6

As a musician, you tend to miss out on some of the adventures that happen. Still, someone needs to stay behind and watch the young 'uns…and to tell them tales of great and glorious victories, if and when they occur.

Sketchy the Weasel walked through the phalanx of Rhino guards that was a permanent fixture of Prince John's dimly-lit waiting room. He approached the enormous oaken doors and knocked firmly.

"What's the password?" came the Prince's voice.

"Prince John the Invincible is Ruler of England for life, long may he reign, his brother Richard is stupid and poops in a diaper," said Sketchy in a single breath.

The Prince's wary eyes appeared in a peephole, eyeing the newcomer. "Sir Sketchy? Is that you?"

"It is, my liege," said Sketchy, bowing low. "I come bearing good news."

"Prrrroceed!" said the Prince grandly. There was the scraping of many heavy locks being moved, and the heavy doors slowly swung open. Sketchy stepped inside. The throne room, which in years past had been littered with coin, was now austere and Spartan. Hollow suits of armor and paintings and tapestries depicting the Prince in battle were the only decoration.

Prince John had repositioned himself on his throne. He was wearing a huge steel breastplate that dwarfed his narrow frame, and his leonine face was partly obscured by a gaudy helmet.

Sketchy bowed again. "Your Invincible Highness, the trap was a success. One of the Merry Men was apprehended."

The Prince scowled. "One of the Merry Men captured? I was expecting all of them!"

"Their flying chariot gave them another escape route besides the one we cut off," explained Sketchy. "But our guards disabled it. It won't be flying again."

"Very good," purred the Prince. "I had dreams of flying once, you know. Back when I was young, I used throw rocks at pigeons, jealous of the effortlessness it took them to ascend to the skies. But of course, Mother said that I mustn't…" The prince tried to suck his thumb, but the mouth-guard of his helmet blocked the thumb's path.

"Um…as you say, your majesty," replied Sketchy. "I should tell you that a very few number of prisoners escaped. Nobody of note. A mere child, an old fool, and that worthless coward Sir Hiss."

"WHAT!?" exclaimed the Prince, jumping to his feet. He grabbed a mace from a nearby weapon chest and began swinging it around furiously. "You idiot, you nitwit, you blundering nincompoop! Do you have any idea how dangerous Hiss is to us? How much he knows?" He rushed at Sketchy, slamming the mace down as the weasel hopped out of the way.

"Your grace!" protested Sketchy. "Your grace, all is not lost – YIKES!" he squealed as he dodged and ducked the Prince's attacks. "If what you say is true, perhaps now is the perfect time to seize their base. I can show you exactly where it is. If we move now…"

"Yes," said the Prince, his rage subsiding. "Yes, what a perfectly prescient and punctilious plan. Send every troop we have: every archer, every foot soldier, every knight. Tell them to spare no one." He set down the mace and limped back to the throne. "Do you know, Sketchy, I believe I pulled a muscle in my back just now."

Sketchy had little sympathy for the Prince's back pain, but one did not say such things to royalty. "My apologies, your majesty. Oh, one final note. The strange travelers who brought the chariot…one of them has joined our ranks. He was looking to earn some gold, so I gave him a job guarding the prison. It seemed to me that we needed some extra muscle, given Trigger and Nutsy's incompetence."

"Splendid," said the Prince. "At some point I would like to meet one of these specimens. Perhaps, when the demise of my enemies is complete. And how gloriously soon that will be, Sketchy! How soon will I have the hides of Robin Hood and Little John decorating my throne room!" The Prince let out a cruel chuckle.

"AH ha. AH ha."

Doc Brown drove his DeLorean up to a grove of trees, and the somber passengers filed out.

"This is as close as I can drive to the hideout," Doc said. "I'm going to try and fit the hoverdrive so that we can fly again. Of course, since you're unlikely to have supplies of carbon boronium nearby, it's probably futile, but…"

He trailed off and looked regretfully at the directly from which they had come. Silently, Midge, Arthur, Will, and the three rescued prisoners left Doc behind and slipped into the forest. They headed towards the base, the crunching of leaves and the whistling of wind the only sound. Suddenly, Arthur froze.

"Someone's approaching," he whispered. He whistled the first phrase of a melody so cheerful that it could incite a hamster to dance…and then breathed a sigh of relief when the tune was echoed back. In a minute, Robin Hood and Little John stepped into view. Both of their faces fell when they saw the small group.

"Is this it?" exclaimed Little John. "Where's Friar Tuck, Lady Kluck? Where's Marty? Where's…"

"Where's Marian?" asked Robin Hood, devastated.

"We've got some questions for you, too," said Will Scarlet gruffly. "You told us that you'd keep those guards distracted for at least an hour, but 'twasn't five minutes before they were breathing down our necks."

Robin Hood shook his head. "I was making a huge ruckus outside, but soon they just stopped chasing me. They must have known you were there."

There was a sad silence, then Midge said brightly, "Well, it wasn't a complete failure. Little John, Robin Hood, this" (here she gestured to the kitten) "is Timmy, and this" (here she gestured to the aardvark) "is Mortimer. And this fellow here…"

"I know you, buster," said Little John. "Your name is Hiss and you used to be at our throats like a dog with a bone."

Sir Hiss gulped visibly and looked around at his unfriendly rescuers. "I've turned over a new leaf, as you'll ssssssssee."

"Talk is cheap, long one," said Little John menacingly.

"No, really!" protested Sir Hiss. "I can tell you a sssssssecret entrance into the cassssstle. From there, you can steal all the treasure you could ever dream of."

Arthur laughed. "Alright! Looked like I picked the right cell to spring."

Robin Hood admonished him with a look. "Is gold all that is important to you? For shame! We cannot think of treasure until those we love are freed from prison."

"We haven't forgotten them," said Midge. "But listen, Robin. Right now the prison is swarming with guards. They'll have figured out our tunnel by now, and they're going to be alert. If we listen to Sir Hiss, we can steal the Prince's treasure and use it to ransom the prisoners."

"She's right, Rob," Little John agreed. "The prison's going to be too hot for a spell. Let's go back to the hideout, make a plan…"

"MAKE A PLAN?" Robin Hood said furiously. "For weeks now we've been making plans, substituting trickery for bravery, cowardice for courage. And for what? So my lady love could wait in a cell while I try to scrounge for gold? I should have led the charge into the prison myself. I will not make that mistake again." Eyes blazing, Robin Hood walked briskly away from the group and disappeared into the dark forest.

"Robin!" yelled Little John. "ROB!" He turned to the others. "I'll talk to him. I'll meet you guys back at the hideout as soon as I cool Rob down." With a wave of goodbye, Little John waddled after his friend.

Arthur raised an eyebrow sardonically and patted the old aardvark on the back. "As you can see, the leadership in our rebellion is second to none."