Fanfiction

"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.

"I believe it was Herne who gave me a clue. Besides...", she added after a pause, "Belleme's cooperation with the witch is obvious. It must have been he, who ordered her to prepare the potion and take Albion from Robin."

The Merry Men exchanged glances, realising it all made sense now.

"The Sheriff would never have come up with such a plan", John nodded, seeing her point.

"There is also a ring", Marion went on. "This is the second time I have seen it. There must be some connection... though I do not understand it."

Will sighed heavily, convinced this was only the beginning of their troubles.

"So what shall we do now?" he asked. "And what is keeping Robin in Nottingham?"

That, however, remained unanswered.

As this was happening, the Sheriff was planning a spectacular execution for Robin.

"It will be a memorable event, Gisbourne. The famous outlaw will be killed here in Nottingham by my order", he boasted, completely forgetting Belleme's part in it. The curse in Robin's hair had now ceased to work, as it had served its purpose in helping to capture him. Yet there was no escape from the dungeon, even now that he could move again.

He thought of his friends in Sherwood, likely worried sick, and of Marion, whom he longed to see once more-if only for a moment.

"We must go to Nottingham anyway", Marion said firmly. "Even if the Sheriff does not have Albion, we still need to find out what has happened to Robin."

"You're right", John nodded. "It is clear he must have run into trouble."

They took up their bows and set off in silence, each lost in their own thoughts.

Nottingham buzzed with rumours. Everyone spoke of Robin Hood-how he had ridden into the town once more upon the strange beast-and of the execution that was soon to follow. Marion and the Merry Men blended into the crowd, making their way towards the place where it was to be held, with their hearts tightening at what they heard.

"How could the Sheriff have captured him?" Marion asked, tears in her eyes, unable to make sense of it.

"It is strange", Will agreed. "He managed to take him, despite his fear."

"We must save him" Much said, his voice breaking as he fought back tears himself, unable to bear a thought of Robin spending a lonely night in the cold dungeon.

"We will", John replied, trying to reassure him, though he himself was uncertain what they could truly do. It was impossible to enter the castle unseen by the guards, while attempting to free him just before the execution would cause chaos-and might prove far too risky. There seemed to be no good solution.

Meanwhile, people were gathering in the square, eager to see the famous outlaw who had finally been captured.

Marion and the others could not simply stand by and watch, and their minds raced in search of a plan. Yet there was not enough time to act without risking capture themselves. The Sheriff had arranged everything right away, eager to rid himself of Robin as soon as possible, celebrate his triumph and earn the king's praise. Marion did not want to think what might have happened had they remained in Sherwood, as Robin had asked them to do. Yet even now, when they were so close, all they could do was stand helplessly and watch.

More and more spectators flooded into the square, until at last they saw Robin being led forward by the guards, surprisingly calm. Marion longed to cry out and run to him, yet she could only watch in silent despair, utterly helpless. The Merry Men exchanged questioning glances, gripping the bows hidden beneath their cloaks, ready to fight-even if it meant dying alonside him.

The Sheriff sneered, prouder than ever, but Robin did not seem to care in the slightest.

"Let it be if it is meant to be", he whispered offering no resistance.

Then, suddenly a billow of mist enveloped everything around them, as though some unseen force had cast a spell. Through it, Robin saw Herne's face-and trembled.

Belleme held the sword, his fingers brushing along its gleaming blade, convinced he was now the most powerful man in the world.

"Thanks to you, no one will ever defeat me," he whispered, gazing at it with cold, possessive eyes.

Yet suddenly, he felt the energy flowing through it begin to fade. He tightened his grip, waiting for a response—but Albion no longer seemed to obey him. "Now!", Will called to the others, seizing the chance to act.

They drew their bows and began to shoot at the disoriented soldiers, though with difficulty, as the thick mist obscured their aim. People scattered in panic, unable to understand what was happening.

"What in God’s name is this?" the Sheriff shouted, furious, barely able to see.

Much and Marion ran towards Robin, who still stood there, dazed and unmoving.

"Come on-quickly", Marion cried, seizing his hand and pulling him away towards safety.

John, Will, Tuck and Nasir loosed a few more arrows before joining them, and together they dashed towards Sherwood. When they finally reached a place where they were safe, Marion threw her arms around Robin's neck.

"Oh, Robin", she whispered, overcome with relief. "I thought I had lost you."

"I am certain it was Herne who helped us", Robin said, his hand brushing the empty scabbard at his side. "Though...", he added with a quiet sigh, "I did not deserve it."

"It is Belleme who has Albion", Marion explained. "I saw it in my dream."

"Belleme", Robin repeated, the truth dawning on him. "He is the Baron the Sheriff spoke of."

"What did he say?" Will asked. "He said the Baron had been right, and...", Robin hesitated, trying to reall the word the Sheriff had used to describe the silver horse, "that the 'motor'-or whatever he called it-was not as frightening as he had thought."

"The motor?" Tuck repeated, making the sign of the cross, convinced it must be something truly evil.

"It seems that...", Robin paused, trying to piece it all together, "Belleme told the Sheriff about it-and about the curse in my hair as well."

They looked at him in shock as the truth began to come to light.

"He must have known about the horse somehow and revealed it to the Sheriff", Robin went on.

"And it must have been he who ordered the witch to prepare the potion and take Albion from you", Marion added, certain that only he was capable of such a thing.

"The curse made me unable to move", Robin said quietly, now seeing how foolish it had been to drink the potion.

"If it had not been for you-and for Herne", he added, regret heavy in his voice. "I would be dead now."

For a moment, they only looked at him in silence, also grateful that Herne still watched over them.

"I knew he would not let you die", Marion said, embracing him again as tears ran down her cheeks.

"But still, I must retrieve Albion", Robin sighed, aware that it would not be easy, for Belleme was a sorcerer.

"We will do it together", John assured him, placing a hand on his shoulder. "This time we will not let you act alone."

They all nodded in agreement, though Tuck hesitated, unsure whether it was wise to challenge someone who dealt in dark magic.

"Do you truly mean to enter Belleme's castle?" he asked, uneasy at the thought of setting foot in such a place.

"Yes", Robin replied firmly. "I owe Herne that." Tuck, seeing it could not be avoided, nodded at last.

"Then I am with you, brother."

They set off, certain that it would not be an easy battle. Robin's thoughts raced as he tried to understand all that had happened. The curse in his hair, the loss of Albion-those were things Belleme would have done. But could the silver horse have been his doing as well? Robin did not want to believe that such a beautiful and innocent creature could have been used by that man to trap him. Yet now he had to focus on facing Belleme and forcing him to return Albion.

The castle, as dark and gloomy as his master, made them all tremble, for they did not know what awaited them within. Tuck whispered prayers without ceasing, asking God for help, treading carefully as though the very floor of the castle were the gates of hell. Robin entered first and called out,

"I am here, Belleme!"

The Baron, startled-having believed Robin to be dead-stepped forward, gripping Albion in his hand.

"You cannot defeat me", he said, hiding the fact that the sword no longer obeyed him.

"It is even better that you still live", he added coldly. Now it will be I who kills you."

He raised his hand, about to drive Albion into Robin, when a sudden, blinding glare burst from the blade, filling the chamber with light. They all covered their eyes, terrified, thinking it was Belleme's magic-but then he cried out and fell to the ground, the sword slipping from his grasp. For a moment, they could only stare at him, not even daring to breathe.

"I still have the ring", he gasped, struggling to his feet as he forced it onto his finger.

Yet the instant it touched his skin, a dreadful scream tore through the dark halls.

Seconds later he lay dead.

Robin, dazed and trembling, reached out for Albion.

"It is over", he said quietly with relief.

Then he clasped the sword to his chest, as though he could scarcely believe he had truly regained it-and that Belleme would threaten them no more. They all stared at his lifeless body, wondering what had really happened, while the emerald still gleamed in the dark chamber.

"It is this ring!" Marion exclaimed suddenly, recognising it. "The one from my dream."

For a moment, they stood motionless, as though afraid of its power, until Tuck, studying it more closely, realised that he knew it as well.

"It is the holy relic from the chapel in Nottingham Castle", he explained, now understanding the cause of Belleme's death. "He sought to use a sacred thing for dark magic. Such things never end well."

The return to Sherwood was the first truly happy moment in a long time, when they could laugh and feel light-hearted once more.

Robin's long hair was the only thing that still reminded him of all that had happened. He kept his hand on the sword at his side, as though afraid someone might take it from him again.

The Sun was setting slowly behind the horizon. They sat around the fire enjoying the peace, when Robin's thoughts turned to the silver horse. He had promised himself he would return for it to Nottingham-yet now he was no longer certain whether it had not been Belleme's doing all along.

Then he felt a hand on his shoulder. He trembled and turned to see Herne standing behind him.

"Herne", Robin whispered, unsure what to  say, for they had not seen each other since the night when he had been punished for his arrogance.

"You have learnt your lesson", Herne said placing a hand upon his head. To everyone's surprise, Robin’s long locks vanished, and the curse was finally broken.

"My mullet!" Robin exclaimed, hardly believing that Herne had truly forgiven him.

"You made many mistakes", Herne continued, looking into his champio's eyes. "But in the end, you understood-and you accepted your fate."

Robin smiled, grateful, filled with hope that all would now be well.

"I will always seek your guidance", he promised.

"And what about the silver horse?" Much asked suddenly, still hoping they might ride it again now that the danger had passed.

"I returned it back to the future where it belongs", Herne replied. "No one will ride it again here in Sherwood."

"Was it evil?" Robin asked quietly, with a trace of regret.

"There are no things that are good or evil", Herne said. "Only people who choose how to use them. Yet you must not play with time. The silver horse will remain where it belongs-together with the emerald ring which now rests once more in the chapel."

Robin accepted this truth, comforted by the thought that at least the creature was safe, and its heart could still beat. Only Much sighed, disappointed, wishing so dearly to ride it once more.

"Don't worry, Much", Robin said, ruffling his hair. "I'm certain many adventures still await us."

"I can’t believe it!" Robin burst out, suddenly remembering all the mishaps he had suffered in the past. "It must have been Herne who caused that fog", he said angrily, putting the pieces together. "But why would he do that again?" he added, splashing the water with his fist.

He jumped out of it, ready to confront Herne and have a word with him. Much, confused, followed him, with a bewildered look, as he did not understand anything.

"Oh, our hero is back", Will announced ironically, while Robin shot him a murderous glare.

"What happened to your hair?" Marion asked, confused, as Robin indeed looked terrible.

"Did your horsie bolt and throw you into its... dung?" Will continued with a snide remark. "Shut up, Will", Robin almost exploded. "It's not the one to blame. Herne is."

John snorted, unable to believe that Robin was really blaming everyone but himself-and that creature.

"Don't you remember the previous incidents?" Robin went on, determined to make them see his point. "I'm sure Herne is responsible for this", he grabbed a strand of what had once been his mullet-completely ruined.

"Even if it's true, you know you deserved it", John said without a hint of sympathy, while Will simply nodded in agreement.

Robin sank to the ground in despair, aware of what awaited him-his hair would have to be cut off once again. Marion felt a sudden wave of compassion. Even if she could not deny it was probably the only way to sober him up, it still fell to her to carry out the sentence. Although Robin had behaved carelessly, entrusting himself to unknown powers, she knew he would be a pain in the neck until his hair grew back. She sighed, concluding that he had a knack for getting into trouble.

Robin gritted his teeth as Marion stepped forward, scissors in hand.

Tangled locks began to fall into his lap, but he only stared into the distance, determined to speak to Herne.

The fog had clung to the entire mullet-it had to be cut much shorter than ever before. Marion's hand trembled, yet she knew there was no other choice. When all his hair had fallen to the ground, Robin peered into the stream to see the result-and groaned, utterly wretched.

"Oh, Marion, what have you done?" he cried, barely recognising himself.

"I'm sorry, Robin", she said softly, "but there was no way to save it."

Much stared at him in disbelief, overcome with guilt. He wanted to say something, but couldn't find the right words of comfort. If only Robin hadn't taken him for a ride... yet, it was too late to think of that now. Even the others finally felt for him.

"Don't worry so much", John said, patting his back. "It'll grow back."

And deep inside, they all hoped that at least he would finally forget the silver horse.

No one said anything for the rest of the day. The Merry Men knew that Robin had already been punished and let him be. Marion pottered about, preparing supper, but Robin refused to eat. He sat beneath a tree with his face buried in his hands, and waited for night to fall. He had no intention of telling anyone about his plan- to pay Herne a visit and demand his mullet back.

When at last everyone had gone to sleep, and Tuck's snoring was the only sound to be heard, Robin slipped away, heading to the cave where Herne dwelled.

"Why have you come?" he asked in a serious tone, seeing his champion enter the cave with a grim expression.

"I want my mullet back", Robin said bluntly. "I know it was you who caused the fog."

"You toyed with powers of darkness you know nothing about", Herne replied, not hiding his disappointment. "You seek answers where they cannot be found."

Robin grew impatient, as he was in no mood for moralizing, and dared to repeat his demand.

"I only want my mullet back."

Herne looked at him with sad eyes and shook his head in disbelief.

"You have learnt nothing. That is why your hair will never grow back. It will be your punishment."

Having said that, he vanished into the mist.

Robin's lips trembled as he let out a strangled cry. Feeling he could barely stand, he rested his head against the wall of the cave, yet its cold chilled him to the marrow, and Herne's words kept echoing in his mind-your hair will never grow back...

Robin left the cave on shaky legs, unable to believe that it had really happened.

"How can you be so cruel", he cried in despair, but only the echo answered him.

He walked unsteadily, stumbling, feeling completely shattered. After a while, he stopped to lean against a tree-and then noticed a faint light ahead. He guessed it must be the witch's hut. She was said to live deep in the forest, dealing in dark magic and casting curses on those who crossed her. Robin hesitated, but his desire to regain the mullet made him lose the last shred of common sense. He pulled his hood down low over his face and followed the light.

He finally stood in front of the small house, hearing his own heartbeat, when the door opened suddenly with a crackling sound.

"Come in", the girl gestured, as if she had been expecting him.

He swept his gaze across the room, full of strange objects, spell books and flasks filled with unknown potions. A few candles placed around the room, cast eerie shadows on the walls. The girl watched him intently, her long, curly hair cascading down to her waist, as black as her dress.

"I know what you need", she whispered, stepping closer.

"Do you?" Robin stammered, trembling as she touched the edge of his hood.

Before he knew it, she yanked it off in a swift motion, revealing his cropped hair. Robin did not dare to look at her, ashamed and stunned that she already knew his secret. She took his hand and slipped a small flask containing some golden liquid into it.

"What do you want in return?" Robin asked, gripping the flask like the most precious treasure.

"Nothing", she replied with a smile.

Robin made for the door, impatient to take the potion at once and surprise everyone with his new hairstyle.

"But remember", the girl added after a pause, "only one drop-no more."

Her face lit up as Robin disappeared into the darkness, not even looking back. He ran back to the camp, his heart pounding, and after making sure that everyone was asleep, he emptied the flask in one gulp and threw it into the bushes.

At dawn, the sun broke through the trees, touching Robin's face. He opened his eyes slowly and then the events of the previous night came back to him. He touched his head hurriedly, expecting his mullet to be back-yet a feeling of anxiety washed over him. He sprang to his feet and, to his horror, discovered that his hair now reached his feet, almost brushing the ground.

"Oh, no!" he exclaimed in panic. "I messed up."

His scream woke the others. They raised their heads, startled by the unexpected morning cry. John rubbed his eyes, certain he was still dreaming, while Robin stood there like a wood nymph, a cascade of hair swaying gently in the wind.

"What the hell?" Will shouted, grabbing his bow, ready to fight, as he thought they were under attack. Tuck reached out to stop him, though he himself wasn't entirely sure it was really Robin.

After a few more seconds of stunned silence, they all stepped slowly closer to him, waiting for an explanation.

"What is this supposed to be?" Will asked, carefully touching Robin's mane as if suspecting it might be poisonous.

"I... I don't know", Robin stammered, blushing, with no intention whatsoever of telling them about the potion. "I woke up and it was already like this", he lied smoothly.

"I'm not John if that beast didn't do this", John said, absolutely certain that the silver horse hid more dark secrets than they could imagine.

Robin only glanced at him without a word, knowing it was his own fault. He regretted not taking the witch's warning seriously. If only he had been able to foresee the consequences... he would never have drunk the whole potion at once.

"Oh, what shall I do?" he groaned helplessly.

"I suppose we can just cut it off", Marion suggested sensibly.

"Or send you to Gisbourne", Will added, finally cheering up and regaining his sharp tongue.

"What for?" John asked, genuinely baffled.

"When he touches this silky mane, he'll beg the Sheriff to spare him."

Everyone burst out laughing, but Robin only rolled his eyes, hoping all his troubles would finally come to an end.

Marion took the scissors and began cutting the unnaturally long locks. Soon, the mullet adorned Robin's head once more, and he breathed a sigh of relief. The others gathered the cut hair, playing with it and wondering if it could be used for something.

"We could send it to Gisbourne anyway", Will chuckled, "as a holy relic to pray to." Their laughter echoed through the forest, and only Tuck cast Will a reproachful glance.

That night, Robin slept peacefully, not suspecting any more trouble. He even believed he would convince the others that the silver horse was as mild as a lamb, and that they could safely ride it. Fate, however, was not so kind.

When Robin opened his eyes the next morning, he raised a hand to brush a wayward lock away from his face. Yet it seemed longer than it should have been. He sat up, a little anxious, and what he saw left him utterly shocked-his hair was foot-length again.

"I can’t believe it!" he cried so loudly that Marion, who slept beside him, jumped in fright.

The others woke up as well, and seeing him in that state, no longer felt like joking. Since Robin had not ridden the silver horse the day before, they began to suspect there was more to it than that. Robin just stared at the ground, wondering how to get out of the mess. He knew that going to Herne might only make matters worse, and then a thought crossed his mind-perhaps the witch had an antidote.

"Let's have something to eat first", John decided, "and then we'll think what to do."

Marion went to fetch some food when something caught her attention. In the grass, she spotted a small, empty flask.

She looked at it suspiciously, as it wasn't something commonly found in the forest. She bent down to pick it up and wondered who might have dropped it there. She approached the others and, showing them the flask, asked, a little worried,

"Do you know what this could be?"

Robin, recognising the flask that had contained the golden liquid he had drunk so carelessly, gasped and went pale. All eyes turned to him, waiting for him to speak.

"You know what it is, don't you, Robin", Marion said, growing impatient.

Backed into a corner, he understood he couldn't hide his secret any longer.

Looking at Marion with the expression of a little boy caught stealing cake from the larder, he confessed the shameful truth.

"I... I just wanted my mullet to grow back faster, and...", he paused for a moment, "I took a hair-growth potion."

"Oh, how wonderful!" John exclaimed sarcastically. "And where on earth did you get that?"

Aware that he couldn't make up another lie without getting into even bigger trouble,  he took a deep breath and confessed. "From... the witch."

Everyone looked at each other, astonished and unable to make sense of it, while Robin felt his strength give out and sank to the ground.

His hair swept across like a cape, making him look like some wild, odd creature.

"Well, one thing is certain", John added waspishly. "The potion was at least effective."

Will chuckled, imagining Robin in a fight with soldiers, flicking it like a banner.

"Cutting it off won't have any effect I suppose", Marion said with concern, while Robin wished the earth would open and swallow him.

"We definitely must see Herne", she insisted, unwilling to hear any excuses, unaware that Robin had already paid him a visit-and that it had been anything but friendly.

"Oh, Marion...", Robin still tried to weasel out of it. "Can't we just wait until the potion wears off?"

"We don't know how long it will take", she went on, trying to persuade him, not even suspecting that he had already gone so far as to demand his mullet back without a trace of remorse.

"You can’t go on like that forever", she added, considering the matter closed.

His thoughts were racing as he desperatly tried to figure out how to avoid a confrontation with Herne. It seemed obvious that telling the whole truth was out of the question.

"I think I'll get used to it", he said, tossing his hair back casually to convince them he didn't care. "There's no point in bothering Herne with such a trifle."

Marion sighed in resignation, unable to believe that he was really going to parade around like a bride wearing a veil.

"Stop this nonsense, Robin", she said firmly, ready to put an end to this childishness. "You took a potion made by a witch. We don’t know what consequences it might have. What if it never wears off?"

Will began to laugh and pretend he had long hair himself, flicking imaginary locks with the grace of a maiden. "Stop it, Will", Robin snapped, glaring at him.

Marion shook her head, looking at Will reproachfully, as she saw nothing funny in the situation.

"We must see Herne", she repeated, making it clear that the decision was final.

Robin's heart began to race as he felt the noose around his neck tighten. He was convinced that Herne would not forgive him and would punish him even more severely for taking the potion. He shivered as if with fever, feeling utterly miserable.

There was only one way to distract Marion and the others, though the thought filled him with overwhelming guilt-he would have to lie again.

"All right", he began slowly. "I will see Herne."

Marion smiled and kissed his cheek, running her fingers through the thick mass of hair, relieved that he had finally listened to reason.

"But I'd rather go to him alone", he added after a pause.

Marion drew back in surprise, while the others cast him suspicious looks.

"I think we should go together, Robin", John suggested, a hint of snark in his voice as he patted his shoulder. "We’re friends, remember?"

They looked into each other's eyes for a moment, as if trying to read one another's thoughts, yet Robin didn't falter.

"You don't trust me, do you?" he finally said, trying to turn the tables, though his heart began to race again.

"Why shouldn't I?" John gazed at him a moment longer, as if waiting for some sign that he truly shouldn't. Still, he couldn't guess what was really on Robin's mind.

"All right then", he said at last, though not entirely convinced. "Go to Herne alone."

"I'll wait until dusk", Robin informed them, as he wished to delay this moment as long as possible. 

The day passed quickly, and Robin sat by the fire with his mane spread around him, pretending he wanted to eat first.

Tuck kept an eye on roasting venison, while Marion poured ale into mugs. They all fell silent, wondering why Robin didn't want their company.

Will handed him a plate with meat, but he only picked at it, his stomach turning at the thought of swallowing anything. Yet he still needed time to think. He forced small pieces into his mouth, praying he wouldn’t be sick.

The moon touching the peak of a tree and the first hoots of an owl were signs of the approaching night. Nasir stood up and put more wood on the fire, casting Robin a questioning look. He knew he could no longer linger, though he wasn't sure what he should do.

At last, he rose slowly, dragging his hair behind him, and disappeared into the darkness without a word.

He walked for a while like a sleepwalker, not really knowing what he was doing, wishing only to fall asleep and wake when all his problems were gone.

Still, one thing was certain-he couldn't go to Herne. He found himself at a crossroads, desperate and wretched, and, supposing it was the only thing he could do, he turned his steps towards... the witch's hut. The door opened, and the girl greeted him as though he were an old friend.

"Nice to see you again", she said, casting a glance at the shimmering locks that covered his body.

"I suppose you have an antidote", Robin got straight to the point, blushing.

"Maybe", she whispered with a faint smile, stepping closer as if she meant to kiss him.

He trembled but was unable to move under her piercing gaze. She raised her hand, showing him a flask filled with what he believed to be an antidote. He reached out with a trembling hand, but she drew it back, laughing.

"It has a price now", she said lightly, brushing her fingers against his cheek.

"What do you want?" Robin asked, eager to leave this place as soon as possible and forget the whole thing.

The girl studied him for a moment before replying softly, "Albion.... I want Albion."

Robin went pale, groping for something to lean on.

"You can’t be serious!", he cried, realizing he was trapped. "It was Herne who gave it to me."

A sudden wave of regret washed over him, as he spoke Herne's name. He had betrayed him because of... hair.

"Oh, please", he tried to negotiate, "I can give you anything you want-money, jewels..."

"No!", the girl said firmly. "I want the sword."

"Why are you doing this?" Robin asked, unable to understand why on earth she needed it.

The witch only laughed, reminding him of his own recklessness.

"I told you-one drop. Now it's time to pay for your mistake".

Robin felt his world falling apart.

How could he give Albion to her? How could he betray everything that meant something to him-Herne, Marion, his friends, the people he fought for. Yet he seemed to have no choice.

He gripped the sword, feeling the cold hilt, as if to say goodbye.

He couldn't go to Herne now, after angering him so deeply, nor could he return to Marion and the others and tell them the truth. Yet he couldn't walk around with hair trailing along the ground either-mocked and humiliated. He drew the sword and handed it to the girl, not even looking at it, as if afraid he might change his mind.

"It's yours", he stammered. "Now give me the potion."

She waved it in front of his face before finally letting him take it.

"Tomorrow you'll wake up with your mullet again", she assured him, gently brushing the sword.

Robin left the hut and swallowed the liquid immediately. Then he buried the flask beneath a tree, so that no one would ever find it.

"I'll get it back", he promised himself. "I must."

He walked slowly, the wind tousling his hair, making him look like a ghost in the darkness. Now he only had to think of what to tell the others about the meeting with Herne that had never taken place.

After a moment, he bumped into something, and almost cried out in fear.

"Oh, Robin, where have you been?" he heard a familiar voice.

"For goodness' sake, Much, what are you doing here?" he asked irritably. "You were supposed to stay with the others."

"I was worried", Much replied, his voice full of concern. "I slipped out and followed you to make sure you were all right."

"As you can see I'm perfectly fine", Robin snapped a little too harshly, annoyed that Much hadn't obeyed him.

"You haven't been to Herne, have you?" Much asked, trying to get at the truth.

Robin sighed heavily, as telling Much about his visit to the witch and losing Albion was something he wished to avoid.

"Robin", Much insisted, his voice pleading, "where have you been?"

Robin gazed at him for a moment, wondering if he could trust him.

"Do the others know you're here?" he asked, afraid his lies might be exposed.

"No", Much replied with a conspirational smile. "They didn't notice anything."

"Are you sure?" Robin pressed.

"Yes, they were going on about you and weren't paying any attention to me", Much reassured him.

"Well...", Robin began, hoping Much would keep his mouth shut. "I couldn't go to Herne. I went to the witch for an antidote. She promised my hair would be back to normal tomorrow."

Much looked at him intently, still not fully understanding.

"But you mustn’t breathe a word", Robin added firmly. "Promise me this, Much."

Much was ready to promise anything, as he loved Robin with all his heart-even if he asked him to jump into a fire or put a frog on the Sheriff's head.

"I promise", he said without hesitation. "But why is it a secret?" he kept asking, still trying to understand.

Robin sighed again, wishing to spare as many details as possible.

"You know they would be angry. They think Herne is the only one we can turn to for advice. But sometimes you have to seek help elsewhere", he added, hoping Much wouldn't ask any more questions.

"Now go", Robin urged him. "They can’t see us together."

Much dashed ahead, while Robin waited a few more minutes before slowly making his way back to the camp. He returned a moment later, trying to look relaxed.

"And what did Herne say?" John asked, as they all saw that his hair remained as long as before.

"Well... ", Robin began, not even batting an eye. "He was a little cross, but said that at dawn my hair would be back to normal."

Then he sat by the fire and embraced Marion with a smile, as if he hadn’t just come back from the witch, left Albion in her hands, and lied to them all over again. Much glanced at him, a spark in his eyes, as though to say-Don't worry. My lips are sealed.

"I guess I'll go to sleep", Robin yawned at length, pretending to be tired, though in truth he simply didn't want to be asked any more questions. He lay down, his hair spread around him like a blanket, certain he was seeing it for the last time, and wondering how to retrieve Albion before anyone noticed it was missing.

He tossed and turned all night, consumed by guilt. When at last he fell asleep, he saw Herne in his dream, his stag antlers rising above him, silent and sorrowful. Robin jerked awake, drenched in sweat-and to his utter horror, his long hair still covered his body. He screamed, terrified, as it dawned on him that the witch had deceived him.

The others woke, raising their heads to see what had happened this time.

"You told us your hair was going to vanish", Will exclaimed, clearly smelling a rat.

"I don't understand", Robin stammered, though in truth he understood perfectly.

"Do you mean to tell us Herne played a trick on you?" John asked, not bothering to hide his sarcasm.

Yet Robin felt it wouldn't be impossible. If he hadn’t helped him when he had wanted his mullet back, he might have not helped him this time either-even if Robin really had gone to him instead of the witch.

"He probably wanted to punish me", he admitted resignedly-the first thing he had said in a long time that wasn't a lie.

"If you had allowed us to go with you, it might not have happened", Will went on, convinced that Herne might have been relented if they had all gone together.

Robin lowered his head miserably, his hair sweeping over his boots.

"What shall I do?" he cried, though he knew no one could give him an answer.

Much peered at him, aware that Robin had done something foolish, but unable to break his promise.

Meanwhile, Baron de Belleme gazed at the sword lying on the table before him, brought only moments earlier by the witch.

"Now he is unprotected", Belleme's gloomy voice echoed through the chamber.

"With the curse entwined in his hair-and with me able to control the machine-nothing will save him now."

Robin glanced wistfully at the silver horse standing beneath the oak. He had almost forgotten about it, tormented by other worries. If it hadn’t been for that stupid potion, he could be riding it now, showing the Sheriff, Gisbourne and all his men that he was invincible and unafraid. He also wondered why Herne had made him ride into the fog, ruining his hair, as he still believed it had been his doing. It seemed that Herne did not approve of the creature either, though to Robin it was just a poor animal that everyone rejected, without even trying to understand. He gripped a long strand of his hair and studied it for a moment, as if it did not belong to him. He knew he would have to get used to it, as it would probably stay like that forever. Yet the worst thing was that soon everyone would find out he had gone to the witch-and he would become a laughing stock.

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."

Robin woke up, sensing something in the air-something he couldn’t explain. A light breeze stirred the leaves and a startled hare darted through the clearing. There was much to be done, so he just pushed the feeling aside.

Tuck was preparing breakfast for everyone-mouth watering cuts of meat sizzling over the fire.

"So, the plan is...", Robin began but suddenly stopped, staring intently ahead.

"Are you all right, Robin?", Marion asked, touching his hand gently, seeing his puzzled expression.

"There's something behind that tree", he said, pointing to an old oak.

"I can’t see anything", Little John replied impatiently, stuffing a large piece of venison into his mouth.

"We'd better hurry. You know, the Sheriff's men won't wait while you admire the scenery". Everyone laughed, but Robin remained lost in his thoughts.

The old tree seemed to whisper. A strange, musical sound grew louder in Robin's mind. He was staring at it, as if under a spell.

"I must check it", he said, already moving towards the oak.

"I wouldn’t do that if I were you", Will joked, winking at John, "Could be Gisbourne". They laughed again,  but Robin ignored them.

"Come to me...come...", the tree seemed to call him.

Will, John and Much followed, nudging each other and pretending to be Gisbourne's ghost, leaping from behind the oak to scare Robin.

But when they came closer, something revealed itself. "What’s that, Robin?", Much asked with fear in his voice. "Is it a demon?"

"I don't know", Robin replied, just as surprised, yet his curiosity got even stronger.

Before their eyes stood something none of them had ever seen: a metal, horse-like creature that seemed a demon indeed.

"You'd better not touch it", Will said no longer joking. "It may be a trap". Robin, however, was fascinated and ready to face it, whatever it was.

Marion, Tuck and Nasir came running to see what was happening. They gathered around the mysterious object, completely stunned.

Robin cautiously reached out to see if the thing will move, but nothing happened.

"I'm scared", Much's voice trembled as he stepped back.

"I guess it may be some kind of dark magic", John said, trying to stop him from touching it. But Robin’s fingers had already brushed the cold surface.

"There's nothing to fear", he said calmly. "You see? It won't harm us."

The wind grew stronger, swaying branches of the old oak in the sinister rhythm. The Merry Men reminded Robin of the ambush they had planned, but he paid no attention to their pleas.

"Let's leave him", Will said, losing patience. "Maybe he'll come to his senses when this monster tries to devour him."

But Robin did not listen. He was already captivated by the silver horse, gleaming in the sun, and spent the whole morning running his hands over its cold, smooth surface.

Meanwhile, baron de Belleme spoke to a young witch, he had summoned, "He took the bait. You know what to do". A faint smile touched the girl's lips, as she bowed.

"Now even Herne the Hunter won't save him", the baron's cold laughter echoed through the dark halls of his castle.

"Are you certain he will know how to start the machine, my lord?" the girl asked, hesitating, as she did not understand it herself.

"He will", Belleme replied, tightening his grip on a glass of wine. "He is Herne's son, he will find a way. And this time... it will be his end."

The castle walls seemed to tremble as if they agreed that Robin's fate was finally sealed. Marion and the others were sitting by the fire, observing Robin from a distance.

"I don't like it", Nasir said quietly, cleaning one of his swords. His dark eyes were fixed on the strange object, they all feared.

"He'll get into trouble again, I feel it in my bones", John added with a sigh.

"Let's hope you're not a prophet of doom", Tuck said, making the sign of the cross, as if to ward off evil spirits.

Yet, Robin grew more and more determined to discover what the thing was and where it had come from. He reached out and touched it again. The silver frame resembled an animal-though it had no head. It had wheels, like a cart... and  something that might have been a saddle. Robin paced back and forth, willing to uncover its secrets.

Although frightened, Much stepped closer. He trusted Robin more than anyone in the world-surely he knew what he was doing.

"Do you know what that is?", he asked, not daring to touch the metal demon himself.

"Not yet", Robin replied, "but I won't rest until I find out."

"Maybe it was sent by Herne?", Much said, wishing to believe it was just another riddle to be solved. Robin shook his head, still watching the strange object closely.

"It must come from a different world", he said, gripping one of the cold, lifeless, metal parts. "But it seems to have no soul."

"Oh, Robin... maybe the others are right", Much said, clearly uneasy at the thought of dealing with something that had no soul.

"We'd better cover it with leaves and forget it was ever here", he added, his voice trembling.

"No", Robin said firmly. "I believe it was sent here for some reason. And I am going to bring it to life."

"Bring it to life?", Much repeated slowly, growing even paler.

At the same time, faint candlelight fell upon Belleme's gloomy face. Dressed in black robes, he moved through the castle like a shadow.

"It will soon be over", his voice echoed in the chamber. "Herne chose well-the cleverest, the bravest, people's hero. But his pride will be his downfall". Belleme's sinister laughter startled a raven, perched on the sill, sending it into flight. "It is close."

Everyone tried to reason with Robin but he would not listen. He was determined to find the silver horse's soul no matter the cost. He was certain it was merely asleep - and there had to be a way to awaken it.

"You don't know what you're getting into!", Will shouted, irritated.

"You should go to Herne and ask him for advice", Marion suggested, "he will know what to do."

"No, he won't", Robin snapped, having had enough of their warnings. "I will discover it on my own. Now... leave me alone."

Marion looked at him in fear, but said nothing more.

The night was warm, and the new moon peered through the clouds. From time to time, the quiet hooting of an owl was heard in the distance. But Robin remained wide awake. He stared at the unfamiliar shape, hidden in the darkness, behind the oak, as though he could will it to move.

The young witch did not sleep either. Her little hut was lit by the fire crackling beneath a cauldron, where a potion was brewing. She murmured spells under her breath, focused and composed.

"It is done", she whispered, knowing the baron would sense it. "He will come to me soon."

At dawn, the Sheriff of Nottingham was awakened by a knock on the door. Half-asleep, with puffy eyes and terrible headache after too much wine the night before, ordered the intruder to come in.

The king wanted Robin Hood captured as soon as possible, but the Sheriff was nowhere near meeting that demand, and wine had helped him ease the tension.

"My lord." It was Guy who entered the chamber.

"What is it, Gisbourne?" the Sheriff roared, furious. "I hope you finally have news of that cursed hooded villain!" Gisbourne lowered his head, frightened, and replied in a trembling voice,

"No my lord. There has been no news since yesterday. We expected an ambush, but he vanished... he and his men."

"What do you mean, vanished?", the Sheriff exploded. "Are you teling me you failed again?"

Gisbourne shrunk back, wishing himself anywhere but there.

"I warn you", the Sheriff snarled, jumping out of bed and rubbing his face in disbelief, "I want his head!"

He grabbed a glass from the table and hurled it across the chamber. Gisbourne ducked to avoid being struck. "Now, get out of my sight!", the Sheriff flung the door open, shoved his man out and slammed it with such force that the window panes rattled, his voice still echoing through the halls.

Robin, meanwhile, had forgotten about the Sheriff, the people in need, even to eat or drink. The Merry Men, upon waking and seeing him still pacing around 'the silver horse', as it had come to be called, gave up, knowing it was hopeless to reason with him. Robin seemed utterly enchanted by the fascinating creature, covered in its smooth metal skin.

"There must be a way... there must be", he murmured to himself, examining it closely and searching for clues.

"Oh, why can't you give me a sign?" he finally shouted, frustrated. The silver horse seemed to be beautiful, yet strange and unsettling.

"What am I supposed to do?", he asked himself, his impatience growing, and reached out to touch it once again. Try as he might, however, the creature remained as cold as before.

And then his gaze wandered to something that looked like a saddle.

He hesitated for a moment and then... jumped onto it, closing his eyes as if expecting it to take off and soar into the sky like a bird. But nothing happened. Its heart did not start to beat.

The others, aghast at his recklesness, gathered around, bracing themselves for the worst. Marion stepped forward, fearing for his life, but John blocked her path.

"No!", he shouted, "it's too dangerous."

They all froze, as if the earth itself might open and swallow him, along with the metal beast.

Still, there was only silence, broken by nothing but birds' song. Robin slowly opened his eyes and found himself clutching the horse so tightly that his knuckles turned white.

"I thought it would help", he said quietly, defeated, and slammed his fist against the cold metal.

"Stop putting our lives at risk!" Will shouted, losing his temper as he grabbed Robin's arm, trying to pull him off the horse.

"Can't you see it's no ordinary thing? We don't know what powers it hides. Do you want it to kill us?"

"Calm down, Will", Robin tried to defuse the situation. "I don't believe it can be so dangerous. Such a beautiful creature cannot be evil."

"But I do!" Will shouted even louder and kicked the horse, as if believing it to crumble to dust. Much cowered and pressed himself against Marion with tears in his eyes. Robin meant the world to him, yet he was as frightened as the others and wished this terrifying thing would simply vanish. Will turned on his heel and walked away, swearing under his breath. No one knew what to do, seeing that Robin was already bewitched and blind to every warning.

"I love you Robin", John finally said quietly. "You're the Hooded Mullet... and our hope. But...", he hesitated, "this is too much."

One by one, they followed Will, desperate to find a way to pull Robin out of whatever spell had taken hold of him.

That night, no one was in the mood for talking. Each of them stared into the fire, watching the sparks dance, wishing to save Robin no matter the cost. Marion trembled, although the warmth of the flames almost reached the hem of her dress. Yet it was not cold that made her shiver... it was fear. She finally spoke, giving voice to what they all knew.

"We must see Herne. He is the only one who can help."

"I think she's right", John said, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. "Is that agreed?"

Everyone nodded in silence, their eyes drifting toward Robin, who sat beside the silver horse, touching it gently, as though it were a wounded doe.

Marion and the others lay down, but sleep would not come. The forest no longer felt like home, but a hostile place filled with dark magic, drawing them into a trap with no escape. Every familiar tree, every bush and stone seemed to turn against them.

Robin kept watch. The place where the horse had been kicked by Will seemed... intriguing.

He brushed his fingers against a small  protruding part and discovered that it could be moved. It was only on one side. He stared at it for a long while, until at last sleep overcame him. His head sank onto the grass and his eyes closed.

He dreamt that  he was galloping on the silver horse over trees and hills, even above the Nottingham castle, almost touching the sky. Down below, he saw Herne the Hunter standing on the ground and waving with a grin. "My dear Robin", he heard his voice, "you deserve to be commended."

The chirping of birds woke him. It was daybreak and the sun had just begun to rise above the horizon. Looking around, he saw that everyone was sound asleep, exhausted after a sleepless night filled with troubled thoughts. He turned his gaze to the silver horse, hoping his dream would come true and that Herne would indeed be proud of him once he found the answer he had been sarching for over the past three days.

However, he still had to find it.

"I feel that you have a heart beneath your iron skin", he said quietly, as if afraid someone might hear him. "You must have come here for a reason. But they... they don't understand."

He turned his head to glance at his sleeping friends. Then, carefully he sat on it once again. The creature remained silent and motionless, yet Robin felt a strange bond growing between them.

The sun climbed higher and higher in the sky, and a few geese flew overhead, honking loudly. Robin dismounted, unwilling to risk another argument. He knew he had been left alone to find the answer.

Little John opened his eyes when a bee began to buzz above his head. Robin was sitting, leant against a tree, pretending he had just woken up as well.

"Not with your new pet?", John asked, not hiding sarcasm. Yet, Robin only gritted his teeth and said nothing.

John's voice woke the others except for Tuck, who was still snoring after a long prayer the night before, asking for Robin to regain his common sense.

Marion's sad eyes met Robin's. He had not meant to make her worry, yet she had chosen to stand against him as well.

"We have come to a decision", she said, stepping closer and touching his cheek with a trembling hand. "We are going to Herne."

Robin recoiled as if struck by a poisonous snake.

"You can’t do this!" he shouted, his eyes darkening with anger. "It is betrayal." Marion covered her face with her hands and burst into sobs.

"Let's leave him", Will said, casting him a dark look. "He is a fool."

Robin was about to strike him, but held back at the last moment. The invisible wall between them seemed to rise even higher, and the silver horse was the only thing that still felt like Robin's ally. Desperate, he leapt onto it, determined to prove he was not afraid of anything. He pressed his foot hard against the small, mysterious part, not even knowing what he was doing-and then... an ear-splitting roar seemed to shake the very earth beneath them.

Tuck sprang to his feet and began to pray, convinced that the time of the apocalypse had come.

"Oh Lord", he cried in terror, "forgive me my sins!"

"Devils have come!", Much exclaimed in  panic, wishing to hide, yet his feet seemed to be glued to the ground. Everyone stared in horror at the unnatural scene, a dreadful thought taking hold of them - that it was over, and they would all soon die. Robin was no less frightened, for he had not expected the horse to awaken so suddenly.

He felt the creature trembling beneath him, and its loud, growling roar was the most terrifying sound which they had ever heard. None of them was able to react, their hearts pounding faster than arrows shot from their bows. Robin clutched the horse's horns tightly, as though he were trying to tame a visious bull. And then, after a few more seconds... there was only silence.

It felt like eternity before they finally found their voices. A woodpeker began to peck at a nearby tree, and its steady rhythm was a strange contrast to what had just happened.

"I told you it was a trap!", Will shouted, unable to understand how anyone could be so reckless.

Robin got off slowly, on shaky legs, and looked at the frightened and angry faces of his friends. 

"We're taking you to Herne", John said, stepping closer, as though afraid Robin might try to escape.

"And we need to get rid of that devil", Will added furiously, pointing to the silver horse, now silent once more. Marion, having regained control of her legs, ran towards Robin and flung her arms around his neck.

"Oh, Robin", she cried with relief that he was unharmed.

"Marion", he whispered, unsure of what he should do now.

"Herne will get this nonsense out of his head", Will went on, unable to stop himself from moralizing.

But he was wrong to believe that Robin would stand in Herne's presence without question. Now that the fear had passed, Robin slowly turned his gaze to the horse and thought: It does have a heart... and a soul. If treated with care, it will reveal its gentler nature. Yet, he still had to find a way to uncover it.

"I'm exhausted." Robin sat beneath a tree and hid his face in his hands, wishing they would leave him alone for a while so that he could think. Going to Herne was the very last thing he wanted, and he could not allow them to take his silver horse from him-especially now, when he felt he was so close to solving the riddle.

"Please... let me rest", he said, playing for time, while his thoughts raced frantically.

The others exchanged uneasy glances, hoping that he had finally understood the danger hidden within the unknown beast, whose shrill noise still rang in their ears.

Robin lay down, pretending to be asleep, yet all his senses were alert. He knew he had no time to lose-that he had to think of something before Herne deprived him of what he believed was meant to be his.

"Let him sleep", Marion whispered, stroking gently his hair. "He has been through a hard time as well."

She looked at him with love, even now, when they all believed it had been a narrow escape. He seemed so fragile and innocent, breathing steadily.

Will finally gave up and walked away, followed by the others. Only Marion remained, sitting beside him, as though he were a sick child.

Oh, Marion, please go away, he thought, knowing he could not stay there much longer. In his mind, he tried to recall the moment when the horse had shown the first sign of life. He already knew every part of it by heart. A few strange elements on its horns and along its sides reminded him of reins and stirrups. Perhaps the creature had fallen silent because it had not been urged into a canter. Its loud roar had been terrifying indeed, yet it might have been nothing more than fear-a beast defending itself. Robin began to believe that he was the one to blame for frightening it when he had mounted it so abruptly.

I must be gentler with it, he thought, eager to get Marion away for a while, so that he could return to the horse. She sat with her knees tucked under her chin, watching ants crawling through the grass.

"Marion", Robin said, his voice breaking her reverie. "I'm so thirsty. Could you bring me some water?"

A faint smile touched her lips, as she suspected nothing. He seemed to have just woken from a short nap.

"I'll be right back", she said, kissing his forehead. Taking a waterskin, she went to fill it at the nearby stream. Robin waited until she was out of sight and then... carefully crept up to the horse, determined to urge it into a gallop this time.

"Now or never", he said to himself, mounting the creature. At first, he pressed the small, hidden part gently, as though afraid to startle it again, but nothing happened. Then, he struck it a little more firmly-and it answered with a brief, purring sound like a muffled cough. The third time was hard and decisive. The horse's roar tore through the forest once more. Yet Robin was no longer afraid.

Now, he only had to make it move. He could not figure out how to do it, so let his intuition guide him. He clutched the horns as though they were reins-and suddenly, the horse leapt forward.

Robin's heart hammered in his chest, but fear gave way to exhilaration. The creature's whir was lauder than ever, yet this time Robin took it for a sign of gratitude. It was finally free and could ran like the wind.

"Come on, boy, come on!" he shouted, his mullet fluttering wildly behind him.

Marion who was filling the waterskin, gave a frantic cry and slipped straight into the stream. The others, catching sight of Robin racing towards them on the silver beast, scattered in panic, seeing nothing but a cloud of dust rising along the path.

"He's mad!" Will shrieked, clapping his hands over his ears.

Robin, however, was overjoyed. He had a horse as swift as lightning and as loud as thunder. He felt like the true king of Sherwood now.

The creature did not stop for a long while, and Robin soon discovered that gripping one of its horns made it run even faster. After a few minutes of this wild ride, a thought crossed his mind-what now? He wanted to stop. "Whoa, whoa!", he shouted, but no matter how hard he tried, nothing happened. The horse kept racing ahead.

Marion climbed out of the stream and, dripping with water, hurried to join the others. They were no less frightened than before and wondered whether Robin was still alive, fearing that the beast might have killed him.

Robin himself was no longer certain he would save his own skin. None of his commands had any effect. Panicked, he began to kick at the horse, flailing his legs wildly. Trees flashed before his eyes and a deer darted across his path, startled by the noise.

"Oh, God!", he cried, desperate to stop at last. He let go of one of the horns, rasing an arm to shield his face from the branches-and suddenly the beast began to slow.

Then, however, Robin felt he was losing his balance. The horse was too unstable to control with one hand. Afraid he might fall, he blindly grabbed the horn again and, by chance, pressed something that jutted out of it. The creature came to a halt within seconds with a terrible screech. It took Robin a moment to recover from the shock, breathing fast, his whole body trembling.

Marion and the Merry Men ran quickly to the spot, gasping for breath, as it had taken them a while to catch up with him. Seeing that he was unharmed, Marion burst into tears, overwhelmed with relief-but also hurt that he had deceived her without a second thought. "How could you?" John asked, shaking his head in disbelief.

"We shouldn't have let him out of our sight for even a second", Will said, stepping forward and grabbing Robin by his clothes, more furious than ever.

"You're a complete idiot!" His eyes were blazing with anger.

Robin wished they would understand.

Thanks to that horse, they need not to be afraid-they could crush their enemies and strike fear into their hearts. He knew, however, that it would not be so easy, not now, when they were all so angry. First, he had to calm their emotions.

"I'm sorry", he said humbly, opening his arms to embrace Marion. But she looked at him as though he were a stranger.

They all did. They just shook their heads in disbelief, astonished that he had chosen that monster and made fools of them, lying through his teeth. Marion's tears mingled with the water still dripping from her hair, and only Much was ready to forgive him, believing that Robin must have had a good reason for what he had done.

For a few seconds they simply looked at each other in silence. The silver horse's whir had ceased as well. One might have thought it a mild lamb grazing in a meadow. "I know what you think", it was Robin who spoke first.

"No, you don't", Will snapped. "We feared for your life while you were playing around with... that", he pointed a trembling finger at the creature.

"It is not our enemy", Robin insisted, determined to convince them they were wrong, "I have tamed it. Now it will obey me. It will help us fight."

Much’s eyes widened as he imagined Robin riding the silver horse among frightened soldiers, in all his glory.

"Still, we think it’s too dangerous", John said while the others nodded in agreement. "There's nothing to fear", Robin wanted them so badly to believe him. "I have awakened it. I have found its soul. It may seem menacing, but it's just an animal we should take care of." His eyes sparkled at the memory of rushing through the paths of Sherwood on its back.

"We know nothing about it", Tuck spoke up. "What if it comes from hell? It may be a devil tempting you." Robin only rolled his eyes, impatient.

"You see devils everywhere, Tuck", he said, feeling that it would be an ordeal to change their minds.

"Herne would not approve of this", Marion made it clear that it was not for him to decide.

Robin leaned against a tree with a sigh and covered his eyes with one hand, resigned. Everyone hoped that he would finally admit they should at least show this mysterious find to Herne.

"Give me just one day", Robin said, clinging to his last hope. "One day to prove its powers are not against us."

"Fine", Will said through gritted teeth, after a moment of hesitation. "Do as you wish. But blame yourself if you don't come out of it alive."

Marion covered her mouth with her hands, trembling, and finally collapsed into Robin's arms, drained after everything she had been through. He embraced her tightly, stroking her hair and soaking in her warmth.

"I'll be fine", he whispered in her ear. "You'll see-it's a wonderful animal. And it's ours", he added with a smile, resting his head on her shoulder.

No one spoke as they made their way back to the camp. Robin walked beside the creature, holding it by its horns, having discovered that it was obedient and made no sound when led. Still, the others regarded it with distrust-except for Much, who was becoming more and more curious about what the beast truly was.

Robin knew that he had to be more carefull next time and take full control of the horse. He had already discovered how to make it gallop and then stop by squeezing its right horn. No one should have the slightest doubt about what he was doing. He desired to keep it more than anything else.

Everyone sat on the grass, watching his attempts, although still very sceptical. This time, however, Robin's ride was far less chaotic and he felt quite confident in the saddle. Marion flinched again and again, closing her eyes in anxiety, Will crossed his arms, with an expression clearly saying-you'll fail anyway, while Tuck was whispering prayers under his breath, as though it might help. Only Much's face shone with admiration.

Robin brought the horse to a halt in front of them with a beaming smile after this short practice.

"You see?" he said. "I'm perfectly fine."

Much stood up and stepped closer.

"Come on, Much", Robin encouraged him. "You can stroke it." He hesitated, suspecting it might bite him, but Robin took his hand and placed it on the horse's neck. It was warm now, which Robin took as a sign of tiredness.

"So what’s your plan?" John asked with a hint of sarcasm, wondering what was on Robin's mind now.

"I will ride to Nottingham", he answered with pride.

"What for?" Tuck asked, terrified, thinking of all the good Christian people who might suffer needless fear at the sight of the monster, as he still believed it must have come from Lucifer himself.

"I want to scare the Sheriff." Robin already had a clear vision of him in his mind-trembling and falling to his kness to beg for mercy.

"Please, don't do that", Marion pleaded, knowing that the angry Sheriff could be unpredictable. Robin, however, had already made up his mind.

"Don't worry about me. I'll be back soon", he assured her, touching her cheek gently before kissing her lips.

Meanwhile, the Sheriff grew more and more impatient. There had been no news of Robin Hood for several days, which worried him greatly. He had sent Gisbourne and his men to keep watch, but the Hooded Mullet seemed to have vanished into thin air.

"Still nothing, my lord", that was all Guy had to say. Yet, the Sheriff was not so naive as to believe that Robin had chosen to stay away and begin a new life as a law-abiding citizen, far from trouble.

"He must be plotting something", he muttered to himself, his eyes burning with fury.

Robin brought the silver horse to life once more. Determined to show the Sheriff that he was stronger than ever, wielding a weapon far more powerful than swords and arrows, he hurtled forward, leaving only dust behind him. The others stood in silence, listening to the sinister rumble until Robin disappeared from sight.

Nottingham was filled with its usual hustle and bustle-merchants calling out, horses neighing and cutthroats looking for easy opportunities. Gisbourne remained on the alert, spying out the slightest trace of the outlaws.

The Sheriff had been making his life a living hell recently, as capturing Robin had become his main goal. Guy, tired of being his whipping boy, took advantage of his absence. He closed his eyes and enjoyed the warmth of the day. The sunlight on his face made him drowsy, and before he knew it, he drifted off. A few moments later a strange hum reached his ears. Expecting a storm, he looked up at the sky, but seeing no sign of approaching rain, he thought he must have imagined it. Nothing, however, could prepare him for what he was about to see.

The disturbing sound grew louder. Gisbourne strained his eyes and spotted something on the horizon, getting closer at a suspicious speed. Then came ear-piercing screams mingling with a noise he could not identify. People bolted in panic, pushing each other aside and dropping whatever they were carrying. After a short while, he saw Robin-riding something that could not have been God's creation. He rubbed his eyes in disbelief, certain he must be dreaming. But then Robin stopped right in front of him, wearing a triumphant smile.

"Welcome, Gisbourne."

"What the hell is that?" Gisbourne stammered, scared to the bone.

"Tell the Sheriff he will never catch me", Robin announced, ignoring the question.

Gisbourne blinked again and again, wondering whether he was suffering from hallucinations. Yet Robin was still there, sitting astride that devil's spawn. Not waiting to see what might happen next, Gisbourne dashed towards the castle, drenched in sweat and groaning loudly. He burst into the chamber and fell at the Sheriff's feet.

"My lord, I have seen a devil!" he shouted, as white as a sheet.

"What are you babbling about?" the Sheriff snapped. "Are you out of your mind?"

"He is... there", Guy raised a trembling hand, pointing at the window.

"Who are you talking about, for goodness' sake?" the Sherif snarled again, his patience wearing thin.

"Robin Hood, my lord", Gisbourne said with the last of his strength. "On that terrible... beast."

The Sheriff stepped up to the window, rolling his eyes, expecting some foolish joke-but what he saw, left him speechless.

"What... what is that?" he asked, terrified. Clutching at the wall, he felt his legs turn to jelly.

"I told you, my lord", Gisbourne replied, not brave enough to look out of the window himself.

"Go and order the gates to be shut", the Sheriff commanded, frightened that Robin might ride into the castle. Yet Guy only curled up on the floor, unable to move.

Thankfully for them, Robin did not intend to cause any more chaos, realizing he had unintentionally frightened innocent people, just as Tuck had predicted.

"I'll be back, Sheriff!" he shouted before turning away and riding off, the beast roaring frightfully behind him.

Marion and the others were on tenterhooks, waiting for Robin's return. Will was drilling a hole in the ground with an arrow, not daring to say what he thought of this recklesness, as he did not want to make Marion worry even more. She was swaying back and forth, her head resting on her kness, staring ahead for the slightest sign that Robin was safe. Much smiled goofily, likely imagining Robin proclaiming himself the Sheriff of Nottingham, while the real one obediently handed his seal over to him. John sighed heavily and spoke at last

"We must see Herne anyway-and keep it secret from Robin."

"You're right, brother", Tuck looked up at the sky, as if expecting God to give them a sign that it was the right decision.

It felt like eternity before they finally heard the familiar whir, gradually growing louder. Robin halted skilfully, cause he had already learnt how to control the horse. He beamed, clearly smug-but the others only looked at him with pity.

"You should have seen Gisbourne's face when he saw us", he bragged, patting the silver horse's neck. "It did great." "Although...", he added apologetically, noticing Tuck's judgemental gaze, "people were frightened as well. "I must play it differently next time", he sighed, still convinced that everything was all right, while the others only exchanged knowing glances.

"I guess that's enough excitement for today", John said, putting his arm around Robin. "Let's get some sleep."

Robin, indeed felt quite exhausted. He stroked the horse once more, as if praising it for a good hunt. After those intense few days, he fell asleep immediately, without dreaming.

Early in the morning, when the sun had just begun shyly to emerge from behind the trees, Much woke first. The silver horse stood by a tree, intriguing and far less frightening than it had been the day before. Careful not to wake the others, Much crept towards it, examining it closely. He even dared to skim his hand over its skin, excited but also a little guilty, as though he were touching forbidden fruit.

Then he slipped back quietly, certain that it would not be approved of. Bearing in mind how furious the others had been with Robin, he did not want to be scolded-or even taken to Herne for punishment.

When everyone was already up, they began pottering around, not mentioning the silver horse at all. Marion, Will, John, Tuck and Nasir gathered together, pretending to be occupied with their morning routine, while wondering how to slip away and go to Herne. Robin, however, could not be bothered with such mundane matters as breakfast. As soon as he opened his eyes, he headed straight for the horse.

"What was it like to ride it to Nottingham?" Much was eager to know every detail, his eyes sparkling like stars. Robin grinned at the memory of Gisbourne bolting in panic.

"Next time, I'll take you with me", he said. "Now the Sheriff will not defeat us." "Oh, that would be so exciting-to ride it together", Much sighed wistfully, considering it the highest honour.

Robin hesitated for a moment, then glanced at the others with a mischievous smile, and asked quietly,

"What would you say if we did it right now?" Much’s eyes widened; he wasn't sure whether Robin really had said that.

"Come on, Much", he urged, noticing his hesitation. "It will be fun."

Robin helped Much mount with the expression of a naughty boy, glancing around to make sure no one was watching. Much could hardly believe he was really straddling that otherworldly being. Robin leapt on as well and instructed him,

"Now, hold on to me tight." He awakened the beast and rushed forward, filled with a sudden sense of freedom. Hearing the noise, Marion dropped a jug, while Will came running after them, as if he believed he could still catch them.

"Robin!" he shouted, his voice filled with overwhelming anger.

Yet all he saw were clouds of dust.

"This has gone too far", John said, no less angry than Will. "Putting his own life in danger is foolish enough... but Much's as well?" He shook his head, unable to understand how Robin could be so blind as to lose his common sense completely.

Much kept his eyes closed, holding on to Robin with all his might, as the landscape flashing past so quickly made him feel sick.

"Don't be afraid, Much!", Robin exclaimed with childish joy. "Isn’t this the best horse in the world?"

After a few minutes of this wild ride, Much got used to the speed and, although still feeling goosebumps, began to enjoy the unusual experience. No other horse in the world could be as fast as this one.

Robin came to a halt, to let the creature rest for a while, glad they had managed to escape before the others could stop them.

"Did you see their faces?" Much laughed, no longer afraid. "I'll tell them there's nothing to fear", he added with enthusiasm, eager to help.

Robin patted the horse, hoping that now everything would be all right.

"I guess we should go back", he sighed, aware of what awaited them-more scolding.

They mounted and set off through Sherwood once again. Robin urged the horse on, while the wind tousled his mullet. And then, all of a sudden, he saw a wall of thick fog ahead. He tried to swerve, but it was too late. For a moment they could see nothing, galloping headlong through a strange, sticky substance.

Just seconds later, it all vanished as quickly as it had appeared. Robin stopped the horse to make sure they were safe.

"What was that, Robin?" Much asked, frightened again.

"I don't know", he replied, unable to understand the strange phenomenon himself.

They seemed to have escape unscathed-apart from being covered in whatever they had just ridden through. Robin looked around, searching for something that might help him understand what had just happened. Still, the forest seemed as normal as ever.

"I guess we just need a bath", he said with a smile, not treating it as something to worry about.

When they returned, they found exactly what they expected.

"For goodness' sake, Robin!" John exclaimed, approaching, followed by the others.

"Oh, please, don't be angry", Robin said, trying to calm them down, already tired of arguing. "You could both have died!", Will join in, telling him off. "We've had enough of that cursed beast! Don't you understand how foolish that was?"

Marion rushed up to Much and hugged him, as if to make sure he was all right, not missing the chance to give Robin an accusing glance. Much, feeling guilty-as it was for his sake that Robin had taken him for a ride-tried up to stand up for him.

"Don't worry", he said. "The silver horse is amazing. You should all try it."

"Forget it, Much", Will snapped, sick and tired of it, seeing that Much had already been won over. "We don't want to hear anything more about it."

Robin stepped closer to Marion with an apologetic look. He felt guilty for disappointing her yet again.

"I'm really sorry", he said, trying to soften her. "I really didn't mean to worry you."

She looked at him with sad eyes, wishing everything could be as it once was.

"You know I love you", he added with a faint smile before kissing her gently.

"I think you should wash", she said, noticing the strange, greasy substance covering his clothes and hair.

"You're right", he agreed. "I'll be right back."

"Anyway, what have you two been doing?" she asked, before he left, still a little cross.

"Oh, it's nothing", he replied, scratching his head and realizing his hair was indeed a complete mess. "We rode into some strange fog that suddenly appeared and then vanished."

"Come on, Much!" he called, not waiting for more questions. "We really need a bath."

The others exchanged questioning glances, suspecting that Robin and Much weren't telling them the whole truth.

They both took off their boots and clothes and jumped into the stream.

"Oh, Robin, do you think they'll forgive us?" Much asked hesitantly, still thrilled after the ride, but also worried after all the arguing.

"They will", Robin said dreamily, imagining how each of them would ask him to take them for a ride.

He dived under to wash the fog away, but although his body already seemed clean, his hair only grew stickier.

"What is that?" he shouted, impatient and irritated. The more he rubbed it, the worse it became.

A tongue-in-cheek story of Robin Hood

The famous outlaw fights against injustice when suddenly some weird mishaps start to take place

Robin Hood, the famous outlaw who fought injustice by making fools out of the Sheriff of Nottingham and Sir Guy of Gisbourne, sat under a tree to have a rest after a strenuous sword practice with his friends known as the Merry Men. His hazel eyes were sparkling with mischief and his hair was swaying gently in the light breeze. It was, to be more precise, a truly dazzling style, his pride and joy, and the reason for his nickname 'The Hooded Mullet'. It suited him perfectly, earning him the title of the most attractive outlaw in the shire.

Venison was roasting over the fire when Robin took a sip from a chalice and, handing it to his companions, said "Herne protect us." As they were gazing upon dancing sparks, resembling little elvish fairies, they felt the magic of the moment. Silent and thoughtful, they went through their rite. It was Herne, the mysterious god of Sherwood Forest, clad in stag antlers, who had chosen Robin for his champion. "You're meant to be people's hero", he once said. "It is your destiny."

On a full stomach, Robin felt a new surge of energy and another idea entered his mind. "Let's hold a little archery contest, shall we?", he suggested with a puckish smile. "We all know you're the most skillful archer in England, Robin, so spare us the effort", Little John said, stretching out on the grass. "We stand no chance with you." Robin likes bragging left and right about his abilities", Will Scarlet added ironically, as he had a reputation for being quick tempered and having a ready tongue. Much pulled a silly face, Nasir said nothing as usual, looking intently around, and Friar Tuck, contented, was patting his full belly.

Robin, though, felt like performing some good shots, so ignoring his friends' snarky comments, reached out for his longbow. A playful smile danced on his lips, as he was, like Will Scarlet rightly noticed, in the mood for showing off. Fully concentrated, with one hand clenched on the bow's handle and the other one gracefully drawing the bowstring, he sent an arrow at the distant target. The Merry Men clapped their hands. "Well done Robin. It was a good shot", Little John exclaimed joyfully. Then another one and another. None of the arrows missed, flying between the trees with loud whizzing. "That was brilliant", Much looked at his 'elder brother' with admiration. Robin smiled proudly, taking a bow like an actor on stage.

Yet, while getting ready for one more splendid performance, a disaster struck. In a mysterious way, Robin's mullet got tangled in the bowstring, much to the Merry Men's delight. Seeing his surprised and frightened look, they laughed boisterously, as befits a comedy audience. Panicked, Robin was doing his best to release his hair, but in vain. It seemed to be firmly attached, as if by means of some magical power.

"Look at Robin's hair!", Little John whooped rolling with laughter, "It's got tangled in the bowstring!" The others followed suit, busting a gut. "Is it a new way of shooting?", Much asked genuinely amused by the sight. "You must teach me that Robin." Even Nasir, not often showing his emotions, couldn't help but enjoy those struggles.

Robin's face fell when, despite his best efforts, his lovely long dark hair remained stuck to the bow. He was a pitiful sight and all his high spirits flew away like the arrows he shot with such ease.

Nearby, a beautiful red-headed girl was looking dreamily at the brook that was murmuring quietly, as if inviting her to have fun. She sat on the grass, and was soaking up warm sunlight, filtering through the trees. It was Marion, Robin's true love, and a member of the group. Now, hearing the Merry Men's hearty laughter, she was wondering what new mischief the boys came up with.

She got up lazily to move back to her friends, and what she saw, left her stunned. Robin was yanking at his hair like crazy to the accompaniment of the Merry Men's guffaw. "Oh Marion help me please", he turned his pleading eyes at her, with a faint glimmer of hope, as she had got him out of trouble many a time before. Although he tried to protect her, she was brave and ready to stay by his side even in danger, which she had already proven.

Now, she approached him with a sympathetic look. "Poor Robin, your beautiful hair has been ruined", she said with concern. But hearing unabated laughter behind her back, and seeing Robin's long face, she found it somehow hilarious herself.

Having given it a closer glance, she knew there was only one solution. "I'm afraid there's nothing we can do, Robin. Your hair must be chopped off", she said with determination. His eyes widened in fear, as if he just heard a prophecy of the end times that was to take place in a matter of seconds. "Oh no, please! Not my mullet!", he exclaimed with terror. "It would be a disgrace to me! And what would Gisbourne say?". In his mind's eye he could already see his nemesis in a blaze of glory, teasing him sorely. "I'd become a laughing stock", he was still unable to believe what had just happened.

Marion, however, sensible and unbending, was about to stop that nonsense. "Do you want to go around with your hair tangled in the bowstring?", she asked, ignoring his desperate cries. Having pulled out small scissors from her pouch she was ready for action. Seeing them in Marion's hand, Robin started to back away, tripping over tree roots, with the bow dangling down his head. "Come here Robin!", Marion ran after him. "You know it can't be helped. You aren't going to walk like this with the bow stuck to your head, are you?" The Merry men had no mercy and started singing cheerfully,

"No more flicking here and there,

Robin's gonna have short hair."

Marion finally caught him as he was thrashing around and clutching his hair in disbelief, desperate to do whatever he could to save his image. "Calm down Robin", she was trying to comfort him. "You'll still look great and be people's hero no matter what." The Merry Men gathered around, with silly smiles still playing on their faces. Robin closed his eyes, feeling that his fate was sealed.

The anticipation for what looked inevitable was growing. Entertaining for some, it was the worst nightmare for him. While Marion was snipping through his locks, he was trying, at all costs, to put aside the terrible thoughts of the Sheriff and Gisbourne laughing at him, which was made harder by his Merry Men, mercilessly dancing and singing their song.

The whole forest joined in the chant. The wind was dancing in the treetops, and the brook was whispering its secrets to those who were willing to listen. "Look at Robin", it seemed to hum.

Although Marion was really tender, Robin was on pins and needles, wishing it was over. When she finally finished the haircut, he saw the long strands lying on the ground. Now, his mullet was just history. Even then, the Merry Men didn't stop making fun.

"Poor man", Will Scarlet didn't spare the sarcasm, "you've parted with your bow. From now on you won't be united." "You'll remain our hero after all", Little John patted his shoulder, winking at his companions. "I like your hair Robin", Much added with a sincere smile. "Now we really look like brothers." But Robin didn't share his view at all. No matter how much he loved him, and all of his friends, he couldn't deal with the loss. He felt like a king who lost his crown.

Marion took his hand to lead him to the nearby stream. "I'm not gonna look at myself", he refused angrily. "My career is over." "Don't be silly", Marion started to grow impatient, "it's just hair." Yet, he was stubborn as a mule and let go of her hand like a grumpy boy who wasn't given a sweet.

He imagined the whole Nottinghamshire mocking him as if it weren't his courage and good heart that everyone admired. He was sitting with his head down, not in the mood for talking.

It started to get dark and soon the forest was shrouded in the moonlight. The trees were rustling quietly, as if they didn't want to bother the hero, lost in his sad thoughts. Or maybe, their whispers were carrying his name in their soothing melody "Robin, Robin, Robin".

A soft mist spread around and they all saw a figure emerging from it. The stag antlers growing out of his head told them it was Herne the Hunter, the god of the forest. He came closer and looked at Robin's miserable face. Though he wasn't smiling, his eyes, if you looked carefully, sparked with hidden amusement. Everyone felt a whiff of magic in the air, as always in Herne's presence. Emanating an aura of mystery and serenity, he touched Robin's shoulder.

"Robin, my dear", he started softly, "I see some misfortune has happened. "It's interesting how our destiny guides our steps sometimes." Even now, Robin remained silent in no mood for moralizing. "I want you to solve a riddle", Herne said in a firmer voice, noticing his defiance.

Every so often, there was a challenge for Robin to take up, invented by Herne, and now another one awaited. "This time, your task is to find out your greatest weakness." He said nothing more and dissolved in the mist.

The following day, Robin still didn't feel any better, but at least his friends left him alone and stopped teasing, seeing Marion's pleading glances. As more skirmishes with the enemies were in store, there was no time for self-pity. The hero, with an offended face, sprang into action.

It happened soon, that a tax collector working for the Sheriff was travelling through the forest with a few men, and Robin saw a chance to regain the money previously taken from the villagers. After a fierce fight, they were all sent away empty-handed and Robin made his way to the village with the loot. But at his sight everyone froze bewildered. "Is it Robin Hood?" "What happened to his mullet?", they whispered among themselves.

Bad news, however, has it to itself that travels very fast, so no wonder that soon after everyone knew about the mishap with the bow. Sadly, even the Sheriff and Guy of Gisbourne, as Robin had predicted, were outdoing one another in inventing the most offensive insults during the feast at Nottingham castle. "Have you seen that poor fellow, calling himself 'The Hooded Mullet', Gisbourne?", the Sheriff's laughter filled the chamber. "Now it's 'The Tangled Mullet', my Lord", Guy replied brilliantly. "Or rather 'The Hooded Bowstring' if he likes to wear it on his head", the Sheriff scoffed, taking a sip of wine.

His biggest wish was to capture 'the king of Sherwood' but, as you can easily guess, it was Robin who always won. You could say the Sheriff messed with the wrong outlaw.

At the same time, in the forest Marion was trying to get back the old Robin she loved. "Don't take all those silly jokes to heart, they'll stop soon", she was talking to him gently. "You're the bravest hero, Herne's son and people's hope. And... my only love", she added, looking into his eyes with affection. At those words, he softened a little, realising he must have been a real pain in the neck. "Besides", Marion added tenderly, "your hair's gonna grow back".

Herne, who hid himself behind the trees to observe his champion, was glad to know she was such a great support for him in this time of trial. He believed that thanks to her judgement and the right approach, his 'son' would become the same person as before.

It took Robin some time to accept his new look (he still refused to see his reflection in the stream, though), but every cloud has a silver lining. The villagers got used to their savior's appearance and the Merry Men got bored with teasing. And when a year passed he finally regained his mullet,as well as his lost confidence. Everyone saw, to their immense relief, that Robin whom they had known in the past, came back. Once again, his joyful laughter echoed in the forest. Only the Sheriff and Guy invariably called him 'The Hooded Bowstring'.

After some time of relative peace, Robin and Gisbourne's paths crossed again. Guy was riding through the forest with his men to the Nottingham castle, and when he stumbled on the outlaws, decided to seize the opportunity to catch them himself. Yet, his ability for rational thinking left a lot to be desired, so some misfortune was to be expected.

The Sheriff, knowing Gisbourne's tendency to look for trouble, rushed to take matters into his hands. Guy was carrying an important letter and no one knew what could happen when he was involved.

Robin, seeing his 'old friend', stood in his way. "Nice to see you, Gisbourne", he said in a mocking voice. "It's getting dark soon and I guess you're scared of darkness. Shouldn't you be in your bed now?" The Merry men, with their longbows ready, were cracking up, hidden in the bushes.

"Catch him!", Gisbourne shouted to his men, trying to save his face. The outlaws and soldiers darted across the clearing to charge into each other. Arrows whizzing and swords clashing filled the forest. After a bitter fight, Robin and Gisbourne found themselves wallowing in the mud, covered in stinky goo. Both were determined to defeat one another, which wasn't easy in those circumstances.

As this was happening, the Sheriff headed out in search of his right-hand. You could hear the hoofbeat in the distance and then see him galloping with anger written all over his face.

Losing no time, Robin jumped into the nearby river and swam away, leaving Gisbourne at the mercy of his furious master. "Where is he, you fool?", the Sheriff was hurling insults at him. "I...I've been attacked my Lord", Guy was excusing himself in a trembling voice. "Attacked?", the Sheriff was roaring. "Is it all you can say? I can't leave you alone for a minute!".

Robin, in the meanwhile, came out dripping with water, but happy to have outsmarted them both once more. And then, a feeling of unease came over him as he realised something weird about his head. But only when he joined his Merry Men and noticed their startled look, did he understand something was up. Having viewed his mullet, they all burst into laughter and tears streamed down their faces. Robin touched it carefully and, horror of horrors, it dawned on him it was all caked with nasty, green, river plants.

"Are you showing up for a fancy dress party?", Little John was laughing like a drain. "You'd be a nice elf." "It's certainly a new fashion trend, we all know Robin likes to shine", Will Scarlet added with a smirk. "I know!", Much exclaimed excitedly as if he had just discovered a secret. "It's a camouflage!" "No, my friends", Friar Tuck joined in the conversation. "He became a martyr to atone for his bad deeds." "That's a great choice, Robin. At least, it matches your green outfit", John couldn't help teasing. "That's enough!", Robin blew his top. "It's not funny at all! If you'd helped me with Gisbourne, it wouldn't have happened". The Merry Men, however, were so amused, that they took no notice of his words.

Robin had no intention whatsoever to hear that any longer. He dived into the stream, trying to wash those awful plants away, but they didn't seem to come off. Even Marion couldn't help chuckling, seeing his desperate attempts and miserable face. No matter how nice he looked in his green tunic, green shirt and tight green trousers, green hair wasn't (to put it mildly) flattering at all.

"Marion, what shall I do?", his eyes were full of despair. He couldn't believe something like that happened again. He hadn't enjoyed his hair for long and another ridiculous adversity took place."Let me see, I'll try to remove it", Marion said in a soothing voice. Sadly, as with the bowstring, his hair was damaged beyond repair. The plants stuck tightly and there was no remedy. "Robin, I'm really sorry, but I'm afraid you have to get another haircut", she gently stroked his face.

Hearing this, he jumped like a scalded cat. "No way!", the echo carried his cries. "I'd be disgraced forever! People forgot about the incident with the bowstring but will never forget this", he hid his face in his hands.

The Merry Men, on the other hand, found the situation truly amusing. "Being 'The Hooded Mullet' isn't your destiny, man", Will Scarlet snickered. The rest of the companions seized the moment. Ignoring their leader's grief, they started to sing the old song.

"No more flicking here and there,

Robin's gonna have short hair."

"There must be the way to fix it", he was clinging on to the last piece of hope. Yet, when Marion realized it was hopeless, she reached for the scissors, paying no attention to his objections. "Be still Robin", she just said, and before he knew it, she started cutting his beloved hair. He could only hear the familiar crunching sound. Once again, his mullet disappeared.

And then, when the last strand found its way to the forest floor, they all felt the magic floating in the air. It could foreshadow only one thing - Herne's appearance. He stood before them, emerging from the mist, clad in his stag antlers and a long deerskin coat.

"I see you're suffering another misfortune", he turned to Robin with sympathy. "But know that suffering makes us stronger." Robin thought otherwise and didn't feel like listening to philosophical speeches, not by a long shot. It struck him as puzzling that each time he wasn't in the mood for friendly gatherings, Herne paid him a visit, as if he wanted to chitchat over a mug of ale.

"Do you remember what I asked you the last time, in similar circumstances, when you lost your priceless mullet?", he continued, with a bit of irony. "You still can find the answer." Having said that, he vanished, leaving everyone baffled, as they expected him to give Robin a clue this time.

In any case, the outlaw had too much on his plate now to engage in solving riddles. He tried hard to hide his new hair under the hood, but, as is so often the case, soon the whole shire was buzzing with rumours. The Merry Men teased him savagely while the Sheriff and Guy gave him a new nickname - 'The Hooded Algae'.

"I wish I'd seen him with those plants in his hair", the Sheriff was imagining Robin covered all in green. "He must have looked like a big frog." "Yes, my Lord", Gisbourne agreed. "He escaped but at least paid for his impudence." As long as they were unable to catch their 'favourite robber', mostly due to Gisbourne's impulsiveness and unwise decisions, the only comfort was poking fun at him.

Marion, on the contrary, was really tender and supportive, although she lost her patience from time to time, seeing his unreasonable behaviour. Now, they were sitting by the bonfire, listening to wood crackling and fading birdsong in the distance. The trees were casting long shadows in the moonlight, making them resemble eerie fairy-tale creatures.

"You don't understand how I feel", Robin was indulging in self-pity. "I was known as 'The Hooded Mullet', admired and respected. Now everyone's laughing at me." "You think too much about your hair", Marion was looking for a way to soothe his wounded pride. "You were chosen by Herne himself to oppose evil, to help the poor and helpless. That's what really matters."

Robin just sighed, missing his long locks blowing in the wind anyway. He knew Marion was right, but couldn't help thinking it would be much easier if he didn't look so... ordinary.

Herne, watching them from behind the trees, was pleased to see Marion being so understanding in Robin's hour of need.Yet again, time healed the wounds, and when a further year passed, his mullet grew back even more beautifully than before. Everyone who met the outlaw, discerned his former charm and cheerful disposition, as if nothing bad had ever happened. But those who think happiness can last forever, must be sorely mistaken.

Some time later, in one of the cities in the shire, a horseback riding competition was to be organised. Many daredevils wanted to compete to showcase their abilities and become famous. Soon after the arrangements started, the event was on everyone's lips.

When the news reached Robin, he wished to take part, as not only was he the best swordsman and archer (although one may doubt it after the bowstring mishap), but also a splendid rider. It wasn't wise for him to flaunt himself in front of the Sheriff, still, he considered it a golden opportunity to thumb his nose at him.

"You must be careful, Robin", Little John advised. "The Sheriff's biggest desire is to catch you. You'd better not push your luck." All the Merry Men agreed it was indeed a bad idea. Even so, Robin didn't mean to take it to heart. He had already imagined himself as the winner, holding the main trophy in his hands, flicking his mullet in full glory.

Finally, the long-awaited day came. The spectators flooded into the city to admire courageous and handsome riders. The streets were buzzing with excitement, merchants' calling out and the clatter of hooves. Both nobles and villagers, were crowding to take the best seats, all of them in a great mood, cheering and waving at their favourites. The grooms were busily saddling up the horses, which were standing in a row and swishing their tails impatiently, while the participants gathered together, observing each other in silence and focus. Among them Robin was waiting, bold and convinced of his high chances of winning.

The route, however, was long and tricky, with one rule being to draw a random horse, making it impossible to predict what lay ahead. Despite this, the hero remained unafraid, sending his charming smiles around like a noble prince.

The Merry Men blended in the crowd, keeping a sharp lookout, with their swords at hand. The riders, too, were ready, waiting for a herald to blow his bugle. At last they set off, amidst the deafening cheers. Robin mounted a beautiful chestnut palfrey and got off like a shot, with his hair flowing in a headlong rush.

At first everything went smoothly. He was galloping through meadows and hills, taking the lead, as if he was born in the saddle. He leapt over the stream and rushed forward like a whirlwind, leaving the others behind.

But if he believed his luck, he had another think coming. Not suspecting anything, he cantered into the forest, nimbly avoiding the trees. Little did he know, though, that his horse, brilliant in open spaces, got spooked by obstacles ahead. In next to no time, it started kicking, unseating poor Robin with a loud neigh. He did a spectacular flip in the air and landed in the bushes. Thankfully, he got out of it unscathed and only his pride was severely injured. Along with his well-tended mullet. As luck would have it, a lot of thistle grew around, and when he emerged, his hair was lovely embellished with its balls.

On top of that, someone recognised him as the wanted robber and relayed it to the Sheriff that his enemy was enjoying himself right under his nose. Furious, he immediately went after him with his men. Robin was running as fast as his legs could carry him, tripping over his own feet.

"Catch him you fools!", the Sheriff roared. "I want to see him in the dungeon!". Humiliated, with thistle entwined in his mullet, Robin was thinking frantically about what to do.

Who, however, if not his Merry Men, could get him out of trouble? Taking advantage of the commotion, they grabbed some horses not used in the competition and rushed to their leader's rescue.

The event turned into a desperate pursuit. The Sheriff's people were galloping hectically among the confused participants, together with the Merry Men, trying to catch up to Robin in the chaos. Luckily, the outlaws reached him first, and by a neck outpaced the soldiers. Robin jumped onto the horse ridden by Little John and they all dashed towards Sherwood, escaping from the mad Sheriff. They only heard his curses behind their backs.

"How could you let him escape?", he grumbled over poor Guy's head, livid with rage. "He's tricked us again and it's all your fault, Gisbourne!" "But at least he learned a lesson my Lord", Guy was trying to excuse his own inefficiency. "His mullet is full of thistle balls and everyone saw it. He'll never regain people's respect. He's over and won't get away with it this time." Although Guy's reasoning was usually flawed, the Sheriff had to agree. "Yes, Gisbourne, you may be right", he said in a calmer voice. "Robin Hood, or, should I say 'The Hooded Thistle', is over now."

Meanwhile, Robin and his friends found themselves safe in Sherwood, after the quick and exhausting escape. He looked like the embodiment of mayhem and despair, with his hair in a total mess.

Now that they were out of danger, the Merry Men vented their anger on him. "It was foolish, Robin!", Will Scarlet said, losing his temper. "You exposed us all to risk." "What if we hadn't been able to help you? Did you think of the consequences?", Little John joined in scolding. "And you left Marion unprotected", Friar Tuck added reproachfully. "You should never have thought about taking a risk just for a moment of glory", Will Scarlet went on.Robin kept his head down, realising the seriousness of his actions. "I'm sorry", he said remorsefully. " I made a terrible mistake."

Everyone clustered to embrace their leader, happy that they were safe and still together. Marion flung her arms around his neck to kiss him. Now that the dust had settled, they all glanced at his mullet and started laughing. "I guess I need a haircut", he said, touching the prickly balls on his head with a smile. "Definitely", Little John admitted with a grin. "You'd only attract insects."

This time, Robin didn't escape Marion's scissors and patiently underwent the process. When she finished, everyone ruffled his short hair, glad that it didn't change him as much as before. He even agreed to see his reflection in the water. "Well, I guess it isn't so bad after all", he said, beaming.

At dusk, all his friends sat by the bonfire, revelling in the warm breeze and the smell of resin. Then, Robin felt someone's touch on his shoulder. When he looked back, he saw Herne the Hunter smiling mysteriously, as if he was hiding a surprise gift behind his back. "My dear Robin", he said softly, "How nice to see you in a good mood."

He looked at the dancing sparks, waiting for Robin to speak. The lingering question asked so long ago still left unanswered.Robin stood up, and without hesitation said, "It was my vanity and overconfidence that made me weak and vulnerable." Herne nodded approvingly, with a warm smile.

At the very same moment, as if touched by a magic wand, Robin's locks returned on their place. Everyone looked at him in amazement, and he himself was no less surprised.

But that wasn't the end of astounding things to happen. "There's something I must tell you", Herne confessed with sparkling eyes. "It was me who caused all those unfortunate events." Robin, Marion and all the Merry Men widened their eyes even more bewildered. "I used my power to tangle your hair in the bowstring, then stick the river plants to it, and finally I unhorsed you during the competition."

Robin was listening to those revelations with his mouth open, thinking it was just a dream and he'd surely wake up any second now, when Herne's voice roused him from his reverie again. "I hope you liked the horse I had chosen for you", he didn't hide his amusement. "But why did you do that?", Robin still couldn't believe what he had just heard. "You were chosen to fight injustice, help the poor and give hope to those who lost it. You're brave, generous and loyal to your friends, but a little humility doesn't hurt. I wanted to test your willingness for sacrifices and see how you face challenges. And I must admit, this time you passed with flying colours."

"Now I understand", Robin accepted Herne's motives without demur. "But why did you give me my mullet back too?", he still didn't get over the shock. "I wanted to reward you for admitting your mistakes. And also... I think it suits you", Herne said, winking at him. "It took me some time to change my approach", Robin smiled a bit embarrassed, "but third time lucky."