by N B Dixon
For an instant, it wasn’t Richard, but Robin’s father speaking. Lord Locksley had once dangled Marian and Huntingdon in front of him as if he were offering a small child a tasty treat.
“You will marry her,” Richard repeated, “or you will watch your friends die.”
The blood turned to ice in Robin’s veins. His hands clenched into fists at his sides.
“You can’t do that. They fought for you. They are loyal, good people.”
“And outlaws. By definition, they do not even exist, therefore, any services they have rendered me are null and void.”
Robin opened his mouth, but no words came out. He was caught. The lives of his friends depended on him. He could refuse to marry Marian and watch them die. He could marry her, and they would live. It was the right thing to do, of course, if there really was a child, but how could Richard put him in such a position? Anger left him incapable of speaking. If he’d had his sword, he would have flown at Richard there and then, but the guards had confiscated all his weapons before allowing him in to see the king.
Richard’s face softened a little. “I have watched you more carefully than you know, Locksley. I was intrigued by you from the first day we met at Nottingham Castle during my brother’s first ill-advised rebellion. I followed your rise in my army with interest. I am well aware that you harbour a close bond with that squire of yours. Will Scathelock, is it?”
There was a tinge of sadness in Richard’s voice. “Marriage is all about appearances. Take Lady Marian as your wife and have this man Scathelock as your lover for all I care. As long as the world sees you are Earl of Huntingdon, it will satisfy them. Do not cross me in this. If you do, I shall make you watch as your men are killed in front of you, and I will begin with Scathelock. Obey me, and they will be pardoned. Locksley village shall be rebuilt. Is marriage such a hard price to pay for their happiness?”
Maybe not for you. Everyone knows your wife sleeps alone every night. But Robin did not let the words pass his lips.
Despair gripped him. They were his family, all of them. He would not hesitate to give his life for any one of them. He could not watch them die, not when it was in his power to prevent it. The thought of Will was like a knife in his heart. Their dream of a life together in defiance of Church and society was ashes. Robin took a deep breath, and gave his answer.
***
Will wasn’t sure how much time had passed. Daylight slinked in through the high window of the cell, making him think that only a few hours must have gone by. He wondered what was happening to Robin. He was not imprisoned down here with them. Where was he? What were they doing to him?
“We should bloody well have gone back to Sherwood as Robin said,” John muttered.
“Do not give up hope yet,” Tuck said. “The fact that Robin was not imprisoned with us is a good sign.”
“Or,” Alan said, “the king has decided to pardon him on account of him being a noble.”
“Then he can speak for us,” Much declared.
“Robin doesn’t have the power to overturn the king’s decision,” Alan said.
One of the warders came towards their cell, brandishing a bunch of keys. He inserted one into the lock and, with a creaking of rusted hinges, the door opened.
“Out, all of you. You’re free to go.”
Will exchanged bewildered glances with the others.
“Go on, get you gone,” the warder snapped. “Before the king changes his mind.”
They emerged, blinking, into the outer bailey. There, they found Robin waiting for them. The first thing Will noticed was his clothing. Robin was not wearing the Lincoln green he had arrived in. In fact, he was more finely dressed than Will had ever seen him. His tunic was embroidered at hem and sleeves, and the mantle he wore was the finest quality wool. It was pinned at his left shoulder with a jewelled brooch. He fixed the warder with a stony look.
“You have done your duty, now leave them to me.”
The warder walked off, muttering something about snooty nobles under his breath.
“What the…” John began.
“Not here,” Robin said curtly.
Up close, Will thought he looked pale. He indicated the saddled horses that stood waiting for them.
Up through the streets of Nottingham they rode. Robin set a brisk pace, allowing no room for conversation. Only when they were finally clear of the town, did he reign his mount to a halt. Will and the others did likewise.
“Robin, what the hell is going on?” John said.
“The king has pardoned you all.”
It took Will a moment to realise what Robin had said. There was no smile on his face, no joy in his voice.
Grins spread over the faces of the others.
“Are you sure?” Alan asked.
“You are free to rebuild your homes and return to your ordinary lives. The stigma of outlawry has been lifted in recognition of your service to the king.”
Alan and Much slapped each other on the back. John let out a whoop. Tuck clutched his rosary and breathed a prayer of thanks. Only Will remained motionless, staring at Robin.
“What’s the catch?”
“What do you mean?” Much said. “You heard Robin. We’re free.”
A terrible suspicion took hold of Will. Surely Robin hadn’t agreed to give himself up to the king. Was that the price demanded? Robin had been their leader, after all. Did Richard intend to make an example of him?
“I am pardoned also,” Robin said. He still spoke in that same calm, matter-of-fact voice, but Will knew him well enough to know he was concealing some deep emotion.
“In fact,” Robin went on, “I am the new Earl of Huntingdon. The king has made it official. I have also been granted Locksley, Gisborne, Hathersage and Blidworth.”
“How?” Alan asked. “Surely to be earl, you would have to wed the Lady Marian.”
And then Will knew. The truth hit him like a sword to the gut. He stared at Robin, willing him to contradict Alan, but Robin simply inclined his head.
“Lady Marian and I were wed this afternoon.”
They all stared at him. Their faces mirrored Will’s surprise and horror.
Then, Tuck spurred his horse forward. “Come on,” he called. John was quick to follow him. Alan and Much exchanged anxious glances and did the same. Robin and Will were alone.
Robin dismounted and Will followed suit.
“What have you done?” Will bit off each word. His voice shook with fury.
“The only thing I could do.”
“You married her?” Will’s hands were balled into fists. He had never before wanted to strike Robin, but now, it took everything he had not to fly at him, to punch him in his lying face. Everything they’d said, the intimacy they’d shared, it had meant nothing—at least not to Robin.
“So, you couldn’t go through with it, eh? When it came down to it, you cared more about what your king and your precious nobles would think of you. Or perhaps you thought you could have me as your whore, is that it?”
Robin matched his anger. “Richard would have killed you. I won’t sit back and watch you die, especially when I can stop it.”
The words brought Will up short.
“That’s what he said? He’d kill us if you didn’t marry her? Why, for God’s sake?”
“Marian is with child. Richard could hardly marry her off to anybody else. Either I took her as my wife and all of you would be forgiven, or I would be forced to watch as he killed all of you in front of me, starting with you.”
The anger went out of Will, leaving desolation behind it. Now it was King Richard he longed to strike, to hurt, to kill. He had put Robin in a terrible position, and of course, Robin had done the only thing he could. Will would not have expected anything else of him.
Will seized Robin, yanking him close and crushing their mouths together. There was no tenderness, only desperation. He expected resistance, but Robin kissed him back just as fiercely. Will grazed Robin’s lower lip with his teeth. He gro
aned and pressed Will even closer. Then, he broke the kiss. He pushed Will from him. Will stood there, his arms empty, feeling utterly alone.
Robin’s expression was momentarily unguarded. His eyes were full of pain, but there was resolve there, too. He would do what he thought was right, even if it meant destroying both their happiness.
Will stretched out a hand towards him. “Don’t do this.”
“It’s already done. I love you, Will. I always did. I’m sorry it took me so damn long to realise it.”
Robin turned from him and remounted his horse. Will stood there, watching until long after the sound of hoofbeats had faded.
***
Marian sat on the edge of the huge bed where generations of her family had been conceived and born. Her fingers smoothed the pleats of the long white shift she wore, a repetitive gesture she seemed unable to stop. Behind her, Ursula ran the comb through her loosened hair. Marian’s eyes kept straying to the bedroom door as her anticipation mounted. She was waiting for Robin.
Earlier, they had exchanged their marriage vows in front of the king, but the true bonding would come now. Robin had been solemn during the brief ceremony, and had hurried away soon afterwards. He hadn’t told Marian where he was going, but he’d returned before she could really start to miss him. They had journeyed together to Huntingdon Castle.
Marian could not prevent a smile of satisfaction from breaking across her face. She had achieved her goal. Robin had the lands and title he deserved. The stigma of outlawry was lifted. In time, once he got used to his new status, he would be grateful to her. Her father would be proud, also. She had secured Huntingdon’s future. There was just one problem left to resolve.
Distant sounds of revelry drifted up to Marian from the great hall below. She hoped Robin was sufficiently occupied that he would stay away just a little longer.
“That will do, Ursula. Come and sit down. There is something I have to tell you.”
Ursula laid aside the comb and sat cross-legged on the floor at Marian’s feet.
“What is it, My Lady?”
“I shall need your help. I must have a miscarriage.”
Ursula’s face blanched, and Marian hastened to correct herself. “I mean I must pretend to have one.”
Ursula’s face spoke her confusion. Finally she stammered, “But why would you want to hurt the baby?”
Marian took a deep breath. Here it came, her big secret. The one weapon that had allowed her to marry the man of her choice instead of someone picked out for her. “There is no child. I lied to the king. I knew the only way he would let me marry Robin was if he believed I was carrying his baby. It was the only way Robin would agree. I had no choice. Someone has to protect Robin from himself. I love him enough to do that.”
“But what will you do when Robin discovers the truth?”
“That is where you come in. I must pretend to lose the baby. I must be ill in bed for a few days. Robin will just dismiss it as a cruel twist of fate. After all, we are married now. Robin need never know the truth.”
Ursula looked doubtful. “But what if he suspects?”
“Why should he? Childbearing and the risks associated with it are women’s concerns. No man will bother to investigate too closely. If you play your part, within a few days this will all be over and forgotten. Will you help me?”
There was a moment of silence. Marian held her breath. She could command Ursula’s obedience, but she desired her willing cooperation.
Finally, Ursula spoke. “Yes, My Lady. I will help you.”
***
Katrina stared at the extravagantly prepared dishes of food arrayed in front of her. Prince John, it seemed, was not going to allow his recent failure to mar his appetite.
“May I tempt you, Lady Katrina?” the knight opposite her enquired. He indicated a roast boar and several roasted chickens. “Your trencher is empty. Name your desire and I shall fulfil it for you.”
Katrina ignored him. He had been sniffing around her skirts ever since she had arrived at John’s court in Gloucester. As if she would be interested in someone like him: a knight with no land to his name. He was a sycophant, nothing more.
Katrina’s thoughts turned, as they did so often, to Robin of Locksley, her enemy. He had been a nobody, and now he was a peer of the realm, while her husband and brother lay mouldering in their graves, dead at his hands.
Pain twisted cruel fingers around her heart, clamping it like a vice. Where was justice in the world? Robin had taken from her everyone she had ever loved and had been rewarded with an earldom. True, she and Guy had never been close, but he was still her brother. The loss of Hugo was far harder to bear.
Had Robin known that Guy was his brother, too? Would it have made any difference if he had?
It had come as a shock to Katrina when, an hour after they had laid her mother to rest, Guy had taken her to one side and told her the truth. When Lady Amelia knew that she was dying, she had confessed all to her son: how, when she had conceived Lord Locksley’s child, they had decided to run away together. Lord Locksley had been prepared to abandon his barren wife. Perhaps to set her up in a convent. Then, she had turned out to be with child, and everything had changed. Lord Locksley had abandoned his illegitimate child in favour of his legitimate heir. Maybe if Lady Matilda had had a daughter, he might have acknowledged his son, but she had given him what he needed. Amelia had been forced to pass off her son as her husband’s.
Katrina herself was the daughter of Lady Amelia and her husband, Sir Benedict. She was a true Gisborne and no relation to Robin of Locksley, for which she was eternally grateful. Not that it would have made any difference. She would make him pay. She would see him dead at her feet if it was the last thing she did. But first, she would take from him everyone he held dear. Only when he had experienced the agony she endured, would she consider the score settled.
The thought brought a smile to her lips. She had powerful friends—friends who would help her. Prince John hated Robin of Locksley nearly as much as she did. She could use that to her advantage.
This thought pleased her. With her newfound cheerfulness came a sudden burst of appetite. Reaching for the nearest meat, she dug her eating knife into the soft flesh and imagined it was Robin of Locksley’s heart.
To Be Continued
Author’s Note
When I first began planning this series in 2013, I knew I had a difficult task ahead of me. How to get the balance right between being true to the legend and yet appeal to a modern audience? One of the first things I decided was to combine the characters of the Sheriff of Nottingham and Guy of Gisborne. Normally, they are two separate men, but as readers were already familiar with Gisborne from Heir of Locksley, I gave him the role of sheriff rather than invent a fresh villain.
No matter how much the story of Robin Hood has varied over the centuries, one thing that never changes is the love Robin has for his men, and the love they have for him. I will admit, that inspired me more than any other aspect of the legend. The idea of having a hero who also had a secret—a side to him he was unwilling to let people know about—grabbed my imagination. I introduced this theme in Heir of Locksley, but was able to explore it more thoroughly in Knight of Sherwood. I always intended the LGBT+ angle to be a developing theme, one that would keep the reader guessing until the very end—one of the reasons I chose to depict Robin as bisexual rather than gay. That way, I could explore his relationships with both men and women, and add a bit of complication to his love life (as if the man didn’t have enough to worry about).
The idea of a gay Robin Hood is not a new one. Professor Stephen Thomas Knight caused some controversy with his suggestion that the early Robin Hood tales carried a homosexual undertone. Incidentally, it is worth noting that both kings associated with the Robin Hood legend—Richard I and Edward II—were strongly believed to be homosexual.
There are no female heroines in the earliest Robin Hood tales. In the ballad describing Robin and Marian’s first meeting, she m
ore than holds her own, but it’s a very different story once she starts appearing in novels. To begin with, she merits no more than a paragraph or two; her romantic relationship with Robin is very chaste. It’s almost as though she is an afterthought to add a love interest, or perhaps to leave no doubt of Robin’s sexuality in readers’ minds. Take her away, and the story gets on just fine without her.
The affection between Robin and his men, however, is much more pronounced, and often physical. In Howard Pyle’s The Merry Adventures of Robin Hood, the men hug and kiss frequently.
Marian has, of course, acquired more of a place in Robin Hood literature as it has evolved, and even steals the show from him at times. I wanted to give her a role in this series, though not perhaps the role some might have expected. Far from being a helpless damsel in distress, as she is often portrayed, I wanted to portray her as a woman with a mind of her own, who will do anything to get what she wants, no matter who she has to stomp on in the process. She is not, perhaps, the most likeable of my characters, but she was definitely one of the most fun to write.
Finally, there was the man who would form Robin’s love interest. I had no shortage of candidates to choose from. The most obvious choice was Little John. He is generally regarded as Robin’s right-hand man. In Howard Pyle’s novel, Robin declares that he loves Little John better than anyone else in the world. But I have never liked to do the obvious thing. Will Scathelock has always interested me. His story is as varied as Robin’s, changing from tale to tale. Even his name has many variations. I’m afraid it simply boiled down to, I liked him better.
Robin’s escapades as an outlaw are the aspect of his story that most people are familiar with. Everyone knows how Little John beat Robin in a fight with quarterstaffs and sent him tumbling into a stream, and how Robin won the silver arrow by splitting his rival’s arrow in two. I didn’t simply want to retell these tales, as they wouldn’t make new reading for Robin Hood fans, but it was important to bring across the struggle Robin and his followers were engaged in.
Though this is a work of fiction, the historical events mentioned in the story are based on actual happenings. King Richard did lead an army to the Holy Land in an effort to reclaim Jerusalem from the Saracens. He was unsuccessful, in that the city still remained in Saracen hands by the time a peace treaty was negotiated, but some concessions were agreed on, including Christians being granted the right to make pilgrimages.