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master, the most cold-hearted, ruthless killer I had ever encountered? I shivered, though the day was quite warm.
    My dark reverie was interrupted by a soft, sweet voice I knew well crying: ‘Alan! Oh, Alan, welcome home. It is wonderful to see you!’
    It was my friend and hostess, Marie-Anne, Countess of Locksley. I bowed low before her with a bent knee and an elegant waft of my hand, my black mood instantly lifted by her lovely guileless smile.
    She took me by both upper arms, hugged me briefly, and then stared into my eyes. ‘How is he? Is he well?’ she said earnestly.
    ‘Robin is quite well,’ I said, ‘and he bade me to offer you a tender kiss, a soft embrace and all the love in his heart.’
    I was lying, of course. Robin had bid me say no such thing, and he would hate that I was putting my words in his mouth, but I was very fond of Marie-Anne and I could see that she required reassurance about Robin’s affections. Who was I to deny her comfort in this matter? There was a dark shadow that lay between Robin and this beautiful lady before me; and while I could not banish it, I could at least make her feel happy for a while.

    ‘He is coming tonight,’ I said. ‘And he will flush this rabble of Murdac’s away from your walls with fire and steel.’
    ‘I knew he would come,’ she said, her eyes glinting with moisture. ‘Even in the darkest days, I knew he would come. Has he changed at all? Did he say anything about … about … his family?’ She stumbled to a halt. I knew what she was referring to – her baby son Hugh – but I chose to misinterpret her words.
    ‘He told me that I must speak to his brother Lord Edwinstowe as soon as possible, my lady. Would you be so good as to lead me to him?’
    Marie-Anne leant forward and wrinkled her nose. Then she said briskly: ‘Of course, but I think before you are taken into His Lordship’s presence, you should change into a costume that more befits a noble warrior of Christ, one who has made the Great Pilgrimage to the Holy Land. And perhaps, before that, you might like to have a wash …’
    And so within a quarter of an hour, I was seated in the bathhouse in a steaming wooden tub, with my modesty covered by a sheet, while serving maids poured flagons of hot water around my pink and soapy torso. It felt wonderful. Marie-Anne was as good as her word and after my hot bath she saw to it that I was dressed in clean under-drawers, new green hose, a fine linen chemise and a grey woollen tunic. On top of that I wore a thick cloak of fine green wool with a gold-thread-embroidered border, and a new sword from the armoury was strapped around my waist. I felt a good deal better to be clean, it must be admitted, and to be garbed once again as the Lord of Westbury filled my heart with a deep, quiet satisfaction.
    William, Lord Edwinstowe, was seated in a wide, brightlypainted chair at the head of Robin’s hall, dressed in a long flowing purple robe, his shoulder-length curled brown hair held in place by a circlet of gold. I was brought into his presence by a servant and, after I had made my bow, the baron and I stared at each other for a while without speaking. He had the resemblance of Robin, I saw, but with a thinner face and harsh lines cut down either side of his mouth. His eyes were brown, however, rather than Robin’s extraordinary silvery-grey and, although he was seated, I could see that he was a shade taller than my master. When he eventually spoke, his voice too was different: higher, not so musical as my Earl’s honey tones.
    ‘So you have come to me from Robert of Locksley,’ he said. ‘And where is he now, may I ask?’
    ‘He is close, sir,’ I said, ‘in the hills to the north, well hidden, but he is watching the castle as we speak.’
    ‘So my little brother hides and watches, while I defend his castle from his enemies?’ His tone contained more than a touch of sneer, and I felt the beginnings of a blush of rage on my cheek. I knew, however, that