Prologue

Robin tossed and turned restlessly as he tried to fall asleep, but found it difficult, even though he was completely exhausted. Perhaps it was due to the fact that he was away from the safety of Sherwood? Yet he could not bring himself to simply leave his father's body here after he had seen to it that it was laid out according to his rank. He was aware that he was taking a risk, but it could not be helped. He had had to do what he believed was right, he had had to say goodbye to his father in an appropriate manner, even if he could not honor his last wish.

He would perhaps feel more comfortable if he were alone in jeopardy. Though he had managed to send some of his friends back to Sherwood - even if they had only left because of Will's injury - Marion, Tuck, and Nasir had stayed with him. That burdened him and made it harder for him to finally settle into the sleep he desperately needed. Again, he tossed and turned, trying to find a position where he could relax at least sufficiently to fall asleep.

Sleep came over him quite abruptly and then the dream was upon him. Robin looked down at the site where he and his friends had battled the Knights of the Apocalypse, yet now there was hardly anything stirring save vast numbers of black birds circling in the air. He had the impression that he was one of those birds, flying over the preceptory. He too circled and slowly began to get closer to the ground. As his flight carried him over the swamp outside St. John's, he detected movement below him after all.

After another circuit, he spied a figure moving away from the site on a horse. Robin was curious as to who it might be, but he was still too far away to make out anything at all. He was not yet able to tell who it was. He hoped to be able to make out more of the stranger after the next loop, but then he was disappointed to discover that the other had already vanished at the end of the causeway before he himself could get close enough. Was the rider a survivor of the battle? Were there any survivors of the fight at all? The idea that there might be only the dead down there in the preceptory suddenly imbued Robin with profound sorrow and a sense that he had arrived too late.

Another circuit brought him once again across the courtyard of the compound and he looked down at the many corpses that were lying there. Most of them were members of the Knights' Order, struck down by the outlaws and the monks who had supported them, but unfortunately, he noticed at that moment that there were also some dead monks lying there. Again, he was overcome with sorrow, though in this case he was aware that there was nothing he could do for these people. But he also knew that they had given their lives for a good cause, for a righteous cause. A matter for which he would have died as well. A matter in which he had lost something very important to him. And although he was aware that it would take time to come to terms with this loss, he was glad not to have lost anything more. But was that really the truth?

Countless crows had begun to gather above the corpses, but oddly enough, they had not yet swooped down on them. Robin had never seen anything like this before, and he couldn't explain why they were behaving this way. Could it perhaps be related to the evil that had reigned here, to the demon that had possessed these knights. The demon that Herne's son had vanquished so that the darkness could not devour the land. After sending him back to hell, Robin had rushed back outside, where he had discovered his dying father. Of the members of the Order, he had seen none still alive after that. Had they died with the demon? Herne's son did not know. He hadn't really paid attention, and that made him immensely grieved once again.

Suddenly, he spotted movement on the ground. Was there perhaps someone still alive down there? The next round brought Robin closer and he realized that a man was lying there. Blood had pooled under his body, but there was no mistaking that he was still breathing. He was not dead and if someone could reach him in time, perhaps he could still be saved. The outlaw wondered who this man was. He certainly didn't belong to the monks, they hadn't left any of their own with even a bit of life left in them. But neither did he bear the colors of the order. As Robin pondered the stranger, he watched the other desperately trying to stop the bleeding.

And then the man lifted his head and seemed to look directly at Robin, and he was thrown out of the dream by the shock of recognition.

For him completely unexpected, he was awake again.

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When Robin looked up, he realized that he could no longer see the cave sides. They had disappeared as if they had never existed, and the trees of the forest had been revealed beyond them, their trunks shimmering in the golden sunlight.

All of a sudden, clouds gathered over the woods, and the light could no longer pass through them. Wind came up and shook the branches and twigs, swept leaves across the ground, and stirred up the water of the lake. Darkness fell over Sherwood, but not the darkness of night, nor that of an approaching storm. Herne's son was overcome by a sense of approaching peril that he could not shrug off. The darkness pressed down on him, prevented him from breathing, enveloping him like a heavy blanket from which he could not extricate himself. He became cold and felt weak and helpless.

He suddenly realized that he was getting away from Herne's cave, although he was sure he was not moving. The oppressive sensation had not left him; it intensified the longer he moved through the dark, storm-tossed forest. Robin was unable to make out anything but trees. Trees, under which he could find no shelter. Trees, which instilled fear in him. And that fear was heightened by the darkness that continued to grow and the danger that was hidden within it. Herne's son did not know what to do. He was confused and disoriented, alone and without friends.

A weight at Robin's side snapped him out of his indecision. As he placed his hand on the object hanging from his belt, his fingers closed around the handle of Albion and this had an unexpected effect on him. The fear he had just experienced was lifted, as was the darkness that lay over the forest. Suddenly, Herne's son could make out something once again. A lance of golden sunlight poked through a gap in the black, seething clouds, illuminating a clearing in the middle of the woods. As Robin drew closer, he could make out a man lying motionless on the forest floor. The scene filled him with a gloomy foreboding - despite the light. Was this one of his friends, perhaps? Was he still alive or was he dealing with a dead man?

The outlaw stepped out into the clearing and was then able to tell that he did not know the man. Nor did he think he had ever seen him before, for that he would certainly remember. The other man was not one to be forgotten again. He looked tall and had certainly once been strong and muscular, but now he appeared gaunt and half-starved. Under the rags he wore and the dirt that coated him, there were numerous fresh wounds, as well as older ones. His hair was quite long and braided into numerous tresses, giving him the appearance of a savage. The long, unkempt beard - also braided - reinforced this impression. Robin could well imagine him - armed with an axe or a broadsword - charging at his opponents, roaring out loud, without showing any fear. Until someone finally defeated him and captured him to treat him cruelly afterwards. Was this somebody Robin had to save?

Quite suddenly the clouds closed again and darkness overtook the clearing once more. It grew so dark that Robin immediately lost sight of the man. As he looked around to determine if there was anywhere he could seek shelter, a flash of lightning suddenly struck. In its glare he caught sight of a crown resting on the skull of a dead man. Again, everything vanished into darkness until the next flash of lightning illuminated Robin's surroundings, and immediately thunder shook the forest. The dead man crumpled and the crown came crashing down. It rolled away until it lay at the feet of a boy, who picked it up and placed it on his head. Robin thought it odd that it wasn't too large for him. The boy looked up and stared at the outlaw. Then all of a sudden, a smile appeared on his face. He stretched out his arm and held out his closed hand to him. When he opened his fingers, Robin recognized on his palm his father's ring, with the Huntingdon crest.

A great joy welled up within Robin. This was so unforeseen that he recoiled, and all at once he found himself back in Herne's cave.