"No, no, no!" King John whined, pointing an arrow at Robin and Marian. "I thought you two were supposed to be in love! Lock lips, Locksley's, lock lips! And I want to see plenty of tongue. You might as well enjoy yourselves, before you die."

"Die?" Much cried out, aghast. "You can't kill my friends! That would be...would be..."

"Murder," Marian finished for him, her eyes flashing.

"No one needs to die here today," Robin boldly announced, drawing an arrow from his quiver and nocking it to his bow in one beautifully fluid movement. "You've had your fun, King John. You've even stolen my wife's earrings, and I don't give her jewelery often enough for you to do that. Now, since I won my freedom with my bow, I think it's time I escorted my wife home. Goodnight."

"Not so fast, Locksley!" the king objected. "Robin Hood, otherwise known as ME, hasn't shot my bow yet! Lock lips! Lock lips, I say!"

Much anxiously shifted his weight back and forth on his feet, but Marian could tell that Robin had a plan, or at least, half a plan.

"Shoot if you must," her handsome husband agreed, to everyone's amazement, "but do it blindfolded."

"Shoot them NOW!" Queen Isabella shrieked.

King John held up a hand, mulling Locksley's suggestion over in his mind.

"Blindfolded, of course!" he cried at last. "Robin Hood wouldn't simply shoot, not when he could astound the crowd by such an amazing trick! Yes! Where's that blindfold you were wearing, Locksley?"

"Here," Much offered nervously, having picked it up off the floor when Robin had torn it from his eyes. Hurrying forward, he placed it over the king's eyes, then tied it in a knot.

"My king," Isabella protested, "don't fall for his wicked tricks! The moment you cannot see, he'll take his goodie goodie wife by the hand, and disappear! You know he will!"

King John, blindfolded, merely laughed, then pointed an arrow toward his wife's voice, and loosed it. Isabella screamed, ducking out of its path.

"Who did I hit?" the king asked eagerly, delighted by this new game.

A regal, commanding voice from the top of the staircase silenced everyone in the Great Hall.

"It's 'whom,' John," Queen Eleanor of Aquitaine corrected, appearing before the crowd like the goddess Athena descending Mt. Olympus. King John whipped off his blindfold.

"Your father and I clearly wasted the country's treasury on tutors," the Queen Mother complained, "if you cannot even speak correctly. It is called 'The King's English,' after all. But what is this nonsense? Change your clothing, at once! You make a sorry, pathetic Robin Hood."

Descending the stairs in her grand manner, she stopped before a kneeling, delighted Robin of Locksley, and his beautiful wife.

"Robin of Locksley," Eleanor of Aquitaine partially scolded, partially admired. "It's a good thing I prove timely, unlike you, Robin. In trouble again, I see."

"Trouble has a way of finding me, Your Majesty," Robin admitted, his face alight with a boyish grin.

"So you would have us believe." Turning to Marian, she pursued, "And how do you like being pulled into trouble, my dear Lady Locksley?"

"It's exciting," Marian truthfully answered.

"Well, it appears to agree with you. You're positively glowing. As well as expecting again, if I'm not mistaken."

When Marian nodded, the Queen Mother slyly added, "It would appear all aspects of your life with Robin are exciting, then, aren't they?"

Scowling at Isabella, Eleanor asked disapprovingly, "And just what are you got up to represent? The Whore of Babylon?"

"I'm dressed as the Nightwatchman," Isabella shot snippily back.

Queen Eleanor peered out from under arched eyebrows. "The Night Something," she declared, distastefully.

"Mumsie," King John whined, stomping his feet, "stop spoiling all my fun! I'm playing Robin Hood, and these are my merry men!"

The actors he'd assembled stepped forward at his command, bowing before the Queen Mother.

"Stop being a fool, John," his mother ordered, wearily. "That skin stained boy isn't half as pretty as Djaq, nor is that one anywhere near Will Scarlett. And as for your noisy clown, he can't touch Allan a Dale's originality."

"But what about Little John?" the king laughed, reaching for the huge sausage hanging off the front of the large actor's trousers and pointing it at his mother. "Look familiar, Mumsie?"

In spite of herself, Queen Eleanor's eyes glittered. "I detect a small resemblance," she jested naughtily. "And in comparison to the real Little John, I do mean small. But enough! I doubt very much anyone but you is enjoying your charade. Now that I have arrived, I order everyone to dance a galliard! Music! That is your favorite, is it not, Lady Locksley?"

"It is, Your Majesty," Marian smiled, dimples appearing in her cheeks.

...

While happily dancing with her husband, Marian asked, "Robin, did you know the Queen Mother was due to arrive?"

"I hadn't a clue," Robin confessed. "But, like she said, her timing was perfect. What an entrance! How are you feeling, my love? Tired?"

"Not a bit! You just want to get out of dancing, admit it."

"I don't!"

"I wouldn't mind dancing all night, to celebrate your release."

"There are other ways to celebrate, you know."

Marian's dimples deepened, as she told him, "Mmmm. I can think of a few. Let's go home."

"Shameless wanton," Robin teased her, grinning.

They continued dancing a few more rounds, neither noticing anyone but one another, even though the king's eyes burned lustfully for Marian, while Isabella's gaze followed Robin like a cat ready to pounce and devour a mouse. Annora Fitzhugh's eyes also stalked every move of Robin's, though far more wistfully.

As soon as it was polite to depart, Robin ordered his carriage, paid his respects to the Queen Mother, and made ready to escort Marian home to Locksley.

His heart grew as warm as toast, when Marian dropped off to sleep in their carriage, her head on his shoulder. And though his body was worn out, his mind was already formulating a plan to steal back her earrings.