Sir Guy eyed the trees that lined the road on either side as if he suspected these were about to attack him. Even if this was not exactly what he felt at that moment, it came very close. The incident that had left him stranded in Sherwood had occurred more than ten years ago, but he had never been able to forget what had befallen him at that time. The experience had turned out to be too profound to be pushed aside, and if he was not paying attention, the idea immediately crept into his head that the trees were capable of moving across the forest in the same way as the outlaws.

At that time, he had not had the chance to pay attention to the warning given by THE dream - or rather: he had convinced himself that he could not do so - otherwise he might have been able to avoid it. But if he was honest with himself - and he had resolved to truly do so - he had not done so prior to the incident with Brewer, too, and that had not been so long ago. As if he could not bring himself to change. He just had not wanted to make an effort and therefore had convinced himself that after all he could not influence his life. In fact, he had only acted like the idiot the Sheriff took him for. By which he had conceded that the other man was right. That was almost too much for Gisburne to want to contemplate. For that reason, too, he was not going to ignore the warning this time.

That was the reason for his presence here. He had left in the middle of the night and, hopefully, without attracting anyone's attention, although, of course, he could not be completely sure in this respect since he was loaded down with all his possessions. On the other hand, he had to admit that this had turned out not to be too difficult, for he did not own a lot. And the most valuable of his possessions - apart from his armor - was most likely his grandfather's sword, which he had never carried as he did not want to lose it. However, it was also possible that Fury would fetch more than the weapon, but even in his case, the knight did not value him for the sum he could get if he sold him.

Despite this, he had taken both with him, even though he had gone to Sherwood. Of course, he had not planned to come here by a direct route, so he had left Nottingham via the bridge, clearly visible to anyone who might also be on the road in the middle of the night. Later, he had returned to the north side of the Trent via the ford of the old Roman road, taking care not to attract attention. This was not as easy as it seemed, for he was not exactly used to being inconspicuous. He had gotten out of this habit many years ago. All he could do now was hope that he had been successful, for he had given up praying a long time ago.

The sun had risen in the meantime and the advantage darkness had provided him with was no longer available to him. Therefore, he had no choice but to follow this road northward - one of the narrower ones, not used by so many travelers - more or less in the open. At least he would now be able to face any person who was lying in wait for him, unless they caught him by surprise coming from behind. However, he was of the opinion that those he was after - if he wanted to call it that - would not cut him down from behind without any warning - except maybe one of them. But in that case he could only hope as well. Still, he thought it would be better to die in this place on this morning, due to being oblivious to anyone approaching him, than to stay in the castle and then be forced to do whatever the Sheriff ordered him to do.

Suddenly he snorted. Who was he trying to fool? Would anyone actually buy this nonsense? He had better refrain from trying to convince himself and focus on what he was here for.

"Hood!" he shouted at last, when he could stand the uncertainty no longer. That morning, he would prefer to face the outlaw sooner rather than later. "Hood," he shouted once more, "show yourself, damn you!"

Although he had wished to encounter the outlaw as soon as possible, he was startled when he heard a rustle out of the bushes and after that a man appeared on the road right in front of him. Once again, this had happened so quickly that he had trouble reining in his horse in time since, needless to say, he had no intention of riding the other man down on that day.

The knight was greatly relieved to discover that this man was not the maniac everyone called Scarlet. However, the one who was threatening him with an arrow was not Hood himself, but the Saracen who had joined the outlaws after de Belleme's first death. Gisburne was aware, however, that this man was the most dangerous of the whole bunch precisely for his ability to keep himself under control. With him, he could never hope he would blunder for giving in to his rage. The other one always knew exactly what he had to do, which made him an extremely nasty opponent.

On the other hand, the knight could assume that this man would kill him only if he gave him a reason for it. Of course, he had not intended to do so, therefore he kept his hands far away from his sword - but also from the cocked crossbow on his saddle - while he slid off his horse. The other would certainly not miss the fact that the knight thus gave up the only - though not very great - advantage he had had.

"I need to talk to Hood," he declared then, only to be forced to wait to find out what the other one chose to do.

To his immense relief, however, it did not take so long, for Robin Hood had obviously stayed in the direct vicinity of the Saracen. In any case, he let his voice already ring out, barely after Gisburne's words had been heard. "I'm here!" he announced confidently, and then he too emerged onto the road. However, he refrained from fitting an arrow to his bow. He even had refrained from drawing his bow. Apparently, he felt so secure here - beneath the trees of Sherwood - that even his infamous magic sword had stayed in its scabbard.

"What do you want, Gisburne?" he then demanded to know in his usual provocative manner. Under normal circumstances, the knight would protest vehemently at such a familiar form of address, but on this particular morning, he was not in the mood for that. He knew that this time he could not afford to be outraged.

"I need to talk to you," he replied in the same familiar manner.

"Why should I give in to your request?", Hood wanted to know in response.

Gisburne could not suppress a snort, as he would have made a bet on the fact that the other one would not want to engage in a conversation with him so quickly. But that was not a surprise, since he always behaved like that.

"Because I know you'll be interested in what I have to say. But this road is not the right place for a talk, for someone could catch us by surprise anytime while we're here." The knight had tried to underlay his words with a greater certainty than he actually felt.

Hood frowned for a brief moment, but then the grin he so often displayed when dealing with the Sheriff's steward came back to his face. "I guess you're embarrassed to be seen with us, Guy, aren't you?"

The knight could just suppress a sigh, for he did not intend to show the other man how uncomfortable he felt out here in the open. Nevertheless, he could not avoid to answer, although he should refrain from pointing out that this meeting was already against the law. "I would actually prefer that no one get to see me on this road, but it doesn't matter who that might be. It just has to do with the fact that I've gone to a lot of trouble to make sure no one would notice where I'm headed."

This time, the other man's frown did not vanish so quickly. The leader of the outlaws still had not regained his grin when he turned around and disappeared into the forest.

For a moment, the knight was unsure if he should simply follow the other one, but then the Saracen took the decision away from him by making it very clear that this was exactly what he was supposed to do. At least Gisburne had managed to get off the road, though.

It was not very long before the knight had the impression that he was already deep in Sherwood, although the road could not be very far behind. The forest had always had this effect on him and the events back then, when he had expected to be supported by Bertram de Nivelle, had intensified this impact even more. But he could endure that, after all, he had already weathered much worse.

At some point the three men arrived at a small clearing that to one side opened onto a brook, which in its further course ran over a grassy slope down into a small valley. Gisburne had known in advance that the road ran along the ridge of a hill, but he was not aware of how far down it would go, nor of the view he would be offered, and he could not deny to himself that it took his breath away for a brief moment. He could not help but first simply stood at the edge of the clearing and gazed out over the treetops at his feet. In the distance, he his gaze was lost in the mist that the sun had not yet been able to dispel, imparting a sense of peace and tranquility that he was not accustomed to. He struggled not to surrender to this sensation, but he had not forgotten why he had come out to here. Nevertheless, he allowed himself to savor the moment as he really enjoyed being here without needing to fight. Even if at the same time it seemed odd to him.

Hood cleared his throat behind the knight's back, snapping the latter out of his contemplations and making him turn around.

"This place seems more to your liking," the other then ventured to remark.

"At least it doesn't make me feel like I'm being watched," Gisburne replied, only to then add. "Except by certain outlaws."

The corners of Robin Hood's mouth twitched slightly, but then he assured him that there would be no one here but Nasir and him.

The knight glanced around, but he could see no sign of the Saracen. Not that he was expecting this, after all, he had gained enough experience about how difficult it was to spot Hood's gang in the forest.

"Have a seat," the outlaw urged the knight, pointing to a toppled tree trunk. Gisburne eyed this seat briefly, but then shrugged his shoulders and settled down. Not on the log, but on the ground in front of it, for after all, it was not as if he were too above doing something like that. First and foremost, he was a soldier and had had to make do with the forest floor more than once, and not just for the sake of sitting. He had also not forgotten that he had survived quite a few difficult situations while in Normandy.

Hood sat down opposite him - at a sufficient distance - simply putting his bow and quiver on the ground next to him and placing his sword above his thighs, still in its scabbard. The knight, on the other hand, had chosen to leave his weapon hanging from the saddle, but this had to do with the fact that he did not expect it to be of any use to him, even if he were to hold the bare blade in hand. He could only hope that this encounter would not take a turn for the worse, yet he experienced something like uncertainty - he would not call it fear - for he had made up his mind to radically change his attitude. Provided that the outlaw did not thwart him.

"What do you reckon I might be interested in?", Hood finally initiated the conversation, apparently having realized that the knight had no intention of getting things started.

Gisburne took a deep breath, for all at once he was overcome with doubts as to whether his idea was really so good, but then he made up his mind. It was not as if he had a choice at this point.

"It's about the Earl of Huntingdon." He could not refer to the man as Hood's father; after all, the latter had disowned his son. But he was also not sure if the other man would allow such familiarity. He preferred not to take any chances in this situation.

"Well?" The leader of the outlaws had not managed to keep the tension out of his voice.

For a moment, Gisburne did not know how to tell the other one what he knew. But then he realized that it would be best to start with the conversation that he had overheard, since everything that followed from it was, strictly speaking, only conjecture.

"Two days ago, I overheard a conversation. Between the King and the Sheriff. Our sovereign spoke of how much the Earl's remonstrances are annoying him. And he also stated that it would be ... good if he didn't have to deal with him anymore." The knight paused, wanting to give Hood a chance to speak.

The latter had not been able to remain seated and was now moving to and fro in front of the knight, restlessly, unable to suppress an astonished exclamation. "What? And then?"

Gisburne had to admit to him that he had not heard anything more. "However, when we got back to Nottingham, de Rainault spoke of the need to do something to regain the King's favor. In doing so, he clearly included me."

"So, you don't know anything concrete!" Something like relief was evident in the voice of the outlaw.

"No," the knight conceded. "But I also had no intention of waiting for the Sheriff to explicitly order me to assassinate the Earl. I don't believe I would have had a chance to get out of it if that had happened."

"I'm sure the Sheriff wouldn't dare," Hood countered.

Gisburne snorted. "You're underestimating de Rainault. If he has a good plan, he'll dare to do anything, especially since he hopes to regain his standing with the King. Besides, after all, he has a scapegoat in case something goes wrong. He has always made sure to have one at hand," he pointed out to the other one, without specifically letting him know who this scapegoat was. Hood could figure as much on his own. "Until today, at least," he then added.

"That still doesn't convince me," Hood replied to him. "For what reason are you so sure that my fa ... that the Earl is to be murdered. Why do you believe that's the only thing that makes sense when all you've heard is the King complaining, which is nothing new. He's certainly had a go at everyone, hasn't he? And as for the Sheriff, his words could also refer to something else. So why should I believe you? Why shouldn't I assume that this is a trap?"

Gisburne shook his head, but he could understand the other man's doubts. For this reason, he had racked his brains beforehand about how he could explain the whole matter to the outlaw without appearing suspicious. Or - what would be even worse - insane. Nevertheless - or maybe due to that - he had not planned to tell the other one about what had tipped the scales for his decision, for would he believe him that it had been a dream?

But now he had to remind himself that there had always been talk about Loxley having dreams. Not the ordinary ones that everyone had, but ones in which he had been shown things that he could not have otherwise learned. Perhaps the reason Gisburne had never really wanted to believe this was due to his attempts to forget his own dream. But if it was true that Herne's First Son had had this kind of dream, how probable was it that it would be true of this one? And if it were true, would he believe him when he admitted he was haunted by a specific dream? Could he take the risk of exposing himself in such a manner to the outlaw?

What finally made the difference was the knowledge that he had nothing left to lose. Besides, he had already decided to change his attitude in a decisive way. Therefore, he had now no choice but to carry on.

Gisburne shook his head once again, as if that would help him get rid of his doubts. But he already knew that he had made up his mind about an answer.

"I had a dream ..." he uttered hesitantly.

"A dream?" repeated Hood the words. "So, you dreamed that the Sheriff had given you the order to do the killing."

The knight could only shake his head, realizing that it was much more difficult to talk about this matter than he had assumed. This was mainly caused by the fact that so far he had never talked to anyone about his dream, except for his mother.

"Then you dreamed about the King having a talk with the Sheriff?"

"No." The knight's voice sounded hoarse. "The dream has nothing to do with the Earl. But every time it haunts me, afterwards something happens in my life. It's always something drastic, usually something bad, something that causes me harm. Assassinating an Earl fits in perfectly, as being ordered to murder an outlaw in his sleep, a man who had previously been pardoned by the King, was also among the incidents."

The knight was apparently unaware that he had just put Loxley and the Earl on the same level, but it was not lost on Hood. He stared at the other man with his eyes wide open, but did not give the impression that he wanted to laugh at his words. On the contrary, he seemed to take him quite seriously, even though he had obviously not expected such an explanation. When the knight caught the outlaw's reaction, he was not sure for a moment whether he should be relieved that he was not doubted or upset that it was this outlaw, of all people, who did it. Why could this not be one of the people who were important to him?

And then, all of a sudden, he asked himself if he could be wrong.

Gisburne glanced around unobtrusively, but he realized soon that he was unable to figure out where he was. The leader of the outlaws had led him deeper into the forest after he had recovered from the surprise the knight's words had given him. He had to hand it to Hood, it had not really taken him that long.

On the one hand, the knight was quite relieved to be here right now, as he could not imagine being tracked down by the Sheriff. On the other hand, he was sure that he would not be able to find his way out of this forest on his own, which did not exactly make him happy. He had not yet decided which of these he considered more important, after all, in both cases his life was at stake.

Robin Hood had kept a close eye on him while they were on their way to this spot, but now he no longer seemed to find it necessary to bother further about him not vanishing. The knight experienced something like outrage, since the other one obviously did not perceive him as a threat, but he had to admit - to himself - that the outlaw had good reason to act in that way, since he could expect to have no problems tracking down the knight, should he come up with the absurd idea to make a run for it. But he should at least expect to be attacked by Gisburne. The knight had no intention of doing so, but the other man had no way of knowing that, and that's why the Norman was outraged, for it gave him the impression that Hood did not take him seriously. The knight had never been able to stand that.

Except for Hood, he had not seen any of the other outlaws, not even the Saracen, who he knew had been nearby, at least at the outset. He assumed that in this respect nothing had changed, especially since the leader of the outlaws had disappeared every now and then between the trees, where Gisburne could no longer spot him. On those occasions he had probably given instructions to the Saracen - or to some other of his men. By contrast, he had not spoken to the knight at all, but had only directed him where to go. In this manner, they covered a considerable distance in the forest.

But now they had stopped and had been in the same place for quite a while. Although Hood had left him alone for a considerable time, the knight did not make the mistake of assuming that he was indeed alone. For sure one of the other outlaws had an eye on him, so he definitely did not want to let on how uncertain he felt. Of course, he was not scared - and if he had been, he would not even admit that to himself - but insecurity was also something he did not want anyone to notice. But at any rate, it was there, for after all, he did not know where he was, nor if he would ever get out of here, nor if he could survive the entire affair. But most of all, he was not sure how his life would proceed once this was over - and he would still be alive.

"Tell me about your dream!", Hood prompted him suddenly.

Gisburne could not avoid flinching when the outlaw's voice rang out unexpectedly right next to him. Apparently, he had been so deep in thought about what his future might hold that he had neglected to keep an eye on his surroundings. Something like this was simply not allowed to happen to him.

But then he realized that this made no difference. The outlaws were capable of killing him whether he was alert or not. And it was more than unlikely that anyone else would be able to locate him in this place. Someone who was a threat to him. Still, he was annoyed by his inattention.

"Tell me ..." the other one tried again, as the knight had remained silent, but at that moment Gisburne interrupted him.

"I heard you, Hood," he replied gruffly.

"Well?"

"I don't know in what way it would help you in the current situation if you knew about that."

Hood sighed and Gisburne opened his lips to respond appropriately as he had taken the outlaw's reaction as if the other considered him an idiot, but this time it was he who was interrupted.

"I should have expressed myself better," Hood apologized, quite surprisingly, and with these words forestalled an immediate response from the knight, for the latter had not expected anything like this. The outlaw, however, already went on. "It would help me to assess how serious the threat to the Earl is."

Gisburne shook his head. "It wouldn't. At most, it would show you how seriously I take the threat the Earl faces. And it wouldn't be the first time I've been wrong." Had he actually said that out loud now? Was it this forest that made him behave so ... differently? Or was it Hood?

"You told me that this dream would always haunt you before something profound happened. And these ... incidents would not only affect you, but others as well. For that reason, I would like to know about your dream."

The knight gazed thoughtfully at the other one. Was he really ready to talk about the dream with someone, especially when he was aware that this someone was a person he had been fiercely fighting for the last few years. It could also be said that Hood was his nemesis.

But it was not long before he arrived at the realization that he no longer saw the other man as a nemesis, even though he could still remember very clearly that he had wanted the man dead. He could also recall how much he had hated him. But there was no more of that now. He could not tell when that had changed. He had no idea if this had taken place prior to Grimstone, or if his experiences with Gulnar had brought about these alterations. But was that even important at this moment?

Gisburne pulled himself together. He had already taken a huge step when he decided he needed to make a radical change in his life. That was why he had come to Sherwood. If he were to decide not to continue with this, he would have given up his previous life without being able to get anything else in return, and that would be pretty pointless.

"I am in a battle. I don't know who I'm fighting, though, nor exactly where I am. It's a forest, it's foggy and I can't see much. I am not alone, other soldiers are with me, fighting alongside me. I am exhausted, for I have been fighting all day. Suddenly there are others and a fight breaks out. One man attacks me, but neither of us can overpower the other. Suddenly I manage to stab him, but at that moment I realize that it's my father. The shock of this realization then always wakes me up."

Hood had listened intently to this terse summary, and had obviously given it some thought. "You always refer to yourself as a soldier, Guy. So, it's not odd for you to dream of battle."

Gisburne almost started shouting, but he just managed to pull himself together after realizing that the other man only knew about the dream itself, but nothing else. No wonder, he drew the wrong conclusions.

"I was six the first time I had that dream," he admitted, albeit reluctantly, considering it to be something quite personal.

The outlaw frowned. "And has the dream changed over the years?" he wanted to know next.

"Changed?" the knight inquired, reflecting on it for a moment. "No, not that I noticed."

"That is, in your dream you have always been an adult?"

The knight pondered again for a moment, for he had never given this any thought. Then he had to nod.

Hood now gazed at him with an odd expression on his face, a combination of astonishment and compassion. "You're right, Guy," he then proceeded, "this is no ordinary dream. And you have no idea what it might signify?"

The knight was not inclined to talk at that moment, so he just shook his head.

"Would you like to know what has been haunting you all these years?" he was asked quite abruptly thereafter.

"How is that supposed to be possible?", the knight approached his opposite angrily. Without having really wanted to, he had raised his voice, for the other man had touched on a point that troubled him greatly. But with these words he had also given the impression that he was blaming him for never having thought about this before. But nothing could be further from the truth. Of course, he would like to know what the dream signified, but he had never been able to figure out a manner to do so.

"There is a way," the other replied, not paying any attention to the knight's reaction.

"Your tone tells me I won't like it." The way the outlaw had expressed the words caused the knight to make this assumption.

"Herne," was the short answer, and Gisburne realized that he indeed did not like it. But he also realized right away that Hood was right. And suddenly there was hope for the knight that there might be someone who could actually help him. Surely, that should not be too hard for a woodland deity. Or should it?

It escaped the knight that he had never before conceived of Herne in this manner.