Prince John was crowing with supercilious malice when McGhee and his other armed attendants dragged Robin of Locksley before his father, the Earl of Huntington, and his guests, the Sheriff of Nottingham, Princess Joan, and Her Majesty, Queen Eleanor of Aquitaine. Robin, dirty, angry, and bedraggled, held his chin high as he faced his father. Proud defiance shone in his eyes, and he held his tongue and did not flinch, even when Prince John slapped him hard across his face.
"McGhee, what is the meaning of this?" the Queen cried. "Unhand that boy! How dare you hold our host's only son and heir? And John! What do you mean by slapping him?"
"He's a beast!" John cried. "He dared assault me, Mummy! He doubled up his fist and punched me in the face! Tell her, McGhee! Everyone here saw him do it, the little fiend! Order his hand chopped off, Mummy! I'll feed it to my dogs! Please, Mummy!"
"John, enough!" the Queen ordered. "Be silent!"
Prince John whined and whimpered, and threatened under his breath to tell the king when they returned to Court. He threw himself down on a bench, but leaped to his feet, finding his royal buttocks sore from their recent fall in the mud. Storming into a corner, he carefully eased himself onto a seat, and pouted.
Sir Edward of Knighton's kind face looked at Robin with sympathetic worry. Princess Joan remained calm and aloof, studying her hands in her lap, and the Queen narrowed her eyes and studied the boy with a burning intensity, and a hint of admiration.
Robin's father did not see the admiration. He was outraged and appalled by his son's conduct.
"Robert, did I not send you to your room?" he asked, his voice cold as steel.
"You did, Father." The answer was spoken as proudly as the look in the boy's crystal blue eyes.
"Then why did you disobey me?"
Robin hesitated. He did not want to implicate Marian in this. At all costs, he wanted to spare her from punishment. At last, he answered, as honestly as he could, "I wanted to play outside."
A small clear voice piped up, drawing everyone's attention to the doorway. Framed inside it, stood little Marian, her cheeks ruddy and streaked with dirt, her hair loose and tangled, her gown a muddy, floured mess. "I am to blame, my lord," she explained. "Punish me, but do not punish Robin on his birthday. I whistled for him to come out and play."
"Marian!" Sir Edward cautioned. "Be still!" Bowing to the Queen, he apologized, "Your Majesty, please forgive my daughter. She speaks when she should be quiet. She is young and has much to learn."
The Earl of Huntingon looked fondly at the small, pretty child. Even dirty and unkempt as she appeared, she was the prettiest little maiden he'd ever set eyes on. He had a soft spot for little Marian, and felt a traitor for plotting to break her unknown betrothal to his son. Still, she was overbold in speaking up as she had before the Queen.
Prince John stood up and fairly screamed, "Why won't any of you dottards listen to me? Robin of Locksley's crime is not that he snuck out of his room, but that he dared raise his fists to me! If my face is scarred-"
"John, silence!" his mother commanded. "I will get to the bottom of that, never fear." Her voice softened, as she continued. "But first, I'd like to hear what this little lady has to say. Come here, child." She gestured for Marian to approach her.
Robin watched, a faint smile turning up the corners of his mouth, as Marian approached the Queen and dropped into a graceful curtsey, as she had been taught to do. The Queen extended a hand heavy with jewels and raised her up.
"You say you whistled?" she asked. "Can you show me how you did that?"
"Yes, Your Majesty," Marian answered, unafraid. Her father bowed his head with shame. He could not believe his own daughter would do such a common, boyish thing and offend the Queen of England, by whistling!
Marian puckered her rosy lips and blew. Her whistle was loud and clear, its pitch first rising and then falling again.
The Queen lifted her eyebrows and smiled, and even Princess Joan blinked her eyes and stared.
"And where did you learn to do that?" Her Majesty asked.
Marian smiled proudly. "Robin taught me. We use various birdcalls as signals."
"Indeed? How very clever of you!" Queen Eleanor signalled for Robin to join her as well.
He quickly approached. Since Marian had executed such a beautiful curtsey, he bowed on one knee before the Queen, not to be outdone.
"Arise, Robin," the Queen said fondly. "You two seem to want to keep the other from getting into trouble, yet you stir up trouble together. I cannot decide whether the two of you are better together, or apart."
"Together!" They spoke the word in unison, each looking at the Queen with pleading blue eyes.
"Well," Her Majesty decided, "there will be time tomorrow to get to the bottom of what happened between you and my son, Prince John. But, today is your birthday, Robin! And I think your lord father was hasty withdrawing your gifts. I, for one, would like to see what such a fine, brave boy as yourself has received this day." She faced the Earl. "Huntington, restore his gifts to him! This is a party, is it not?"
"Yes, Your Majesty." The Earl smiled slowly, glad to be able to shower the son he adored, but did not always understand, with birthday presents.
"If you please, Your Majesty," Marian spoke up again, "I would like to give Robin my present first."
"Of course," the Queen allowed graciously.
Marian felt suddenly shy as she handed Robin his present.
Inside a clean white linen square, Robin found a frog fashioned childishly out of clay. It had a small round ball for a head, with two enormous eyes pressed on top and a smile etched into the clay, a large square body, decorated clumsily on its belly with the Locksley symbol and two stalks of wheat as they appeared on the Huntingtom crest. The frog balanced unsteadily on four thick legs, with large triangles for feet. Robin grinned brightly as he held it in the palm of his hand.
"You made this?" he asked Marian.
She nodded her head.
"It's good!" he declared, believing it was.
He remembered how much fun they'd had just two months before, when the August sun had warmed the Earth, and they had played alongside leaping frogs by the banks of the River Trent. They had skipped stones and dug up clay that afternoon, and Robin had shown Marian how to roll it to make clay arrow shafts. They'd stuck actual feathers in the ends, and made the tips pointed, but their toy arrows alway broke when they held they aloft. But Marian hadn't given up! She'd worked the clay to make this frog for Robin today!
He grinned at its funny, happy face, picturing it on perched on the chest in his room. All of a sudden, it was snatched out of his hand by Prince John.
"Give it back, Prince John!" Robin roared.
"Whoops!" John pretended to drop the clay figure, but actually threw it with so much force, it shattered on the floor.
At that, Princess Joan broke her silence. "John, you are a monster," she said coldly.
Robin looked at the thirteen-year-old young lady with her tawny gold hair and her graceful curves, developing an instant crush on the princess.