• Robin stepped to the line, rolled his shoulders back and closed his eyes as he took a deep breath. He blocked out everything, the sounds of hundreds of people cheering, the sight of the Prince sitting on his Father’s throne, the beautiful Maid Marian by his side. But he mustn’t think of her now. His only focus was the target in front of him, and the longbow in his hands.
    Robin pulled his large, dark hood farther over his face. He couldn’t let anyone recognized his face… or any other of his features for that matter. Opening his eyes, he looked at the target, 30 yards away. He reached behind him into his quiver and drew out an arrow. Robin nocked the arrow and stood there, focusing on the target, and stroking the fletching. Slowly, he raised his massive bow, and took his stance. He gripped the string with fingers of his right hand. He pulled the string back till his fingers touched the corner of his mouth. He aimed, took a deep breath, and released the arrow. The crowd was silent for just a short moment, until they gasped, holding their breath in anticipation. For before the fast flying arrow had even made it to the target, Robin had sent another on its way, right behind the first.
    The arrows found their mark. The first was perfectly positioned in the exact center of the target. The second came and hit precisely the same spot, splitting the first arrow in two. The crowd went wild, rising to their feet, shouting and applauding. Robin turned to face the Royal Pavilion and swept down into a deep bow. Rising slowly, he met Marian’s eyes, bright with excitement. He smiled then shifted his attention the Prince, who was scowling menacingly at him. The Prince obviously was seeing through Robin’s disguise now. He smirked, and pulled his hood lower over his face. How he loved being a nuisance.
    The crowd began to quiet down and return to their seats. The Sheriff of Nottingham was coming forward to the front of the arena to announce the winner.
    “Quiet everyone, quiet!” the Sheriff shouted, raising his large arms above his head, motioning for silence and calling for attention. “We will now announce the winner.” The crowd cheered. “Contestants, please come forward.” Robin moved along with the other archers into a line facing the crowd and the royal pavilion. Maid Marian stood and walked down from the pavilion and came to stand next to the Sheriff.
    “The winner,” the Sheriff began, “Of Nottingham’s Annual Archery Contest,” he walked down the line of archers, Marian at his side. He stopped in front of Robin and leaned slightly forward to whisper to him, “What’s your name again, lad?”
    “Peter,” Robin said quickly, pulling on his hood. “Son of John.” With that, the Sheriff turned around, grabbed Robin’s wrist and threw his arm in the air shouting, “The winner is Peter, John’s son!” The crowd roared with excitement and enthusiasm. Robin bowed once more, his large smile returning, barely visible beneath the shadow of his hood.
    “Eh-hem” Robin heard, coming from his left. He righted himself quickly, and turned to face the owner of the voice.
    “Don’t you want your prize?” they continued. It was Marian. Robin’s face softened into a pleased, loving smile. It had been so long since he had seen Marian’s beautiful long brown hair, her stunning green eyes and heard her lovely voice.
    “Marian,” He breathed. She took a step toward him, holding out her hand. He took it, and she led him back towards the pavilion. They waited at the foot of the stars, and as the Prince stood, they bowed. The Prince came forward and stood on the last step. Robin noticed he had a strange look on his face, but he couldn’t tell what it meant.
    “Rise Peter, John’s son, and accept your prize.” Robin rose, and took the gleaming golden arrow the Prince was handing to him. He raised it above his head in triumph, for all to see. The crowd cheered again. He turned back to the Prince, whose expression hadn’t changed. Robin bowed again saying, “The most sincere thanks, your Majesty.” He smirked, and then turned to face Marian.
    “I do believe there were two parts to my prize, weren’t there?” He said, his soft smile returning. He watched her as her face lit up, her most beautiful smile coming to her lips and she took another step closer and began to lean forward, closing her green eyes.
    But suddenly, Robin was forced back by strong hands on his shoulders. More hands took his arms and forced them behind his back. They tied his hands and then his head was forced backwards, knocking his hood down. The crowd gasped as they saw what the Prince knew he’d see and what Robin had been trying to hide- a large white scar on his face, going from the corner of his eye to his jaw.
    Robin struggled against his captors, but could not get free. The Prince came forward till he stood directly in front of Robin.
    “Peter, John’s son, eh?” he sneered. “I’ve never heard a bigger lie in my life.”
    “It’s Peter, son of John actually.” Robin replied smartly.
    “Robin Hood at last,” the Prince continued, ignoring Robin’s comment. “You’ve no idea how long I’ve waited to finally see you captured.”
    “Oh, you’re too kind your majesty.”
    “Argh! Take him away!”
    The guards were dragging the struggling Robin away, when riders burst out of the near by forest, charging full speed toward the Pavilion. While they were distracted by the scene, Robin elbowed a guard in the ribs and swung his head back into the nose of the guard behind him. He kicked and fought as well as he could with his hands tied behind him.
    “Robin!” a man’s voice yelled. He turned and a smile broke on his face.
    “Little John! At last! I was beginning to think you’d forgotten me!”
    “Forget you, Robin?” John said while cutting Robin’s hands free. “Who could forget about you?” Robin clapped him on the shoulder and took the sword he handed him.
    More and more guards were arriving to challenge the new arrivals. Robin fought his way to the pavilion, cutting and slashing, blocking swords from every direction. He came upon the Pavilion and found a quivering Prince, coiled up in his throne. Marian stood watching from a few feet away.
    “Scared, your Majesty?” Robin said. The Prince roared, as he saw who was standing before him and picked up his sword. He swung at Robin, who easily deflected it. He swung again, clumsily, completely missing and giving Robin a chance to cut cleanly through the Prince’s belt, causing his trousers to fall to the ground.
    The Prince scrambled to retrieve his fallen pants. Robin simply bowed mockingly and moved towards Marian.
    “Come milady,” he said, reaching his hand toward her. She smiled and ran to him. He took her hand and they ran from the pavilion. A rider-less horse stood nearby. Robin swept Marian off her feet and put her delicately onto the horse, then climbed up behind her.
    “Merry Men!” Robin shouted as loud as he could. “To me!” His men, his friends, ended their fights, climbed back to their horses and rode after Robin into the Forest.
    Little John caught up to Robin in the lead. He said, “You can never stay out of trouble, can you, Robin?”
    “Where’s the fun in that?” Robin said with a wink. “That’s why you’re around John, to come get me out of it! Besides, what are friends for?” John simply rolled his eyes and continued riding, a small smile spreading on his face.
    “Go on with them, John.” Robin said after they had ridden a safe distance. “We’ll catch up with you.” John nodded and took the lead as Robin slowed his horse and pulled out of the way. He dismounted and turned to help Marian down.
    “I believe you owe me something.” He said quietly in her ear.
    “Oh? What might that be?”
    “The rest of my prize, of course.” He said, smiling. She smiled back as he took her in his strong arms and kissed her softly.