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CHAPTER SEVEN

YOU CAN’T SEE THE WOOD FOR THE TREES

WHEN THEY’RE ON FIRE




From a green and open plain, we stepped into a world of shadows. Huge trees towered all around us, their trunks broad as houses. Branches heavy with greenery closed together above us to form a canopy that shut out most of the light. We had arrived in a great green cathedral, a twilight world, where occasional shafts of sunlight dropped through the canopy like spotlights on a leafy stage. The air was full of birdsong, and rich with forest scents. It was like returning to a home I hadn’t realised I missed so much.

“Where is this?” I said finally, and my voice seemed a very small thing in such a magnificent setting.

“Welcome to the twelfth century, and Sherwood Forest,” said Amanda. “Home to Robin Hood and his Merrie Men.”

I couldn’t keep from grinning. “You take me to the best places. This is Sherwood? I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“The forests of your time are small, tame things. Robin Hood’s Sherwood covers acres beyond counting, and its secret paths and trails are known only to those who’ve left civilisation behind. We’re in outlaw territory, the last refuge of those driven outside the law. This is where the wild people live.”

“There is magic here,” I said. “I can feel it, like a song my heart remembers.”

“Sherwood is the last of the really old places,” said Amanda. “Where nature and supernature still walk hand in hand.”

“I hate to show my ignorance but I’m going to anyway,” I said. “Most of what I know about this period I learned from watching television, and I’m ready to accept that Richard Greene in The Adventures of Robin Hood may not have been entirely historically accurate. A little background would not go unappreciated.”

“I feel like I should be wearing a peaked cap with Tour Guide on it,” said Amanda. “Very well . . . King Richard III, called the Lionhearted because he insisted, left his brother John to sit on the Throne and keep it warm while he went off to play hero on Crusade. Prince John repaid this trust by declaring himself king. Now no one is safe and no one has any rights, except to be taxed, exploited, and worked to death.

“Only Robin Hood and his followers stand against tyranny. Sherwood has become the last remaining safe haven for people driven from their homes by injustice, or taxes they have no hope of paying. Robin is the last champion of what England is supposed to be, and the secret masters hate him for it.”

“Are we talking history or legend here?”

“Both,” said Amanda. “Robin Hood was real, just like King Arthur, until the great rewriting removed him from history. But once again Robin survived as a story, because what he stood for meant so much to people that they refused to give him up. The outlaw who took from the rich to give to the poor, except it was never about the money. Robin took power from the rich, so he could give it back to the people.”

“What’s he like?” I said.

“I don’t know,” said Amanda. “I’ve never been here before.”

I looked at her. “You knew Boudicca, and Hrothgar, and Arthur.”

She shrugged. “I get around, but I can’t be everywhere.”

The look in her eye strongly suggested I shouldn’t ask any more, so I just sighed internally and moved on.

“Robin Hood was always on the television when I was growing up. Riding through the glen every week, a hero and his one true love, fighting the good fight along with the best friends a boy could imagine. But how are we supposed to find the real Robin Hood in a forest that looks like it goes on forever? It’s not like there are any signposts saying This way to Robin Hood’s secret camp! Be sure to visit our gift shop.

And then I stopped, and glowered around into the forest gloom. Amanda looked at me patiently.

“What’s the matter, Jack?”

“I’m just trying to work out which way the next attack will come from,” I said. “Because wherever you take me something unpleasant always turns up, determined to really ruin my day.”

Amanda smiled. “I ask so much of you, but you never let me down.”

She stepped closer and we stared into each other’s eyes, but she didn’t say what I was hoping to hear. Instead, she turned away and set off along a narrow trail that looked no different from any of the others. And I went after her, because there was nowhere else I wanted to be.

<line space>

The trail meandered along between the massive tree-trunks, as though it hoped it wouldn’t be noticed if it didn’t make too big an impression. I kept a watchful eye on the surrounding shadows, but the forest seemed surprisingly peaceful. Amanda didn’t have anything to say, so after a while I went for a safe if somewhat obvious opening.

“What can you tell me, about the real Robin Hood?”

“The man who gave up everything to protect others,” said Amanda, slipping easily into lecture mode. “He’s actually more of a danger to the secret masters than Arthur ever was, because Robin Hood exists to challenge authority. He encourages people to think for themselves, and live their own lives.”

“Yes . . . ” I said. “But what’s he like?”

“An outlaw and an adventurer, and everything a hero should be!” She broke off, as she realised I wasn’t giving her my full attention. “You’ve got that worried look again, Jack, even though I keep telling you it doesn’t suit you. What’s wrong this time?”

“We’re not alone,” I said quietly, trying to glower in every direction at once without making it too obvious. “Something is moving along with us.”

“Probably the local wildlife,” Amanda said briskly. “They’re just curious. If we don’t bother them, they won’t attack and devour us.”

“I was thinking more about the secret masters,” I said. “They’re already hit us with the two biggest bogeymen of the modern age, the Men In Black and the alien Greys. What does that leave, feral clowns?”

“Oh, I love clowns!” said Amanda, clapping her hands together.

“Then you are the only person in the whole entire world who does,” I said. “Why are the secret masters so determined to stop us?”

Amanda shrugged lightly. “Now they’ve taken control of the Department, and brought in Emil’s people, it would seem they’re finally ready to start their endgame.”

“What would that involve?”

“No more lurking in the shadows,” said Amanda. “No more pulling strings. They’re ready to take over.”

“And do what?”

“Rule,” Amanda said simply. “This isn’t about politics, or philosophies. They just want everyone else to do what they’re told.”

“But who are they?” I said. “When are you going to tell me who is trying so hard to kill us?”

“When you’re ready.”

“I feel a sulk coming on,” I said.

“And it’s such an attractive look on you,” said Amanda.

The trail wound back and forth, in no obvious hurry to take us anywhere. Time passed, in a great green haze. The huge trees didn’t lose any of their overbearing presence, but I couldn’t keep being impressed. It was wearing me out.

“Are we nearly there yet?” I said.

“Don’t start,” said Amanda.

“What makes Sherwood so important to everyone?”

“The forest is Robin’s Camelot,” said Amanda. “One of the legendary settings that inspire us to be better than we are. In Arthur’s time the king protected people from monsters; here the king is the monster, and people are learning to protect themselves.”

“Couldn’t have put it better myself,” said Robin Hood.

Amanda and I slammed to a halt as he stepped out onto the trail ahead of us. Tall and lean, and good-looking in a bluff country way, he had a mane of long blond hair and blue eyes sparkling with mischief. His clothes were a mixture of dull greens and browns, perfect camouflage for a forest. He carried a longbow slung over his shoulder, a quiver of arrows on his back, and a sword at his hip. A man who didn’t feel safe even in his own outlaw hideout.

Half a dozen men clothed just like Robin stepped out of the shadows to surround me and Amanda. They all had arrows pointed at our hearts, and not one of them was smiling. I decided I’d had enough of being impressed, so I ignored the outlaws and fixed Robin with my best hard stare.

“Tell your men to point their arrows somewhere else, or I’ll show them a trick Merlin taught me.”

If you’re going to bluff, go big. Robin’s smile actually widened a little. He gestured for his men to lower their arrows, and they did so reluctantly. I nodded easily to Robin, as though I’d never expected any other outcome.

“Good ambush. The outfits really do help you blend in.”

“Along with our woodcraft skills,” said Robin. “I swear I spend more time training people how to move without being heard, than I do teaching them how to use their weapons.”

I noted a certain amount of eye-rolling amongst Robin’s men. They’d clearly had to listen to this lecture many times before.

“If you stopped us for tribute,” I said. “I doubt we’ve anything on us you’d want.”

“Relax,” said Robin. “You’re in no danger.”

I looked at the outlaws. “Really?”

“They’re just being protective,” said Robin. “Even though I keep asking them not to. Put the arrows away, boys. These are the ones Herne told us about.” He fixed Amanda and me with a charming smile. “You must forgive my outlaws. It’s either that or shout at them a lot, and I just don’t have the energy. You are to be our honoured guests, Jack Daimon and Amanda Fielding!”

He laughed at the surprise in our faces, but it was a kind and pleasant sound.

“Herne is our mage and advisor. He foresaw your arrival, and told me exactly where I needed to be to find you.”

I looked at Amanda. “Herne?”

She shrugged. “Some local forest god . . . ”

She broke off, because the outlaws were sniggering and elbowing each other. Robin didn’t lower himself to join in, but looked like he wanted to.

“Herne isn’t any kind of god,” he said. “More like a supernaturally gifted pain in the arse. But there’s no denying he knows things. He said it was important that I come and meet you, because you’re going to save us.”

“From what?” I said.

“He didn’t say,” said Robin. “Which is annoying in so many ways, and just typical of Herne. Sometimes I think he’s the wisest man I’ve ever known; the rest of the time I’m convinced he’s just another freeloader with a good line in impressive chat. But never mind him, until we absolutely have to. It’s good to meet you.”

“It’s an honour to meet the legendary Robin Hood,” I said.

“I’m no more a legend than Herne is a god,” he said easily. “Just a man, trying to do what’s right. Come with me, and I’ll take you to meet Herne. Perhaps between us we can get some straight answers out of him.” He looked round at his outlaws. “Why are you still here? Get back to camp and make sure everyone’s safe, until I return.”

His men nodded quickly, and disappeared back into the shadows as though they belonged there. Robin set off through the forest like a man strolling in his own private garden, and Amanda and I followed after him at our own pace.

Amanda leaned in close. “What were you going to do if your bluff hadn’t worked?”

“Hide behind you,” I said.

“So it was a bluff,” said Robin. “I am relieved.”

I shot him a reproachful look. “You have good ears.”

“All part of surviving in the wild,” he said easily. “Sherwood makes people into fighters, because they wouldn’t survive here if they weren’t. And of course, it does help to keep the sheriff out.”

“What’s he like?” I said.

“A cold man,” said Robin. “Always thinking, and plotting. I sometimes feel the most useful thing I can do is keep that appallingly clever mind focused on me, instead of coming up with more schemes to oppress the people.”

“Why is that so important to him?” said Amanda.

“Because he doesn’t have anything else, except to be sheriff,” said Robin. “And he’s always worrying the people will rise up and take it away from him. Of course, if he didn’t oppress them so much the thought would never occur to them, but I could never make him understand that.”

“You know him well?” I said.

“We grew up together.”

“You were friends?” said Amanda.

Robin frowned. “I thought so. He must be very lonely these days, because he’s driven away anyone who might have cared. All that’s left are the people who want something from him, and unfortunately he’s smart enough to know that.”

“I can’t get any sense of where Herne is,” Amanda said abruptly. “Which is . . . odd. Where are you taking us, Robin?”

“Herne has his own special hideout, deep underground,” said Robin. “He prefers to live apart, which is probably just as well given how much he unnerves everyone. I don’t think he means to; it’s just that he doesn’t see the world the way the rest of us do.”

“What can you tell us about him?” I said.

“Oh, Herne has been around for ages,” said Robin. “When I first led my people into Sherwood in search of a safe haven he was already here, waiting to teach me what I needed to know to protect people from the sheriff. How to create the legend of Robin Hood and his Merrie Men, that helps keep the authorities at bay, because it’s a lot harder to fight a myth than a man. There are times when I wonder if Herne is the real legend of Sherwood Forest.

“Some say he was once a great noble, who shot a stag the king of the Fae had marked for his own. Oberon invited Herne to join him for a night of feasting, in his court under the hill. But when Herne emerged into the daylight again he found Oberon had taken his vengeance after all, because hundreds of years had passed in the world above.

“Others insist he’s a sorcerer, and the son of the Fallen One. And some believe he’s the spirit of the woods and as old as the trees. He is wise and powerful and knows many things, including some that haven’t happened yet.”

“Sounds a lot like Merlin,” I said.

Robin shot me a warning look. “Don’t use that name around Herne. He gets very tetchy. I think he’s jealous of a legend even greater than his.”


After a while, we came to a dark river that wound between the trees in a slow and purposeful way. Mists rose up from the surface of the waters, like a curtain between our world and another. All the birds had stopped singing, and the sudden quiet had an unnatural feel. Amanda frowned, but didn’t say anything. Robin led us down the slippery mud of the riverbank to a hole wide enough to admit a coach and horses. He stopped before the opening, and looked back at us.

“This is where we step out of the world we know, and into Herne’s underworld.”

He gestured for us to follow him into the opening, and a cool blue light manifested to illuminate our way. We stumbled down a steeply sloping earth tunnel, with me close behind Robin, and Amanda so close behind me I could feel her breath on the back of my neck. The tunnel walls were tightly packed earth with no support timbers, just the occasional tree root curling out to block the way. Our feet slipped and skidded on the mud floor, and the ceiling was so low we had to keep ducking our heads. Almost as though the entrance to Herne’s lair had been specifically designed to discourage visitors.

Eventually the tunnel opened out to reveal a huge underground cavern. Stalactites and stalagmites dropped down and rose up, like a forest confused by gravity, gnarled multi-coloured columns, shining fiercely with their own phosphorescence. The cavern walls were studded with glowing stones, and gleaming veins of gold and silver. In the middle of it all was a great pool of water, darker than the night, that didn’t reflect any of the cavern’s light. It was like looking at a hole in the world.

Robin came to a halt, and Amanda and I moved in beside him.

“It doesn’t look like there’s anyone home,” I said.

“Herne will make himself known, when he’s ready,” said Robin. “He does so love to make an entrance.”

I studied the cavern carefully, trying to get some sense of who would want to live in such a place. Furs and rugs covered the stone floor, along with a few mismatched chairs and a great nest of crumpled blankets. Half-eaten meals had been left to congeal on wooden platters.

“We do our best to look after Herne,” Robin said quietly. “He’s very good at being magical and wise, but no use at all when it comes to practical things. I look down here at least once a week, just to make sure he’s eating something.”

He broke off as slow heavy ripples moved across the surface of the pool, as a man’s head appeared out of the dark waters. Cool thoughtful eyes fixed on me as the rest of the body rose up, untouched by any drop of water. Until Herne stood calmly on the surface of the pool, as though it was the most natural thing in the world.

Herne was Merlin, only decades younger than the last time I’d seen him.

He was wearing silver trousers tucked into calfskin boots, and a yellow silk shirt left open to show off a hairy chest. His shoulder-length hair was jet black, as was his drooping moustache and long sideburns. The outfit was topped off with a billowing leaf-green cape. He looked like the god of prog rock.

“Very distinctive,” I said finally.

“The people here expect me to look like a sorcerer,” Herne said proudly. “I saw this outfit in the future, and thought it would serve.”

He walked toward us, and his feet didn’t produce a single ripple on the surface of the waters. He stepped onto the cavern floor to join us, and made a point of bowing to Amanda and me. Robin relaxed a little. Since Herne knew us, we must be someone important.

“Good to see you again,” Herne said happily. “I’ve been remembering this moment for ages.”

“What have you been doing since we last saw you?” said Amanda. “And how many other people have you been?”

“Not in front of the civilians,” Herne said quickly. “You are up to date on current events? Good, good, I hate it when they make me do the exposition. You’ve arrived at a significant moment. The sheriff has called on unnatural help to wipe out Robin and his people, once and for all.”

“You never told me that!” said Robin.

“Didn’t I?” Herne said mildly. “I know I meant to. That’s the trouble with remembering things before they happen. Half the time cause and effect aren’t even talking to each other.” He turned back to Amanda and me. “The sheriff has made contact with the secret masters. Or possibly vice versa.”

“The ones from here and now?” I said. “Or those in the future?”

“Hard to tell,” said Herne. “I have a difficult relationship with Time. Like a problem relative you just have to put up with.”

“Do you know who the secret masters are?” I said. “Or will be?”

“Yes, and no,” said Herne.

“You haven’t changed,” I said. “And you have no idea how annoying that is.”

“Trust me, he knows,” said Amanda.

“And you’re not much better,” I said.

“But I’m loveable,” said Amanda.

Herne pouted. “I can be loveable . . . ”

“What are you all talking about?” said Robin, just a bit desperately.

“Damned if I know,” I said. “You get used to it.”

“Let’s not get childish,” Herne said reprovingly. “The point is the bad guys want Robin Hood out of the way.”

“What have I done to upset these people?” said Robin.

“You have a mind of your own,” said Herne. “And, you have accepted nonhumans into your band of outlaws.”

“Why wouldn’t I?” said Robin. “This is their Sherwood, as well as mine.”

Herne beamed at me. “You see? He really doesn’t understand why anyone would have a problem with that. Isn’t he marvellous? Anyway, a terrible army is coming, to destroy Sherwood forest and slaughter every living thing in it.”

“It’s going to do what?” Robin said loudly. “Why didn’t you warn me about this before?”

“Because it wasn’t the right time,” said Herne. “Just be grateful I remembered to tell you at all.”

“When, exactly, is this army going to arrive?” said Robin, in a voice brimming over with self-control.

“Hmm? Oh, quite soon actually,” said Herne. “That’s why Jack and Amanda are here. Yes! That’s why I didn’t tell you before! Because you couldn’t do anything until they got here. And, I didn’t want to worry you.”

“You are too good to me,” said Robin.

“I am, aren’t I?” said Herne, nodding cheerfully. “You don’t deserve me.”

“I often wonder what I did to deserve you,” said Robin. “Are Jack and Amanda here to save us from this army that’s coming?”

“Well . . . yes, and no,” said Herne.

Robin looked at me. “You’re right. That really is irritating.”

“Amanda’s just as bad,” I said.

“Who do you think I learned it from?” said Herne, just a bit unexpectedly.

“Can you at least tell me what kind of army we’re talking about?” said Robin. “The sheriff’s men, or King John’s soldiers?”

“Unfortunately, none of the above,” said Herne. “The secret masters create their own foot soldiers, designed to break their opponents’ spirit before the fighting even begins. You must prepare your people, Robin. Horror is coming to Sherwood.”

“How long do we have?” said Robin.

“Ooh . . . Hours!” said Herne.

He strode out of the cavern, snapping his cloak around him and leaving us to catch up as best we could.


When we finally emerged from the cave opening and back into Sherwood’s twilight, Herne produced a pair of seriously dark sunglasses and put them on with a flourish. He caught me staring at him, and sniffed haughtily.

“You try living underground for centuries and see what that does to your pupils. Besides, I like shades. They’re stylish, they’re cool, they’re . . . me.”

He scrambled up the steep riverbank with surprising agility. Robin looked after him, and then turned to me and Amanda.

“I’m assuming what he says makes sense to you.”

“Some of the time,” I said.

“Well, that’s good to know,” said Robin. “Any idea on how you’re going to save us all?”

I looked at Amanda, but she just shrugged and set off up the muddy riverbank after Herne.

“Nothing springs to mind,” I said to Robin. “But I knew an invading army would turn up at some point.”

“You can see the future as well?”

“No,” I said. “It’s just bitter experience.”

I climbed the riverbank with as much dignity as I could manage, and Robin followed after me. Once we caught up with Herne and Amanda, Robin took the lead and we followed him through the great trees. Herne just wandered along, happily interested in everything but saying nothing, and after a while Amanda and I moved in on either side of him and slowed him down so we could talk privately.

“What are you doing here?” I said.

“It’s my job to inspire Robin, just as I inspired Arthur when I was Merlin,” said Herne. “I bring out the best in people, whether they like it or not. I don’t receive nearly enough credit for all the heroes I make possible.”

“Why do you look so much younger?” I said.

“The times change, and I change with them. My memory isn’t the only thing that’s out of synch with history.”

“Why the new name?”

“Too much baggage associated with the old one,” he said patiently. “Too many expectations.”

“Can you still throw those lightings around, to defend Robin and his people from what’s coming?” I said bluntly.

“No,” said Herne. “I draw my power from the genius loci of the land, the magical wellsprings of creation. And they’re running out. That’s why I came to Sherwood: the last living repository of ancient magic.”

Robin dropped back to join us. “So, Herne used to be Merlin. Are the two of you anyone special?”

“No one you’d have heard of,” said Amanda. “Jack and I are here to help. Settle for that.”

“And people think I’m in charge around here,” said Robin Hood.


A warm glow of torchlight appeared ahead of us. Guards stepped out of the shadows to challenge us, and then fell back again when they recognised Robin. They also knew Herne, though they didn’t seem nearly as happy to see him.

Robin Hood’s camp wasn’t at all what I’d expected. No protective barricades, and no standing structures at all: just a wide-open clearing with bedrolls and blankets, stacks of weapons, and half a dozen cooking fires. People bustled back and forth, performing all the small necessary chores that keep a self-sufficient community going. A great cry of welcome went up to welcome Robin back, but he took it all quite casually, smiling and nodding as he made his way through crowds of men, women and children in ragged clothes. Hunger and hardship showed clearly in their bruised eyes and haunted faces.

Some of the outlaws looked suspiciously at Herne, and a few crossed themselves. They weren’t too sure about Amanda or me either, but no one challenged our right to be there. Robin quietly spread word that trouble was on its way, and half the people broke off from what they were doing to arm themselves and join the perimeter guards. Interestingly, where Arthur would have given orders Robin just made it sound like simple common sense.

He led us to the far side of the clearing, where heavy sheets hung from tree branches to form a makeshift tent. Herne drifted away, lost in his own thoughts, and Robin shook his head.

“You have to make allowances for him. It’s either that or end up as crazy as he is. Let him wander where he wants; my people will keep an eye on him, and make sure he doesn’t get into any trouble. You look a bit disappointed by my camp, Jack. Have you been listening to those ballads? We always have to be ready to move on, so the sheriff’s men can’t find us. Even the best spies and informers can’t reveal where we are, only where we used to be.”

“Has the sheriff ever sent an army in after you before?” I said.

Robin frowned. “He usually has more sense. By the time his soldiers have travelled any distance, my best archers are always ready to teach the invaders that numbers and armour are no match for the silent death that strikes from ambush. Now, come and meet my Merrie Men.”

“Why are they called that?” I said.

“Because there’s nothing like killing bullyboys in chainmail to put a smile on your face,” said Robin Hood.

He led us into the tent, to meet the outlaws who were almost as famous as he was. And just like Arthur’s knights, they were nothing like the stories.

Maid Marion the Fair turned out to be Marion the Fae, a tall and stately elf with long silver hair, purple eyes and pointed ears. Slender as a greyhound and almost supernaturally beautiful, she wore a long gown made from camouflage material, but on her it looked stylish. The scabbarded sword on her hip looked like it belonged there. She grabbed hold of Robin the moment he entered the tent, kissed him soundly, and then pushed him away so she could glare at him.

“Why must you listen to that mad old sorcerer? You know he never tells you anything you want to hear.”

“That’s exactly what I need from him,” Robin said calmly. “You shouldn’t be so hard on the man, Marion. He’s done a lot for us.”

“For his own reasons. Which he has never seen fit to explain.”

“Everyone comes to Sherwood for their own reasons,” said Robin. “And Marion . . . Please don’t try to kill him again. If you do and he notices, he might get upset, and I don’t want to end up bedding down beside a really large frog.” He smiled apologetically at me and Amanda. “Marion can be very protective.”

“Somebody has to be,” said Marion. “I don’t want to end up bedding down next to a corpse. They get cold so quickly.”

Everyone pretended they hadn’t heard that.

Little John turned out to be a giant. (Outlaw humour.) Even sitting down, he still towered over everyone else, and took up the space where a back wall should have been. He looked like he’d be a good twelve feet tall on his feet, and wore more camouflage material than all the others put together. His entire body appeared to be made out of solid muscle, and he had a square face with skin like fissured stone.

“This is my living battering ram,” Robin said fondly. “Slow to anger, but terrible in his rage.”

Little John bowed briefly, and then fixed his gaze on Amanda. When he spoke his voice was a deep rumble, like approaching thunder.

“I remember you, lady. It has been long and long since you last walked among my kind.”

I stared at Amanda. “Does everyone know you?”

“Everyone who matters,” she said cheerfully.

Friar Tuck was the only one who looked the way I thought he should. A fat and jolly soul in a faded monk’s habit liberally spattered with food and wine stains, he had a red face, a shaven tonsure, and a smile for everyone. He shook my hand heartily, his oversized paw swallowing mine without doing any real damage.

“Welcome to Sherwood, my boy!” he said. “Too cold when it isn’t too hot, and raining in between. The food’s monotonous, and you can’t get a decent bottle of wine for love nor money and God knows I’ve tried. I have to perform communion with mead I make myself. You must try some, if you’ve a strong stomach. I also practice a little white magic on the side, but don’t let that worry you.”

He fixed Amanda with a thoughtful look, and didn’t offer to shake her hand. “It seems to me that I have read about you, my lady, in some very old books. Are you what I think you are?”

“Oh, I’m so much more than that,” said Amanda. “What kind of white magic?”

“Nothing I would be ashamed to admit to my God,” said the friar. “I only ever use the magics of nature to protect people, but it was still enough to get me thrown out of the monastery.”

Everyone in the tent had some kind of smile. Robin fixed the friar with a sardonic look.

“That is not why they kicked you out, Tuck.”

The friar nodded wryly. “I always was a little too fond of the earthly appetites. I fear the final straw was when an outraged father came hammering on the monastery door, shouting my name. I thought it best for all concerned if I just slipped quietly away. Now here I am, doing penance for my many sins. Not at all the life of quiet reflection I had in mind for my later years, but good company makes it bearable.”

“I am Will Scarlett.”

The dry whispering voice came from a far corner, where Scarlett sat half hidden in the shadows. A rangy aristocratic sort, he had dark hair and eyes and a surprisingly pale face for someone who lived outdoors. He dressed all in black and didn’t look in the least interested in shaking hands.

“What brought you to Sherwood?” I said, just to be polite.

He smiled slowly, showing pointed teeth.

“I’m a vampire. And like the good friar, I am here to do penance.”

“But . . . it’s still daylight,” I said.

“It’s never more than twilight in Sherwood,” said Will. “I can live with that.” He turned his cold dark eyes on Amanda. “You see me as I really am.”

“Yes,” Amanda said steadily. “Glamours have no power over my eyes.”

She dropped a hand onto my arm and suddenly the dark and brooding aristocrat was gone, as my Sight showed me a decaying corpse in ragged grave clothes. He looked like what he was: a dead thing that had dug its way out of the ground to feast on the living. Amanda removed her hand and the illusion returned. Will looked at us coldly.

“How can we be sure you’re not the sheriff’s creatures, sent here to spy on us?”

I looked to Robin, but he just stared calmly back, interested to see what I would do. And that suited me fine. I’d spent most of my time among Arthur and his knights feeling seriously out-classed, but I could handle something as straight-forward as a vampire.

I smiled easily at Will and gestured at the backpack on my shoulder. “I am the Outsider. Which means I don’t take any crap from the supernatural. In this pack I have a crucifix blessed by a living saint, a wooden stake from the tree Jesus planted at Glastonbury, and a squirt gun full of holy water. But I think I’ll go with an old reliable.”

I reached into my pack, and brought out the athame. Its blade glowed brightly, as its presence filled the tent. Marion had to turn her face away, Tuck crossed himself, and Little John growled dangerously. Will sat very still.

“You know what this is,” I said. “I could kill everyone in this tent before any of you could get to your feet . . . but that’s not what I’m here for.”

I put the witch knife back in my pack, and everyone relaxed a little. I looked at Robin, and found he was still smiling.

“That was a test,” I said accusingly.

“Of course,” said Robin. “I haven’t lasted this long by trusting every stranger who wanders into Sherwood.”

“Even though Herne vouched for us?” said Amanda.

“Herne . . . isn’t always entirely reliable,” said Robin.

“I told you that,” said Marion.

“And I listen to absolutely everything you tell me,” said Robin.

I turned back to Will. “Does everyone in the camp know you’re a vampire?”

“Of course,” said Will. “They know they have nothing to fear from me. I don’t drink . . . people.”

“Will is one of our strongest weapons,” Robin said firmly. “I trust him implicitly.”

“Yes, well, that’s you, Robin,” said Tuck. “I’m the one kept busy blessing improvised crosses.”

“It does help that we’re surrounded by trees,” Marion said solemnly. “So we’re never far from a wooden stake if we need one.”

“Stop teasing him,” said Robin.

“Tell him to stop being a vampire,” said Marion.

Robin shook his head. “I swear no one around here listens to a word I say.”

Will surprised me then, with a brief bark of laughter. “Remind me again of the particular qualities you bring to our little group?”

“I have no special abilities,” said Robin. “So I have to settle for being smart. And that is why I’m the leader of this merry band of outlaws and renegades.”

“We let you be leader so the sheriff’s men will always aim at you first,” said Tuck. “Allowing the rest of us a chance to get away.”

“And if we should happen to fall on hard times, we can always turn you in for the reward,” said Marion.

“We wouldn’t do that,” said Little John, in his deep rumble of a voice.

“I’m relieved to hear it,” said Robin.

“Not with the amount as low as it is,” said the giant.

Everyone laughed, including Robin. And then he brought the Merrie Men up to speed on what Herne had told him. They all listened intently. They might not care for Herne, but they trusted his warnings.

“Apparently we only have a few hours before this unknown army enters Sherwood,” said Robin.

“Let them come,” said Marion, her long-fingered hand dropping to the pommel of her sword. “We will bury their bodies among the tree roots, to nourish the forest.”

“Has anyone seen my club?” rumbled the giant. “I’m sure I had a club when I came in here.”

Tuck frowned. “Herne wouldn’t be putting the wind up us if it was just another incursion by the sheriff’s men.”

“I like it when he sends in soldiers,” said Will. “They break so easily.”


Robin set to making plans, so Amanda and I left him to it. We took a stroll around the camp, but there didn’t seem to be anything we could do to help, so we ended up warming our hands at one of the cooking fires. The twilight was darkening into night, and there was a definite chill on the air. Herne came over to join us. Somewhere along the way he’d lost his sunglasses, and the light from the dancing flames invested his face with sinister shadows.

“Having fun?” he asked. “Making new friends? Good, good . . . Try not to develop a close relationship with anyone; a lot of these people aren’t going to survive what’s coming.”

“Do you know who’s going to die?” I said.

“No, or I’d stay well clear of them,” said Herne. “I remember the shape of the future, but not the details. And having you two around disturbs the pattern even more, because you don’t belong here.”

“I thought we were supposed to save the day?” I said.

He shrugged. “Apparently.”

I turned to Amanda. “What makes Robin Hood and his Merrie Men so special that they have to be removed from history?”

“Because this is the last time all the different races will gather together in common cause,” said Amanda.

“The Merrie Men are all that remain of their kind,” said Herne. “The last elf, the last giant, and the last vampire. All the others are gone. I do miss them. They were so colourful.”

“Hopefully, you’re the last of your kind,” said Marion.

None of us had noticed the elf coming over to join us. She glared at Herne, who seemed quite used to it.

“There has never been anyone like me,” he said calmly. “And never will be again.” He paused, to look at Amanda. “Unless you know otherwise.”

She ignored him, staring into the flames, so I turned to Marion. “Are you really the last of the elves?”

“If there was another of my kind anywhere in this land, I would know it,” said Marion. “The Faerie War destroyed the Light and the Dark.”

“How did you survive?” I said.

She smiled bleakly. “Just lucky, I guess.”

“Little John walked all the way here from Cornwall,” said Herne. “He couldn’t find anyone who’d even heard of another giant for generations. As for Will Scarlett . . . ”

“Taking my name in vein?” said the vampire, appearing suddenly beside Marion. She jumped a little, and punched him hard in the ribs. He didn’t seem to feel it.

“There used to be so many of my kind,” he said, staring at the shadows outside the camp. “Haunting the forests of the night, feared by all. But I haven’t talked with anything like me in a very long time.”

“What do you feed on?” I said bluntly.

“Deer,” said Will. “Their blood is very nourishing. Full of iron.”

“And the occasional sheriff’s man?” I said.

“No,” said Will. “I can’t afford to be tempted.”

Robin joined us, and Marion moved in close beside him. Their hands found each other without either of them having to look.

“Everyone is getting ready to fight,” said Robin. “Have there been any sightings?”

“No one has entered the forest,” said Marion.

“They won’t hide themselves,” said Herne. “When the horror begins, you’ll know.”

Everyone looked at him, and he shrugged. “Don’t shoot the messenger.”

“Don’t tempt me,” said Marion.

“I think it’s time we all had something to eat and drink,” said Robin.

I looked at him incredulously. “How can you even think of eating, when people are coming to kill you?”

“People are always coming to kill me,” Robin said reasonably. “That’s the outlaw life.”

He went off to oversee the cooking. Not because anyone needed his help, but because they found his presence reassuring. Herne also moved from one cooking fire to another, tasting things and offering carefully considered recommendations, which were universally ignored. Marion stalked the camp perimeter, keeping the guards on their toes. Their startled shrieks could be heard all over the camp. Tuck rolled a great barrel of mead across the clearing, refusing every offer of help. Will Scarlett disappeared back into the shadows. Little John sat down in the middle of the camp, and small children swarmed all over him as though he was the best toy ever.

Soon there was food enough for everyone, and I could tell from the looks on many faces that this wasn’t something they were used to. We all sat down around the fires, and Amanda and I were given places of honour next to Robin and Marion. There were no plates or cutlery; food was just dumped in people’s laps, and everyone used their hands. I did my best not to be a wimp about it. Mead came in rough wooden cups: a thick golden brew with things swimming in it. Everyone was eating and drinking and talking at the top of their voices, all at the same time.

And afterwards, there was dancing. Musicians raised a joyous noise, and people went whirling and stamping around the blazing fires. Dancing for the sheer joy of it, for the hell of it, for the simple delight of being alive. Bare feet pounded on the packed earth, and hair flew wildly as heads whipped back and forth. Dancing because what else was there to do, in the face of what was coming.

At first, I was too self-conscious to join in. I’ve never been much of a dancer, and this felt like the outlaws’ moment. I watched Amanda dance, swinging energetically from one partner to another, her face gleaming with sweat as she laughed out loud. It seemed to me that she had never looked more beautiful, or more alive. Suddenly she burst out of the crowd to stand before me. She thrust out a hand and I took it, and she pulled me into the heaving throng.

I don’t know how long we danced, stamping our feet to the rhythm of the music. She never let go of me and I never let go of her, and I had never felt so happy. At some point the music slowed down, and all across the clearing couples held each other close, lost in each other’s eyes. I held Amanda in my arms, and she turned her face up to mine; when we finally kissed it felt like the moment my whole life had been leading up to.

The music stopped. People moved away in pairs to be on their own, perhaps for the last time. Amanda stepped back out of my arms, looked searchingly into my face, and then turned abruptly and walked away. I stood there and watched her go. I could have called after her, but I didn’t. Because if she didn’t want to be with me, I didn’t want to be with her.

It was cold and dark and I had never felt so alone.

I sat down beside a guttering fire. Herne dropped heavily down beside me, and we sat together for a while, staring into the dying flames. I wondered how long we had, before the sheriff’s army arrived to put an end to everything. I looked at Herne.

“Can’t you tell me anything about what’s going to happen?”

“You and Amanda complicate things,” Herne said tiredly. “You’re like a blind spot in my memory.”

“Why?” I said.

“Why do you think?” he said testily. He gestured at Amanda, standing at the edge of the clearing and staring out into the darkness. A nearby fire left her half in light, half in shadow; splendid and mysterious like a spirit of the forest, or some ancient goddess come down to earth to meddle with human lives.

“Who is she, really?” I said.

“You’ll find out,” said Herne.

“I think I love her,” I said quietly.

“Of course you do.”

“Well?” I said. “How is that going to work out? Does she love me?”

Herne sighed, and looked at me with eyes older than the centuries. “She is so much more than you could possibly imagine. Loving her, being loved by her . . . is like a moth diving into the sun.”

“Well,” I said, after a moment. “There are worse ways to go.”

Robin sat down beside us. He was still smiling.

“I live for nights like this,” he said. “Dancing on the edge, savouring every moment, because you know you’ll never feel so alive again. Sometimes I think if I could only get the sheriff to come and join us for a night like this, we could put an end to all our quarrels.”

“He wouldn’t feel the same,” said Herne.

“But if I could just show him that he doesn’t have to be so alone . . . ”

“It’s what he’s chosen,” said Herne.

Robin shook his head stubbornly. “There’s good in every man, if you just dig deep enough. I have to believe that.”

“Of course you do,” said Herne. “That’s what makes you Robin Hood.”

“He is a legend,” Robin said sharply. “I’m only a man. Have you had any other visions about this army that’s coming? How big is it?”

“Big,” said Herne. “Really big. Horribly and devastatingly big . . . ”

“All right, all right!” said Robin, stopping him with an upraised hand. “I get the point. Isn’t there anything useful you can tell me?”

“I don’t know,” said Herne. “Ask me questions, and see what happens.”

“What kind of help has the sheriff received, to make him so confident?” Robin said carefully. “What kind of army will we be facing?”

“Nightmares,” said Herne. “Death on the march. Something bad is going to happen to Sherwood.”

Robin beat a fist against his thigh in a slow rhythm of frustration. “If the sheriff has called on unnatural forces . . . Are there other powers, that we could reach out to?”

“There are some who might listen if I call,” said Herne. “Ancient beings from when the world was young, wild and playful, always looking for something new to interest them. They might agree to get involved just for the fun of it. The real problem lies in getting rid of them afterwards.”

Robin frowned. “You mean the old gods, from before Christianity?”

“Older even than that,” said Herne. “Beyond good and evil, because those are limited human concepts. Like the pookah, who danced in the forest before men ever came here. The pookah is wild delight, the laughter in the woods and the joy in the night. Love and madness and everything in between, who dabbles in the glory and damnation of human hearts for its own entertainment. It likes to play with us, but it doesn’t always play nicely, and sometimes it breaks its toys.”

“Call one,” said Robin.

“I knew you were going to say that,” said Herne. “So I did it yesterday.”

“Then where is it?” said Robin.

“It’ll make itself known when it’s ready,” said Herne. “Or it won’t. It’s like that.”

Robin stared into the guttering flames of the fire. “We’re going to have to do this on our own, aren’t we?”

“You have me, and Amanda,” I said.

“Ah yes,” said Robin. “Our promised saviours. Can you fight?”

“I fought beside King Arthur and the knights of Camelot, against an army of monsters,” I said steadily. “And we were still standing when they turned and ran.”

Robin looked at me. “Camelot was hundreds of years ago . . . ”

“We took a short cut,” I said.

Robin nodded slowly. “If you stand with us, the odds are you’ll die with us.”

“I would be honoured to stand with you and the outlaws of Sherwood,” I said. “The odds don’t matter. We don’t fight to win; we fight because it’s the right thing to do.”

“To hell with that,” said Robin. “I always fight to win, because innocent people will die if I don’t.”

And that was when a messenger came stumbling into the clearing, a young man so exhausted by hard running two guards had to support him. They brought him straight to Robin.

“The sheriff has set fire to the forest!” the messenger said loudly. “He sent people in with torches, and now a great wind is fanning the flames and driving them deep into Sherwood!”

We were all on our feet in a moment.

“Where did he set these fires?” said Robin.

“All along the boundaries! The sheriff has vowed to burn the whole forest to ashes, and he has enough men with him to see it done.”

“Of course,” said Herne. “With Sherwood gone, there’ll be nowhere left to hide. And burning down an entire forest is an excellent way to show everyone just how far he’s prepared to go to get his own way.”

“It’s not too late,” said Robin. “We can take water from the rivers, cut down trees to keep the flames from spreading . . . And if all else fails, we can still escape. Find a new haven, and start again.”

“The sheriff has thought of that,” said the messenger. He looked ready to collapse, but he made himself stand straight so he could tell Robin what he needed to know. “He has people watching the boundaries, collected from all the nearby towns and villages, with orders to kill everyone who tries to leave the forest. And they are ready to do it! No one knows why. Either we stay in Sherwood and burn alive, or the very people we fought for will cut us down.”

Robin stared at him. “Why would they betray us, after everything we’ve done for them . . . ”

“There are special orders, where you and the Merrie Men are concerned,” the messenger said miserably. “You are to be taken alive, dragged through Nottingham in chains, and then publicly tortured and executed. So everyone can see the fate of outlaws.”

“The sheriff always was a bad loser,” said Robin.

He had his guards lead the messenger away to be cared for, and then called out to his people. Men and women came running from all over the clearing. Robin quickly explained the situation, and the outlaws hurried off to spread the word. Robin stood for a long moment, thinking hard, before finally turning to Herne.

“Is this what you saw coming?”

“Some of it,” said Herne.

“Why didn’t you warn me?”

“Because it wasn’t the right time. And it wasn’t like there was anything you could do,” Herne said reasonably.

“Can the sheriff really prevent us from escaping?”

“If you spread your people widely enough, some might get away,” said Herne.

It wasn’t the answer Robin wanted, but he nodded quickly and strode off to begin the evacuation of Sherwood. No one asked questions. They just packed up their few belongings and headed into the trees. Robin called for the messenger, and he came hurrying back. He’d been given a mug of Tuck’s mead, and was looking a lot more collected.

“Has the sheriff come in person?” said Robin.

“He’s holding a position by the northern boundary,” said the messenger. “So he can watch the forest burn, and laugh.”

“The nearest boundary . . . Which means he wants me to come to him,” said Robin. “It’s always been all about me, as far as the sheriff is concerned.” He clapped the messenger on the shoulder. “Thank you, friend. You put your life at risk to warn us.”

“Anything, for Robin Hood,” said the messenger, standing straight and tall despite his exhaustion.

“Then do me one final service,” said Robin. “Find a way past the fires and out of the forest, and tell everyone that Robin Hood and his outlaws never stopped fighting.”

The messenger shook his head fiercely. “I came here to fight alongside you!”

“Of course you did. But I need this more.”

The messenger nodded stiffly, and left the clearing. Robin turned to Herne.

“You were never a fighter. Go back to your cave. The fires won’t reach you there.”

Herne nodded slowly. “We will never see each other again. A shame. I shall miss our conversations.”

Robin smiled. “And I will miss you, old friend. Let’s see if I can finally be the legend you wanted.” He raised his voice again. “Marion! Tuck, Will, Little John! I need you!”

The Merrie Men came hurrying forward from every side. Marion moved in close beside Robin, where she belonged; one hand resting on his shoulder and the other on her sword. Tuck had a long wooden staff. Will Scarlett was smiling widely, his whole body seized with a dangerous tension. Little John loomed over everyone, even taller than I’d expected. He was carrying a club that looked big enough to drive a man into the ground like a nail into wood.

“It’s time to kill the sheriff,” Robin said calmly. “I’ve given the man every chance because he was my friend once, but he’s gone too far. Are you with me?”

Marion drew her sword. “Always, my love.”

“You took me in, when no one else would,” said Little John. “I will make your enemies remember why men were right to fear giants.”

Tuck hefted his staff. “I can crack a few pates with the best of them, and I’ve been working on a few new magics to confuse and bedevil our enemies.”

“I’m thirsty,” said Will Scarlett, and we all shuddered just a little.

Robin looked around at his Merrie Men, but the words wouldn’t come. So he just smiled and nodded, and strode off into the woods. The outlaws went after him, and suddenly the only people left in the clearing were me, and Herne. I looked at him steadily.

“Why didn’t you go with Robin? There must be something your magics could do.”

“Robin doesn’t need me any more,” said Herne. “Events have been set in motion, and the future is inevitable. It always was. I’ve remembered this for so long, I thought it would be easier to accept, but it never is. The ending of a dream . . .  He doesn’t know it, because I couldn’t tell him, but this is Robin Hood’s last adventure in Sherwood. My work here is done. I shall retire to my cave now, and sleep the sleep of ages. So I can wake up as someone else, to inspire some other hero.”

“Are you running away to hide, because you know the sheriff is going to win?” I said harshly. “Are Robin and all his outlaws going to die?”

“There’s nothing more I can do,” said Herne. “My power comes from the magical wells of Sherwood, and the sheriff’s people are burning it down.” He smiled tiredly. “Off you go, Outsider. You don’t need me; you have Amanda.”

“Do I?” I said.

“Well, that’s up to you, isn’t it?” He yawned suddenly. “Pardon me. I need to get my head down for a century or two. See you later, alligator.”

He ambled off into the trees, and the shadows swallowed him up. Amanda suddenly appeared out of the shadows, to face me.

“I know you love me,” she said. “And I love you, as much as I can.”

“Then what’s the problem?” I said, as steadily as I could.

“You keep asking what I really am,” said Amanda. “And we’re getting closer to the moment when I’ll have to tell you. But once you know, I’m afraid you won’t love me any more.”

“How I feel about you isn’t going to change,” I said.

“It will,” said Amanda. “Because once you know the truth, you’ll never be able to see me the same way again. Do you still want to fight alongside Robin Hood and his Merrie Men?”

“Of course,” I said.

“Then we’d better get a move on.”

She strode out of the clearing without looking back to see whether I was following. And this time I went with her.


I was surprised to find the night had come and gone while we feasted and danced, and grey shafts of early morning light were filtering down through the overhead canopy. Robin and his Merrie Men were completely out of sight, but Amanda plunged down one trail after another without hesitating.

It wasn’t long before I smelled smoke on the air, and heard the crackling of fires. Soon we were having to detour around whole areas of burning forest. Flames jumped from branch to branch, igniting one tree after another, until a harsh light filled the woods bright as day, and the air grew so hot it smarted painfully on my bare face and hands. We finally found Robin and his Merrie Men standing together in an open clearing, staring into the trees ahead. Robin barely shot us a glance as we joined him.

A growing thunder of running feet drew steadily nearer. We braced ourselves, and then a host of forest wildlife was running straight at us, panicked by the advancing fires. Deer and boars and wolves streamed past us, not even recognising us as anything more than obstacles to their flight. Waves of smaller creatures streamed after them, shooting across the clearing. Robin smiled briefly.

“It would appear we’re the only ones in this forest foolish enough to walk towards certain death. But we’re not far from the edge of the forest now. And, hopefully, the sheriff. If this is the end of my story, I’d hate for him to miss it.”

“Lead the way,” I said. “I’d like a few words with the man myself.”

“Of course,” said Marion. “You’re going to save us.”

“I’m the Outsider,” I said. “It’s what I do.”


But when we finally reached the forest boundary, and all of us except Will Scarlett stepped out of the trees and into the morning light, the sheriff wasn’t there. Instead, Miriam and Emil were waiting for us, backed up by row upon row of armed villagers. Robin and his people looked blankly at the motionless figures, while Miriam smiled mockingly at me.

“About time you showed up, Jack.”

The villagers were dead. Men, women and children stood silently, with empty eyes and slack mouths, not moving and not breathing. Their clothes still showed blood-stains from the wounds that killed them. Some had swords and axes, but most carried scythes and other farm implements. Friar Tuck put his hands together and murmured prayers for the dead. Robin turned to me, and when he spoke his voice was colder than I’d ever heard before.

“You know this woman?”

“I thought I did,” I said.

“She serves the secret masters,” said Amanda. “That has a way of rubbing off on people.”

“Why isn’t the sheriff with you?” Robin demanded of Miriam.

“Oh, he wanted to be here,” she said lightly. “He said he had a right to be present, at the end of the legend of Robin Hood. But when he called on my masters for help, they sent me and Emil; after that there was no more need for a sheriff.”

“He died bravely, if that matters,” said Emil. “Wouldn’t scream no matter what I did to him.”

Robin started forward, but Marion grabbed his arm. Emil looked disappointed.

“He was my friend and my enemy,” Robin said harshly. “That made him mine to kill, not yours. Who are you people? Name yourselves!”

“Cattle don’t need to know who the butcher is,” said Miriam. She smiled brightly at me. “What do you think of my new army, Jack?”

“A whole new low,” I said. “What were you thinking, Miriam?”

She shrugged. “Men In Black and alien Greys are all very well when it comes to intimidating people, but when you need something the whole world is afraid of you can’t go wrong with the living dead. Shock troops, in every sense of the word.”

“I knew these people,” said Robin, his voice thick with anger. “How can you justify what you’ve done to them?”

“I have always been able to do whatever it takes, to win,” said Miriam. “After what I’ve done here, no one will ever dare rise up against authority again. The fire will destroy Sherwood, the living dead will kill any outlaws who try to escape the flames, and everyone will know who did this, and why.”

“My people don’t die that easily,” said Robin.

“No doubt they’re brave enough, when it comes to shooting soldiers in the back from ambush,” said Emil. “But how do you think they’ll cope when the people coming to kill them have faces they know?”

“Don’t smile,” I said. “There’s nothing funny about this.”

“Really?” said Emil. “I think it’s hilarious.”

“I didn’t have any particular reason to kill you, until now,” I said. “But after this I’ll think of something special, just for you.”

He looked into my eyes, and saw I meant every word. He tried to say something, and couldn’t.

“Don’t tease the hired help, Jack,” said Miriam.

“How many of my people have you made into liches?” said Robin.

“The entire populations from every town and village bordering Sherwood,” said Miriam. “I had them all killed, and then I made them all stand up again, with the help of this very useful book I found in the Department library.”

“I thought you were all about the science?” I said.

She shrugged. “I’m sure I’ll come up with a rational explanation later.”

I turned to Amanda. “Can’t you do anything?”

“Even I can’t bring back the dead,” she said quietly. “And men have to fight monsters themselves, remember?”

Robin took a deep breath, and made himself smile easily at Miriam. Putting on the legend, to hide the man’s pain.

“Well, it’s been nice talking to you. Actually it hasn’t but I was brought up to be polite. We will defeat your army the same way we always have: by using the forest against them. Back into the trees, my Merrie Men.”

They were gone in a moment, as though the forest had swallowed them up. Miriam and I looked at each other, but neither of us had anything to say. Amanda tugged urgently at my arm, and I let her lead me back into Sherwood.


We ran after the outlaws, darting in and out of the burning trees. The appalling heat was closing in from all sides, and every breath seared my lungs. The air was thick with smoke. We fought our way through the inferno, and eventually caught up with the outlaws. They were crouched down on their heels, where the air was fresher, discussing tactics. Robin nodded to me.

“You seem to have some knowledge of the risen dead,” he said. “How do we put them down?”

“Destroying the head usually works,” I said. “Or an arrow through the eye, as long as it reaches the brain.”

“I can do that,” said Robin. “How fast do these liches move?”

“Depends on what kind they are,” I said. “Knowing Miriam, she’ll have gone for the speeded up version.”

“You go on,” Will Scarlett said calmly to Robin. “I’ll hold them here.”

Robin didn’t argue. “Fight hard, Will. And die well.”

“Been there, done that,” said Will.

“Go with God, my son,” said Tuck.

“If he’ll still have me,” said Will.

Robin set off, and the other outlaws went with him. I stood before Will, and searched for something to say. He nodded understandingly.

“You don’t believe in last stands. You think there’s always something more you can do. But there’s nothing like being killed, and having to claw your way out of your own grave, to teach you that sometimes you just run out of options. I want this, Jack. One last chance to feel like a man again.”

“Maybe it takes an undead, to teach the dead fear,” I said.

He smiled. “Nice thought. Now get the hell out of here. They’re coming.”

Amanda pulled at my arm, and we moved quickly to the edge of the clearing. I stopped, to look back. The dead came running through the forest, weaving blindly past blazing trees. Their clothes caught fire, but they didn’t care. Will waited patiently for the dead to come to him, and then crushed their skulls and broke their necks with casual blows. He picked up the dead and threw them at trees with such force their backs broke. He knocked bodies down and trampled them under foot. Smiling happily all the while. It must have felt good, so good, to let his rage run loose after having to keep it caged for so long. But in the end the dead just swarmed right over him and dragged him down. Will Scarlett disappeared under a pile of seething corpses, and was still struggling when they hauled him away.

Amanda and I moved deeper into the forest. After a while I heard Will start to scream.

“What are they doing to him?” I said to Amanda.

“They’ve dragged him out into the sunlight,” she said.


I plunged blindly through the burning forest, stumbling along and fighting for every breath. Trees were going up on every side like blazing torches, and the smoke was so thick I could barely make out the way ahead. I stopped to peer about me, and then had to bend right over because my head was swimming. Sweat dripped from my face onto the scorched earth, where it evaporated immediately. Amanda waited patiently.

“The fires are getting closer, Jack.”

I just nodded.

“Try your Sight,” she said. “Let’s See what’s happening to the others.”

I nodded, and Amanda put her hand on my arm.


Robin and Marion were running easily through the great trees, pacing themselves. The dead were close on their heels. Robin lured them into all his most secret traps and pitfalls, but no matter how many fell there were always more to take their place. Robin and Marion finally entered a clearing and came to a sudden halt, as dead men and women emerged from every side to block their way. There was no triumph in their slack faces, no hatred in their empty eyes. Death had come for Robin Hood and Marion the Fae, and it was a cold heartless thing.

“We’re surrounded,” said Robin.

“I had noticed,” said Marion.

Robin slipped the bow off his shoulder, and notched an arrow to the string. Marion hefted her sword. Robin smiled at her.

“The last stand of Robin Hood. I always knew I’d die in Sherwood.”

“And I always knew I’d die with you,” said Marion.

“Watch my back?”

“Forever and a day.”

The first dead man started toward them and Robin put an arrow through its left eye. The head snapped back, and the dead man crashed to the ground and didn’t move again. More dead surged out of the treelines, charging across the open space from every direction at once. Robin fired arrow after arrow and every shot hit home, until his quiver was empty. He shouldered his bow and drew his sword. He shared a quick smile with Marion, and then they moved to stand back to back. And waited for the living dead to come to them.

They came with grasping hands and remorseless strength, clawing at the outlaws with cold determination. Robin hacked and cut with elegant style, laughing out loud. Happy to be living his legend at last: facing impossible odds and refusing to be beaten. His blade cut down everything that came within reach, but soon enough the dead found their way past it and cold hands clawed at Robin. They tore his skin and spilled his blood onto the parched earth floor, but he wouldn’t cry out. He didn’t want to worry Marion.

The last of the Fae guarded his back with more than human ferocity, refusing to let any of the dead get past her to the man she loved. He never knew how many wounds she took, standing her ground and refusing to be moved. Her blood splashed on the ground, and mixed with his.

More and more dead emerged from the trees, and the human outlaw and his elven love fought on; like the legends they were.


The scene changed abruptly, to show Little John brought to bay in another clearing. Roaring flames consumed the surrounding trees, which toppled slowly and crashed to the forest floor like burning logs. New fires were springing up everywhere, and smoke curled thickly on the heated air as the dead poured into the clearing to face the giant. Many of them were half consumed by the fires they’d passed through, unknowing and uncaring, and smoke curled up from their charred and blackened forms. Little John towered over them like a bear beset by dogs, and when they came for him he struck them down with his massive club. A few crawled forward to clutch at his legs, and the giant stamped on their heads. His club rose and fell, doing terrible damage, and soon the clearing was littered with awful broken things that would never rise again. Little John stood his ground and swung his club as though it was weightless, and not one of the dead could get close enough to lay hands on him.

The giant fought off an army, and looked like he could do it all day.


My Sight switched to Friar Tuck. He had his back set against a tree as yet untouched by flames, and was sweeping his staff back and forth before him. The dead stood back, out of range, watching with empty eyes. And then one of them reached out unnaturally quickly, snatched the staff out of Tuck’s hands, and threw it away. Tuck cursed the living dead in God’s name, but they couldn’t hear him.

He spoke some Words in a language I didn’t recognise, and the grass in the clearing reached up to wrap itself around dead ankles. The dead just kicked their feet free, and moved forward. Tuck spoke more Words, and tree branches writhed like snakes before dropping down to seize hold of the dead. They broke the branches’ grip easily, and closed in on Tuck.

He faced them unflinchingly, his great hands closed into fists. A fat old man who loved life, and never dreamed that one day he would have to fight death with his bare hands. He hurried through his prayers, and then lashed out as best he could. He was still cursing the dead when they dragged him down.


Amanda took her hand off my arm and we were back among the choking smoke and the roar of blazing trees. I raised an arm to protect my face from the heat and looked around for a trail that would take us away from the fires, but there didn’t seem to be one. I turned to Amanda, who seemed as cool and collected as ever.

“You have to do something.”

“I can’t,” she said flatly. “The power it would take to overcome something like this would reveal my presence to the secret masters. And then they’d know who and what I am. I can’t risk that. My cause is too important.”

“You’d let Robin and his outlaws die?” I said.

“That’s why I brought you here, Jack. To do what I can’t.”

“What can I do?”

“Out-think the opposition.” She broke off, as she concentrated on something only she could hear. “Someone’s coming.”

I glared around me, straining my eyes against the thickening smoke. I started to reach for my backpack, but I couldn’t think of anything in it that could help. I looked at Amanda.

“You should go. You know this forest better than me.”

“We’ve come this far together,” she said. “I think I’ll stick around, for a while.”

Her smile warmed my heart. We stood side by side, and waited to see what would come for us. In the end a young man emerged alone from the smoke, its shirt hanging open to show the bloody hollow where its heart used to be. The messenger Robin had sent away hadn’t got far, after all. It looked at us with empty eyes.

“This is Miriam,” said the dead man. “Speaking to you on the supernatural channel. I see you, Jack! Surrender to me, and I’ll let Robin and his people run. I want you more than I want them.”

“Don’t do it,” Amanda murmured to me. “You can’t trust her.”

“I have to,” I said. “Robin has to survive this, to be the legend we came here to save.”

“If you go to her,” said Amanda. “I can’t go with you.”

I looked at her for a long moment, but her gaze didn’t waver.

“Just as well then, that Miriam only wants me,” I said, as steadily as I could. “Look after yourself, Amanda.”

I walked over to the dead man, and it took hold of my arm in an iron grip. It dragged me into the burning forest, and I wouldn’t let myself look back.


There were fires everywhere. Roaring flames consumed the massive trees, and shot high into the sky. The interlocking branches of the canopy had already burned away, and for the first time in centuries morning light fell uninterrupted into Sherwood. The air was thick with black smoke and floating smuts. The dead man dragged me past one blazing tree after another, walking right through flames it couldn’t feel. And all I could do was try not to cry out as the fires burned me.


We finally left the forest and emerged into the light, all seared flesh and charred clothes. I’d had to clench my eyes shut against the awful heat, and it took me a while before I could force them open again. It seemed like I hurt everywhere, and I didn’t dare look down to see how bad the damage was. I made myself concentrate on the scene before me.

Emil was sitting at his ease on a shooting stick, while Miriam walked among the last few rows of dead men, studying them interestedly like a science project. I looked around, but couldn’t see so much as a patch of darkened grass to show where Will Scarlett had met his end. Miriam finally deigned to take an interest in my arrival, and gestured for my dead captor to haul me forward. Before I could say anything, two more dead men emerged from the trees, hauling Friar Tuck along between them. They came to a halt beside me. Tuck’s face had been beaten to a pulp of blood and bruises, and he was barely able to stay on his feet, but he still managed a small smile for me.

“I never was much of a fighter, but I think I crushed a few of the things when I fell on them.”

I glared at Miriam. “You said you’d let Robin and his people go, once you had me!”

She shrugged easily. “But now the good friar is in my hands, I might as well make use of him.”

“That wasn’t the deal!”

“I’m changing the deal,” said Miriam. “We need one Merrie Man to make an example of, and the last one didn’t leave anything behind. I think we’ll send the good friar on a little tour, so everyone can see what happens to those who defy authority. He’ll make an excellent example, for as long as he lasts.”

I strained against the dead hand holding me, but couldn’t even loosen its grip.

Miriam ignored me, giving all her attention to Tuck. “Oh, the things we’re going to do you . . .  Emil, show Robin Hood’s man what happens to people who defy us.”

Emil got up off his shooting stick, and sauntered over to stand before Tuck. He smiled easily, and punched the friar in the face. Tuck’s head snapped back, blood spurting from a broken nose. He barely had time to cry out before Emil hit him again, and again. I fought against the dead man’s grip, and yelled at Emil to stop, threatening him with everything I could think of, but he just kept going until the friar hung limply in the dead men’s grip. Emil grabbed Tuck by an ear, and twisted it cruelly.

“Wake up! I’ve only just started!”

I looked desperately at Miriam. “Why are you doing this? I thought you only wanted me!”

“Yes,” said Emil, turning away from the barely conscious friar. “I’d like to know the answer to that one. Taking the Outsider prisoner was never part of our orders.”

“I’m in charge,” said Miriam. “And I will run things however I see fit.”

Emil looked at her for a moment, and then turned back to Tuck, hanging slumped between the dead men. Blood dripped steadily from his ruined face. Emil smiled.

Miriam walked over to stand before me. I couldn’t read the expression on her face.

“Work with me, Jack, and all this unpleasantness will stop.”

“It’ll never stop,” I said. “This is what the secret masters want for all of us.”

“Why do you have to be so difficult!”

“Because sometimes, it’s the only way to live with yourself.”

“Told you,” said Emil. “The Outsider was never going to turn.”

“I know what I’m doing!” said Miriam.

“This is just a distraction from what we were sent here to do,” Emil said flatly. “If you don’t kill the Outsider, I will. And then I’ll tell our masters that you aren’t up to the job.”

He produced a long thin knife from his sleeve, and turned it back and forth. The blade shone very brightly in the early morning light. Emil chuckled softly.

“You have been a thorn in everyone’s side for far too long, Outsider. And you really shouldn’t have threatened me.”

He raised the tip of his knife to my face, and I tried not to flinch.

Miriam drew her gun and shot Emil in the head. Blood and brains flew on the air. The blade dropped from Emil’s hand, and then his knees gave out and he fell unmoving to the ground.

“The things we do for love,” said Miriam. She smiled slowly, and aimed her gun at me. “No more arguments, Jack. Let me save you from this madness, and make you part of a better world.”

I looked at the gun. Death had never seemed closer, or more real. I took a deep breath, and let it out slowly.

“I think I’d rather die, than live in the kind of world you want. So go ahead, Miriam. Pull the trigger.”

“It’s her, isn’t it?” said Miriam. Her eyes were gleaming with tears she wouldn’t shed. “I never had a chance with you, because she got there first. Well . . . If I can’t have you, no one can.” She aimed the gun between my eyes, and her hand was very steady. “I would have given you everything, and loved you all my days . . . ”

“You don’t know what love is,” said Amanda.

Suddenly she was standing right there beside me. Miriam backed quickly away, so she could cover both of us. Amanda smiled at me.

“Sorry I had to leave you on your own, Jack. I knew she’d never speak freely in front of me, and you needed to make this decision for yourself.”

“I thought I was supposed to save the day,” I said, as steadily as I could.

“You did,” said Amanda. “You kept Miriam and Emil distracted, and turned them against each other, by refusing to be what either of them wanted. I’m so proud of you, Jack.”

She snapped her fingers, and the dead man holding me dropped to the ground. The dead men holding Tuck let go, and all three of them fell. The rows of dead men standing in the background quietly collapsed. Leaving Miriam all on her own.

“The dead are at peace now,” said Amanda. “Every single one of them . . . wherever they are.”

“How did you do that?” said Miriam.

“All this time, and you haven’t worked out what I am?” said Amanda. She put her arm through mine, and smiled sweetly. “I’m the free spirit, and the laughter in the woods. I’m the help Herne called for. I’m the pookah, darling.”

Miriam aimed her gun at Amanda, but her hand wasn’t as steady as it had been. Amanda snapped her fingers, and Miriam disappeared. I looked at where she’d been, and then at Amanda.

“Where did you send her?”

“To her death,” said Amanda. “Does that bother you?”

“It should,” I said. “But after everything she did, and everything she was prepared to do . . .  No. The world is better off without her.”

“That’s what I thought!” Amanda said cheerfully.

“Don’t smile,” I said. “She really did love me.”

“Well,” said Amanda. “You are very loveable.”

She turned around and blew out the burning trees, like so many candles. Blackened trunks steamed slowly in the early morning light. I didn’t need Amanda to tell me that all the fires in Sherwood were out.

“I thought you were worried about attracting the attention of the secret masters?” I said carefully.

“We’ll be gone before they can get here. I only held off this long because I wanted you to see me as human for as long as possible.” She shrugged quickly. “Selfish of me, I know, but that’s part of being human, isn’t it?”

“You really are a pookah?”

“I’m the pookah, darkling. There’s only ever been one.”

“Okay . . . ” I said.

“And you’re not freaked out about it?” Amanda said anxiously.

“What do you think?” I said. And then I kissed her.

I held her close and buried my face in her hair, and she snuggled up against me, and I never wanted the moment to end. But eventually she pushed me away, and I let her. Because both of us knew there were things that needed doing. I suddenly realised my burns didn’t hurt any more, and when I looked down they were gone. Even my scorched clothes had been restored. Amanda smiled brightly.

“I’m not just here for the bad things in life.”

“What about Robin, and the outlaws?”

“See for yourself.”

She put a hand on my arm, and I Saw an entirely unharmed Robin and Marion standing back to back in their clearing, surrounded by fallen dead bodies. Marion kicked a few, just to be sure. And then I was looking at Little John as he shook unmoving bodies off his huge frame, wondering what the hell just happened. All through the forest, trees were healing and sprouting new leaves as the smoke quickly dispersed, while a whole lot of outlaws stared dazedly around them, surprised they were still alive after all. And then my Sight shut down, and all I could see was Amanda.

“Is there anything you can’t do?” I said.

“Oh, lots and lots,” she said calmly. “It’s very frustrating.”

“What happens to Robin now?”

Amanda shrugged. “His legend is safe, but his story is over. Just as Herne predicted. With the sheriff dead and the secret masters defied, Robin can stay in Sherwood or go to Nottingham and become sheriff, whichever he thinks will do the most good. So, our work here is done! Let’s go.”

“What about Tuck?” I said. “We can’t leave him here like this.”

She looked at the friar, lying unconscious on the grass.

“I should have got here sooner, shouldn’t I? Ah well . . . ”

Tuck’s wounds healed in a moment and he sat up suddenly, a look of astonishment on his restored face. I extended a hand to Tuck, and hauled him onto his feet. He looked at the restored Sherwood, and blinked a few times.

“I seem to have missed out on a few things . . .  Did we win?”

“Of course,” I said. “That’s what legends do.”


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Framed