Looking herself again, Marian pushed open the door to the Trip to Jerusalem Inn, desperately seeking its proprietor, Allan a Dale.

The Trip, dark and smoke filled and smelling of ale and tallow wax, was even more crowded and noisy than the Cherry Pit had been. Marian was struck again with the thought that her Robin, stubborn and smug and infuriating though he was, never wasted his nights away from home in such places.

"Whoa!" Allan's voice cried out when he noticed her. "What are you doin' here?"

"Looking for you," she answered in a rush. "Robin's locked in the dungeon. You've got to help me!"

"Dungeon...what?"

"They've clapped him in irons!"

Suddenly, all her strength seemed to drain from her, leaving her feeling weak and vulnerable. It was as if she could feel the cold heavy metal biting into her own wrists, rubbing their skin raw. "Please, Allan!" she cried, refusing to allow herself such weakness, "you've got to help me!"

"Yeah, yeah, of course! Just don't cry, oi?"

Pushing their way through the throng of drunken customers and curious tavern girls, Allan led Marian to a private room he used as his office. "Now," he said, leaning his backside against a table, "whad Robin do to get himself locked up again?"

Her fear and frustration were obvious. "What he did doesn't matter! He's been falsely accused of raping a stupid girl, who also happens to be the wife of England's new Chancellor! And he won't let me help him out of the dungeon!"

"Rape? Not bein' funny, but that's the last thing Robin would ever do. Most of the time, he's gotta fight the women off him! You're the only one I know, who ever turned him down!" When Marian shot him a hurt and angry look, he hastened to explain, "Not that he ever went after any other ladies, since I've known him!"

"Not even Isabella?" Marian couldn't help asking, in spite of her urgency to rescue Robin.

"Our illustrious queen?" Allan smirked, since King John had divorced his first wife, the wealthy Isabella of Gloucester, keeping her money for himself of course, and had married Isabella of Gisbourne. "Yeah, well, Robin didn't turn her down, who would? I sure didn't, when the opportunity presented itself, but she went after him first, like stink on sh*t. Sorry."

Returning to the matter at hand, Allan continued, "But you say he won't let you free him? What? You already make a rescue attempt?"

"With Maggie's help, yes. But he refused to leave, the fool!"

"My Maggie?"

Marian was thinking, "Everyone's Maggie," though she wouldn't say so, knowing Allan held Maggie's heart, even if her body was for sale to almost anyone who could pay the price, which was surprisingly cheap. "We don't have time for this!" she cried out instead. "Are you going to help me?"

"What do you want me to do? Look, Marian, if Robin wouldn't follow you and Maggie outta the dungeon, do you really think he'll follow me? Or John? Or Much? Not bein' funny, but-"

"So you're not going to help me?" she asked, in disbelief.

"Look, Robin knows what's best. He always does. If he wouldn't leave the dungeon, he's got his reasons. When have you ever known him not to have a plan, oi, Marian? Come on, can't you just hear him sayin', 'Trust me' ?"

Only half convinced, Marian glared at Allan and demanded, "Have you ever been clapped in irons? I have, twice, and I'm telling you, it hurts!"

"I've been tortured," he coldly reminded her.

Knowing they had reached an impasse, yet refusing to give up and do nothing, Marian gave him a terse "goodnight" and left the Trip, to disobey Matilda's orders and find her horse to seek other help. But before she could swing herself into her saddle, she watched in amazement, as the royal coach rolled into Nottingham.

King John, having learned Robin of Locksley was locked within Nottingham's dungeons, had travelled with all haste to enjoy the wondrous miracle, bringing with him his bride, Queen Isabella, formerly of Gisbourne.