"Robin, wake up! Bat's missing!"

Robin awoke to find Marian leaning over him, her lovely face etched with worry. "Marian!" he cried groggily, leaning up on his elbows. "I didn't mean what I said last night! I'm sorry."

"Never mind that," she said, her voice urgent. "Bat's gone, Robin!"

"Bat?"

The recent hours he'd spent in nightmares made it difficult to shake the sleep from him. When comprehension struck at last, he bolted to his feet and sprang into action.

"What do you know?" he asked, reaching for his bow and quiver.

Marian could scarcely breathe, so great was her panic. "It's my fault," she told him. "I lay down in his bunk with him, and must have crowded him. When I awoke, he was gone, and no one's seen him."

"No," Robin said, tenderly stroking her cheek. "You're not to blame. He wouldn't mind you sleeping beside him. Trust me."

"Where can he be?" she asked.

"Probably just wandered off, and got distracted. He's never tasted freedom before, and-"

Robin paused, thinking he guessed where Bat must be. "I think I know where he is! Come on!"

Before dashing off to the meadow where they'd conducted Bat's archery lesson, Robin first viewed his camp. He froze, feeling a sense of foreboding, when he saw Bat's small bow among the other weapons.

"Master, what do we do?" Much asked.

"He's got his pipes with him, right?" Robin asked, strapping on his sword.

"I think so," Marian said, her voice sounding small. "He fell asleep clutching them."

"Good. Then he can blow on them if he's lost, or-"

"Or what?" Much demanded.

"Shut up," Allan scolded, his devil-may-care attitude absent for once.

"We'll split up and search for him," Robin decided. "Pairs. Will and Djaq, head east. John, you and Much go west. Marian and I will look north."

"Oi!" Allan objected. "Why do I get stuck with Kate? She's not even awake!"

"Wake her up, and search to the south. Meet back here in two hours. And Much, keep quiet, so you can listen for Bat's pipes."

"I won't say anything!"

"Good."

The outlaws set off in their designated directions, leaving Allan alone with Kate. With a frustrated sigh, he nudged her awake.

"Oi! Kate! Wake up! We gotta look for Bat!"

Kate sat up, squinting her eyes at morning's light, looking even more foul than usual. "Where's Robin?" she asked.

"Off lookin' for Bat, which is what we gotta do, too. Get up."

"Bat?" she asked, feeling guilty. Then, reminding herself she'd snuck the boy away and left him at Nottingham Castle, all to save Robin, she felt better. But nothing would induce her to admit what she'd done.

"Alright," she agreed. "But I gotta go pee first."

...

Isabella narrowed her eyes as she studied the small boy sleeping on the floor in a corner of her bedchamber. Now, she asked herself, what should she do with her brother's bastard child? She let her mind dwell on last night's events.

Unable to sleep, she had taken a walk through the castle, and had been surprised when she nearly collided with Kate.

The two women despised each other on many levels, but the foundation of their hatred was their rivalry for Robin's affections.

"What are you doing here?" Isabella had sneered. "One little word from me, and I can have you arrested."

"Shut up. I'm here, saving Robin."

"Robin's been captured? How? When?"

"He's sleeping, back at camp. But he's not safe, with this one around." Kate pushed Bat forward, in full view of Isabella.

The tiny boy was so tired, he could barely stand. He was terrified as well, and hurt and confused, thinking Robin wanted to be rid of him.

"Give him to me," Isabella ordered, pulling Bat to her. "After all, he's my nephew, tainted though he is with peasant blood."

Satisfied to have disposed of Bat safely, Kate readjusted her hood and ran away, heading home to Sherwood.

Isabella's mind returned to the present, letting it treacherously tick off the various ways the bastard might prove useful to her.

He wouldn't serve as a means to manipulate Guy. Guy cared nothing for the brat, and she couldn't expose him, for everyone already knew he was the boy's father. So, could she use the little bastard to strike back at Robin, for deserting her the moment he discovered Marian was not really dead? What would be the most delicious way to hurt the handsome outlaw, and his pure hearted wife?

"Of course!" Isabella gloated, smiling with satisfaction.

Scanning the many vials of potions on her shelves, Isabella carefully selected one.

"Ah, yes!" she said, pursing her thin lips together in a smile of grim satisfaction. "Valarian root, mixed with a generous dose of wolfsbane! The very thing to bring on a nice, slow, painful demise. Poor little Bat! No one will be the wiser that you didn't simply waste away from ill health. And the Gisbourne family escrutcheon will be free, at least, from one of Guy's mistakes. A win win situation, I'd call it."

Removing the vial's stopper, she poured a few drops into a chalice of milk, then gently woke the boy.

"Good morning, Bat," she said. "Don't be afraid. I'm your Aunt Isabella, and I'll take care of you. Here, drink this milk. It will make you strong."