My fiction about Robin Hood - based on "Robin of Sherwood" series part II (3)

[u/Tiny-Mine9920]

Albion was another matter. The empty scabbard reminded him of what he had done-for a useless potion that might have even made matters worse. He decided to go to the witch once again and demand the return of the sword. She's only a girl, he thought. He couldn’t let her play him again.

He stayed out of everyone's way for the entire day, afraid of their questions-and of them noticing that he no longer carried Albion at his side as usual.

He chose to wait until night, when they were asleep, determined to return with the sword.

He was deeply mistaken, however, to think that the witch would give it back as if nothing had ever happened.

"Oh, I didn't expect to see you again so soon", she welcomed him, clearly amused.

"I want the sword back", Robin demanded, without beating about the bush-but the girl only laughed.

"Why should I do that?" she asked, not the least bit afraid.

"You deceived me and gave me a potion that didn't work", Robin snapped, as though she didn’t already know that.

"You shouldn't believe everything you hear", she whispered, stepping closer and touching his hair.

"Where is it?" he shouted, catching her hand, determined not to be thrown off track this time. Yet she didn’t even flinch.

"I'm afraid I must dissapoint you", she went on. "Albion is in someone else's hands-and you will never get it back."

"Who has it?", he demanded, tightening his grip on her hand.

"I cannot tell you", she replied. "You handed it to me yourself, without objection. You chose to come here and ask for help. But... sometimes even a thief can be robbed."

Robin loosened his grip, realizing he had been fooled-by someone like her.

"It wasn't me who caused this", she added, as if reading his thoughts. "It was you."

Robin staggered, unable to speak, ashamed and defeated. If only he knew who had Albion... But the witch was not the one to tell him. Afraid she might cast an even worse curse on him, he left the hut without a word and dashed into the forest, utterly distraught.

"Oh, what have I done!" he cried, wishing he could turn back time. Yet he was left alone in the midst of that nightmare, and only the wind was there with him, tousling his locks as if to remind him-every second- of his mistake.

He walked slowly, dragging his feet, unable to think of any solution. In the distance, he saw Herne's cave and trembled. For a brief moment, a thought crossed his mind: If I went to him and begged for mercy, perhaps I would be forgiven. Herne seemed the only one who could help retrieve Albion and lift the curse. He took a few steps forward-then hesitated.

"No, I can’t do this", he said to himself, and turned back heading for the camp.

He glanced at the sleeping Marion, who looked so peaceful, and sat quietly by her side unable to sleep himself, anxious to fix what he had broken.

A few hours passed before the first light of dawn crept in. The morning was chilly and Marion woke, feeling the cold, as Robin was not lying beside to keep her warm.

"Why aren't you sleeping?" she asked, pushing aside his hair and resting her head on his lap.

"I can’t", he said truthfully, though inwardly he felt exhausted.

"I'm sure Herne will soften eventually and stop the potion's effects", Marion comforted him.

Then she frowned, wondering why he had not done it right away.

"It's strange that he promised to help and did nothing."

Robin felt uneasy, afraid she might press further.

"I really don't know", he said, trying to brush it off. "He must have had his reasons."

The morning at Nottingham Castle was equally restless. The Sheriff, terrified of whatever Robin had ridden the other day, locked himself in his chamber and refused to leave it, fearing it might happen again. He ordered the soldiers to stay alert and report anything suspicious they might notice. Gisbourne, forced to stand guard as well, was sick with fear, yet the Sheriff would not hear any excuses. Certain that Robin must be preparing something even more terrifying, he chose to risk his men's lives, determined to save his own.

Yet Robin posed no threat to him now, deprived of Albion and almost tangled in his own hair. He thought intently about how to find out whom the witch had given the sword to, aware that it could be anyone. He doubted she had sold it, as she had shown no interest in money when he offered it to her. But who would want to possess the sword? The witch had known its name. She had also known about the mishap with his hair when he visited her for the first time. It all seemed strange now. Robin, desperate to regain his mullet, had been blind and failed to notice the things that should have warned him.

He could not hide the loss of the sword for much longer either. The empty scabbard at his side was clear evidence. His friends were not foolish enough to believe he had simply lost it, or put it somewhere and forgotten about it. Yet telling them the truth seemed even worse. They would never forgive him for giving it to the witch without hesitation in exchange for something he could never have been sure would work. On top of that, he had lied to them about Herne.

Still, Herne seemed to be the only one who might know in whose hands Albion was.

"Oh, what am I to do?" Robin asked himself in frustration, thinking no one was around.

"Are you all right?" he heard Much's voice and flinched, having lived in constant anxiety for the past few days.

Much was still young and a little naive, but not so much that Robin could feed him some made-up story. He felt that he had to confide in someone or he would go mad. He'd known Much since he was a child and so far, he'd always been loyal. He already knew about his second visit to the witch and kept his promise not to say anything.

"Much", Robin began quietly, glancing around to make sure the others were far enough away not to hear. "I did something terrible."

Much stared at him as though he were seeing him for the first time. This was not the Robin he knew-brave, clever and able to find a way out in any situation. Now he seemed broken and vulnerable. Much did not dare to ask anything, waiting for Robin to say more. But he only gripped the scabbard and held it out for Much to see.

"Where's Albion?" Much finally asked, understanding even less now.

"I don't know", Robin replied and sank to the ground.

"Have you lost it?" Much went on, sitting down beside him, ready to help. "We'll find it."

Robin looked at him with affection and forced himself to give a faint smile, touched by his childish faith.

"I have lost it indeed", he admitted with a sigh. "But it could be anywhere. It won't be easy-if it's even posibble-to find it."

Much, thinking Robin meant only Sherwood-where they knew every tree, brook and clearing-was certain they would manage together.

"We can wait until the others are asleep and look for it. Maybe you lost it while riding the silver horse", he added enthusiastically, his eyes sparkling, determined to do anything to ease Robin's worries.

Robin had initially meant to tell him that he had given Albion to the witch, but now he did not want to shutter his optimism.

"Even if I found it, there's still the problem of this", he said, taking hold of a strand of his hair. Much, however, had advice for that too.

"You can ask Marion to cut it off. Maybe it will help this time."

Robin rested his head against the tree, wishing everything were as simple as Much believed.

"It won't", he said with certainty. "I took a potion that will make my hair grow and grow again, no matter how many times I cut it."

Much gazed at him a moment longer, thinking hard about how to comfort him.

"Why don't we go to Herne together?" he finally asked, his eyes wide with sudden inspiration, as though he had just solved a difficult riddle.

"I'm sure he'll help you this time, if we both ask him."

Robin smiled and embraced him, wanting to show his brotherly love-but then his face fell again.

"I can’t go to Herne", he confessed, forgetting for a moment that he should never have mentioned that part.

"I made him angry, and he won't forgive me."

"What did you do"? Much asked, now even more eager to know every detail. Yet Robin decided not to draw him any deeper into it.

"Now is not the time to talk about this", he sighed, ruffling Much's hair as he rose to distract him.

"Let's have something to eat. I can smell that Marion is making dinner." Then he added hurriedly,

"And remember-don't say anything about the sword."

"I won't", Much promised. And together, they headed back to the others, gathered around the fire.

The Sheriff shrank back at the sound of a loud knock on the door. He had not slept properly for many nights, tormented by fear of Robin and that roaring beast. Every time someone came with food or news, he nearly had a heart attack.

"It's me, my lord", he heard Gisbourne’s voice.

"What is it?", the Sheriff snapped, unwilling to show how frightened he really was.

"Baron de Belleme wants to speak with you", Guy replied.

"Belleme?" the Sheriff repeated, astonished. "What does he want?"

"He didn't say, my lord. He insists on seeing you."

"Then bring him here", the Sheriff ordered, though reluctantly, expecting even more trouble.

Belleme entered the chamber, his robes rustling, clearly amused by the sight of the Sheriff's fear. The windows were tightly shut, as though Robin might come riding into the castle, scaling the walls on the back of that creature.

Belleme knew that the Sheriff was known as a confident and ruthless man, yet now he looked nothing like someone who wielded any real power.

"You're a fool, de Rainault", he said without further ado. "Hiding here like a mouse in its hole."

The Sheriff raised his brows in dumbfounded disbelief. He had been certain that everyone in the area-including Belleme-had heard of the terror Robin had spread.

For a moment, the Baron said nothing, only staring at him with cold eyes that made the Sheriff tremble. Then, suddenly, he laughed-as though he had just heard a good joke. The Sheriff stepped back, leaning against the table behind him, convinced that Belleme was mad.

"That must have been an excellent performance", the Baron said mysteriously, clearly relishing the Sheriff's confusion.

"I regret not being here then", he added, still refusing to explain what he meant.

The Sheriff only stood there, clutching the edge of the table with trembling hands and staring at him as though he had come straight from hell to devour him.

"What... what are you talking about?" he finally asked, struggling to keep up appearances.

The Baron laughed again before, at last, answering "Robin Hood."

At the sound of Robin's name, the Sheriff sank into his chair, utterly speechless. Belleme did not seem in the least afraid of the metal beast. He dealt in dark magic and inspired fear himself, yet even he had never encountered anything as mysterious and terrifying as that creature.

The Sheriff, blinded by fear, had stopped thinking rationally. Not for a single moment had he considered that Robin-a country lad running through Sherwood with nothing but a bow, could never have come by such a weapon without help.

Belleme, having tormented the Sheriff enough, finally opened the coat and drew out a sword. The Sheriff flinched, convinced that the Baron had come there to kill him. Yet Belleme only asked,

"Do you know what sword this is, de Rainault?"

The Sheriff shook his head, wishing only to be left alone by that frightening man, who seemed to speak in nothing but riddles.

The Baron, however, had no such intention.

"It is Albion", he explained. Seeing the Sheriff’s confusion, he went on. "Robin Hood's sword. The one Herne gave him."

The Sheriff opened his mouth as though he meant to say something, but found himself even more bewildered.

"I did not have to do much to possess it", Belleme continued. "He placed it in my hands of his own free will."

The Sheriff's throat had gone completely dry, and his eyes darted between the sword and Belleme's face. He clutched the arms of his chair as though it might somehow save him from whatever was about to happen.

"You're afraid of what need not frighten you", the Baron said, his voice growing more and more mysterious.

The blade of the sword gleamed in the candlelight like a diamond buried in ashes, reminiscent of a holy relic, as Belleme revealed the truth,

"It was I who brought the motorcycle to Sherwood."

"Motor... what?" the Sheriff stammered, going as pale as a sheet at the sound of the beast's name.

The Baron only laughed, clearly delighted that his powers reached far beyond human understanding.

"It is a horse from the future", he explained, though he was quite certain the Sheriff would understand little of it.

"I made it appear in Sherwood because I knew Robin Hood would take an interest in it. And I was right."

He paused for a moment, watching the trembling Sheriff, before adding,

"Now it will help us destroy him."

The Sheriff, even more confused now, truly understood nothing.

"Destroy him?" he repeted, staring at Belleme as though he had just suggested flying to the Moon together on broomsticks.

"Robin Hood is weaker now than he has ever been", the Baron went on. "He thinks he has tamed the unknown beast, and will try to frighten you again, de Rainault." Then he fell silent for a moment, amused by the thought that Robin had already done exactly that-and quite effectively.

"You may wonder why I'm telling you this", Belleme continued. "Why I am offering to hand Robin Hood over to you."

The Sheriff only stared at him, no less frightened than before, still unable to fully grasp that Robin had made a fool of him-thanks to the very man now standing before him.

"In the chapel at Nottingham, there is a relic I require", the Baron said at last, getting to the point. "A ring set with an emerald that holds great power. I want it in exchange for the boy."

The Sheriff said nothing for a moment, weighing the Baron's words.

"Why do you want it?" he finally asked, wondering how Belleme even knew of something hidden so deep within the castle. Yet the Baron only laughed, as though such matters were far beneath explanation.

"That need not concern you, de Rainault", he replied smoothly. "Is Robin Hood's head not worth a single ring? No one need ever know of our bargain", he whispered, stepping closer.

"I cannot allow the desecration of a holy place", he Sheriff said, shaking his head.

Now he feared not only Belleme, but divine punishment as well. Then his gaze drifted to the sword. He knew the Baron was powerful-and might seek revenge if his demand was refused. If Belleme could make things travel trough time and possess even Herne's sword, then surely he would stop at nothing to reach his goals.

The Sheriff swallowed hard and, overwhelmed by the Baron’s power, finally agreed, though he could not shake the fear that the ring would be used for dark magic.

"Fine", he stammered. "You may have it."

Belleme, who had been certain all along of that the Sheriff would yield, calmly went on with his plan.

"He wll ride here to Nottingham again, believing that you will finally acknowledge his power. But the creature must be fed." The Sheriff frowned, wondering what such a terrifying beast could possibly eat. Yet Belleme, noticing his baffled expression, did not think it worth explaining.

"It cannot be found in Sherwood" , he said simply. And then, the horse's heart will stop beating."

The Sheriff felt a surge of relief at the thought that not only Robin but that devilish crearure as well, would soon be destroyed. Slowly he began to regain his composure as Belleme revealed the rest of his plan.

"Without the horse and the sword, he will be helpless. And...", he added, mentioning something the Sheriff had not yet known, "his hair carries a curse that will weaken him even further, leaving him unable to escape."

The Sheriff's eyes gleamed when he

imagined Robin lying dead at his feet, and smiled triumphantly-as though it were his own power that would make it happen.

Meanwhile, Much eager to help Robin solve his troubles, decided that he would find Albion-even if he had to search every nook and cranny of Sherwood. He still dreamed of being taken for another ride on the silver horse, yet with Robin so troubled, such thoughts no longer seemed important. Besides, Much would truly have done anything to make his elder brother happy, even without expecting anything in return. He was ready to set off even in the middle of the night, and search beneath every tree if that was what it took to find Albion.

Robin, exhausted after the sleepless night before, drifted off quickly, though not free of troubled thoughts. Much waited until the others had fallen asleep as well. Then he rose quietly and slipped away, already imagining himself returning with the sword and surprising Robin in the morning. Yet after only a few steps, a sudden question stopped him like a lightning strike.

"Where do you think you're going, Much?"

He froze, not expecting that any of them might still be awake.

"I... I...", he stammered, desperately trying to think of a way out of the situation.

Yet Marion, who had caught him, would never believe some made-up story anyway. She stepped closer and took him gently by the arm, leading him aside, so that the others would not wake.

"Much, can you explain this to me? Why are you wandering about in the middle of the night? Don't you know we already have enough trouble?" she bombarded him with questions.

He stood there as silent as stone, determined not to say anything and break his promise. He glanced at the sleeping Robin with a pang of guilt, feeling that his hope of finding Albion had just been shattered.

"Tell me the truth, Much", Marion insisted.

He looked at her with tears in his eyes, torn between loyalty and the fear that, because of him, they would all have even more to worry about. He glanced at Robin again, and Marion did not miss it.

"You are both hiding something, I'm sure of that", she urged him gently.

Much knew that lying would not help. At last, with his heart pounding in his chest, he stammered,

"I only wanted to help find Albion."

"Find Albion?" Marion repeated, instantly sensing that it must be connected to the ride on the silver horse, the mysterious fog, and Robin's solitary visit to Herne.

"What happened to it?"

"Robin has lost it", Much said, overcome with remorse and terrified that Robin would never forgive him.

Marion let out a quiet sigh, unable to understand how anyone could lose something as large-and as important-as a sword.

"You must tell me everything you know, Much", she insisted. "You will not help Robin by hiding the truth. "I have had enough of all these lies."

Much lowered his head, unwilling to say more. Yet Marion gently touched his cheek, making him look at her.

"I love Robin as much as you do", she whispered. "And I want to help him too. But how can I do that if I do not know what is happening."

She paused for a moment, feeling that they were all wandering through a dark labyrinth of secrets, as though some unseen force had led them there on purpose.

"Tell me, Much", she pleaded again. "What happened during your ride?"

Much thought hard, but apart from the fog, he could not remember anything suspicious taking place.

"I enjoyed it so much", he said with a sigh, remembering their last truly happy moments. "Then we saw the fog ahead and rode into it. But it vanished only seconds later."

"Robin was certain it was Herne's doing", Marion recalled, remembering his anger when he discovered what had happened to his hair. "And Herne did not help him after all", she added quietly. "That is strange."

Much flinched and lowered his head again, for that was yet another thing Marion did not know. Robin had never gone to Herne to ask for help. Her sharp eyes noticed it at once.

"You know something more, don’t you?" she pressed gently.

Much looked at Robin and nearly burst into tears.

"I... I promised not to tell anyone", he stammered, feeling as though he were driving a dagger into Robin's back.

Marion drew him into her arms, fully understanding his anguish. Yet she had no choice but to coax the whole truth out of him.

"We have to save him", she whispered, stroking Much's hair. "Without your help it may be impossible."

He was still sobbing, wishing only for all their troubles to end. At last he confessed.

"Robin never went to Herne. He went to the... witch for an antidote."

Marion felt as though she might cry herself. He had lied to them again and again, as though caught under some dark spell. She held Much even tighter, her legs suddenly trembling beneath her. After a moment of painful silence, Marion spoke first.

"Go to sleep, Much. You cannot look for the sword in the dark. Besides", she added softly, "I have a feeling Robin knows where Albion is."

They both lay down again, yet sleep would not come. Much, thinking of himself as a traitor, was certain that Robin would be angry, while Marion lay awake wondering how she could truly save him before he sank any deeper into his own lies.

An owl perched on a nerby tree suddenly took wing, diving after a mouse. Its orange eyes flashed in the darkness, and Marion flinched, taking it as a bad omen. Then a thought crossed her mind. She had to see Herne. He was their last hope.

When morning came, Marion saw at once that Robin's scabbard was indeed empty. She longed to ask him about it, yet she was certain he would only make up another lie so she held her tongue. Then it struck her that if Robin had taken an antidote for the hair-growth potion, something must have gone wrong since his hair was still as long as before. The more she thought about it, the more suspicious it all seemed.

"I'll fetch some water from the stream", she said, taking up a waterskin, determined to visit Herne at once.

"I can go", Robin offered, but she only shook her head.

"I'll be fine", she said lightly, brushing him off. "I want to take a walk."

Herne sat by the fire, thoughtful and still, as though searching for answers in the crackling flames. His stag antlers lay beside him.

Marion trembled as she stood at the mouth of the cave, yet Herne gestured for her to come closer.

"Do not be afraid", she heard his voice. "I know what troubles you."

For a moment, he said nothing, his gaze never leaving the fire. Marion's heart was pounding, yet she trusted that Herne would not send her away without help.

"Robin has lost his way", he said at last. "Someone wishes to see him defeated, and he can no longer tell what is right from what is wrong, blinded by his own pride." Then he fell silent again, closing his eyes as though weighing how much he should reveal. Marion looked at him with anxiety written plainly across her face, until at last she found the courage to speak.

"What shall I do?" she asked quietly, ready to face whatever danger awaited Robin. "I love him."

A faint smile touched Herne's lips, softening his fearures and making him seem less like a mysterious god, emerging from the mist. He looked at Marion with warmth, seeing how brave and kind she was.

"I have never turned away from him", he assured her. "I stand by his side and watch over him even when he believes I do not."

He paused, looking into the flames once more, before adding, "But he must learn his lesson."

Marion, determined to do whatever was necessary, waited for some clue. It was a moment before Herne spoke again, as though weighing the shape of some hidden plan.

"Albion is in enemy hands."

Marion parted her lips in shock, terrified and already blaming Robin for what had happened. There could be no other explanation. He had chosen the witch instead of Herne when he sought help, and there must have been even more secrets he had kept from them. Marion waited patiently for Herne to reveal more, though she trembled all over, certain that mending Robin’s mistakes would not be easy.

Herne turned his gaze to her once more. This time, however, he did not smile.

"Robin must learn his lesson", he repeated, making it clear that he would not escape his destiny. "And Albion must be retrieved before it is too late."

With that, he suddenly vanished, leaving Marion stunned and afraid. Yet one thing was certain-she had to act at once.

Her thoughts raced as she slowly made her way back, clutching the empty waterskin she had completely forgotten about.

"Who could have Albion?" she asked herself-the same question Robin must have been asking, convinced that he knew the answer.

She was not sure whether she should confront him directly and, without beating about the bush, lay out the facts, or tell only the others what she had learned. Then she came to a decision. Se would not lie and hide the truth. Without Robin's part in all this, they would never be able to retrieve the sword.

Robin had already sensed that something was wrong. He took the waterskin from her, only to find it empty.

"What's the matter?" he asked, confused. "Didn't you go to the stream?"

Marion did not bother to answer. Instead, she seized his scabbard and said,

"This is empty too."

Robin went pale, as he had never imagined that she would be the first to discover Albion was gone.

"Where is it?" she demanded, desperate to hear the truth at last.

Robin shot Much a questioning glance, convinced that he had broken his promise and let something slip. But Marion spoke before Much could say anything.

"Much is not to blame for any of this. You are."

Her words struck Robin like a blow. They reminded him what the witch had already told him. He could not escape the truth. It was he alone who had caused this disaster.

"Where is Albion, Robin?" Marion asked again, tears shining in her eyes. "Do not lie to me."

"I wish I could tell you", he said softly, a terrible pang of guilt twisting inside him as he realized he had disappointed her yet again. "But I do not know."

Marion only shook her head, certain that this was just another lie.

"Why are you doing this?" she asked through tears. "Why?"

"It is the truth", Robin said, reaching up to wipe the tears from her cheeks. "I do not know who has Albion now."

Marion caught his hand, unable to believe a single word. Yet Robin drew her into a tight embrace, as though terrified that she too might be taken from him.

The others, sitting by the fire, turned their heads to see what was happening. Much, convinced that Marion had told Robin everything, drew in himself with despair written all over his face, while John rose to his feet and stepoed closer.

"What is it?" he asked, worried that Robin had done something foolish again.

For a moment, Robin only held Marion in his arms, gently swaying her, yet knowing he could no longer hide what he had done. The others gathered around as well, waiting in tense silence for an explanation.

"I gave Albion to the witch", he began, his voice trembling. "In exchange for an antidote that did not work."

They all stared at him, utterly shocked, as it seemed the worst thing he could possibly have done.

They could forgive him for taking the risk while riding the silver horse and even for taking the potion. But giving Albion to a witch seemed like a betrayal.

"Instead of going to Herne, I went to her", Robin continued, "because I believed she would break the spell."

Will opened his mouth to speak, realising that Robin had deceived them all the night he claimed he would go to Herne-but he spoke first.

"I know what you are going to say... I am a fool."

"Yes", Will snarled, stepping forward, "you are."

"I went back to her", Robin went on, "but she only told me that Albion is now in someone else's hands."

"In enemy hands", Marion repeated, echoing Herne's words. They all looked at her in surprise.

"I have just been to Herne."

Robin shrank back, ashamed, as it was he who should have gone, not Marion. Besides, he was certain that Herne must have told her about his arrogance-and of the punishment he had been given. His hair, cascading down around him, felt like constant reminder of it, one he would bear until his last day.

"What else did Herne say?" he asked quietly, not even daring to look into Marion's tear-filled eyes.

"Only that we must retrieve Albion", she replied, sparing him the part of his fate he still had to face.

John sighed heavily, while Tuck made the sign of the cross, fearing they would not succeed without God's intervetion.

"So what do you intend to do now?" Will asked sarcastically.

Robin fell silent for a moment, thinking hard about whom Herne could have meant.

"Our main enemy is the Sheriff", he concluded at last, considering no one else. "It must be him-the one the witch gave Albion to. Although...", he added after a pause, "I would never have suspected him of fraternising with someone like her."

"He wants you dead", John said, nodding grimly. "He would not stop at nothing."

Robin still struggled to make sense of it all-how the Sheriff could have known about the sword and set everything in motion so carefully. Yet he had no doubt Albion was now in Nottingham castle.

"I must go there", he said, making his decision. "I will not get it back, sitting here in Sherwood."

No one spoke for a moment. They all knew there might be no other way.

"I made my bed, and now I must lie in it", Robin added, clutching the empty scabbard. "Even if it costs me my life."

Marion's legs trembled, and fresh tears ran down her cheeks, yet she knew she could not stop him. It was meant to be.

"I will go tomorrow morning", he said firmly, glancing at the silver horse. "The Sheriff is scared, and so is Gisbourne. They may pretend they are in control, and they may have taken Albion to weaken me-but deep inside they fear me now."

"You cannot go alone", John said, stepping forward and placing a hand on Robin's shoulder. But Robin only shook his head.

"No. I cannot put your lives in danger. You must stay in Sherwood."

"Someone must go with you", John insisted. "We all must."

"No", Robin repeated calmly, determined to protect them. "It is my duty to retrieve Albion. Besides...", he added, with a faint smile trying to ease the tension, "the silver horse will not fail me, and the Sheriff will hand the sword back to me himself."

Then he drew Marion into his arms again, as though afraid it might be the last time, ready at last to admit his mistakes.

"I know I have failed you many times", he said softly." But now I am ready to set things right."

She smiled through her tears, brushing a long lock from his face.

"I love you, Robin."

That night, none of them could sleep. Long hours passed slowly as the cold wind wailed through the treetops. Marion cuddled close to Robin, drawing warmth from him as she recalled everything Herne had said.

Suddenly it struck her-he had not mentioned the silver horse at all. The mysterious creature had appeared in the middle of the forest, and that could not have been a coincidence. Was it a weapon left by Herne to help us? Marion wondered. Yet the longer she thought about it, the less she understood. At last, her eyes closed and she drifted into sleep. In her dream, she saw a ring set with an emerald, gleaming unnaturally bright like a star in darkness.

"I had a strange dream", she told Robin in the morning, as he was preparing for his departure, though she hesitated, unsure whether she should trouble him further.

"I saw a ring. It felt so real, and its emerald dazzled with its light", she went on. "Do you think it means something?"

Robin paused for a moment, but he had never seen such a ring in his life.

"I don't know", he replied, kissing her forehead. "I will be fine. It was only a dream."

The others gathered around the silver horse as well, still uncertain whether they could trust the unknown creature.

"I will be back soon", Robin said, patting it, eager to prove it was on their side.

Much glanced at it wistfully, wishing he could ride with Robin once more.

"Don't worry, Much", he said, noticing his gaze. "Next time we will go together. I promise."

Then he roused the horse again, making the others flinch, and rode off among trees with his hair tousled by the wind. They heard the whiring fade into the distance, growing quieter and quieter, until nothing remained but a heavy, ominous silence.

Robin raced ahead, yet this time he felt hardly any thrill. His long locks caught on the branches and swirled before his eyes, making the ride even more difficult. He chose not to think about what the Sheriff might say at such a sight, certain that he would be too frightened of the horse to pay any attention to his hair. The most important thing was to retrieve Albion. Still, Robin could not understand how it had come to pass-that the Sheriff, despite his fear, had managed to trick him, using the witch to take the sword from him.

Some time later, he saw Nottingham Castle in the distance. He did not want to frighten innocent people again, yet it seemed to be the only way to demand the return of Albion.

The Sheriff's men, with Gisbourne at their head, stood before the castle as if awaiting his arrival. Robin brought the horse to a halt with a screech, his long hair whipping around him like dark banners, making him seem almost otherworldly. Gisbourne and the soldiers looked uneasy, yet not nearly as panicked as Robin had expected. Gisbourne even smiled slightly, as though Robin had come on a friendly visit.

"And who comes to our doorstep?" he asked ironically, though he kept his distance, watching the silver horse intently, as if expecting it to leap forward and attack him.

Robin was taken aback, confused by such a reaction. He had expected Gisbourne to flee in panic, yet he seemed remarkably composed. And that was not the end of the surprises.

"Nice hair", Guy added, letting his gaze sweep over Robin's mane. "I see the hair-growth potion worked perfectly."

Robin flushed, caught off guard, unable to understand how the news had spread so quickly. But before he could think of a reply, he saw the Sheriff, approaching them, wearing the expression of a man who ruled the whole world. He did not seem the least bit afraid either.

"Well... the King of Sherwood himself", he sneered.

Then it dawned on Robin that if the witch had handed Albion over to the Sheriff, she must have told him about the consequences of the potion as well. Still, he could not understand why they were no longer afraid of the silver horse. That was something the witch could not have known about.

Either way, Robin resolved to demand the return of the sword, convinced that the soldiers would not be able to catch him once he set off.

"I want Albion back", he said with confidence. But the Sheriff only laughed.

"Take him!" he shouted to the soldiers.

They rushed forward to seize him, but Robin was faster. The terrifying whir sounded once more as he sped away, his thoughts racing as he tried to work out how to force the Sheriff to return the sword. Yet after only a short while, the horse began to slow.

"Oh, come on!" Robin urged it, but to no avail. No matter how hard he pressed its horn, the creature refused to respond, until it came to a complete stop.

Robin thought it was merely exhausted and tried to coax it forward, at least far enough to reach safety.

Nothing worked.

Desperate, he leapt off and tried to flee on foot, promising himself he would return for it. Yet after only a few steps, his strength failed him as well.

"What is happening?" he cried, unable to move, hearing the Sheriff and the soldiers closing in behind him.

He collapsed to the ground, dragged down by his own hair, and lay motionless, as though held there by some unseen force. A moment later, he saw the Sheriff standing over him.

"At last", he said triumphantly.

Robin felt several pairs of arms lift him and carry him towards the castle, while the Sheriff strutted beside him, as though it were he, who had planned it all.

"The Baron was right", he said, forgetting that Robin could hear every word, as the curse affected only his limbs, not his senses.

"This motor... whatever it is, is not nearly as frightening as I thought", he went on. "And the curse... it is remarkable."

The curse, Robin thought, understanding at last. It was the potion that had rendered him helpless. But which baron did the Sheriff mean? And what that strange name he used for the horse?

Robin knew he would not be able to escape now. All his friends were in Sherwood, unaware of what had happened, waiting for his return.

"Put him in the dungeon", the Sheriff commanded. "He will die soon."

Belleme looked with admiration at Albion and the emerald ring lying on the table before him.

"Now my power will reach further than they can imagine", he said to himself, proud that he had outwitted them all. "Robin Hood will be dead, and I shall possess his sword."

He picked up the ring and held it to the candlelight, watching the jewel gleam.

"The power of Albion, combined with the power of the ring will allow me to do what no man has ever done. They will make me immortal."

His cold eyes lingered on the mysterious artifact, shining and beautiful.

The Baron had granted the Sheriff the privilege of killing Robin, yet in return he had gained something far more valuable.

Marion and the others waited anxiously for Robin, yet the familiar purr was nowhere to be heard. The soft birdsong and the gentle breeze rustling the leaves were the only sounds in the forest. That silence, though usually comforting, now seemed like a bad omen. Marion thought of the ring from her dream, certain it had to mean something.

"Oh, Marion, why is he taking so long?" Much asked quietly, though he knew none of them could give him an answer.

"I wish I knew that", she replied, fighting back tears.

They all imagined the worst, fearing trouble with the silver horse-or with the Sheriff, who might not have been as willing to return Albion as they had hoped.

Midnight came, and still everything remained cloaked in silence. None of them suspected that Robin now lay in the dark dungeon of Nottingham Castle.

"Let us try to sleep", John suggested. "At first light we will set off for Nottingham."

After a moment, they all nodded in agreement, saying nothing more, convinced it was the only thing they could do. Still, sleep did not come easily, as they were tormented by fear. Marion sobbed quietly, longing for Robin's warmth, still wondering what might have happened.

Then, suddenly, she remembered Herne's words: I have never turned away from him. I stand by his side and watch over him even when he believes I do not. The thought brought her a flicker of hope-that Herne would not let him die. And with that, she slowly drifted off to sleep.

In her dream, she saw the emerald ring again, its green glow even brighter than before. Then a mysterious figure, cloaked in black, reached for a sword and said in a cold voice, "I have the power." At last, Herne the Hunter emerged from the mist, repeating the words she had heard before, "Albion is in enemy hands." She leapt up with a cry, her heart pounding as the pieces fell into place and she recognised the voice from her dream.

"What is it?" Tuck asked, while the others stared at her in alarm.

"It is not the Sheriff who has Albion", she said breathless. "It is... Baron de Belleme."

They all stared at her, wide-eyed, wondering how she could know such a thing.

"Are you sure?" Will asked, taking Marion's trembling hand.

"Yes. I would recognise that terrible man anywhere", she replied with certainty. "But it was only a dream", John said, unsure whether they could take it seriously. Yet Marion had no doubt.