BBC Robin Hood God Save the Queen

Chapter 5: The French men

--Saint Malo --

Djaq ran from the cargo hold, passed the level of oarsmen, and into the main deck of the Fleur. The sea air hit her immediately worsening her nausea. Around her, the Fleur's crew that was cleaning the deck and making sure the sails were in order didn't pay her any attention. The Saracen went to one side and leaned on the wooden rail to stare at the rhythmic pattern of the oars hoping it would help settle her stomach. This was the fourth day they were in sea and everyday she has been trying to tell herself that they were lucky. They had caught Captain Jean Baptiste just as they were loading their last cargo in Falsmouth. Surprisingly, the captain was only just about Robin's age but spoke with the maturity they seldom heard from their leader. The young captain was extremely hesitant in taking them in firstly because he wasn't headed for the walled town and secondly because Carter was not revealing why the Englishmen wanted to go to St. Malo in the first place. But the crusader would not take no for an answer. Eventually, Captain Jean agreed for no other reason than Carter was a friend of a good friend. But he laid the conditions that they were to help out and they would have to stay in the cargo hold because they were running on a full crew. Robin had accepted these terms saying that they were lucky.

But for the Saracen, anything that required her to be in a ship reminded her of the slave trade she had the unlucky experience of seeing first hand. The feeling of being in a cramped cargo hold and being forced to work on a ship didn't help even if she knew that she wasn't shackled or placed at knife point. Together with the feeling of being disoriented by the waves and currents, Djaq had felt ill the minute they raised the anchor and raised the sail. She has even had nightmares. She wanted desperately to be back on solid land. The only consolation she had was the bright blue sky of day and the heat of the sun on her skin. She felt someone rub her back comfortingly and turned slightly surprised that she didn't see him coming. She gave the man a small thankful smile. There, standing beside her staring out to sea, was Will.

"You alright, love?" He asked with a countenance of full concern.

She nodded letting him take her hand in his. "Don't worry. It will go away." She replied. She could feel her mood improving slowly with the afternoon sunshine on her and knowing that Will was right there. He had seen this happen to her twice before after all. The trip to the Holy Lands to stop the sheriff was, admittedly, not that bad. The trip back to England was worse than how she felt now and Will was the only one there that she could lean on. Maybe she was lucky after all.

Then she turned to Will. "I thought you were rowing with Little John, Robin, Carter and Allan." She suddenly remembered their duties for the day. They were to work for their meals and board no matter how uncomfortable their board was.

"We were relieved for some reason. Captain wanted to talk to Carter and Robin." He sighed scratching his head with his free hand. "We should really learn French." He mused out loud. Djaq could relate. The gang had gotten along well with the crew. However, sometimes, their new friends would forget that they could no understand French especially when they have had something to drink. Jokes that had to be translated didn't seem as funny. And they found themselves sticking to Robin, Carter and even Much to make sure they perfectly understood what the captain was needed of them.

Djaq started laughing at their dire predicament now understanding how Will must have felt in the Holy Lands when he was going around alone. "We might as well learn every language in the world seeing as we keep leaving England." She jested. She saw Will look down at her and smiled.

"Not being funny, but I happen to plan to live in England forever. I don't reckon I'd be able to do all those accents with a straight face." The couple turned to see Allan approach them carrying their weapons. "I mean, you have to admit, sometimes they sound like they're spitting or something like that." He gave Will his axe and handed Djaq her sword grinning widely. "I just saw Robin. He said to get ready because that-" He paused pointing at a hazy horizon with a gray spot in horizon. "-that is our stop. Which is brilliant. I can't row anymore." He complained as he joined them on the side of the ship.

The girl fastened her sword belt heartily as the horizon started clearing to reveal blurry beaches and fields. The three friends exchanged sighs of relief as more ships start to dot the blue sea. Then, the gray spot started to clear as it became bigger. "It's an island." She gasped in surprise ignoring as the crew started shouting brief conversations with the boats they had passed by.

"With really high walls." Will noted uncomfortably staring at the walls and rooftops that he felt just came out of the sea.

"That's fortified." Allan added when he saw several intimidating towers rise from within the walls and armed men walking around the ramparts. He gave the two a worried glance. "Not being funny, but is Robin sure about this? I mean, isn't this still part of France?" He pointed out still staring at the men on the battlements. Allan stiffened when he felt an arm on his shoulder.

"Do not make the mistake of saying that here, Monsieur." Allan turned his head and gulped as he came face to face with the stern blonde, blue eyed captain of the ship. "We Malouins happen to be very independent. Your Prince Geoffrey, the late Duke of Brittany, may have been a favorite in the Parisian Courts." He let the man go to fix the hair tie that held his unruly hair back from the whipping wind. "But he was not well liked here. Neither is his wife and neither is his son." He informed the three. The rest of the gang followed behind the Captain joining the three that were already on the main deck awestruck at the sight of the walled city. "That being said," he turned sharply to Robin and Carter, "you must be either very brave or desperate to want to enter France from Malo. In fact, in times like this where the ports are watched and you, I think, are trying to sneak in, I hope whatever it is you are doing is worth risking your lives for." He gave his hand out to the outlaws.

Robin shook his hand with a grin on his face. "Believe me, it's worth it." He answered confidently.

"Monsieur Carter," Jean Baptiste took his hand and chuckled. " I think you owe the mademoiselle your passage. When you see her next, please give her my warmest regards."

"Capitaine Jean Baptiste, I've told you--" Carter started to say but the captain started shaking his head giving him a pat on the shoulder with his other hand instead.

"Yes you have," the captain cut him off before he could continue, "yet the winds somehow tell me otherwise." And as if on cue, the strong breeze started sailing the ship faster to the port. Captain Jean Baptiste smirked looking at each member of the gang straight in the eye before giving them a small bow. "My first mate will accompany you to the port. Then you are on your own. As this is your first time here and without an escort, you should truly keep to yourself." He chuckled again before shaking his head thinking of the absurd situation the Englishmen were in. "Monsieur Blanche!" He called out.

A second later, his second in command exited the crew's quarters. "Oui, Capitaine?" The sailor quickly swung his sword belt over his head before walking towards them.

"See that they get to port safely." He ordered before leaving the gang in the company of Blanche with a small nod. "Bon voyage et bonne chance pour ton voyage."

"Merci, Capitaine Jean Baptiste." Robin bowed in gratitude before breathing in deeply gazing at the fortified island. Their journey through France has just begun.
--

--Toulouse --

Remy trailed his friend uncomfortably as they went around town checking all stalls and shops that sold rings. They have been going around town for hours without stopping since they had finished lunch. He was bored which made him feel tired even if he knew he was not. He watched his friend hold up a gold ring with a large oval green stone in the middle for inspection. Monsieur Moreau groaned knowing what would come next.

"Remy, Remy," He called out excitedly, "look how this sparkles! Do you think Camille would like it?" He asked not even bothering to look if his friend was there or not.

The chocolate coloured haired man sighed in defeat. "My dear friend, she would like whatever you give her." He hoped that the other man got his subtle hint that he wanted to go.

"You are right, Remy. You are right." Raoul shook his head returning the ring to the stall owner. Remy nodded happily thinking of the tavern they would be retiring in. "It is too big. it would get in the way of her beautiful hands wielding a weapon or stitching wounds." He faced his suddenly heart broken friend grinning as he started to move towards the next stall. "Plus, it would really hurt if she hit me with that. But then, she would have to patch me up if I'm hurt and I do like it when she patches me up." He tapped his chin playfully. "What do you think Remy?" He asked stopping at another stall.

"I think we should head to Marseilles." Remy answered promptly.

The fair headed man gave his friend a confused glance. "We met with my lovely friend's messenger this morning and our Monsieur le Corsaire for lunch. Have you forgotten already?" He shrugged offhandedly. "It is set. We sail in a few days. We have lots of time to enjoy ourselves hopefully not for the last time. I do not see why I can not buy Camille a new ring and have it sent to her through a messenger." He said looking at the stall's offerings. His eyes brightened when he held up a deep blue dress with silver threads intricately embroidered on the hems of the sleeves and full bodice on one hand and a matching silver embroidered corset on the other. "Would this not look brilliant on Eva?! I think it is just her size too. Oh! And there is a silver mask in that shop that would go perfectly with this. How lucky!" He grinned giving the items to the lady before paying for them.

Monsieur Monreau half heartedly followed his companion into the shop with the mask. This was not his definition of enjoying himself. "Raoul, do you really think Prince John is that bad?" He asked curiously as the other lightened his pocket once more and gained another parcel.

"Politics? You would rather talk about politics than buy some pretty ladies presents?" Raoul teased while giving the shop owner a bow of gratitude. "Truth be told, Camille and I happen to agree with Madame. You see, the Queen might favor one for the other but when you whittle it down, she just does not want any of her sons to get hurt by the hand of the other. Whether the prince is good or bad is irrelevant. Eva, though, holds a different opinion. She does not like it when people are being troubled because of the whims of monarchs. You may remember I told you she was quite outspoken that winter about how she thinks the King's Crusade was a silly go for glory. And you have to admit, her fate has been much altered due to Prince John and his Black Knights." He sighed taking a glance at the shop window they had just passed by. The, he paused and walked backwards. "That is perfect! Remy come look." He waved to his friend absently. "Now that ring, that ring Camille would like. It is small and unassuming yet look at the clarity of those stones embedded on the metal." He pushed open the shop's door and held open for his dumbfounded friend. "Remy, come on. I can not hold the door all day." He gave his friend an expectant look.

Remy shook his head believing he would never understand how his comrade could jump from being serious to flippant in less than a second. But he could not deny the pleased look on his face. He returned the man's expression with an easy smile of his own. "I'm coming. Look who is in a hurry now?" He jested defeated as he went through the doors.

--
-- St. Malo--

"Who in the world would name a tavern Le Bouffon?" Much just stared outside staring at the sign of the building. The sun was setting over the the walls of St. Malo. The amazed feeling he had when they were enthusiastically looking at all the different wares the shops and carts carried was gone. Now, he could care less about the fabulous colourful jumper he had seen earlier or how Djaq had found a cart selling Saracen scarves or how John found a shop that made staff like weapons. He was tired. He was hungry. They have been walking around in town for most of the afternoon asking random people if they could suggest a place that accommodates visitors. But each inn that they were directed to was full because of the various traders visiting the island in the summer. Oddly enough, all the inns had recommended to try the Le Bouffon. "It's a terrible name. It's like a joke-- the Jester tavern." He commented. He heard a roar of laughter above the noise of the busy bar. He gave Robin a passing glance. "Oh well, it looks like it's full. We should just find another place." He suggested turning away from the door ignoring his growling stomach.

But Robin grabbed his friend's arm. "No, I'm hungry." He stated simply. "Besides, there's no other place to stay unless you want to stay in the street. I think we have enough money for food and board unless you want to stay outside. Do you want to stay in the streets Much?" He grinned knowing that his friend would refuse that suggestion in a heartbeat.

True enough, Much turned again. "No." He answered adjusting his clothes so that he would look proper. "I just-- I just don't like the look of this place that's all." He defended himself.

Allan smirked in amusement. He was the first one to head for the doors of the tavern. "Oh come on! It can't be much different from the Trip." He waved off Much concern.

"See? That's the spirit." Robin chuckled following Allan inside the the tavern with Djaq, John and Carter right behind him.

"That's because this is Allan's element. Besides, I have spirit." Much objected coming after them. "I always have spirit." He said rushing in so that he wouldn't be left behind. He took in the sight of the La Bouffon and gasped. "This is nothing like the Trip." The place was decorated with bright green, yellow and orange streamers hanging by the walls. Smaller triangular banners of the same colours crisscrossed the ceiling. There was a second floor filled with tables that could look down to the center of the main floor. And the brightly lit tavern was packed with noisy drinkers large and small. He spotted several immodestly dressed bar maids weaving in and out of the crowd carrying mugs of drink while holding their own against the patrons' teasing. A tug on his sleeve pulled him out of his shock.

"What are you doing? You're sticking out." Will warned tilting his head towards a table full of outlaws. "Allan's gone to get us drinks." He noticed the entreating confused look on the smaller man and promptly continued. "Don't ask me how he's doing that. You said it yourself. This is his element." He informed the uncomfortable man leading him to the table.

Much took his seat across Robin and shook his head. "This is revolting." He squeaked watched as one of the barmaid leaned in slowly between Robin and Little John to place three drinks on the table for them. Much blushed furiously when the girl gave him a provocative look before she left. "Or not." He added his eyes trailing the lady that had just left. Then he shook his head trying to regain control over himself. "Eve. I can't do that to Eve." He told himself.

Robin reached across the table to give his former servant a quick pat on the shoulder. "Lighten up!" He exclaimed enjoying the energy inside the tavern. "That's an order." He jested smiling in that childish way that made the table chuckle in amusement. "I think Marian would've loved it here if the girls weren't so... fiesty." He mused out loud.

The smaller man took a mug in front of him and took a drink. He placed the mug down cringing. "What is this?" He glanced around for something to take the taste out of his mouth.

"Mead or at least that's what I understood." Allan answered carrying four mugs with him while a tavern girl intentionally brushed against him heading the opposite direction. He paused to catch her eye for a second before continuing his return to the table. "Not being funny, but I think I like this place. Very friendly." He smiled widely.

But just as he placed the mugs down, a large smartly dressed man in a bright blue vest a dark gray arm band on a white sleeve stood right behind him unamused. "Monsieur. Mon porte- monnaie si vous plait?" He demanded so quickly and suddenly that the people on the table couldn't make out what he said.

Allan turned giving the man and his serious looking friends a confused look. "What? Sorry mate, I'm not french." He answered shrugging he shoulders and looking around to his friends for a translation.

He watched a red head girl with same dark gray scarf on her neck to the right of the man roll her eyes whispering to the man's ear before tilting her head to the other leaner man with the same armband. "C'est un Anglais."She said dryly.

"Englishmen." The large man sneered eying everyone in the table who were starting to get to their feet anticipating trouble. "We have no business with you," he said in English while measuring up the other outlaws with his eyes, "just this one." He pointed at the ginger head trickster.

Robin gave the man an easy smile as he crossed his arms to stand in between Allan and the angry man. "Well," he replied smugly. "if you have business with him, you have business with the rest of us." He challenged knowing that the seven of them outnumbered the three. He saw the man in blue raise his eyebrows. And suddenly, the tavern grew quiet.

"Master, I don't think you should have done that." Robin heard Much whisper from behind. He saw the men eating a few tables beside them stand from their seats reaching for their weapons while continuing their meal and realized that Much was right. He shouldn't have done that.
--

The Jester's owner heard the main floor of his establishment grow quiet and he immediately bowed to his small audience of four to get on his way. He hopped onto the second floor ledge's railings balancing on the narrow wood with ease. He looked down while making sure that the bright yellow strips of cloth that tangled on his orange sleeves were still in place. His dark eyes watched as a table of twenty people stood up ready to fight seven strangers in a nearby table. His eyes narrowed leaning forward slightly to see if he could make out who exactly was creating trouble in his beautiful tavern.

His jaw dropped when he saw the various dark gray bands on one side and a familiar bunch of outlaws in the other. "Robin Hood in Malo?" He asked himself mouthing the words in the exaggerated expression that would be a credit to his profession. He stared at the visitors he never thought he would see again after he left Nottingham. The jester never imagined that the same people who helped him leave the county after a complication with the sheriff about a certain bird would waltz right in his tavern and be in the middle of a dispute. He watched as the man in blue waved a finger in the air in circles. The table filled with men quickly brandished their weapons yelling as they closed the distance. The seven outlaws rushed to retrieve their own before they could get over run.

The Fool smacked his forehead with his hand shaking his head as the other patrons made their out of harms way when mayhem ensued on the first floor. Then he remembered colour that he has placed on his face. He grabbed a chalice from a nearby table to check on his make up. Seeing that it was still in place, he scanned the second floor for anybody that could help stop the madness below before the two groups could wreck the building. A grin grew on his face when he saw another much more familiar man wearing a blue vest similar to the one worn by the man who had picked a fight downstairs. His smile widened in delight in seeing he and his companion were sporting their red armbands. The bar's owner quickly walked towards this group completely balanced on the railing.

He plopped dramatically on the railing right beside the man in a blue vest. "My lovely inn has gone to the birds Monsieur! Michael, what am I to do?" He cried while his hands made quick circles in the air miraculously conjuring up a white pigeon that he immediately set free.

Michael laughed placing a comforting hand on the English jester's shoulder. "Ah, but you could always see this as another type of entertainment. All is not lost yet." He winced when he saw a blonde man in a red and black vest hit the temple of one of the twenty with the pommel of his sword "That has got to hurt." He pointed out to the man beside him. " I think the visitors are going to win. I mean just look at that big man right there with the staff. What do you think Gabe?" He asked.

The large man just shrugged and rubbed his spiky dark hair. "I think that Saracen's sword is too big and heavy for him. Wait. Correction. Her. And that small one with the buckler-" he shook his head, "- sword's too light for him. And that one that pickpocket right there," he pointed at Allan, "just plain too thin." He complained.

"Ever the sword smith." His companion commented wryly.

The owner cringed when one of the benches broke due to a powerful downswing from a bludgeon. "This is a complete insult to my profession. There's no comedy. No witty banter. Not even drama. Just a lot of yelling and noise. I think this would only be interesting if it were an act. A play if you might. Where none of my things get broken." He huffed crossing his arms.

Michael sighed knowing what the fool was asking of him. "Really Monsieur, I do not feel like picking a fight with Alexander especially for a bunch of people I do not know. Plus, they started it by picking his pocket. They had it coming." He saw the jester give him the most overly done glum expression he had and looked back to the fight below just in time to see a thin man with an axe duck away from a sword swing then back to the pleading jester. He brandished his own sword as he sat on the railing himself. "I can not believe I am doing this. You owe us one." He swung his legs over giving his friend a wry grin. "Are you coming or what?" He asked.

"I will take the stairs." The sword smith answered reaching for his sword.

The man shrugged. "Suit yourself. This is the better entrance." He raised his sword up to the air and yelled "Soleil Rouge! Venir à la rescousse." before jumping off the banister and landing on the table below.

Immediately, the owner saw a few more people brandish their weapons and join the fray. Each with a red tag visible in their being. "Remember red stains on the wood will clash with yellow green and orange!" He called out after them.

--Cherbourg, Normandy --

Captaine Jean Baptiste tapped his foot on the wooden planks of the Cherbourg port as the soldier in front of him looked through the pieces of parchment legitimizing his cargo. He could feel himself get impatient but worse of all, he could feel his crew getting impatient watching the soldier work in what seemed like slow motion. It was already far past dinner and they were all tired and hungry. The soldier shuffled the parchments around again causing the captain to sigh. Red tape is exactly the reason why he would rather have smuggled the goods in than go through the correct channels. But his customer insisted on the doing things correctly and paid him extra for doing so. He had no choice but to comply.

There was a wave of noise from the main deck as the guard proceeded to recheck everything again. He gave his crew a warning glance quickly silencing them. "Monsieur, Normandie is under the English Crown is it not? What is the danger of cargo from England going to England?" He stated calmly but in such a tone that belittled the guard.

The man stared at the captain in surprise meeting the Malouin's indifferent gaze. "Fine. Unload." The guard replied segregating which parchments would go to him and which he should return to the Captain.

Jean Baptiste took his documents without so much of a greeting goodbye and walked back up the plank to his ship. He saw his men smirking when he passed by. "Yes yes, I know. I know. I hate having to go through them too. Incompetent imbeciles." He heard his men start laughing when he stretched his arms overhead relieving the stress on his shoulders.

"Captain, I think they heard you." One of his crew jested still laughing at his off hand comment about the guards.

He waved the reply off. "Let them come then. We are ten times better than those lot." He gave his men a wry smile. "Come on, let us get this cargo down, have some dinner, rest and we can all go back to the insanity of home." He ordered. His men cheered getting to work immediately. Jean Baptiste made his way to his quarters wearily but stopped right before he reached the steps going down to his door. He fingered the sword on his side. Then, like something just turned on inside him, he whipped around with his sword unsheathed just in time to cross swords with a black hooded person with a black scarf covering everything but his eyes. The man looked like a solid shadow.

"Jean Baptiste Cartier, you have been weighed." The person barely whispered at him. The captain attacked forward but the man parried every blow. The two combatants separated eying each other as they circled. "You have been measured." The person continued as he dodged the Malouin's horizontal swing with turn that enabled the shadow to catch and twist his sword arm while the shadow stood perpendicular to his footing behind him with his sword tip on his lower spine. "And you have been found wanting." The person finished a bit louder and cheerier this time. "Do you yield, monsieur?"

The captain groaned realizing that he wasn't being attacked at all. It was a game they all played when they were younger whenever they saw each other in England or France. A game of thieves and guards involving sword play between the Malouins, Michael, Gabe, Alexander and himself as the thieves and the French or Englishmen, depending on who is available, Raoul, Tristan, Leigh and Evangeline as the illustrious guards. The game would always end with the same phrases-- "You have been weighed. You have been measured. And you have been found wanting. Do you yield?"

"I yield, I yield." He chuckled dropping his sword in surrender. But he was not free yet. "I yield to the all great Mademoiselle Evangeline Stone de Laurent to whom I surrender pleading for mercy. Mercy my Lady mercy." He unfeelingly finished the worn speech. The hold on his sword hand was released at the same time the sword tip eased on his back. "Mademoiselle, if you have a proper sword now, I wager you have been back to see Gabe in Malo." He said rubbing his sore shoulder while he turned.

Evangeline pulled her hood off and loosened her scar with one hand while handing her sword over to the man for inspection. "It is perfect. Gabe is an absolute genius. It feels like an extension of my arm. Now all it needs are fingers so I can properly slap people at a distance." She gushed watching her friend look over the new shining sword approvingly picking up his discarded sword made by the same person. They exchanged swords right after sheathing them before giving each other friendly hug. "I was watching back there with Blanche." She motioned to where he had waited for the soldier to finish. "Jean, you were the last person I would think of to give in to the system." She smiled pulling herself up so she could sit on main deck's railings greeting the men who happened to recognize her.

"We were paid very well to do it this way." He leaned forward on the railing watching his men unload cargo. "You are still sporting the gang's red tag in your hair." He pointed out. "When did you leave Malo?" He asked curiously.

The girl tapped her chin in thought. "About two days ago. I was suppose to ride back south but I could not resist coming by Normandy for those lovely apple and pear pastries and cider. So I rode here instead. Just got in Cherbourg this afternoon when I overheard some shop keeper bragging he has acquired items from England." She grinned widely. "Of course, I would ask how it was coming in and he mentioned a certain ship named Fleur so..." She hopped down from the banister pulling on her friends hand. "Captain, I bought some pastries and seafood and cider to share with you and the crew. Blanche has portioned us some in your cabin." She tugged the man onward.

"Eva, how did you get the money-" He started but stopped seeing the lady's innocent expression. "You stole from the coffers of the crown again?" He exclaimed at a low tone. "We should never have taught you anything when we were younger." He shook his head light heartedly. He followed the girl as she swung the door to his cabin open and entered excitedly as the smell of cheese, pastries, and seafood wafted out the door. He watched as the girl took a seat comfortably.

"Jean, are you just going to stand there when there is food here?" She asked as she poured cider into their cups.

The captain laughed pulling his chair back. "Your absolute lack of concern for what people may think of your modesty amazes me. Coming in my quarters with food on the table for a candle lit dinner-- what would the men think?" He said raising his glass to clink with hers.

"That I brought food and we are going to spend the night inside your cabin in passion." She feigned a love sick lady then shook her head laughing. "Serin Captaine Cartier. Your crew knows me well enough to be thinking like that. We are friends eating as friends." She bit into an apple pastry and sighed as the sweetness took over her.

Jean Baptiste rolled his eyes. "Right. Or they would pity that poor crusader of yours and me thinking you are toying with us both." He suddenly placed his cup down with concern as he remembered the poor crusader in question. "Evangeline, have you been in correspondence with your crusader lately?" He asked afraid his friend had no idea what was happening.

The girl put her own cup down giving the young captain a confused look. "Green is not your colour, Jean." She teased. But upon seeing the man's serious expression, she straightened in her seat. "We spend more time apart than physically together that silence is normal. What is a few thousand leagues anyway?" She answered honestly. "Besides, there has been a lot of activity in the court then I fell sick after an attack from a group of mercenaries heading for Laurent and Girard." She shrugged. "I know where Carter is though if that is what you require. He is in Nottingham with Robin Hood and his lot." She took a pastry but paused before eating it. "Hold on. Why are you asking? Did you go to Nottingham?" She asked before popping the pastry in her mouth.

The Malouin ran his fingers through his long hair and winced now that he knew that his friend knew nothing of what has happened. "Mademoiselle, your Nottingham friends and Carter are not in Nottingham. They are in Malo. I dropped them there myself this very afternoon." He informed her.

She gave the man a baffled look crossing her arms. "What are they doing there? Joining the thieves guild? I hope they do not join Alexander's lot. That would put us against each other. I still do not understand how Alexander became so ruthless." She chuckled reaching for her glass but the captain pulled it away just in time.

"Eva, they are sneaking into France for God knows what reason." He answered as the girl tried to retrieve her glass again and fail. "Listen to me for one second. Your friends are under the impression that you are dead. Your crusader is under the impression you are dead and he is grieving for his apparent loss. You should see him, Eva. I hardly recognized him in Falsmouth because he was not at all like the man accompanying you a few weeks back." He gave the girl back her drink.

But this time Evangeline didn't take her drink. The captain felt the mood of the night change dramatically. "That is impossible. We killed all those mercenaries. No one could have reported to them that terrible lie. And I would like to believe Carter is smarter than to believe things like that without proof. I mean, you obviously did not believe it." She took a dagger and started twirling it in between her fingers.

He knew his friend well enough to know that the dagger was there out of pure habit. "You know my theory about death and shifting winds. And I have not talked to Michael or Gabe who I am sure Michelle would inform himself." He argued. "And he has proof, my dear. He has your uncle and Tristan's daggers." He watched his friend pale considerably at that piece of news. "He said a man named Remy Moreau came to Nottingham looking for him but met this Allan- A- Dale and this Will Scarlett instead. He said that Remy Moreau informed them of your death and gave the daggers, your Sherwood tag and a cross necklace-"

"That is impossible!" She repeated for the second time extreme disbelief cutting off her friend. She sheathed the dagger feeling her hand starting to tremble. "Remy went to his mother's after and it does not take that fast to get..." She placed her head on her hands to keep the room from spinning along with her thoughts. "But that means that it was Remy. We have been compromised by Remy... That day he only said Laurent and Girard... Moreau Place was not targeted. But he was the one who... He fought too...He is with Raoul... That can not be right..." She trailed on incoherently. "I can not believe it. This is not happening." She moaned as all the pieces flashed in her mind completing the puzzle that has haunted her since she had returned from Nottingham. Remy betrayed them. Remy helped them demolish the Order. Remy has been lying all along which meant the peace in the Holy Lands was not the one in danger. That must have been a lie as well. It was the Queen Mother. The Black Knights needed the Order gone so that nobody would be left to protect the Queen. She placed her forehead on the table like she was about to be guillotined.

Captain Jean Baptiste Cartier leaned forward reaching for his friend's arm. She raised her eyes to meet his concerned ones. "Evangeline Stone de Laurent, whatever it is that is troubling you, you can not trust this Remy Moreau. You say he is with Raoul. Where are they going?" He inquired knowing this would help his friend focus.

"Marseilles." She answered quickly. "But he is with Raoul. That man would set everything in advance so that when he reaches Marseilles it would be to simply leave. Raoul should be in Toulouse. If I ride at first light and refuse to stop anywhere, I could probably intercept get to them before they leave Montpellier or Arles."

"Try Arles. For Raoul's sake, I hope you get there in time." The Malouin prayed.
--
--St. Malo--

Robin was surprised to see a man drop down from the second floor and onto the table he was on shouting about the sun. He was even more shocked when some of the people around started helping fend off the ones that had started a fight with them. He grinned as he drank the scene in with his eyes. The odds were evenly matched now.

He swung his bow hitting a man to his right squarely on his jaw before jabbing him away on his stomach. He felt himself suddenly pushed away by the new comer to the left of him on the table right before a sword's downswing could cut off his foot. The man in a similar blue vest stepped on the flat of the sword blade with one foot and kicked the man with the his other foot. To his right, Robin found Much climbing on to the table to help him as the rest of the gang were in different positions around the table defending themselves from the onslaught of people heading for them. "This is ridiculous." He muttered to himself kicking a man who was standing on the bench ready to attack him.

"You know, there is only one real way to end this." He saw the new man grin as he spun downwards to hit a man on the head with his scabbard. The man jumped off the table and planted himself its head. Robin paused for one second trying to remember who he saw that particular spinning move from.

"How's that?" Robin heard Much ask while pushing a goon off the table and onto someone else.

"You have to get the big blue one to stop." The man replied laughing as he used his the tip of his sword to fling a metal mug to his new opponent hitting the man on the forehead.

Robin took his first arrow out of the holder and stood right at the edge of the table behind the man that had come to help them. "Cover me." He ordered as he pulled back.

The man's eyes widened when he caught a glimpse of the man with a bow and arrow as he spun to counter an attack. "Hey! The ones with the red tags are my men. If you hit them, there will be hell to pay." He warned.

The archer smirked as he took aim at his target who was currently fighting with Little John near a wall. "Oh, don't worry. I don't miss." He replied confidently letting the arrow loose. The arrow split the air between the two large men before embedding itself on the wall. The large Malouin stopped to face him just as he let another arrow loose that barely grazed the man's cheek. The tavern stood still for the second time that night. "Or maybe I do miss!" He shouted as he took another arrow and pulled his bow taut.

"Interesting." He heard his rescuer say when he lowered his sword vertically and leaned on it.

"That depends entirely up to you, Monsieur." Robin continued with a little bit more flourish with the French word.

The smaller Malouin leaned back on the table and looked up at Robin. "Repeat after me." He instructed with his own sly grin. "You have been weighed. You have been measured. And you have been found wanting. Do you yield? You have a go."

With a humoured smile, Robin obliged. "You have been weighed-" He proclaimed grazing the man's cheek with another arrow seeing that he moved. Robin shook his head reaching for another. "You have been measured. And apparently," Robin gave his opponent a cheeky grin, "you have been found wanting." He pulled back on his bow. "Now, do you yield?" He asked.

There was an audible pause inside the tavern as the patrons looked to the large man for a response. The man grimaced. "I yield." He gave a signal with his hand for his men to stand down. A cheer erupted from those of the opposing team with the red tags.

"Say the rest, Alexander!" Robin heard another large man with a red tag taunt in a far corner. "You know the words. Who do you yield to? Are you going to beg for mercy?" He continued.

The man named Alexander growled in anger. "Child's play! Grow up Gabriel." He snarled at the man. Then he shifted his gaze to the one standing aloof in front of Robin. "And you Michael. How dare you interfere? Are you in league with these Englishmen?" He demanded. "Might as well be in league with Arthur of Brittany." He sneered. There were several "ooh"'s and "ahh"'s in the audience.

"Better than being aligned with those fashion deprived dark knights not even the assassins league want to touch. Being paid rather badly too." Michael shot back making his way to where Allan was standing. "Maybe, this is my good deed for the day? Have you even thought of that?" He suggested placing one open hand in front of Allan. "Come on little ginger cat. Give it back. Even I saw you from up there." He said expectantly.

Robin gasped in shock when Allan produced a purse from his pocket reluctantly giving it to Michael. "Allan!" He yelled at his gang member watching Djaq hit the man at the back of his head.

Allan looked around sheepishly. "I thought we would need money. He looked well- off!" He tried to defend himself vainly.

"We will talk about this later." Robin promised glaring at the tavern trickster.

Michael tossed the money back to its owner. "There you go Alexander. No harm done. I'm going to get back to my meal now. Although, I do not think there's much left in yours." He chuckled motioning to the table some of them were still standing on.

The other man walked towards him so that the two were only inches apart staring each other down. "You know the rules of interfering with other people's business, Michael. The council will agree to fine you for this." He threatened.

"And you know the uses of spearmint leaves, Alexander. The council will agree for you to chew some." The smaller man replied coolly.

Alexander grabbed the man by the collar ready to strike him but a clear voice rang through the air. "Oh no! Not more of this!" The man sighed loudly for all to hear. Alexander watched as the Jester stood on the swinging large low round wooden chandelier not far from them. He jumped off it landing on the table next to Robin. The gang's eyes widened in seeing a familiar face. "Alexander, you're simply not funny enough. Leave the entertainment to me next time. Off the Le Loup Gris go." He shooed the boy from his tavern. Slowly and hesitantly, the man's gang filed out of the door with its leader glaring at the smug group still frozen at their place.

"I know you." Will pointed at the owner of the inn as the tavern started getting back to its normal form.

"I know you too! Isn't that nice?" The Fool replied before turning to Michael and Gabe who was now standing right beside his friend. "Le Soleil Rouge, Michael and Gabe meet the Sovereigns of Sherwood, Robin Hood and company." He introduced the two gangs.

"Sovereigns of Sherwood. I like the sound of that." Much grinned.

Gabe was taken aback. "Robin Hood? As in the ones in that song you like? Robin Hood Robin Hood riding through the glen. Robin Hood Robin Hood with his band of men. Feared by the bad. Loved by the good. Robin Hood. Robin Hood." He recited quickly. "That Robin Hood?"

The Jester waved the monotone rendition of the song off. "Next time, with feelings! It makes it more memorable." He reminded the sword smith.

Michael marched up to the largest of the other gang. "Somehow, I never imagined you to be the quiet leader type from Jester's stories." He crossed his arms eying Little John curiously.

Little John's eyes widened in surprise. "Not I. Him." He pointed to the real Robin Hood.

"Oh! My mistake. I imagined a forest person and well... you were it." Michael shrugged moving to shake the outreached hand of the real leader. "Do you know who you just made an enemy of?" He smiled slyly. "Alexander may not be the favorite in Council of Guilds but he sure is in the thieves guild. Well maybe, partly because he has the largest gang." He sighed dramatically to the delight of the jester. "Monsieur, you just earned the wrath of the Prince of Thieves." He grinned patting the man playfully on the shoulder. "But since you have defeated him, tonight, you are the Prince of Thieves. Good job!" He commended.

"And on our very first day here in St. Malo." Robin chuckled with him.

"Beginner's luck." The Jester added jumping off the table and back to solid ground.

Gabe silently leaned forward slightly eying the piece of carved wood dangling from Will's neck. "I know someone who has that tag." He pointed at the man's chest before he caught a glimpse of something else at the back of a blonde man beside the carpenter.

He rushed to the be back at Michael's side leaning in to whisper in his ear. Michael's smile faded as he eyed the men from Sherwood suspiciously. The change in disposition from the two was not lost on the gang or the Jester. "What's going on?" The owner asked.

"That would depend, Monsieur le Bouffon. Maybe something. Maybe nothing." Gabe walked straight up to Carter. "This will be your only chance." He warned the crusader. "Those daggers you have at your back do not belong to you. Leave them with us." He demanded calmly.

"I refuse. They were given to me." Carter explained in the same tone crossing his arms.

Michael stepped forward frowning. "Given? To you?" He scoffed. "No offense, but those were stolen in Anjou from a distinguished member of the Le Soleil Rouge. Imagine finding it with you lot." He eyed the gang carefully. "I was ready to help you with whatever it was you need but now I see you have betrayed a member of your own gang who also happens to be in mine by stealing something so precious. Believe me, I will happily align myself with Alexander's Le Loup Gris to see that you will never leave St. Malo with those. I would be after the daggers but Alexander-- he would not let you leave island at all." He paused looking at Robin. "Now, if you resign them to us, I will make sure they go back to the owner and we will speak nothing of it." He offered. "These are your people, Monsieur. Make your decision."

Robin saw the stifled pained expression in Carter's face as he slowly retrieved the daggers from his belt ready to give them up for the sake of his gang and the mission. "Carter, no." He said quickly moving so he would be in between the crusader and the Malouins. "I don't think Eva would have wanted you to give them up. We'll find another way out of this." He nodded decisively.

"So you do admit it's not yours?!" The Jester plopped down to sit on the table. "Gang's are so confusing." He moaned. The he sat up straighter in an instant. "Hold on. Did you just say Eva? As in the Lady Evangeline Stone de Laurent?" He asked curiously raising an eyebrow at the two that sported the red armbands.

"Yes. They were her daggers. Her uncle and cousin's to be exact." Robin answered staring objectionably at the Le Soleil Rouge. "And now that she's dead, it is only fitting that her belongings went to someone who loved her-- Carter." He motioned to the crusader behind him.

The three residents of the island broke into hysterical laughter much to the gang's surprise. "I don't get it. What did Robin say?" They heard Will ask. They saw the Saracen beside him shrug in response.

Michael wiped the tears that had started to form in his eyes. "So you are Carter! Yes, I remember now. She did say you were in Nottingham. I was starting to think she was making you up all these months." He returned to his amused and easy going countenance. "Never thought she would go for the serious type." He laughed heartily.

"That is probably why she never felt anything for you or me or Raoul or Jean or Leigh and obviously Alexander is a different reason all together." Gabe recounted with his fingers. "Ah! Those were good times. We were so small playing in the ports." He recalled before erupting in laughter again.

Michael bowed lowly to Carter. "Well, in the light of this new information, Le Soleil Rouge is at your service once more." He stepped forward jabbing a finger at the crusader. "But if you hurt her, believe me there is nowhere in this world or the next that you will find solace." He warned.

"What are you talking about?" Robin Hood finally asked absolutely bewildered in whatever the three were suddenly laughing about. "Evangeline has crossed over to the next life."

The Jester slapped his knee trying to recover. "Someone played a very cruel joke, Robin. That man should be hanged. But then, I love being the bearer of good news so maybe he should live." He cleared his throat. "Dear Sovereigns of Sherwood, Lady Stone de Laurent is not six feet underground. She is on the ground. In fact, she was here for a few days and left two days ago." He informed the gang. He watched as the confusion slowly melted into shock and happiness.

"Who told you that she was dead?" Michael inquired. .

"Remy Moreau." Carter answered. He was relieved yet now he was wrought with worry. Remy Moreau was her friend and a Knight of Aquitaine. But if this was, indeed, his doing, there was the possibility that he was the spy. And if he were the spy, then Evangeline may not be alive for very much longer.

Gabe crossed his arms once more. "Interesting. That man is their friend but if he has done that knowing its effect, then he is no friend at all." He winced at the thought of his two childhood friends unknowingly standing beside such a character. "What trouble have Raoul and Eva gotten themselves into this time?"

-- Calais --

"Row. Row. Row your boat, Gently down the stream." The Sheriff sang as he spotted the port of Calais from the deck of the ship. He grinned ecstatically rubbing his hands together while the gulls flew overhead under the clear blue sky. The sheriff was not the type of man that could be easily excited but the prospects of their venture "Merrily. Merrily. Merrily. Life is but a dream." He sang then turned to his second in command looming behind him. "A what Gisbourne?" He asked all of a sudden to test if his lieutenant was paying attention.

"A dream." Gisbourne answered him grimly.

The sheriff clapped his hands telling Sir Guy that he had the right answer. "That's right Gizzy. A dream." He mocked the tall man's expression. He turned back to face the port they were approaching. "The dream Gisbourne is right there in that piece of land. Can't you feel it? I can feel it in my fingers. I can feel it in my toes." He grabbed the brooding man by his leather collar a little too forceful than the other might like. "We are so close Gisbourne." He let the collar go hearing the captain order for the anchors to drop. "So close!" He exclaimed.

"And the rest of the Knights will meet us there? Winchester, Spencer, Surrey, Lincoln..." Guy trailed on recounting their members.

Vassey rolled his eyes. "Yes, yes. All of them. Including our very own monarch." He replied wryly. He was about to walk away but he paused. "Gisbourne," he called out, "Make sure the French Winchester is bringing along drink a lot when we celebrate. It makes us look good." He suggested innocently.

Sir Guy of Gisbourne frowned as another complication was thrown to his area of responsibility. "I'll see that they have some wine before we start." He nodded.

"Hm... Yes, dear boy. Do that." The sheriff said before walking away chanting a new phrase. "Off with her head. Off with her head."
-

-- Saint Malo --

Gabriel Reinard placed his feet up on the tavern table reflecting on the events the night before and earlier that morning. He chuckled absently thinking what a big coincidence it was to meet and assist Robin Hood, his gang, and the man courting his friend to France. How easy would it have been to have wronged any of Le Soleil Rouge instead of the leader of the Loup Gris? How convenient was the timing that the Jester had found Michael and himself in the second floor instead of another gang? Although, he found ti very lucky that he decided to ask questions first when he saw his friend's missing daggers instead of skewering the crusader then asking the other gang for information like they would normally do. He would have had a very short life on Earth knowing that girl's temper. "That is Fate for you." He smiled lazily watching the people go by their business.

The chair across him was pulled back and a disheveled sailor plopped down on the chair placing his head on the table. "I hate doing business that entails that much paperwork." The man moaned.

"That is your fault for taking it in the first place. We told you not to especially since they are watching 'all' ports. You are the only crazy one who took a job, Jean." Gabe answered back bluntly. Then he slightly nudged the man's shoulder his foot grinning. "Guess what happened last night. Guess." He nagged playfully.

The Captain lifted his head and leaned back on the table. "I'm really not in the mood for any guessing." He replied worn out.

Gabriel rolled his eyes and shook his head but was not discouraged. "We met Robin Hood and his gang!" He pounded the table chuckling. "This man, Allan, picked the pocket of Alexander. And there was a bar fight and the Jester told us to help them out. And he shot a few arrows at Alexander. I have never seen a man so pale." He recalled fondly. Then his eyes widened remembering something else before his companion could say anything. "Oh! And we met Carter. The one Eva told us about. I was about to pick a fight with that man seeing as he has Tristan and Mark's daggers. We helped them into France this morning. Can you imagine that? Robin Hood here in St. Malo. It is absurd!" He exclaimed.

"I can imagine that because I brought them to Malo." Jean Baptiste informed his large friend. He watched the sword smith's jaw drop amused. "I told you I have met Carter before. Well, they found me in Falsmouth and wanted to go to St. Malo and Eva likes him and Eva is part of that gang too..." He shrugged.

The shocked man recovered with his grin wider than it was a few minutes ago. "Well, that is fate for you." He repeated.

"Speaking of Evangeline," the captain leaned forward on the table grabbing his friend's interest, "I saw her in Cherbourg. It was odd. She does not seem to know about Robin Hood and his gang being here and her supposed death. And there is this man named--"

"Remy Moreau." Gabe finished for him. "We know. Creating trouble for Raoul and Evangeline although none of them would say what exactly." He shook his head disapprovingly. "You know what we should do? We should inquire where his estate is, steal valuables from his manor, and leave a note that says 'Next time, be nice. Love, Le Soleil Rouge'. That would teach him a lesson." He devised pointing a finger to emphasize his points. The two started laughing imagining what this Remy would look like finding the note.

But the laughter was short lived. A very confused looking Michael slowly walked to their table reading a small piece of parchment. He stopped beside Gabe and rolled the parchment up once more so it was no bigger than his palm. "Ha." He scratched his head baffled. "Apparently, we are skipping breakfast today Gabe. This is a note from the Council of Guilds. They had a secret meeting last night." He held up the small roll. "According to the Elders, Alexander and the whole Loup Gris disappeared from St. Malo after the brawl. And the assassins guild, of all people, just reported that they have seen and heard Alexander having a conversation with the Earl of Winchester in England. Now, they claim, and listen to this-" He bowed down so his two friends could hear but no one else, "- they claim that our old friend really did align himself with those supporters of Sans Terre. And his prize, if they succeed, is the whole of St. Malo. Very interesting information yes?" He straightened up, crossed his arms and nodded quite amused at the two's revolted expressions.

"You have to be kidding me?" Jean Baptiste was the first to break the silence. "That is not interesting information-- the is life altering information. We are aligned to no crown or country but Malo. I mean, even the assassins guild would refuse to kill someone who is under any of Malo's guilds. They would rather kill a monarch than hit this tavern's barmaid. And that's the assassins guild!" He reasoned in disbelief.

Gabe just sighed. "Well, we all know that Alexander was ridiculously ambitious. He was the only loser who did not ever say the whole speech. The kill joy." He smiled dryly looking up to the leader of his gang. "Hold on. So, what do the elders want us to do about it?"

"I do not know." Michael admitted honestly. "It does not say. We are just to meet the elders in about half an hour. Oddly enough, this was not addressed to Le Soleil Rouge. It was a personal note and because it is a personal note, I am inviting you both to come with me. You know how those lot are. I refuse to go alone."
--

-- Arles, Provence--

And so she rode. She left her own horse Chestnut at the first post requesting that she be brought back to the Queen's stables at Poitiers. She traveled through the landscape of France with the use of post horses instead. Evangeline stopped only when she felt like she could not ride anymore or the horse was about to give. Otherwise, she went through the terrain mercilessly for days trying her hardest to span the distance between the Normandy and Arles.

Yet the thief could not reconcile her friend's betrayal in her mind. She might have only met Remy when she went with them to the Holy Lands less than a year ago but she had considered him as a dear friend she could have trusted with her life. From the start of her term as a courtier, Remy had always been there with Raoul and Camille showing her what court life was really about. In fact, the four were always together that some thought that she was involved with Remy seeing as the other two are married. It had evolved into a running joke between the two. He had kept her secrets from the members of society and treated her with the same respect and warmth that she was accustomed to with her closest friends. She looked up to him as a brother and he was someone she would have happily given her life for.

But she was mistaken, heart broken and ultimately frustrated. She thought she was better at sizing up a person's character. She never thought she would be fooled by someone. She could have forgiven him if he were simply a spy and promised to reform. But he had placed them all in harms way, stolen her precious belongings while she was sick, then gave those items as proof of her death to her own friends. She needed an explanation. She needed to see the confession for herself. If Remy really had aligned himself with the Black Knights then that simply was unforgivable.

She suddenly found herself in a position she hated as she neared the town of Arles at dawn. She was afraid. She feared that she might be too late to stop Remy, if he really needed to be stopped, too late to save Raoul, too late to save Camille and too late to save the Queen.

The market goers paused to see who was riding into town so early in the morning. They could only gasp when they saw a black hooded figure atop a stallion rushing through the streets expertly maneuvering in between the small alleys to one of the inns. The rider quickly dismounted and tied the horse on the post haphazardly before rushing in the establishment.The good people of Arles surmised that the person was familiar enough with the town meaning that despite the harried disposition, they are in no real danger.

Evangeline pulled off her hood with one hand as she headed for the bar area. She pounded on the table to get the attention of the sleeping man behind the counter. The man lazily raised his head. "A visitor for Monsieur Raoul Girard." She said evenly. She rolled her eyes when the attendant gave her a blank stare. "A tall man. Sand coloured hair. Always in a shade of blue or green. Has a red cloth tied on the hilt of his sword. Funny. Gives long winded explanations that do not amount to much. Hits on women for fun even if he is married." She described her friend hoping the man could tell her if he had arrived.

"Sleepy. Insulted. In a hurry to leave for Marseilles." A voice behind her continued on in the same tone for her.

She spun around just to see her best friend coming down the stairs rubbing the back of his neck and yawning. The girl quickly flung herself to her friend in a relieved embrace. Slowly she felt his arms circle her combing the tangles in her hair away. "Thank God you are still here. Are you alright?" She managed to mumble.

Raoul was caught by surprise. "I think the question is, why are you here and why do you smell like a horse? You are usually the cleanest one amongst us all." He took note of his friend's ruffled appearance at arms length. "How many days have you been riding without sleep? Camille's going to berate you senseless." He asked her wary of her pale complexion and the circles under her eyes.

The girl shook her head lightly waving the question off. "It does not matter." She answered quickly. "We have to get back to Poitiers. I'm betting they will strike on the masquerade." She tugged on the man's sleeve but he would not budge.

"Eva, do you remember that Remy and I are on a mission to go to stop a few wannabe Templars from--" He started to reason in a sing- song tone.

"It is lie." She replied interrupting her friend in mid- sentence. "I have reason to believe that they are after the Queen. So can we please go now? Please?" She begged pulling her friend's hand towards the door. But all of a sudden, there was a blur of purple, white and silver at the corner of her eye. She felt herself being yanked forward by Raoul. She instinctively unsheathed her sword before she found her footing behind her friend.

Raoul crossed swords with the man driven by pure instinct. The swords locked and he kicked his opponent away. The man stumbled backwards. His eyes widened when he realized who he had just fought with. "Remy?" He gasped before he felt himself being yanked the opposite way from the fallen man.

"Back door back door back door." He heard Evangeline chant as he allowed himself to be dragged between the tables and chairs and into the door that lead to the stables.

He pointed to Remy's horse knowing that the girl would understand as he quickly mounted his own horse. Within the minute, the pair had left the inn and the town of Arles behind kicking dust up onto the open road. But Raoul couldn't settle his mind. They had hardly began their journey back to Poitiers when he pulled on the reigns of his horse and called on his friend to stop for one moment. "Evangeline! A moment." He shouted on the top of his lungs. The genius needed an explanation. He watched as she turned her horse around to stop beside his. It was then he noticed how the girl was keeping an unusual silence which she only does when she was extremely agitated trying to keep everything in control. "What happened back there with Remy? Why did he attack? Is that one Gabe's swords? Is that the Le Soleil Rouge tag on your hair? Have you been to Malo again? And more importantly, why are you not in Poitiers getting ready for the Solstice ball? I even sent you and Camille dresses. What a waste that blue one would be if you do not wear it." He questioned all at once in his confusion. He saw the girl's sad countenance give in to laughter before joining her in realizing that he had just placed the most trivial among his questions at the top of his priority list.

"Really. Is seeing me in a dress really that important to you? Is that all that is in your mind? Camille and I in dresses?" Evangeline shook her head and sighed when she recovered. "To answer your questions, yes, I was in St. Malo. Yes, Gabe made my sword. Michael and Gabe, by the way ,send their greetings to you and Camille. Yes, this is the Le Soleil Rouge tag. And that is the easy part." She took a deep breath before continuing. "I went to Cherbourg because I wanted pastries and cider..." She paused when she heard her friend chuckling. She cleared her throat prompting him to stop. "Anyway, I saw Captaine Jean Baptiste Cartier, who sends his love to the both of you as well. He apparently had just came from dropping Robin and his gang in St. Malo because they needed to come to France for reasons Jean did not know about. And then Jean revealed that the gang thought I was dead because Remy or someone acting in Remy's behalf went to Nottingham and gave them my daggers and Carter's necklace which I thought was impossible at first. But then I remembered that you said it was Remy who helped me back to the estate and he disappeared to his mother's right after. So I rode from Cherbourg to try and catch you before you reached Marseilles hoping to get Remy to explain himself or at least get you away from him because if Remy was our little spy, which it seems to me with that attack could hold true, then that whole Saladin attempt is just a plan to finish us off one by one and to leave the Queen absolutely unguarded. And if Robin is here then there is probably something bigger happening regarding the Black Knights and the only time that could happen with the Queen involved is at the Solstice Ball." She finished dejectedly.

Raoul ruffled the girl's hair fondly. "And that is all that is in your mind?" He mimicked managing an amused smirk despite the troubling news she just delivered.

"Carter, thinks I'm dead." She pulled her hair back tying it loosely with the red tie then gave her friend a dejected shrug. "I think he needs a hug."

Raoul chuckled lightly. "All I have ever seen you both do is hug! I think he needs more than a hug after all that grieving just to eventually see you alive yes? I know I'm going to need more than a hug after all this and neither Camille or I have been anywhere near a resurrection." He spurred his horse on. "Poitiers it is."
--

Note: So. I really really really just wanted a bar fight scene in Robin Hood. And yes, I know there's not much sheriff or RH here... but its a transition chapter which is probably why it was so hard to write in the first place. Stay with me here. In my estimations, there is only one chapter left. And I looked it up-- apparently, the children's tune row row row your boat was made in 1881. But then I figured if the sheriff can quote dick dastardly "catch that pigeon catch that pigeon now" (that was dick dastardly right?) thenI can have him singing row your boat, St Malo be ridiculously willful and Calais be er.. "modern". Yes, that is the Jester in the Lardner episode. Love that Jester. Oh! and Geoffrey II of Brittany was the fourth son of King Henry and Queen Eleanor. Now, it also so happens that he used to attack monasteries and churches for money or something. Now St. Malo started out as a religious place so I assumed that they didn't like that very much. But again-- a total assumption. Also, Arthur I of Brittany, Geof II's son, was the crowned prince when Richard left for the crusades. Well, we know how that turned out when Richard came back... but our lovely RH characters don't know that. So back to writing the next chapter.