"Fathers, Brothers, Sons"

 ~ The new story ~

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Why are two sworn enemies forced to live together under the same roof?

"I have no grandsons to carry on my line,"  David said finally.  "It is Robert's duty to give me one.  This-" he lifted the roll of parchment in his hand, "-is the first step towards acheiving all that I desire.  It is Robert's pardon.  His liberation."

Robert has become a father - and things have changed...

"You must acknowledge that I am a husband and a father now, and I will not place my own personal family on a lesser scale of importance to everything else." Robert's words to the Powers of Light and Darkness, spoken after Ellie had been born, when he had sat alone by the stream, now back to ring in his memory. "I am Herne's Son, but I am also my daughter's father. Things have changed. I must protect my own, as well as the folk I am called upon to protect as Herne's Son. I will give my all to both callings - but never make me choose between them." 

Problems loom for the outlaws - and for once, they aren't caused by the Sheriff...

"Robin i the Hood,"  mused Gwydion.  "I've been hearing a lot about him round here.  So that's who you're with, then?  Him - or one of the other lot?"

Alan immediately pricked up his ears.  "What other lot?"

"I heard..."  Gwydion leaned closer to talk confidentially,  "I heard there was this other lot, see.  When I was in Lincoln, there was talk of them.  They've been robbing folk in the woods outside Lincoln.  The people of Lincoln said they'd heard this other lot boasting they'd come to Sherwood next and see off this Robin i the Hood - and his men."

"That's the first I've heard of them,"  Alan said.

"Well, they don't seem to be very friendly, boy.  Reckon your leader ought to watch his back.  Or, since they say that he's blind as a bat now, maybe you ought to watch it for him."

At Nottingham, Gisbourne has plans...

"Sir Guy.  Of Huntingdon. I'm the Earl's son."

He frowned at his reflection in the polished silver.  "No.  Too pretentious.  Think humble.  Simple.  Yes.  Humble and simple."  He cleared his throat once more.

"Huntingdon," he said with a slight raise of an eyebrow.  "Guy of Huntingdon."  The corner of his mouth twisted in disaproval.  "No."  He held the mirror out as far as he could reach, and cleared his throat once more.  "Guy," he said with confidence.  "Sir Guy of Huntingdon."

He grinned.  "Perfect."

And Abbot Hugo's past catches up with him...

Hugo looked round at Timothy, and his voice when it at last broke the silence was cold and final. "Get out of here."

Timothy rose to stand and face the Abbot, keeping one hand in contact with the table. "No," he said steadily. "I want to know who my mother is. It is my right-"

"-You have NO rights!" Hugo snapped back at him suddenly, cutting him short. "You were a born-blind bastard that no-one wanted - you have NO rights!"

Timothy felt beside him for his stick propped against the bench, and taking it up, walked alongside the length of the trestle table, trailing the fingertips of one hand along it in guidance until he reached the end of the table where Hugo stood. He halted and faced the sound of the Abbot's heavy breathing.

"My rights are why I came back," Timothy said quietly and steadily and with determination. "Because I want some answers, my Lord Abbot. About who my mother was. About who *I* am. I asked you these questions eleven years ago and you did not answer them."

He leaned slightly forwards to Hugo and spoke with calm but deadly meaning.  "I was but a fifteen year old boy then, no match for you, and I ran away.  Well, now I am six and twenty, and I am not going to run away this time, my Lord Abbot.  I am going to haunt you until I have the answers I want."