my guest! But, you may not leave me, until John trades you for Arthur." He laughed quietly again, rubbing his hands together in malicious glee. "Meanwhile, John's army shall flounder, without you as its leader. I shall win all of Normandy, as well as its surrounding provences. But never fear, John can keep your foggy little island...for now. Adieu, Locksley."

At that, Robin was surrounded, pushed and shoved toward his elegant chambers, where he was securely locked and bolted in.

...

Far away in Locksley, young Allan and Seth were enjoying the early summer sunshine, as they played outdoors with their friends, Daniel and Saffia Scarlet. Robin's little girls, Ellen and Grace wanted to play, too, and the older children were nice enough to let them. The girls' nurse Mattie rested on a bench under a tree, dozing off in the mild sunshine as the drone of bees in a nearby hive lulled her to sleep.

Annie had sent the boys away, desiring them to play in the fresh air, to keep them from getting underfoot while she cleaned her new house. Her wonderful husband Allan, very successful as proprietor of The Trip to Jerusalem Inn, had purchased the house in Nottingham for his new family, realizing that upstairs lodgings in the Trip may have been fine for a bachelor, but were hardly the thing for a growing family.

"Not bein' funny, but I'm thirsty," young Allan complained, after coming in third in a footrace, behind Seth and Daniel.

"There's a well," Saffia pointed. "Go help yourself."

"Shouldn't you go fetch the water?" Allan asked.

"Why? Because I'm a girl?"

"Are you? I never noticed." Already, he had an eye for the beautiful olive skinned child.

She merely smiled at him, and when her twin brother Daniel moved beside her and smiled at him, too, Allan gave in.

"Alright, alright! I'll go fetch some for us all. Who's got a bucket?"

With a superior air, Seth handed Allan a bucket.

"So," Allan asked, "who's coming with me? Or do I have to do it all myself?"

"I go," Grace volunteered. The other children laughed, but Allan didn't mind.

"Alright, you can tag along. I like you and Ellen better than the rest of them, anyhow."

He let Grace ride piggyback to the well, then sat her on its edge, facing out. She dangled her chubby little legs over the sides, while Allan pulled the rope to raise the submerged bucket.

"Nice fresh water, Grace. As much as we want. We'll see if we let them have any!"

Allan was only joking. He was a good natured boy, but he hadn't liked losing, especially not in front of Saffia.

"There!" he said, as the bucket from the well's bottom appeared. "Look, Gracie! You get the second drink, right after me!"

The tiny tot reached for the bucket, leaned too far, and fell into the well before Allan knew what had happened.

"Grace!" he screamed! "Help!"

His cries roused Mattie from her nap. She stood and waddled as quickly as her legs could carry her to the well, praying all the way for baby Grace's safety.

But Seth had seen what happened, and he was quicker on strong young legs than Mattie. He dashed to the well and dove into it without a moment's hesitation. He pulled a sputtering Grace from under the water, held her on one shoulder, and shouted for Allan to drop down the bucket.

"Drop it! You can use it to pull us up, or at least give me something to hold onto until you find a stronger rope."

But it held quite well, and in no time at all, Grace was in Mattie's arms, none the worse for her dunk, but wailing for her mother. Marian heard her cries and came running from the manor to cradle her wet child, who stopped crying the moment her mother held her.

When Marian learned what had happened, she quickly comforted Allan, who was berating himself for setting Grace on the edge of the well, and thanked Seth in glowing terms for his bravery.

"Come inside," she invited all the children. "You can put on some of Lord Robin's clothing while your things dry, Seth. They'll be a bit big, but it'll only be for a short while. Would you children like something to eat? Cook has just finished baking strawberry tarts."

When both wet children were dressed in dry clothing, happily feasting with their friends on strawberry tarts and fresh cream, and Marian was finally able to tear her eyes away from Grace, she found herself carrying on a conversation in her head with her husband.

"Now, don't get too big of a head, Robin, but I have to admit you were right about Seth. I wish you were here to see how he saved Grace. You couldn't have done any better yourself. So, I hope you don't mind I let him borrow some of your clothes. He looks splendid, though not half so handsome as you look in them."

She moved to the table and sat with the children, pulling Ellen onto her lap. Ellen's mouth was stained with strawberry filling from the tart, but Marian didn't mind one bit when her daughter planted a sticky kiss on her cheek. She simply held her tighter and wished with all her heart her husband would come home to them soon.