Robin had just made it to his cabin before collapsing from exhaustion. Even if he had not exerted himself physically, what he had had to witness had simply been too much for him. Then, however, he realized that his sleep was not as restful as he would have liked, for once again the images of Gisburne's execution haunted him in a nightmare. Again, he had to witness his head rolling at his feet. Therefore, it was not surprising that the next morning he was not able to deal with what he had seen.
In order not to brood over the fate of his friends - and that of Gisburne - he went to the healer with whom he worked. She was quite surprised to see him, but was pleased to receive his unexpected support. The fact that she also refrained from asking him why he had not stayed away as long as he had planned to, astonished Robin. So far, he had never had the impression that any of his people were capable of showing consideration for another person. Especially not someone they didn't regard as their equal. Robin had to admonish himself, for he had actually stopped to think of the members of his people as individual persons, and he should not make such a mistake. He also could not judge all Humans according to what a few did, for if one chose the wrong persons - in this respect, of course, Gisburne or the sheriff came to his mind first - then one would get a completely wrong impression of the Humans as a whole. It was not likely to be any different with his people.
For two more days he managed to avoid reflecting on what he had come to see and hear - although Gisburne's execution haunted him again during the nights - but then he had regained his composure to the point where he asked for time off again. Now, in fact, he thought he might venture an attempt to answer some of his questions. Then again, it could just as well happen that he had to admit to himself that he had not yet found an answer. But whatever the outcome, he was now aware that he could no longer avoid dealing with his visions.
But to do so, he had to leave his hut. He couldn't say why that was, but here he was simply unable to ponder the whole matter. Very briefly he had the idea to withdraw to his favorite place - here under the Hill - but then that didn't seem to suit him either. Therefore, he finally decided to go on a walking tour. So far, he had only seen a small part of the area where his people lived, and he didn't even know how big the realm of the Sidhe under the Hill actually was. For this reason, he set out on the third day to explore the area - after he had had breakfast. He already knew he had not far to go to a beautiful, mist-shrouded lake, which he had avoided until now for the reason that it was too similar to Darkmere for his taste. Now, however, he made his way there, no longer wanting to let that memory keep him from getting to know it.
Once there, he began to circle the body of water, quickly realizing that in some places he had to stay quite far away from the edge of the water. The ground looked solid where the reeds grew, but this impression was deceptive and it occurred to him more than once that he sunk up to his knees in the mud and had trouble getting out again.
All at once, however, he reached a rocky promontory, surrounded on three sides by reeds, which nevertheless afforded him a wonderful view of the lake on the fourth side. Admittedly, only as far as the mist that lay above the surface of the water allowed. This spot positively attracted Robin and he finally settled down there. He was amazed at the sense of peace he perceived there.
At first, he just sat there for quite some time, staring out over the water, until finally his eyes were drawn to the smooth surface of the lake - directly in front of him. The water was so clear at this point that he could easily make out the rocky promontory that stretched further into the lake underwater. He was surprised, however, by the fact that he could see his reflection so well against the dark background, for until now he had avoided looking at himself for more than brief moments. This was due to the fact that he had not wanted to admit to himself that he was no longer the same since he had returned under the Hill. Now, however, this seemed to him a good point to start his reflections.
And so, he leaned over the water and contemplated the face that looked back at him from there. During his time in the human world - during his life - he had not so often had the opportunity to examine his reflection, but nevertheless he had a good idea of how he had looked, even if it had never seemed important to him. Therefore, it didn't escape him that his face actually looked different now than it had before. His cheekbones protruded more, his chin was more pointed, and his eyes appeared slightly larger. But it was mainly his ears that showed quite distinctly that he was not human, and for this reason he had not wanted to show them to anyone. Looking at his reflection now, he brushed back his long dark hair and examined the ears, which tapered to the top and which he had preferred to hide rather than accept them.
Perhaps that was why the others were of the opinion that he still seemed more like a human than a member of his people. He didn't know, for he hadn't dared to ask the others about it, instead he had convinced himself it must be due to his behavior. But he had noticed that most of the others were very fond of showing off their ears, especially when dealing with humans. It hadn't escaped his notice that although the healer wore her hair differently every day, her ears were always visible. He had just never wanted to give it a second thought.
Although he hadn't wanted to be reminded each day that he had changed physically, he had tried to figure out the reason for it. He had wanted to know what had caused him to suddenly look different after returning under the Hill, but the answers to his questions had not convinced him. The statement that this was not something he should worry about had not really helped him, just as little as the one that he could not do anything about it. None of the others - not even the healer - had deigned to say anything concrete, and he shied away as well from asking about this topic since it was something very personal to him. On the other hand, no one could expect him to overlook these changes so easily, and for this reason he decided to learn more about what had happened. In doing so, he did not put himself in any danger, since these questions only showed the others that he, too, had a healthy curiosity.
In other matters, he still could not afford to ask any direct questions, for that would have given his people a hint of what he was capable of. He still wanted to avoid that at all costs, although he urgently needed information. But he didn't like the manner in which he was being treated here. He didn't like being given the impression that he wasn't worth as much as those of his people who had spent their entire lives here under the Hill. It reminded him too much of how the Normans treated the English people, and it was against this oppression that he had fought all his time in Sherwood. His views on this had not suddenly changed simply because he had died. For this reason, he had no choice but to ask his questions very circumspectly.
While he had been pondering, his gaze had strayed into the distance, but now he was looking again at the surface of the water. But this turned out not to be a good idea, for to his horror he caught sight of Gisburne's face there instead of his reflection. Immediately he closed his eyes and concentrated on not getting into a vision, for he wanted to avoid that under all circumstances when being here at the lake. This was one of those locations where the others might assume he could have a vision, and then they might wonder where that vision had led him. Was it possible, he wondered, to simply look at a person and thereby determine if that person had a vision? He was terrified by the idea of such a possibility, and he fervently hoped that it was nothing more than a fabrication of his mind. If there really were persons with this ability, then all his precautions would be in vain.
He consciously inhaled and exhaled deeply to calm his nerves. No one had ever talked about such a thing being possible, but he wasn't sure they would have told him either. Again, he had to calm his nerves. There was absolutely no point in driving himself crazy now, since that would only lead to him not being able to do anything anymore. And under no circumstances could he allow himself to do that. If he wanted to figure out what had happened to his friends, then he had no choice but to take this risk. And this decision meant returning to Sherwood, since he had so far only learned what had happened to Gisburne and Robert of Huntingdon. He still had not been able to answer the question why Tuck was back with the sheriff, but also not why his successor had suddenly again been his father's heir. Moreover, he also wondered what could be responsible for the fact that Gisburne was now killing people so casually. Of course, Robin was aware that the knight had not been squeamish before, but his behavior had nonetheless surprised him.
And of course, he had not forgotten Marion. Where might Nasir have taken her and what had happened to her there? And why had it looked as though his friend was again in the clutches of Belleme? These were the questions he had to find an answer to first, but there was no way he could do that here at the lake. As beautiful as it actually was here.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Before calling up the vision, he hadn't really taken time to consciously think about his search, as he had no idea to which place - or to which moment - he should go. Nevertheless, he knew immediately where he was, even if the place didn't look like he remembered it, but he was sure that the castle in front of him was that of the Baron de Belleme. He had already entered it twice, though both times he had found it in a state of decay, more so on the later visit, of course, than when he had rescued Marion. At that time, he had killed the Master of the Castle, and after that, there was no one left to take care of it.
Now, however, there was nothing to be seen of decay, nor of neglect. There were no breaches in the walls surrounding the buildings, the gate was closed with a portcullis and guarded, soldiers lingered in the castle bailey, as well as servants - all of whom wore the baron's crest on their chests - and the smoke of numerous fires drifted from the chimneys of the solid-looking main building - the castle proper. In other words, the castle appeared to be inhabited. And it did not look as if it had been repaired only recently. If Robin did not know who resided here, he would have no doubt that it had been inhabited for years. It seemed to him that the baron had had possession of it all the time.
And this raised further questions. Robin could remember that de Belleme had left Nottinghamshire after his resurrection because he could not raise enough money to repair his residence. In that regard, it didn't help that he was feared by both the country folk and his noble neighbors. At the time, it was rumored that he had gone back to the Holy Land, perhaps knowing of places where treasures could be found, or perhaps to further strengthen his magical powers before returning. But until his death, Robin had heard nothing more from him. In fact, he had forgotten him.
But the castle gave the impression that the baron had never left, and this would then be another example of an event that did not coincide with Robin's memories, just like the attack on Clun Castle and the death of Lord Owen. Even though it had happened after his death, he had seen Robert of Huntingdon along with his friends in a vision and he had had no doubt that it had actually happened that way. But in the meantime, he had observed in another vision Owen of Clun being killed by Gisburne, and now he did not know which of the two visions had shown him the real incident.
He could not know, of course, what time it was now here, but he assumed that it was after the battle at Clun Castle. After all, he had been thinking hard about Marion and where Nasir might have taken her. He had barely given it another thought when he was already moving toward the castle and then suddenly found himself standing in one of the chambers within.
Before he had a chance to look around the room, the door was opened and the Baron de Belleme stepped through. The man looked exactly as Robin remembered him, slim, tall, and dressed from head to toe in black, on his head a tight cap, also black. Robin flinched, for his dark eyes seemed to be fixed directly on the former outlaw. Did his magical abilities allow the baron to actually see him, even though he wasn't really here? For a brief moment, it even crossed his mind whether he was possibly more than a disembodied observer after all, before he understood that there must be someone directly behind him. Thereupon he immediately turned around.
He was startled once more, for now he was face to face with Marion, and he was so close to her that he would have touched her if this had not just been a vision. All of a sudden, he found himself so far away from the two people that he could look at both the baron and Marion at the same time without any problems.
When he now examined Marion at his leisure, he immediately noticed that she was pale and looked tired, but also frightened, although Robin assumed that she had arrived here not so long ago, for she was still wearing the same dark green dress as at Clun Castle.
The baron's words seemed to confirm Robin's thoughts. "My Lady", he greeted her with feigned friendliness, "welcome to Belleme Castle."
"My Lord Baron", Marion brought out in spite of her fear. Robin wasn't surprised that she gave the impression of not liking to be here, for when he remembered the manner she had been brought here, he couldn't blame her. He had only caught the beginning of her journey, but he could well imagine that the rest had not turned out much different. Marion, however, was trying to regain her composure, which Robin inferred from the fact that that arrogant expression appeared on her face again, which in his opinion did not suit her at all. But by now he had to admit to himself that this was not the Marion he knew, even if he still had no idea what had caused the change.
"You look a little tired, Lady Marion. Are you not feeling well?" The baron's attempt at concern - or what he considered it to be - had, in Robin's opinion, been a complete failure. But it would not have suited this man, who did not seem to have changed at all.
"Do you believe I would be able to sleep comfortably after your man dragged me here by force? What do you want from me anyway? And why have you locked me up in this room?" Marion gave the impression of just uttering all that was going through her mind at this moment, and she didn't even wait to see if de Belleme wanted to say anything in response. She wasn't finished with her questions either. "Or is there something to the old rumor that you want me for a wife after all?"
The baron had to laugh at her words, which didn't come out as especially friendly, though. Nor did it seem particularly sympathetic. Robin rather had the impression he was mocking his counterpart.
"Don't be afraid, my Lady", he finally managed to answer. "You are not here because I wish to marry you. But now I want you to accompany me, for I wish to introduce you to my other guest, my Lady."
Marion, however, did not immediately respond to his words. Perhaps she was considering whether she could afford to decline this invitation, but one look at the baron's mask-like face obviously told her that she had no choice in the matter. She would not be able to avoid leaving her chamber and accompanying her so-called host, even if it was probably the last thing she wanted to do. Nor could it have escaped her notice that she was not a guest of the baron, but his prisoner.
The question suddenly crossed Robin's mind as to what Marion's status on Clun had been? Guest or prisoner? Thinking of what Gisburne had said, the former outlaw assumed that Lord Owen had not kidnapped her. But this was also something Robin was still trying to figure out.
In the meantime, Marion had come to a decision and started to move. She had stepped past de Belleme and through the door, but then immediately stopped again. Robin could not see what the problem might be, but no sooner had he wondered what might be out there in the hallway than he found himself there. And thus, directly next to his friend Nasir. However, the latter differed quite a bit from the man Robin could remember and had seen in his first visions. Compared to him, this Nasir actually appeared like the sinister looking henchman of the baron, whom Robin had met during the rescue of Marion. After the baron's death, the other had spared him then, and the outlaw had in turn prevented his friends from killing the Saracen. This had then developed over time into a friendship between them, though different from that with his other friends. Which had never stopped Robin from considering him his friend, whereas he knew for certain that this Nasir here was not his friend.
At that moment it struck Robin that the three of his friends he had come to see in his last visions all seemed to him like people who had never known him. He could not recognize in them those people with whom he had lived and fought in Sherwood. This was true of Nasir, as well as Marion, but also of Tuck, and Robin was suddenly afraid to learn what had become of his other friends. And what had happened to his brother? What had happened to Much? He suddenly got cold when he imagined that maybe he had lost them all. And he had no idea what had happened.
"Don't worry, my Lady, as long as you don't try to attack me, Nasir will not harm you." The baron laughed again, perhaps thinking it funny to envision that this timid version of Marion might pounce on him.
Marion, however, obviously did not think of attacking the baron, for she started moving again and stepped out into the hallway, whereupon de Belleme followed closely behind her. Not to show her the way, however, for her chamber was the last one at the end of the passage. Nevertheless, he seemed to believe that he had to move to her side, which led to Nasir walking behind the two of them. And the former outlaw then hovered behind the three of them, so to speak. He wondered where the baron wanted to take her, but although he had been in the castle twice before, he didn't know this particular section, so he had no choice but to follow the others.
They were obviously on their way downstairs, for de Belleme directed his companion to the next staircase, and when they arrived at the floor below, it was only a short distance down a hallway until they reached another staircase. The next floor then looked much plainer and the brick walls of the passage they were now moving through had not been covered in plaster - like those further up in the castle. This passage was also only sparsely lit by some torches and made a somewhat eerie impression on Robin. And obviously also on Marion, because her steps had become more and more hesitant and slow, so that the baron took her by the arm and led her on in that manner, until they finally reached a larger and well-lit chamber. As soon as Robin entered it, he recognized it immediately.
Quite unlike Marion, who did not give the impression of having been here before. Robin considered this very surprising, since he had rescued her from this very room, after all. How could it be that she did not remember it, since she had been in danger of being sacrificed by the baron, who had believed that Robin was under his sway. But instead of Marion, de Belleme had died. How could she have forgotten that? He simply could not imagine what had happened to her, but it was almost as if none of it had taken place at all. But that was not possible, for he had lived through it himself. And he could remember everything. So why couldn't she?
Robin had hardly looked around the chamber for a bit, when he had already experienced the next surprises, for he had to realize that Marion and the baron were already expected here by some people, whom Robin had already met as well. Three of the four women were known to him only by sight, for they were the ones who assisted de Belleme in his magical rituals, at least that was the impression Robin had gained. They had always been near him within his castle, and they had been there when the baron used Marion as bait for Robin. After de Belleme's death they had had to flee from the castle, but some years later one of them had cast a spell on the outlaw to get possession of the silver arrow, with which she then resurrected the baron. And no sooner had de Belleme now entered the room than they surrounded him again.
But it was the fourth of these women who frightened Robin the most, for she was Morgwyn of Ravenscar, the false abbess who had tried to summon Satan and whom he and his friends had only been able to stop at the last moment. Again, she was clad in her order's habit, but he would never forget this face. But Marion should also remember her, yet again she had not reacted, just as she had not reacted to this room. Again, she gave Robin the impression that she had never seen the devil worshipper before, although Robin remembered exactly how she had attempted to use Albion for her own purposes. Again, he wondered what could possibly be going on here.
"Lady Marion", the baron let himself be heard, "may I present Morgwyn, the Abbess of Ravenscar."
"An abbess?" wondered Marion, without greeting the woman or showing her the deference that her position actually entitled her to. Apparently, she considered her presence here rather odd. "What could an abbess have to do with you, Baron? If you're going to tell me now that you've turned away from your magic and toward the church, I wouldn't buy it, for looking around here, all I can say is that it doesn't look like it."
It suddenly seemed to Robin that the presence of the false abbess had taken away some of Marion's anxiousness, but to him that was just further proof that she really couldn't remember the woman. If that were not so, she should have been much more afraid now. At that moment he would have liked to leave this vision immediately, for all this troubled him quite a bit. He was now afraid that this time, too, it would get as bad as the last time, when he had had to watch Gisburne murder first Owen of Clun and then Robert of Huntingdon. However, he had already regarded the execution of the knight as terrifying, too.
But Robin also knew that he would not give in to the urge to get out of here. If he gave in to it, he would never know what had happened to his friends. He simply couldn't forget that everything he was about to see had already happened in the past, and he wouldn't change anything if he left here now. Still, he felt extremely uncomfortable.
"Abbess Morgwyn is a friend of mine", de Belleme explained. "She is here because I promised her my help in solving a problem." His smile was no less false than before.
"But for what reason then have you had me brought here, my Lord?" Fear had crept into Marion's voice once again, and Robin would have liked to take her in his arms.
"My Lady, you are my contribution to the solution of the problem", de Belleme enlightened her and now his smile was so unpleasant that it made Robin feel nauseous. And his words sent a cold shiver down his spine, for now he really had to assume the worst. His whole world seemed to have come apart completely and he didn't know what he could do about it. He had to wipe some tears from his face, though he was sure he couldn't change anything. He was certain he couldn't save Marion as he was nothing more than a helpless observer. No different than when Gisburne was executed.
"But...", Marion stammered, stunned, but that was all she could get out, for the baron had beckoned to his three women, who immediately took her into their midst.
"Prepare her!" he ordered them, whereupon they hurried her out the door. With a motion of his head the baron sent the Saracen after them.
"What do you want from me, my Lord Baron?", Robin heard Marion call out as she was already being led away, but de Belleme did not react to her, for he was already busy otherwise. He had taken a bowl filled with a viscous dark liquid and now began to draw something on the floor between the massive stone table and the pentagram hung upright. To do this, he dipped the fingers of his left hand into this liquid, which Robin - at least for a brief moment - hoped was not blood. But almost at the same moment he realized that this hope would not be met. As he approached de Belleme, he realized that the latter was creating another pentagram with skillful strokes, intoning in a low voice something in a language unknown to Robin. In all likelihood, it was a spell.
Morgwyn, meanwhile, had removed her abbess's habit and was now standing next to the table in a thin red dress that accentuated rather than concealed the shape of her body. Her long, dark hair fell openly far down her back and was restrained only by a slim golden circlet.
When the baron had finished the five-pointed star, he looked over at the abbess. He waited for her to nod and then handed her the bowl with the liquid, whereupon she set about tracing the lines until they were finally all twice as wide as before. She had also intoned a spell as she did so. Then, when she had finished, the baron handed her a piece of cloth, probably so that she could clean her fingers as he had done, but she had already begun to lick off the blood, and her face took on an expression of rapture as she did so. Robin had to turn away for a moment, remembering again what had happened back in the abbey. He didn't like it at all that something like that should be repeated here.
"We shouldn't waste any more time!" These were the first words the abbess had uttered since Robin had been present as an observer, and to him they smacked entirely of an order. Was she the one in charge here?
"It takes time to prepare the girl. We cannot afford to make a mistake at this stage. You know that as well as I do. For this reason, I still have the time to use my medium", the baron replied with astonishing calm, and then beckoned to someone who had been lingering in the shadows behind the pentagram and thus had not caught Robin's eye until now.
"Once I summon my master, your demon won't have much to say, Simon", the abbess replied to him contemptuously, but her reaction didn't seem to bother de Belleme. Or perhaps he was just completely focused on the man who approached him with slow steps, giving the impression of sleepwalking.
"John!" Robin cried out in shock when he recognized the giant, and then looked around in panic, fearing that he had given himself away. Only then did he remember that he wasn't really here. But that didn't change the fact that the sight of his friend pained him. A friend whom he - just like Marion - had not been able to find during his search in Sherwood. And then he remembered something else. He had not been able to find his successor either, and by now he knew that he had already been dead at the time of his search. Was that the reason why he couldn't find his friends either? Were they perhaps all dead? Could that really be? And did that mean that Marion and John had died, too? Then what about Will and Much? This was not something Robin wanted to believe, but what could he do? He was just an observer, after all.
Meanwhile, John had reached the pentagram drawn on the floor, carefully stepped over the lines, and stopped in the middle. Again, the baron began to recite a spell in a monotone voice. At least Robin assumed it was such, for what else could he utter in such a situation.
John laid his head back and extended his arms out to the side at shoulder height. Then suddenly his whole body stiffened and his eyes rolled back in his head so far that finally only the whites were visible. He opened his mouth as if to start speaking, but he did not produce a single sound. He remained rigid - and mute - in the center of the pentagram until all at once he began to tremble, and the longer the ritual lasted, the stronger this tremor grew, until Robin wondered how the giant could still stand on his feet at all.
"I guess your demon has nothing more to say to you", Morgwyn stated snootily.
The baron snapped his fingers twice and John slumped, but Robin could tell to his relief that he was still breathing. Perhaps he had been mistaken earlier in assuming his friends were dead after all. He fervently hoped so.
"I take it as a good sign", de Belleme replied. "It does imply that we can stick to our plan."
John had managed to rise again and leave the pentagram, but he did not vanish back into the shadows, instead stopping a few paces away. Now that Robin took the time to examine him more closely, he noticed that his friend looked almost the same as when he had first met him. He wore the same kind of clothes, had the same symbol on his bare chest, and showed the same blank expression on his face. The only difference Robin noticed was that he had gray streaks in his hair and beard and wrinkles on his face. He certainly looked much older than Robin remembered him.
Then - unexpectedly for Robin - Belleme's women reappeared in the chamber with Marion, followed by Nasir, however the Saracen stopped in front of the door and directed his gaze down the passage. Marion was now wearing a simple white garment and neither shoes nor jewelry. Her hair, which she had previously braided into a complicated plait, now fell open down her back. When Robin looked into her face, he noticed that she was as white as a whitewashed wall, with her eyes wide open and her lips parted, as if she could not breathe easily enough. The outlaw immediately had the impression that she would have collapsed if the three women had not been holding her. Obviously, they had done more than just put her in another dress, because she was trembling with fear.
Robin breathed deeply, trying to prepare himself for the fact that he was about to witness something terrible. When he had started the search for his friends, he had not assumed they might be dead. But if that was indeed the reason he couldn't find them, then he at least owed it to them to find out what had happened. And then he had to find a way to punish the guilty party.
De Belleme signaled the women to bring Marion to him. Then, when she stood in front of him, he held her chin with one hand and looked deeply into her eyes while intoning another spell. At first Marion tried to wriggle out of the women's grip, but after the baron turned to face her, she very quickly quieted down. Unnaturally quiet, Robin thought, considering all the circumstances. Then, when de Belleme stopped speaking, the three women let go of Marion, and she just stood there, not moving. Apparently, the spell had done its work and brought her under the baron's control. The outlaw knew what it was like to be bewitched, for that was exactly what had happened to him back when Lilith had made him hand over the silver arrow to her. Therefore, he was aware that Marion had had no way to defend herself against it. Even Herne had not been able to protect him.
"Lie down within the pentagram", de Belleme ordered Marion, and she obeyed without delay. She carefully stepped over the lines the baron and the abbess had drawn on the floor and then settled down inside the five-pointed star. When she finally lay completely still on her back, she also closed her eyes.
For a moment no one stirred, but then Morgwyn of Ravenscar approached and she held a sword in her hands. She offered it towards the ceiling, exclaiming loudly, "Morax!" before placing it at one of the points of the star, the blade pointing outward while the pommel touched the line of blood. In horror, Robin realized that she had placed the swords on the stone table that she had then used in her attempt to summon Satan. The swords of Wayland. Had she gotten her hands on Albion again, too? He would have liked to look at the names on the blades, but he was unable to approach the table. Was this a result of her magic? He didn't know.
Meanwhile, Morgwyn had grabbed the next sword and called out its name, Solas, before placing it on one of the points as well, and then it was followed by Orias, Elidor, and Flauros. The last and sixth sword she kept in her hand, but this one was not Albion - to Robin's relief - but Beleth. And he could not discover another sword in this room. Was it possible that she had only six of the seven swords in her possession? But if she didn't have all of them, what was she going to use them for? As far as he knew, she absolutely needed all of them to summon the Lord of the World. So, what was this supposed to be?
While Morgwyn was placing the swords, both the three women who served Belleme and John had stepped into the gaps between the points of the star. Now there was only one empty spot, but who would stand there? The baron or the abbess?
Morgwyn made her way to the unoccupied spot, sword in hand, but then she stepped over the line and positioned herself inside the pentagram, right next to Marion, and the baron then took the vacant spot. Robin came closer again, but this time he refrained from hovering above the group, for that would have put him right above the pentagram, and he shrank from that. He couldn't say why, but it seemed wrong to him. And dangerous.
Finally, the baron again began to intonate words that Robin could not understand, and immediately the outlaw felt a tension building up in the room, as if a thunderstorm was brewing. Odd, he mused, for they were deep inside the castle. Then the abbess also fell in, though she did not intonate the same words as de Belleme. For a moment Robin had the impression that the two mages were fighting each other with their spells, but then the baron fell silent. At least for a while, but then he started again and for a moment Morgwyn and de Belleme intoned their different spells simultaneously again, until this time the abbess fell silent.
It went on like this for quite a while, and during this time an ever-increasing tension built up in the room. Robin was now completely focused on Marion, who lay seemingly unaffected in the pentagram, her eyes still closed. She seemed oblivious to what was going on around her, but Robin was oblivious as well, for he was suddenly caught completely off guard by John falling to his knees.
Robin's gaze shot over to him and he realized that his friend was drenched in sweat, as if he was about to accomplish something extremely strenuous. His face looked pale and was distorted with pain, his eyes were wide open, his breathing erratic and he kept panting loudly. He was giving a very bad impression to the former outlaw.
Suddenly, everything happened very fast. Morgwyn of Ravenscar shouted something in a loud voice in a language that Robin took to be Latin, and at the same time she thrust the tip of the sword she was holding in her hands right into Marion's heart. At the same moment, however, Robin heard the baron also exclaim something in the same language. The lines of the pentagram suddenly lit up as if they had been ignited, while John gasped and the abbess cried out quite loudly.
The outlaw was frightened so badly that he moved away from the pentagram. He suddenly found himself at the other end of the room, the massive table between him and the other people. But from this position he could not make out what had occurred, so he had no choice but to approach the five-pointed star again. But then he immediately froze in his movement again when he realized what had happened. He already knew that Marion was dead, for he had seen Morgwyn stab her, but the abbess had collapsed over her victim and was not moving either. And then Robin's eyes fell on John and he realized that here, on this day, he had lost two of his friends, for the giant was clearly no longer alive. And one of Belleme's women had not survived this incantation either, for she lay with twisted limbs beside the star.
"I had hoped that my medium would survive", the baron suddenly let himself be heard. But then he added, "I gladly paid that price to get rid of that witch."
Robin couldn't believe what he was just hearing. The whole incantation had obviously been for the sole purpose of getting rid of Morgwyn of Ravenscar. Had she become a threat to the baron? But why had he brought her to Belleme Castle in the first place? Or had he planned to get rid of her all along? Had she come to him not perceiving the danger? Perhaps she was too full of herself to see the baron as a threat.
As he now thought about Morgwyn of Ravenscar, he remembered that he had always believed she had not survived the unsuccessful summoning of Satan. Why then had he seen her die here and now?
No sooner had Robin remembered this incident then he disappeared from the baron's castle and found himself in another underground chamber, sparsely lit by a few torches. And apart from him, there seemed to be no one here. Why had his vision led him here? He looked around, but he could not make out where he was, although at the same time he could not shake off the suspicion that he had been here before after all. But it was quite dark and he wasn't able to make out much of the room, so he wasn't sure. He could only see that the vault was made of stone and gave him the impression of being deep underground. But at this point, his new abilities were no help to him either.
He didn't want to give up that quickly, though, even if it looked like he was getting nowhere. But the last few times his visions had always led him to where he could obtain more information and for this reason he wanted to hold out here for a while. Apart from the fact that he could well use a moment of rest, a chance to take a breath, for after all he had just witnessed the death of two of his friends. In that respect, it was no consolation to him that they had actually been dead for some time and he had only been able to be there due to the fact that his ability to have visions had greatly improved. Otherwise, he might never have found out what had happened to them.
Even though he had feared earlier that he might not be able to find his friends simply because they were dead, he had still hoped to be wrong. But in the meantime, he had seen the deaths of three of the persons he had tried to find. Among them were his successor Robert, Marion and John. And now he had to admit to himself that he had to assume that Will and Much were already dead, as well, for he had not been able to find them either. Tuck he had found alive, but in a place where he would never have suspected him to be. And before he had come to look for Nasir, the latter had appeared in his vision, but also in a position in which he had never wanted to see him again. Therefore, it was not really a comfort to him that they were still alive, for he also did not understand what had happened to them.
Suddenly he heard a door to this underground chamber opening and then he caught sight of Morgwyn of Ravenscar in her habit of an abbess entering the room. She was accompanied by a well-dressed man who looked familiar to Robin, but whose name he could not recall at that moment. The man followed the abbess at a distance of a few paces, somewhat hesitantly, and he did not seem pleased to find himself here.
"You'll just have to try harder, Verdelet!" the abbess exclaimed. "We are so close to bringing the Lord of the World to us. All we lack is one sword."
"We have tried everything, Mistress, but we have found no trace of Albion!" the man replied, trying to keep his distance from Morgwyn of Ravenscar.
"Then you must keep searching!" The abbess sounded very upset. "You must send the men out again! You must ride farther than before!"
"We have traced the sword to Sherwood, Mistress", the man named Verdelet elaborated. "It never belonged to a knight or a noble, like the other six swords, but is said to have been in the possession of a pagan forest god. Or rather, in the possession of his avatar. But there is no trace of him for half a century. Supposedly, he used to give the sword to men who then called themselves his son, but there have been none of them for many decades. Albion has apparently disappeared into the depths of this ancient forest. There is no record of it being seen anywhere else after that."
Morgwyn whirled around to face him. "Keep the men searching, Verdelet! If we can't get our hands on Albion, then we can't summon the Lord of the World. At least not without the help of another mage. If I have to resort to the help of someone like Simon de Belleme, it makes me very angry. And you know, Verdelet, what happens when I get angry."
The other man couldn't help flinching in shock. Then he turned away and quickly left the room. The abbess stayed behind, but she couldn't hide from Robin how furious she was.
And then, all of a sudden, she was gone and Robin found himself once again in the presence of the Baron de Belleme. His vision had taken him to another place yet again, without his conscious choice to do so. After all, he had not even had time to think about what he had just witnessed.
This time the baron was standing in the hall of a castle, and judging from the tapestries hanging on the walls, Robin assumed it must be his own. Thus, he had determined the place to which his vision had led him, but the time was unknown to him.
While he was still racking his brains, he heard footsteps and suddenly Nasir appeared in the entrance. Robin was aware, however, that the Saracen could move quite silently, so he assumed that he was not alone. The person Robin could hear obviously didn't believe he needed to hide his presence, so he was here with the baron's approval. And then someone appeared behind Nasir, whom the outlaw had not necessarily expected to see here, on the other hand he was not completely surprised by his arrival either, because he had already suspected that there was a connection between him and the baron. There Sir Guy of Gisburne was approaching, as Robin remembered him, in his armor and blue cloak.
He strutted into the hall with his usual arrogant expression, passed Nasir without paying any further attention to him, and then stopped a few paces in front of the baron, who was dressed all in black as usual, though not wearing the cap Robin had always seen him with before. His dark, straight hair fell down to his shoulders and, as always, it was impossible to tell from his face what was going through his mind. He waited motionless while the knight bowed to him.
"My Lord Baron", Gisburne greeted de Belleme.
"Sir Guy", the baron bowed his head almost imperceptibly. "I need you to perform a task for me."
"Of course, Master", the knight replied, without any hesitation.
"It will, however, take a few days during which you will not be in Nottingham", the baron went on.
"I know what I must tell the sheriff so that he will not suspect anything. He assumes, anyway, that I am incapable of successfully deceiving him", Gisburne elaborated, without giving the impression of being annoyed by the Sheriff's opinion.
"You have worked very successfully on this image of yourself, Sir Guy", the baron praised him, to Robin's great amazement. "That makes you all the more valuable to me."
"Thank you, Master." Gisburne's answer also surprised the outlaw, for it made him suspect that the knight had been working for de Belleme for some time. This was now another question Robin wanted to find an answer to. He was convinced by now that he would also have to learn the fate of this man, whose end he had already witnessed. Apparently not only the lives of his friends were linked to his, but also those of his enemies, especially that of this man. Even though Robin had only just become aware of this, he now realized that deep in his heart he had known this before.
"You must ride for me to Ravenscar Abbey, and from there you must bring Abbess Morgwyn to me. Also, the six swords she has in her possession. Six of the seven swords of Wayland. You will have no trouble with the abbess, she knows that she can succeed only with me, having failed to gain possession of the seventh of these swords."
"As you command, Master", Gisburne merely confirmed. He did not seem troubled.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Robin had not gone straight back to his favorite spot in the little grove, but had first visited Sherwood again. Although he couldn't shake off his fears, he had once again made up his mind to look for Will and Much, but without success. Then, focusing on Tuck, he located him in the chapel of Nottingham Castle, but the monk looked so miserable that Robin could no longer bear to watch him. Nasir was with the Baron de Belleme, and the Saracen appeared so strange to him that he no longer wanted to see him either.
Instead, he now focused on someone he perhaps should have sought out earlier. But he hadn't entered his mind since he had been concentrating so hard on his friends. Now, however, he could not avoid looking for Herne the Hunter. By now he had reached the conclusion that, for whatever reason, there was no one in Sherwood who was Herne's son, no Robin Hood. Morgwyn's search had given her no clue as to where Albion was, although Herne had entrusted him with that sword back when he named him his son. And after his death, his successor had received the sword. But now that didn't seem to be the case.
But perhaps Herne could provide him with some answers. Of course, Robin couldn't ask him directly, but if he was lucky, just watching him would suffice. In any case, it was worth a try. And he didn't even have to focus on Herne, because he knew where his cave was. That was where he was going to look for him first.
His vision immediately brought him to the spot where the deity of this forest had first asked him to draw the bow and where he had entrusted Albion to him. How many times had he returned to that cave either for the summons of his father or to seek his counsel? Robin had not counted the times as this had never seemed important to him.
As he approached the cave across the lake, he experienced a sense of joy, for there, in front of the tunnel that led into the cliff, stood the familiar figure of the old man of whom Herne at certain times took possession. But his joy lasted only for a very short time, for as soon as he was next to the man, the latter suddenly turned his piercing gaze on him, and Robin realized that it was Herne who was standing there, even if he was not wearing his horned headdress.
And then the dead outlaw got an unpleasant surprise, because Herne addressed him directly: "Be gone, spirit from another world, we don't want your kind here!" At that moment Robin understood that Herne knew very well that someone from his people was here. He also understood that he definitely did not want him here. Herne gestured commandingly and the outlaw felt a mighty wind whirling him away as if he were just a leaf. Immediately he lost his grip on the human world and found himself in the small grove under the Hill.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
His exhaustion had overtaken him before he could return to his hut and he had fallen asleep on the spot instead. In the middle of the night, however, he was again woken by the nightmare that had made him relive Gisburne's execution, and he took the opportunity - and the fact that he could not sleep any longer now anyway - to head for his dwelling. Once there he was able, to his great surprise, to get some sleep, undisturbed by any unpleasant dreams.
But in the morning, he was awakened by a visitor and he was glad that he had been able to pull himself together during the night to return to his hut, for he would not have liked it at all if the other had discovered him in his favorite spot. This was a place where he did not want to face anyone else, as odd as that might seem.
His visitor was already known to him, for he was the one who had come to him to learn what abilities he possessed. He was also the one who had bragged - so to speak - about his knowledge of the different skills of his people, and Robin wanted to take advantage of that now. He really needed more information, which only the other could provide. However, the former outlaw could not reveal the reasons for his questions. He had to be careful. Under no circumstances could he give the impression that he himself had experienced what he was asking about.
The other had obviously wanted to learn personally to what extent Robin had already integrated himself into the life under the Hill, and he was very pleased when he perceived his interest. He was only too willing to vent about what knowledge he had gathered about the capabilities of his people. Again, he told Robin in what manner some - privileged - members of his people could handle visions. By that, of course, he didn't mean seeing a vision on a patch of water or a polished piece of metal - of which there wasn't much under the Hill anyway. He liked to dwell on those who could make visions appear in their mind's eye in any location.
This was not what interested Robin so much, nevertheless, he raised some questions to him in this context and not only to show the other how much he was impressed by the wealth of his knowledge, for there were various aspects he would have liked to know in this field of knowledge as well. When the former outlaw inquired whether it was also possible to visit a place under the Hill in a vision, he receives the answer that one could only ever see into the other world and that there was no one capable of more. Robin considered this very interesting, but not for the reason that the other once had to admit that even his people were subject to limitations, but rather because he deduced from these words that he would have to be in the human world in order to be able to look under the Hill in a vision. His visitor, however, made him understand - by his tone of voice and his manner of expression - that no member of his people would think of going to the human world just to have a vision there. Apparently, not only he considered this to be useless. Robin had to suppress a smile so that the other didn't notice that he had figured him out, but also so that he didn't notice that he took him for an arrogant, prejudiced idiot. He reminded him very much of the Normans who looked down so contemptuously on the English.
Only later did it occur to Robin that the information he had just been given meant that the visions he had had during his time as Robin Hood could have nothing to do with him being a changeling. Now he was sure that they had indeed come from Herne, unless he had switched worlds in each of those moments. This possibility, however, seemed so unlikely to Robin that he did not seriously consider it.
However, this thought occurred to him long after his visitor had left. As long as he was still in Robin's hut, the former outlaw tried to find out as inconspicuously as possible why the events in his last visions were so different from what he had personally experienced during his time in the human world. The attack on Clun Castle had occurred after his death, but the Abbess of Ravenscar's attempt to summon Satan was different. At that time, he had personally seen Morgwyn use Albion and the other swords for her summoning, but in his vision, he had now been shown that she had not been able to find one of the swords. For this reason, she had not performed the ritual. This puzzled him quite a bit, as he had not assumed that anything could change what he himself had experienced in the human world. Or was it his memories that had been altered?
Getting the other to explain anything about this was then a bit more difficult, but fortunately Robin remembered that he had told him about different timelines previously. At that time, he hadn't really understood what the other meant by that, so he took the opportunity to come back to it now. Maybe he would learn in this manner what he really needed to know.
His visitor told him that in the past - at a time that seemed a distant past even to the long-lived members of his people - it had happened that a person's memory was no longer identical with the past as it could be seen in visions. And then the other went on stating that the cause of this was always someone who could alter past events and only the person who was responsible for this alteration could then still remember the original incidents. Robin just managed to hide his horror when he understood that he himself was obviously to blame for these changes, but this only encouraged him in his efforts to ask further - careful - questions. For now, he desperately needed to figure out how this could have happened, but also how to undo it.
He did indeed receive further answers, but they did not give him much hope, for he learned that a person who had the ability to change the past could do so without being aware of it. Sometimes just a wish would have been enough to trigger a change. Fortunately, most of his people were not particularly interested in the human world and that had kept the number of alterations very small. Robin was not sure if he should believe this statement.
But it didn't matter now, for he had to cope with the horrible notion that he had caused all the trouble and, what's more, had done so without consciously intending it. And then there was in addition the fact that he had also learned what was necessary to bring everything back into balance. If he wanted the past to become again what he recalled, then he had to undo what he had altered, for that incident had triggered all the others. But if he didn't figure out what he had done, then the past would remain forever as it was now. And that meant he would not be able to reverse the deaths of his friends, and much of what he had experienced with them would exist only in his memory. This was a thought he could not bear, but for the time being he had no choice but to push these considerations aside, since he could not show his visitor how much he was affected by what he had been told.
To the other, this was just an interesting tale from his people's past, for there had not been anyone with this ability for a very long time, and so it was generally assumed that it was lost. It would certainly make him suspicious should Robin personally react to his words, and suspicion was definitely not something the former outlaw wanted to cause.
Therefore, he thanked him effusively for having told him so much that was new - and at the same time flattered him for being so knowledgeable - but then he asked him to leave, for now he had to reflect on what his people were capable of. He could do this best alone, however, and it would certainly help him to do so if he once again roamed through the area under the Hill. But in parting, he confided to him that he would simply love to stroll through the beautiful countryside, for that would also have enabled him to realize how fortunate he was to be living here now.
For a moment he was afraid that he had overdone it, but then he was once again allowed to see how much the members of his people were taken in by themselves. It never even occurred to his visitor that someone might lie to him about how he regarded the people. And Robin had not yet met any of them who had a different attitude. Still, he had to be careful, for he could not make the mistake of assuming no one would pay him any attention. If he wanted to save his friends, however, he could not allow himself to be so careless.