Wanting to know what Little John had hinted about trouble in Locksley, Robin accompanied Will back to his house after supper. Djaq walked ahead with the twins, and Allan, having left his horse outside the Scarlett's home, walked alongside the two men.

"John said you know something about Isabella?" Robin asked the young carpenter.

"Isabella?" Allan laughed loudly. "There's someone I haven't thought about in years."

"I saw her," Will explained.

"Where?" Robin was serious, but Allan couldn't stop grinning.

"I was gathering wood in the forest," Will explained, "to make a chest." Will, usually reserved and quiet, became excited thinking about his latest project. "There's a fallen oak, Robin, not rotten, but strong! Under the bark, the wood is-"

Allan interrupted him. "You're gettin' excited like you're picturin' Djaq in her skivvies, not a dead tree. And speakin' of sexy women, what about Izzy?"

"You saw her in the forest?" Robin asked.

Will, annoyed by Allan but used to him, returned his thoughts to the matter at hand. His voice lost its animation and grew flat. "She was with a group of nuns, dressed like them in a gray habit. I wouldn't have noticed her, but she was staring at me, and I saw her smirk."

"Izzy, a nun? Good one!" Allan laughed.

"I'm not joking, Allan."

Robin looked worried. "It goes with what she told me, before I left for London."

"You talked with her?" Allan was amazed. "Not bein' funny, but I wouldn't want to be you when Marian finds out!"

"Marian knows. Allan, did you never come across Isabella, on one of your visits to Kirklees?"

"I don't go there any more. I'm a businessman now! I got a reputation to uphold."

They reached the Scarlett home, a beautiful structure Will had built on the edge of Locksley, a combination of English and Saracen architecture. Djaq and the children had already gone inside. Allan untied the reins of his horse and lifted himself onto his saddle. "Gotta get back to the Trip. Give Marian a kiss for me, and one for Djaq, too. Goodnight, Gents." He laughed again before galloping away. "Izzy, a nun!" he was heard to say.

"At least you didn't see her in Locksley," Robin said, before telling Will goodnight.

Robin watched Will disappear into his home, then turned to return to his own house. But he was stopped when a familiar female figure stepped out of the shadows.

"How time has changed things!" Isabella's voice said lowly. "Not so very long ago, it was you who appeared from the shadows to startle me!"

"What are you doing here, Isabella?" Robin snarled.

"Temper! Where are Robin Hood's famous chivalrous manners? I see your reinstatement as Lord of Locksley hasn't improved them. But I don't mind. It was never your manners I was interested in, after all. Come closer, Robin, if only to prove you aren't afraid of the dark."

Robin, recognizing a challenge, strode directly to her. She was not dressed as a nun, but in a velvet burgundy colored gown that clung to her and left little to the imagination. Her hair flowed loosely past her shoulders, and her eyes glittered like jewels. Her skin was luminous in the moonlight. "What is it you want, Isabella?" Robin asked, his voice a threat.

She smiled seductively. "What I've never stopped wanting, Robin, from the moment we locked eyes, when you saved me from my husband's men... You."

Robin uttered an unpleasant laugh.

"Don't be so quick to dismiss me," Isabella said. "I'll do anything you want, and even some things you don't know you want."

"What I want is for you never to set foot in my village again."

"Shall we go to the meadow then? I recall, it was hotter in the meadow than it was here, even with the fire burning down your church. I see you've had it rebuilt."

"Leave my village. Now!"

"Shh! Don't shout! You'll wake the mixed breeds, sleeping inside their oddly built house. I assume you had their father design and rebuild your church. I'm surprised he didn't make it a mosque! Perhaps I'll attend mass there soon, with my holy sisters."

"You disgust me, Isabella."

"Yet you burn for me."

"Hardly."

"Yes, so hardly." She reached out and seized a very private part of his body. "I see I was right."

Robin shook her off, turned, and began to walk angrily away.

Isabella, not wanting the interview to end, called after him. "Too bad you're not going with the king to France. You might come across my brother there."

Robin froze, then turned back to face her. "Your brother, I do not regret telling you, is dead."

Isabella laughed breezily. "I wish he was, but alas, he's still alive."

"My wife shot him through the heart."

"Through the heart figuratively, but not literally. Guy always loved her, even when seeking revenge for her betrayals. He loves her still."

"Marian shot him dead."

"She shot him, I agree, but not dead. Guy wore a thick wooden plate under his clothes. You know what I mean. You used such a plate before, tricking Sheriff Vasey. And the sheriff and his Black Knights used them to trick you. I've heard the stories. So, Guy survived your precious little wife's shot, just as she survived...how many mortal wounds did he give her? Two, I believe, at last count."

"Gisbourne's in France?"

"For now. Does that change your plan to stay home, rather than fight for your king?"

Robin did not answer. Thinking about what he had just learned, he turned and walked back toward his manor, numb with anger.

Isabella called after him, "I know where to find you, if I need any dragons slain."

Arriving home, Robin met his manservant Thomas. "Everyone's in bed, Master," Thomas told him. "It's my turn tonight, to stay up and watch."

"Thank you, Thomas," Robin said vaguely, before climbing the stairs to his room.

Marian, tired from her pregnancy and the long trip they had made, was already in bed. A single candle burned in their bedchamber. Still deep in thought, Robin undressed and climbed in bed beside her. Marian, sighing contently, snuggled against him, her back to his chest.

"That was fun tonight," she said, "with your gang here. I hope I wasn't rude to Eve."

Robin wrapped his arms around her, but did not otherwise respond.

Marian, assuming he was simply tired, continued expressing her happy thoughts. "Grace's hair is coming in, don't you think? She's getting little curls in the back above her neck, just like yours."

Reaching an arm behind their heads, Marian let her fingers gently play in Robin's hair. Noticing how tense and silent he was, she pulled her arm away, rolled over to face him, and asked, "What is it, Robin?"

"It's Gisbourne," he admitted. "You didn't kill him, Marian. He's alive."