“I wanted to kill him,” he breathed against her mouth. “I wanted to cut his throat, cut out his heart, cut to pieces his tongue ... but how was I to know you would take a crutch to him?”
Marian laughed huskily. “Spine,” she said softly. “I think I have finally grown one.”
He kissed her again hard, then gently, then took her hand into his again and led her outside to the bailey, where Little John, Will Scarlet, Alan, Tuck, and Much waited with the mantle-draped horse.
Scarlet’s face was white and tense. “Are we dead men, then?”
“No,” Robin replied, “nor wolf’s-heads, either. While the Lionheart stays in England, we are safe from the sheriffs justice.”
“Safe?” Little John echoed. “I can go back to my sheep?”
Alan’s face was mournful. “I have no lute.”
“Buy another,” Robin said.
“I have no money, either.”
“Steal it,” Scarlet said, jubilant in forgiveness.
“Stealing’s a sin,” Tuck declared. “And we are past that, now. The king is home at last.”
“For a while,” Robin said in dry disgust, kicking aside a broken cobble. “Until he leaves for France to make war with Philip Augustus. Then it will all be the same again. Exactly the same.” He glanced around, mouth knotting up into a grim, unforgiving line. “Let us go elsewhere. I weary of Nottingham.”
Marian’s throat felt tight. Here at last was the future. “To Huntington?”
“No.” He was annoyed that she even asked it. “That is finished, Marian; whatever I become, it will not be the Earl of Huntington.” Irritation faded, replaced by the warm, private smile she had seen inside. “My hall has burned, Lady—may I share yours a while?”
Relief blossomed painfully, filling up her spirit. “Then Ravenskeep. All of you. And if you want to stay, there is work for each of you.”
“I’m a jongleur—” Alan began, and then a thoughtful look replaced his affrontedness. “It will take time to write my ballads.”
“D’ye have sheep?” Little John asked.
“I have sheep. And I have a manor that needs men.” She slanted a glance at Scarlet. “Even you.” She looked away quickly so as not to embarrass him, or herself, and smiled at Tuck. “The oratory is small, but there is room for a monk. Perhaps we might even build a chapel.” Lastly she looked at Much. “And I need you most,” she said. “Who else will see to the running of the manor?”
Much frowned fiercely. “Robin Hood.”
She looked across his head at Robin. “Robin Hood is no more.”
“Here,” Scarlet said. “What about the money? Doesn’t the king need it?”
Robin looked at Tuck’s horse, muffled in cloak and coin. His eyes were speculative.
No, Marian thought. He wouldn’t—
Robin glanced back at the keep, then looked again at the cloak-swathed saddle. “No,” he said lightly, “the king doesn’t need it—not as much as others do. We’ll give some of it back to the Jews, who raised most of it; and some of it to the people of Locksley, so they can rebuild the village; and the rest to poorer folk who need it much more than the king.”
Alan’s eyes narrowed. “That doesn’t sound like Richard Plantagenet.”
“No,” Marian said, sighing, “it sounds like Robin Hood.”
“Lionheart,” Much murmured.
Robin caught him under the arms and swung him up into the saddle, leaving him perched atop the mantle. “The Lionheart,” he said, “is a very busy man. There are still wars to be fought.” He looped up the reins and gave them to Much. “Ravenskeep,” he directed, “hard by Sherwood Forest.”
Alan laughed softly, slanting a bright glance at Marian as his eloquent voice rang out:
And I shall think my labor well
Bestowed to purpose good,
When it shall be said that I did tell
True tales of Robin Hood.
Robin swore. “I am not the man for that.”
Marian looked at Alan. In perfect accord they grinned at one another as, with grave deliberation, Robin Hood robbed the king for whom he had learned to steal.
Author’s Note
The reconstruction of popular myth carries with it the burden of preconception and expectation; no reader, touched in some fashion by the Robin Hood legend, can escape certain preferences in the manner of retelling.
Lady of the Forest is not a recounting of the classic story, because there is none; the ballads that introduced Robin Hood to English folklore (initially mentioned in 1377 via Piers Plowman) consistently contradict one another throughout the several centuries of their creation. This novel therefore is purely my own concoction, a fictional interpretation of imaginary events leading to the more familiar adventures depicted in novels, TV productions, and films.
Lady of the Forest is more properly a “prequel”—the story of how the Robin Hood legend was born. The major emphasis is on Marian’s contribution, but I also desired to create a logical underpinning to the otherwise unwieldy version of the disinherited earl’s son forming a band of outlaws. The social stratification of the times would not permit the admixture of such distinctly delineated social classes; the events in Lady of the Forest are my attempt to explain in believable fashion how such an unlikely admixture might occur.
Many scholars have investigated Robin Hood with an eye toward proving or disproving his existence. Evidence appears to support the theory that no single outlaw existed to fill the role we know, but that “Robin Hood” was a composite of several outlaws, including Adam Bell. Adding to the confusion are the conflicting opinions regarding the actual time frame; different versions of the ballads present Robin as active during the reigns of three separate kings: Richard I, Edward I, and Henry III. As entire books have been written on the subject, among them Professor J.C. Holt’s excellent Robin Hood, and Maurice Keen’s The Outlaws of Medieval England, I will not attempt here to outline proofs and theories, but urge readers to investigate on their own.
Authors who care deeply about historical accuracy are often faced with a dilemma: to relate documented facts in a cut-and-dried fashion that quite often harms a story’s dramatic potential, or to use history like a crazy quilt, stitching together the truthful patches with the fictional ones. I have employed the latter method.
Historians disagree with regard to Richard I’s apparent homosexuality. I adhere to the conventional opinion for the purposes of this story. Supposition aside, it must be noted that while Richard married Berengaria of Navarre solely to gain her father’s financial and military support for the Third Crusade, this sort of political alliance occurred frequently. That he sired no children also is no infallible indication of sexual preference—Richard was too busy crusading and making war to spend much time with his wife, though one might argue a king would acknowledge the distinct need for an heir.
Although the Lionheart as hero has indelibly stamped history with his charismatic presence, he too suffered documented bouts of the family temper tantrums. His facility for brutality and selfishness is evidenced by his execution of 2,600 captive Saracens following the Siege of Acre, and his apparent indifference to his English realm—during the ten years of his reign, Richard spent only four months in England. He died of gangrene in France in 1198 while besieging a castle erroneously reported to contain great treasure. For those interested in historical trivia, it should be noted that Richard’s quote regarding Prince John and “evil counselors” is a documented one, as was the note Philip sent to John upon Richard’s release.
Any linkage of Prince (or King) John to the Robin Hood legend conjures the term “evil.” While John indeed tried to steal his absent brother’s throne, kidnapped an affianced bride from a powerful baron (he later married her), and murdered his nephew, Arthur of Brittany, he was neither a stupid man nor a complete fool. As king he proved a far more able administrator than his brother, but had an unfailing knack for infuriating and alienating powerful barons. Americans in particular may lo
ok to this latter trait with approval; John’s actions led to a revolt of the barons, among them the Earls of Alnwick, Hereford, and Essex, who created and forced John to sign the Magna Carta in 1215, thereby laying the foundations for the U.S. Constitution.
One of the most difficult aspects of writing a historical novel is how to accurately portray female characters. Contemporary authors are often taken to task for imbuing medieval women with anachronistic independence of thought and feminist leanings. In Eleanor deLacey, a character entirely of my own invention, I tread close to the boundaries; nonetheless, there were women of “loose morals” even in 1194—I choose to believe an Eleanor might well have looked to sexual dalliance as a means of seeking freedom of choice in an age when women had very little.
Marian is a truer product of her times, shaped by the ordinary responsibilities and expectations of a medieval woman. That she was freed to become something more (or less, depending on point of view) is attributable to the destruction of her reputation. In losing that, she gained the freedom to love where and when she most desired to, and the strength to make her own way.
Although Marian’s small part in the ballads does not appear until the seventeenth century May-games, I hope I have done justice in bringing to life a woman who has, throughout distant and recent history, remained little more than a cipher.
I am indebted to a multiplicity of resource materials, foremost among them Holt’s Robin Hood and Keen’s The Outlaws of Medieval England; The Ballads of Robin Hood, circa sixteenth, fifteenth and sixteenth centuries, edited by Jim Lees; Elizabeth Hallam’s The Plantagenet Chronicles; W.L. Warren’s King John; and several books by Joseph and Frances Gies, including Women in the Middle Ages, Life in a Medieval Castle, and Life in a Medieval City.
J.R.
Tempe, Arizona
1992
Jennifer Roberson has long been known for her award-winning fantasy series, Chronicles of the Cheysuli and Sword Dancer. Her historical fiction includes the award-winning Lady of the Forest and her Scottish novel, Lady of the Glen. Along with Melanie Rawn and Kate Elliott, she is an author of The Golden Key, a finalist for the World Fantasy Award. Jennifer Roberson lives in Arizona, where, in addition to writing, she raises Cardigan Welsh Corgis.
Visit her on the web at cheysuli.com.
LADY OF SHERWOOD
Robert of Locksley, the handsome son of a respected earl, has long battled the tyranny of Prince John—a man as weak as he is cruel. That power has now shifted even more firmly into John’s hands, and Robert has no choice but to fight as an outlaw—as Robin Hood.
Lady Marian of Ravenskeep has fled into the depths of Sherwood Forest. There, amid wild woods, she will be transformed from lady to warrior—as Robin Hood’s partner in stealing John’s gold. But all who breathe know the penalty for such theft is hanging. As the sheriff’s army pursues them, Robin Hood and Marian face danger at every turn ... and discover a shared passion that will join their hearts forever.
A Kensington trade paperback and e-book on sale July 2013.
LADY OF THE GLEN
Bestselling author Jennifer Roberson captures readers’ hearts and
imagination in this haunting, lyrical tale of an era of savagery and
splendor, set against the heather-strewn hills of a divided Scotland....
From birth, Catriona Campbell and Alasdair Og MacDonald are enemies—for he is the second son of her clan’s most powerful foe. Yet from the moment they meet, they know they will lie in each other’s arms someday. But their love, for centuries forbidden, comes at the most dangerous of times, as they become pawns of war ... and of history.
A Kensington trade paperback and e-book on sale August 2013.
KENSINGTON BOOKS are published by
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Copyright © 1992 by Jennifer Roberson
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without the prior written consent of the Publisher, excepting brief quotes used in reviews.
Kensington and the K logo Reg. U.S. Pat. & TM Off.
ISBN: 978-0-7582-9218-6
ISBN-10: 0-7582-9218-X
ISBN-13: 978-0-7582-9221-6
ISBN-10: 0-7582-9221-X
First Kensington Electronic Edition: June 2003
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