BORN TROUBLEMAKERS

Ka-thunk!

Rodger's arrow hit the target and buried itself with a satisfying thud. It was his second try, and slightly closer to the center circle than his first.

"Nice job!" Uncle Robin called to him. Rodger smiled gratefully at Robin as the man measured and recorded his score. Marian, Uncle Archer, and his own family stood at the front of the large crowd of spectators, shouting encouragement. Rodger nodded toward them, and reached for his third arrow.

As he did, he saw Eleanor make a face at him from behind her mother. He averted his gaze from her, and focused intently on the smooth, supple lines of his beautifully crafted yew wood bow. It was a recent gift from his father, and the best of any he'd seen used so far at the contest. Not for anything would he acknowledge any of Eleanor's further attempts to distract him, or let on that it flustered him, not in front of all the men and boys of Nottinghamshire!

He glanced back once more, however, and caught his father's eye instead. Father wasn't cheering and waving madly like the rest. It wasn't his way. But his support, and his love, were there in the smile of approval he gave his son.

Over the course of the past year, many things had changed between his father and himself, and it wasn't all bad, Rodger reflected.

'Let go of the father you thought you had,' Mother had said, 'and accept and learn to love the man he is.'

Rodger had taken her counsel to heart. He had left his carefree childhood, with its blissful unconsciousness of the past, behind him forever when his father told him the truth about their family. The shock of the gruesome disclosures had left him crushed and devastated for a time. But it had forced him to take a fresh look at the many-faceted man who was his father, and he'd learned to appreciate his strengths and his good qualities along with the bad. A whole new world of understanding and respect had opened up since.

And his father, it seemed, was finally giving him permission to grow up. He spent the greater part of every day now with Father, overseeing the family's lands and the villagers. No longer was he sent home when Father and Uncle Robin and Allan conferred together about estate business. He was included in, as a part of the male leadership of the family. Mother might not acknowledge his growing maturity just yet. To her, Rodger was still her little boy. But in his father's eyes he was becoming a man.

He smiled back, and turned his attention to his final shot. Fit the arrow to the string, ignore Eleanor, draw back the bow, feel the tension, sight on the target, ignore Eleanor, aim, deep breath, calm. Release!

The arrow hit the outer edge of the center circle. His best shot ever! Another loud cheer went up from the crowd.

"Very impressive, Rodger of Gisborne," said Sir William, as Robin made note of Rodger's score. "Your father must be proud of you."

"Thank you, sir," Rodger replied. He felt his face flush. "I did my best, sir."

Rodger knew he hadn't won the contest. He had done well, better than he expected to, but his score was lower than three other boys. And several other boys, and Eleanor, had yet to shoot.

Fighting back the hollow feeling in his stomach, he turned to make way for the next boy, but as he did, a pair of strong hands gripped his shoulders from behind. He twisted his head around, and saw his father's beaming face looking down on him.

"I am proud of him, Sir William," Guy told the Sheriff. "Any man would be proud to have a son like mine."

Rodger smiled up at his father, and suddenly it didn't matter to him one bit that he hadn't won the silver arrow.

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The last boy from the crowd of hopefuls took his turn. The crowd began to call out impatiently for the name of the winner when the Sheriff waved his hands for silence.

"We have one more contender amongst the fourteen to eighteen year-olds. Our final competitor today will be Eleanor of Locksley," he announced.

Instantly there was a murmur of protest from the crowd, and a few raised voices.

"What? What's this? A girl?"

"That's Robin of Locksley's daughter. You know, Robin Hood."

"Oh, yes, him. But, his daughter? Doesn't he have a son?"

"No, lad, just her. She's a fair shot, so I've heard."

"But she's a girl! We can't have girls in this contest. It's not right!"

"Why not?" called out Eleanor in a loud voice. "Why can't I?"

The murmuring men were stunned into silence. That the Sheriff would allow her to be in the contest was bad enough, but now the sassy little chit was talking back to them! Well!

"Sir William, I must beg to differ! This is against the rules!"

"I understand your concern, Thomas of Lancaster, but no rule is being broken. There are no rules forbidding women from entering the contest. Eleanor is free to take her turn."

There were a few tolerant smiles, but many more groans of disapproval.

"Ridiculous!" muttered one. "An insult!" muttered another.

"Those are strong words," said Archer, his arms crossed on his chest as he stepped toward the protesters. "An insult, you say? An insult to whom?"

"You stay out of this, Archer!" grumbled yet another.

"That's Sir Archer of Locksley to you, Simon of Clun," said Robin. "He's a knight, might I remind you, and visiting us from the king's court."

Simon's surly red face blanched at the mention of King John, and he said no more. Robin confronted the rest of them.

"Men of Nottingham, what exactly is the problem here? Oh, I see, you're afraid to let a girl compete, is that it? Big men like you? What's your concern, that she might better the score of some of your sons?"

"Now, you listen here, Robin Hood—"

"That's Lord Robin of Locksley, Earl of Huntingdon to you, Thomas," responded Archer.

"Men!" scoffed Meg, as she shook her head in disgust at the scene. "Always itching for a fight. Guy, stop them, before someone gets hurt!"

"Mama!" Eleanor nudged her mother. "Pull your Nightwatchman moves on them! That'll settle them!"

Ever since she'd learned of her mother's youthful career as the mysterious Nightwatchman, Eleanor had pestered her mother to show and teach her some of her "moves", especially those she had employed in her escapes from Guy and his soldiers. She never tired of hearing her mother's tales of derring-do, or laughing at Uncle Guy for getting himself shamefully kicked down the stairs of Locksley Manor by said Nightwatchman.

The girl is diabolical, thought Marian. How did she know I was thinking the exact same thing? Hmm, if these fools start a fight with Robin and Archer, I wonder if I could still….

Guy, who had overheard Eleanor's suggestion, and subsequently read Marian's thoughts, grinned hugely. He turned to Marian.

"Eleanor is her mother's child, no doubt of it," he whispered to her. "And her father's." He gestured at Robin and Archer, who were on the verge of squaring off with several of Nottingham's more belligerent residents. "Look at those two. Born troublemakers, both of them."

"Guy, don't let them fight, please!" Marian whispered back urgently. "Stop them! Don't make me do it!"

"No? Not much has changed, you know. You're every bit as much of a troublemaker as they are, Lady Marian the Nightwatchman. Come on, won't you humour me this once? I'd love to stand back and watch you kick their behinds like you did mine."

"Guy, please!"

"All right, all right," he muttered. Then, borrowing a favourite teasing word of Robin's, he silently mouthed "Spoilsport!" to her before he stepped forward to stand between Robin and Archer and the crowd of men pressing in on them.

"You all heard Sir William," he said, in that deep, dangerous tone of authority the older men amongst them remembered well, and dared not challenge further. They knew only too well what Gisborne was capable of when his anger was aroused. "There are no rules being broken here, so I suggest we show some respect for our Sheriff, get on with the contest, and allow our last competitor to take her shots."

The outraged spectators melted away from Robin and Archer, and into a sullen silence.

"Thank you, my friend," Robin said to Guy in a low voice. "I'm in your debt once again."

"Someday I'll call you to account for all the debts you owe me," replied Guy with an amused smile. The crowd parted reluctantly, but they got well out of Sir Guy's way just the same, as he motioned Eleanor forward.

"She'll never win anyway, so what's the harm?" she heard one of them say.

"Aye, but it's still wrong. A girl!" said another.

Eleanor walked past them without a glance, and took up her position in front of the target. She'd show them up for laughing at her!

She looked at the target. It was further away, and seemed a bit smaller, than she was used to. For a moment her resolve faltered, but then she lifted her head proudly.

I'm Robin Hood's daughter! she told herself. I can do this!

She fitted her first arrow to the string, quickly aimed, and shot. It hit very close to the center ring. The men and boys watched in stunned disbelief as her second arrow lodged even closer, within the center ring.

Her confidence restored, Eleanor aimed her third arrow, for the victory. But a treacherous gust of wind caught the arrow mid-flight, and it landed outside the center ring. There would be no bulls-eye for Eleanor today.

The winner, an older boy from Nottingham, took the silver arrow from the hand of the Sheriff, to the cheers of the crowd. A defeated Eleanor rejoined her father.

"Papa, I didn't win!"

"No, but you gave it your best, and that's what counts."

"The wind took my arrow. It wasn't my fault. I could've hit the center easily if not for that. Shouldn't I have gotten another shot?"

"I'm afraid not."

"But that's not fair, is it?"

"Yes, it is. You all took the same chance when you got up there to shoot. Sometimes things go our way, and that's good. But sometimes they don't. Circumstances that we have no control over come along and change the game for us."

"Not for you, Papa. You're Robin Hood! Everything works out for you!"

Robin chuckled. Let's see, he thought. Prince John became King John, King Richard wasn't all I once believed him to be, I couldn't save every abused peasant in Nottinghamshire, and I even had to finally admit that Marian was right about Guy's better side, so I couldn't kill him like I wanted to. No, things didn't always go my way in the past, and they still don't.

"If only that were true. No, Eleanor, things don't always go according to plan for me, either. Part of competing, part of anything in life, really, is learning to accept defeat, and to accept it graciously."

"It's hard, Papa. I wanted to win so badly, and show those men a thing or two for making fun of me."

"You did show them, and I'm proud of you for it. You were very brave to get up there and not let them intimidate you."

"You really think so?"

"Yes, I do. Besides, there's always next year."

"That's true." Eleanor smiled. "Next year…."

"Right now," said Robin, "there's another person who didn't win, either, and perhaps he could use a bit of cheering up, too."

"Rodger. I know." She sighed. "He did well though, didn't he? I have to say, I was almost impressed."

Robin threw back his head and laughed. Eleanor had taken a blow, but she would bounce back. She was a Locksley, after all.

to be continued...