Preparing himself for anything, Robin almost felt let down when stepping from his coach and being respectfully greeted by sheriff's men patrolling the fairgrounds.

"Welcome, my lord, milady," several soldiers said, bowing their heads. "Enjoy the fair."

"Thank you," Robin acknowledged, calling each of them by name. Offering Marian his arm after setting Ellen atop his shoulders, he quietly told his wife, "Looks to be an ordinary day at the fair, after all!"

"I hope so," Marian answered back, clearly relieved. "What shall we do first? Ellie might like the puppet show."

A juggler passed by, seeming to swallow a flaming torch. Ellen's eyes grew wide as saucers.

"What do you want to see first, Boo?" Robin asked her.

"Horsies!" she replied, enthusiastically.

Robin and Marian smiled at one another, pleased with their daughter's choice. Robin wanted to get a better look at the dappled grey he was planning to buy to surprise Marian, provided she showed any interest in the gelding.

Before reaching the horses, they stopped to greet Little John, standing alone on a platform, with only his staff for company.

"John!" Robin called out, delighted to see him. "What are you doing up there?"

"Waiting for someone with balls enough to fight me," he growled, pleased all the same at seeing Robin and Marian.

Robin wished his friend had expressed himself in more polite terms around his wife and child, but Marian only smiled, while Ellen pointed to the juggler who was now tossing five balls up in the air.

"Against you, with quarterstaffs?" Robin laughed. "Wait until the ale booths open. There's bound to be a few fools drunk enough to take on your challenge."

"Willwee!" Ellen suddenly cried, spying the nag Robin had sold James Fitzhugh the day before.

Marian was embarrassed for the chancellor, since he didn't know enough about horseflesh to recognize he looked a complete fool astride such an ignoble beast. What was more, he was having difficulty controlling the horse and keeping his seat in the saddle. Still, he held his head high, believing he looked formidably lordlike upon his new horse, oblivious to the snickers surrounding him.

Reaching Robin at the base of Little John's platform stage, he struggled down from the saddle, his thighs and bottom clearly sore, held onto his own reins, and confronted Locksley.

Willy the horse neighed with pleasure and nuzzled Marian, while Robin handed his daughter to her mother, hoping the child's delight at petting the horse would draw her attention away from his upcoming unpleasant interview.

"Glad to see you're enjoying Willy," Robin smirked. "I hope you're treating him well."

"I didn't come here to talk horses, Locksley," the chancellor barked.

Sensing a threat to his beloved friend and former leader, Little John strode protectively nearer, brandishing his staff.

"No?" Robin asked, cocking an eyebrow. "No talk of horses at a horse fair? You're clearly outnumbered then, it would seem." Making his point obvious, Robin folded his arms across his chest, then threw Little John a meaningful glance.

Marian, meanwhile, though pretending to focus all her attention on Ellen and their former horse, was watching and listening intently, well aware of every subtle nuance and threat.

"My wife could not come today," the chancellor coldly continued. "Would you like to know why?"

"I'm sorry to hear that," Robin answered, still smirking. "A bouquet of flowers and a stroll through the moonlight might help."

Little John erupted into a huge snort of laughter, but Marian drew in her breath. No, Robin. Don't play with fire.

His gibe was not lost on the chancellor, whose face flushed with anger. "My wife is not here because she has taken to her bed!" he shouted, losing his cool, calculated presence in the face of Locksley's smug arrogance. "She is crying, my Lord Locksley! Crying her eyes out, due to you!"

Robin grew suddenly serious. "I am truly sorry if I have upset your wife," he said, sincerely. "Believe me, it was not intentional. But let me ask you this. If she's so upset, why are you here and not by her side, comforting her?"

Fitzhugh regained his cold, icey stance. "I am here, Locksley, to watch you pay."

"What are you planning to do? Arrest me again, for a crime I didn't commit? I doubt the Queen Mother will approve, will she, John?"

Little John uttered a grunt of warning, fixing his dark, threatening eyes on the chancellor.

"There are other ways of making you pay. For instance, my wife tells me you are famous for never turning down a challenge."

"It's an easy thing to do, considering I almost always win."

The chancellor sneered, hating the handsome young lord. "Then take my challenge, and fight that brute with a quarterstaff."

Robin snickered, pointing at Little John with his thumb. "That is one challenge even I won't take! I made that mistake once before, over a bridge in Sherwood, and landed flat on my back in the stream, bruised and sore for weeks."

"Robin," Little John growled, "take it. Fight me."

"You know you want to," Marian whispered to him. "You'll enjoy it, as well as getting that goon off your back."

Robin's entire face lit up. He guessed he wouldn't stand a chance of winning, but it would be fun, all the same. And, as Marian said, it might give James Fitzhugh enough satisfaction so that he could be done with his unfounded jealousy and evil accusations.

"Alright!" Robin announced. "But don't let Ellie watch. She's too young to understand, it'll all be in fun."

"Kiss Daddy for luck," Marian instructed their daughter, then followed by kissing Robin's scruffy cheek as well. "I'll be right back! Don't start without me!"

Word spread quickly, and a crowd soon gathered around the platform, everyone eager to watch a bout between the famous Robin Hood and Little John. Wagers were placed, as many for Robin as for Little John, but James Fitzhugh scowled, unhappy that Locksley was so enjoying himself, the darling of the crowd.

By the time Robin had selected a staff, Marian returned, having left Ellen in the capable hands of Bridget Thornton, who took the small child off to see the horses and to watch the puppet show.

The show on the platform was far more entertaining, however, for not only were the spectators treated to a display of uncommon strength and skill, they enjoyed all the good natured ribbing Robin was giving John. Before long, however, the fight grew more serious, for Robin could almost hold his own against the giant, making up in quickness and agility what he lacked in size and strength.

Marian was so enjoying watching her husband enjoy himself, she didn't notice Queen Isabella sidle up to her.

"Mmmm," Isabella hummed, licking her lips. "This is more than worth the price of admission to the fair! Look at Robin, all sweaty! Salty, too, I shouldn't wonder. Mmmm. I remember just how he tasted, all sweaty from putting out that fire in your village church! He tasted smoky, too, that day, I recall, when he buried himself within my loins, pounding away."

"If you mean to hurt me by your disgusting reminiscences, Your Majesty," Marian snapped back, "you're wasting your breath."

"What? Have you finally reconciled yourself to the fact that Robin and I-"

"It meant nothing. You're shameless to even mention it."

"You forget yourself! I am your queen!"

Biting her lips, Marian gave a brief nod to her head, unable by law to do anything else. Isabella's lips drew back in an arch smile. "So, do you ever hear from my brother?"

Still watching the contest, Marian couldn't help but gasp. "Do you?" she asked.

"Guy wouldn't write to me. We've always hated one another. But you! He loved you, and your feelings for him, as I understand, were quite complicated. Perhaps they still are."

"They never were. I only hope he's found peace, and is choosing to live the life of a decent man now, instead of a killer."

"Oh, that's right. I'd forgotten he stabbed you. Too bad he didn't stay and finish the job, when he had the chance. But then again, I heard he did the same thing to Robin. And both times, in Acre! What a coincidence!"

Marian didn't speak, intent on watching the battle of staffs, hoping Isabella would simply go away. Nonetheless, the queen's words had brought back memories of Gisbourne she wished she could forget. Not only could she picture him lunging toward her with his swordblade, but even worse to her, she pictured him slapping her frail father hard across his face, then pressuring her into agreeing to marry him.

So preoccupied was she between watching Robin and Little John exchange friendly yet still dangerous blows, and her memories of Guy of Gisbourne, she didn't notice the danger about to threaten her.

Robin, enjoying his fight, froze for a moment, staring into the crowd. He could have sworn he'd heard Marian cry out, "Get off me!"

"Marian!" he shouted out, seeing his wife struggling as she was being hauled away by two burly men.

Little John didn't notice where Robin was looking. Instead, he saw his chance to end the fight. With a mighty blow, he brought his staff down upon Robin's head, knocking him senseless.

"Good work, Big Bear," Isabella sneered, exchanging a satisfied smile with England's chancellor.