Hidden beneath her hood, Marian moved boldly through the one street in Nottingham she'd never before set foot in, Gropecunt Street, home to the town's whores. The rain, no longer falling, had turned the street into a maze of puddles, and Marian, still agile in the early stages of pregnancy, dodged them easily. But it wasn't as easy to dodge the unwelcome advances forced upon her. A drunken lord she recognized tried to grab her around her waist, slurring, "Come on, Sweetheart! How'd you like to empty my purse?"

"Get off me!" she hissed, shoving him so hard he fell on his backside with a splash, landing in one of the larger puddles. "Go home to your wife and children!"

It was wrong, she was thinking. Wrong, for her noble hearted, chivalrous Robin to be accused of a sex crime, when he'd never even think of visiting this street, honoring women as he did, and honoring his marriage vows. But she'd help him. She'd break him out of the dungeon, tonight!

Finding the particular bawdy house she was seeking, Marian took a deep breath and pushed open the door.

A rowdy party appeared to be in progress, a party like one Marian had never imagined. Drinking and games of dice were in full progress. Young women in various stages of undress were mixing freely with men of all ages, from a beardless youth of tender years to a toothless old man so frail he couldn't stand on his own. All stations were represented among the clientele as well, saving the peasants. Marian breathed a sigh of relief, glad no one from Locksley was here.

Before Marian's eyes had a chance to adjust to the brilliancy of the candlelit chamber, the short, henna headed woman she'd been seeking hopped off a soldier's lap and hurried to her side, bouncing and jiggling in so many directions it nearly made Marian dizzy.

"What are you doing here?" Maggie asked.

"I need you help," Marian told her, desperately.

Maggie, a good friend of Allan a Dale, had once before helped Robin escape in one of Allan's schemes, dressed, or more accurately undressed, as Lady Godiva astride a horse. She'd then lived for a short time with Robin's gang in the forest, and Marian knew her to be pure of heart, if not of body.

Maggie hustled her into a private room, first shooing out a couple who were just about to get started.

"You shouldn't be here, Your ladyship."

"I need a disguise," Marian told her, singlemindedly undeterred by her surroundings. "I remember you once telling us how you...you women keep a supply of wigs."

"We got wigs, alright. Whad'ju need one for?"

Marian heaved an impatient sigh. She didn't have time for this! "Robin's been unjustly accused. They've taken him to the dungeon, and I need to get him out!"

"What, again? I thought all that was over."

"Apparently not. Will you help me?"

Maggie cocked an eyebrow, thinking. Lord and Lady Locksley weren't bad sorts, for nobles. In fact, they were alright! "Yeah, I'll help. What sorta disguise you want?"

Without flinching, Marian answered, "I need to look like I work here. And," she paused, gathering her plan. "I need some really strong wine."