On their way to find Will Stutely, Robin surprised Marian by suddenly asking, "May I ask you a question? It's personal."

"You may ask, but that doesn't mean I'll answer," she replied, her defenses taking hold at the word "personal."

Although serfs from Robin's village were all around them, the children felt as if they were all alone together, for they saw no one but each other. Robin cautiously lifted a finger and lightly touched a spot on the left side of Marian's face.

"What is this?" he asked, almost reverently.

Marian broke into a smile. "That's my ear," she told him, as though it were obvious.

"No, not your ear. This. This spot by your ear. It sparkles, like a teardrop, or a diamond."

Marian knew what he was referring to. She'd seen it before, in her mirror.

"It's nothing," she said, defensively. "Just something I was born with, like a mole."

She looked away, embarrassed and slightly angry. She didn't like people staring at her flaws. Especially not him.

But then, he said something that made her look straight back at him.

"My...my mother once told me it shows where an angel kissed you," Robin told her, somewhat hesitantly. "I'm not an angel, but..."

"My mother's an angel," Marian interrupted, very moved by Robin's words. "Maybe she kissed me before she flew up to Heaven."

"Maybe she did."

Robin watched Marian smile as she touched the tiny spot by her ear, no longer hating it as a flaw, but accepting it as something special. He was glad he'd made her smile, and feel good about the tiny spot on her skin he'd always found so unusual and attractive. But he wouldn't try to ask to kiss her again, not for several years more.

"Do you...do you miss your mother?" Robin asked gently now, missing his own very much.

Marian thought hard before she answered. "I suppose so. I never knew her. My father's so kind to me, I don't really think about it much. You...you miss yours, though, don't you?"

"Come on," Robin said brusquely. "Let's find Stute."

It wouldn't do to let her see his "weakness." He wanted to be strong for her, and refused to let her see him hurt. But Marian wasn't ready to end the conversation, not yet.

"I'm surprised you talked with your mother about me," she told Robin, running to keep up with his longer strides. "I mean, about my face."

He didn't answer at first, feeling small and exposed by talk of his mother. But he hid his vulnerability by answering with a wink and a grin, "Well, your face is something to talk about, alright!"

Marian felt annoyed. She wasn't sure whether he'd meant that as an insult, or a compliment. And why did he have to go ruin such a wonderful, deep conversation, by turning all smug and flippant? He really was the most exasperating boy she knew!

Arriving at last outside Will Stutely's cottage, Robin rapped his knuckles on the door and called, "Stute! It's me, Robin! May Marian and I come in? It's time for our archery competition."

Will Stutley didn't invite them in. Instead, he stepped outside to talk with the children.

"Well, look who's concerned about time, for once! What happened? It'll be raining cats and dogs next!"

"I'm just eager to beat you, is all," Robin explained, with a swagger.

"Well, you'll have to wait. Get along with you! I'm busy."

"Busy? Too busy to shoot? I don't think so."

"You don't know anything! Now, get!"

If Will Stutely was overly gruff with Robin today, it was because he was already missing the lad, for he was planning to accompany Lord Locksley to Ireland.

"You promised, Will! You promised we'd shoot, as soon as I got my bow back!"

Now that war had been announced, Will Stutely had no desire to shoot against a mere lad, and be bested. It wouldn't do for his confidence on the battlefield. He knew, from his previous experience at war, that his best chance for survival was to feel invincible, unconquerable. And he wouldn't feel that way if his last memory of home was being defeated by a boy whose head only came up to his chest.

"Promises give way, when war's afoot," Will explained, hating the fallen expression on Robin's face. "War's everything, Cock Robin, and don't you forget it! Nothing else matters, when your king calls you to fight! Not you, and not your promises. Your weapons, they're what matters! And now, I gotta go attend to mine."

"But, Will! You're not going to war!"

"Like hell, I'm not! Oh, sorry, Miss. But I am. I'm goin' with your father. Didn't think I'd let him go without the finest shot in the north of England goin' too, did you? Somebody has to be there to narrow the numbers of the men what want your Da dead. Now, get!"

So saying, Will strode back into his cottage and slammed the door shut.

Robin stood still, trying to process what he'd just heard.

Marian, seeing the hurt look on Robin's face, wanted to help him feel better. "Don't be sad," she told him. "I'll shoot against you, Robin."

Robin smiled down at her, touched and amused by her offer. "You're a good shot," he told her approvingly, "but it wouldn't be a fair competition, not until you get in some practice first. Let's just forget it, alright? Stute and I can have our competition when he returns."

"How long does war last?" Marian asked, taking hold of Robin's hand as they made their way back toward his house.

"I don't know. Not long, I think. Not with my father and King Henry leading the charge. I expect they'll be home in a matter of weeks."