Chapter Text
1 May 1188, Huntingdon, England
"The Earl seems distracted," Robin said to his friend Robert de Ros. Everyone was eating outside for May Day.
"There has been speculation that he is going to marry Matilda of Chester soon."
"Or it could be he doesn't like that I'm friends with Prince Richard."
"Better Richard than John!"
David was Scottish, but he held the English lands of Huntingdon, and Robin was his yeomen because his father Duncan was the bastard son of King David I of Scotland, meaning both Robin and David the earl had a common grandfather. "Fitzooth" was the Norman-French "fitz" combined with the Gaelic word "úd," meaning "son of yonder," changing the 'd' into a 'th' because his father thought it sounded better. Twenty-two years ago, while Duncan was in his birthplace of Cumbria (a place considered to be "yonder"), he had an out-of-wedlock child with a lady from Embleton, who was Robin's mother. Such a thing was not scandalous to the Scots, but it is to the English, which was why Robin was sent away to Huntingdon, and he barely got to see her while she was alive. Later, he spent time with Prince Richard in France.
It was Robin who was distracted when he saw his friend Marian approach them. Marion her father were shepherds from Lenton in Nottingham, and they have traveled south to Huntingdon to sell wool.
"Say Robin, you know how you say archery contests are boring because they're too easy for you?"
"What about it?"
He was both concerned and attracted to her mischievous grin.
"How about you shoot an arrow throw and wagon wheel hole?"
"That would be interesting to try, but we don't have anything to hold the wagon wheel high enough."
"Me and Much will do it!" Robert said. "And I'll talk to Earl David to make the winner the Mayday king."
"In that case I will do it and make you my Mayday Queen," Robin said to Marian.
Marian blushed.
"I will kick you in the leg if you make me the center of attention like that!"
"It will be worth it."
22 Aug. 1188, Lenton Priory, Nottinghamshire
Unlike other priories in England, Lenton Priory was French, and because of current anti-foreign sentiment most people in the village did not come here, but Alfred FitzWalter's grandfather was a French shepherd who came to England to work for the monks, so his family still came here. The family legend was that their house was made with the broken stones and leftover bricks from its construction at the beginning of the century.
On the second anniversary of Duncan Fitzooth's death, he came to the chapel to light a candle and pray for his friend's soul, and for the protection of his daughter Marian and Duncan's son Robin.
Before he was disgraced for sleeping with a lady outside of marriage, Duncan was a spy for King Henry, who sent him to Paris to keep an eye on the middle Plantagent son, Geoffrey Duke of Brittany. Unfortunatley, both the duke and Duncan died that year.
Decades before, Duncan and Alfred betrayed William of Blois, who was the son of King Stephen and Count of Boulogne. Alfred saw Duncan's death as the outcome of the blood curse William placed upon them, which means it's likely he will be the next victim.
The solitude was interrupted.
"You were warned, Alfred of Lenton, that vengeance would come, even if it was beyond the grave."
Alfred gasped at the ghost he was seeing.
"No! You are dead! William of Blois died almost thirty years ago, I saw it!"
"William of Blois is dead....for the time being, until I claim the throne that was unjustly taken from me."
"Kill me if you must have vengeance, but do no harm my daughter, let the blood curse only apply to me and Duncan."
"No. Duncan also begged mercy for his child, and I will tell you what I told him: Even the Lord, our God, has decreed that the sins of the fathers shall be visited upon their sons and daughters."
"NO!" Alfred tried to fight William, but he was eventually stabbed in the chest.
Guy was waiting outside the chapel when the doors opened, and the Baron of Argentan emerged with blood on his tunic.
"Gisborne, take Robin's dagger and plunge it into the man in there where I stabbed him."
"Yes, my lord."
Argentan said the goal was to put John on the throne, but Guy didn't understand how killing a shepherd would make that happen.
He knew better than to question his superiors.
25 Aug. 1188, Sherwood Forest, Nottinghamshire
Robin woke up with pain around his neck.
"Are you awake Robin?" he heard Much say. "You're lucky to be in Sherwood Forest instead of Heaven."
That's right, his last memory was of being hanged despite his innocence.
While he was in southern France, he learned the culture of courtly love, which went together with the veneration of St. Mary. He prayed to her for mercy, and on the gallows he loudly swore on her name that he was innocent. Before his death, he prayed that if he was unworthy of mercy, then Marian should receive it.
Robin tried to speak, but it was too painful. He needed to rescue her from Argentan and Gisborne!
"You were rescued by a group who calls themselves the Merry Men. They should call themselves the Wild Men since they live in the forest. Their leader Little John owed me for grinding his wheat at a third the old price plus a favor when my father raised the cost."
Robin raised an eyebrow.
"I did not ask how a man who lived in the forest acquired wheat," Much said.
26 Aug. 1188, Sherwood Forest, Nottinghamshire
"That was a good show beating Little John in a fight," one of the outlaws said to Robin while they were setting up camp.
"Why is he called Little John when he is so big?" Robin's throat did not hurt as much as it did yesterday.
"Irony."
"That's unusual."
"We're all unusual here, which makes you the odd one out. The reason I became an outlaw was because I was kicked out by my father for wearing my sisters' dresses."
What he said was so unexpected that Robin laughed.
"You laugh, but I would look prettier than you."
"I'll take your word for it. My father and I did not get along either."
"My father thinks it's from the bad blood of my infamous grandmother, who had been the mistress of the Earl of Cornwall. My father is William Brewer, Forester of Bere and Sheriff of Devon, and the family name comes from how our household makes the best ale. Instead of Will Brewer, I now go by Will Scarlet, because of the fine wool cloth I wear from when I was the son of a lord, and I love a woman named Joan de Redvers."
"I thought it would be because you wear red dresses in particular."
Will laughed.
"Alas, I have not been able to wear dresses as much as I like. In case you haven't noticed, the Merry Men wear Lincoln green."
"I promise I will get you a red dress."