This is the second part of the long epic "Quintessence of Life", a long and captivating epic about love, hatred, politics, treachery, and mysteries. This part is called "Mysteries Unveiled". If you didn't read the first part of the epic – "Mysteries of the Past", I recommend that you read it at first and only then come back to this story. Otherwise you risk failing to understand many twists and events in this story.

The part "Mysteries unveiled" begins with the events in Nottingham as Sheriff Vaisey and his accomplices depart to the Holy Land to kill King Richard and Robin Hood. Later, the head-spinning events happen in Acre, the dark mysteries of the past are unmasked, and dramatic reconciliation is achieved. Yet, the fight is not over, and the Black Knights have a trump card up their sleeve.

The main characters of the story are Robin and Guy.

If you choose to read this story/novel, I think you will like it. Yet, if you are an extremely devoted fan of any pairing (Robin/Marian or Guy/Marian), then you may find it somewhat difficult to accept the fact that, in spite of marrying Guy, Marian's feelings are shown as torn between Robin and Guy, as it was on the show in the end of season 2, but then something happens and many things change. I am trying to devote enough time to every main character – Robin, Guy, Marian – and the existing relationships, whatever they are – the Guy/Marian relationship, or the Robin/Marian relationship, or the Robin/Melisende relationship.

The plot is largely focused on the political aspect of Robin Hood's cause – fighting for England and King Richard. The second part of Season 2 was largely about Robin's efforts to save the king and defeat the Black Knights, and this story has a similar plotline. Robin is portrayed as the king's man and the people's hero, but anyway more as the king's man.

The love component of this story/novel includes Robin/Melisende, Robin/Marian, Guy/Marian, Guy/Meg, Will/Djaq, Prince John/Isabella, and some other relationships. The love triangle of Marian, Robin Hood, and Guy of Gisborne is analyzed in details through actions and thoughts of the characters.

The plot is not absolutely historically accurate. Nevertheless, there are many events from history, like the end of the Third Crusade. Some historical events are changed for fictional purposes.

There is no character bashing in this story/novel. No character is placed on a pedestal, even Robin. I am not hostile to any particular character and try to be fair to Robin, Guy, Marian, the sheriff, and other characters. I am trying to portray everyone more or less closer to the reality (what we had on the show). Yet, some actions/situations may be interpreted as out-of-character, but this is alternative reality and fiction, and there can be some deviations from an original portrayal/case.

Please be aware that there are scenes of violence and bloodshed. There are also extremely sensitive scenes, very emotional and dramatic.

Reviews are appreciated. Constructive criticism is always welcome. I would be very grateful if you find a minute to write a review. I only ask you to be polite and tolerant as I believe that if people begin to criticize the story without explaining what they dislike, it creates unhealthy tension.

Undoubtedly, I don't own the characters and the show. I hope you will enjoy reading "Mysteries Unveiled".

Quintessence of Life

Part 2

Mysteries Unveiled

Prologue

In the brilliant sunshine of April afternoon, Robin of Locksley was slowly making his way through the streets of Acre. He was dressed in a silk loose robe in the Arabic fashion. He covered his head with a ghutra that held in place with a thick cord. The Arab headdress completely hid his sandy-colored hair and his slightly tanned skin; only his pale blue eyes betrayed his Englishness. He looked like a rich Saracen merchant, and a silver sheathed scimitar hung on his waist, which he wore to protect himself from thieves.

Not wishing to attract attention to his famous persona in the Holy Land, Robin wasn't accompanied by the king's guards and even by Much. He was on a mission of vital importance to King Richard the Lionheart. He needed to hear everything discussed by the Saracen populace of Acre – from secret conversations and whispers to idle chats and rumors. He was the king's ears and eyes in Acre.

Robin wandered around the streets of Acre for several hours, his head high, his gait proud and graceful. Observing the smallest things happening in the city, he nodded at the Muslims, but he never made a long eye contact with anyone for the sake of keeping his identity a secret. He didn't want anyone to notice the color of his eyes – his pale blue eyes that betrayed he wasn't a Saracen. He didn't stop and ask for directions as he knew the plan of Acre very well and could get anywhere even at night.

In the past few weeks, Robin of Locksley, Robert de Beaumont, Carter of Stretton, and several king's men disguised themselves in Saracen clothing and went to Acre, where they blended with crowds of the Muslims and other Crusaders. Robin, Robert, Carter, and other three men spoke excellent Arabic, understanding with ease what pedestrians talked about. It was a new way of conducting reconnaissance by stealth for the king's men to ensure King Richard's effective protection from the Black Knights and Vaisey's Saracen allies.

After Robin had killed Robert de Sablé, Grand Master of the Knights Templar, it became clear that Prince John would again try to assassinate the rightful King of England. Robin and his friends expected the arrival of Sheriff Vaisey, Guy of Gisborne, and possibly other accomplices in Acre within the next several months. Security measures were significantly toughened in the camp, and the reconnaissance in disguise was introduced at Robin's initiative. Robin and his friends desperately hoped that they would hear something that could lead them to the sheriff's Turkish allies who, as they believed, had a hideout somewhere in Acre.

In the Genoese, Pisan, and Venetian quarters, Robin visited several markets, examining his surroundings with the utmost scrupulosity. After he had crisscrossed three merchant quarters, he headed to the harbor. He passed by the headquarters of the Hospitallers and the Knights Templar, his gaze wandering around and often lingering on the Accursed Tower, an important guideline that allowed him not to lose his bearings.

In the districts adjacent to the harbor, streets became wider, with literally every space filled with throngs of people in the colorful shops and markets. As on most afternoons before the evening prayer, large crowds were moving towards or returning from the bustling central market of Acre. The Crusaders that controlled the city settled disputes and kept peace. Wealthy merchants argued about the price of ivory, cloth, wheat, or some Arabic delicacies. Sailors, travelers, and many others wandered through the city, visiting various inns and taverns in search for a new adventure or just a good barroom brawl.

"Life seems prosperous and calm in Acre. It is so difficult to imagine that there is only death, bloodshed, and yellow sand outside the walls of the city," Robin mused, looking around appraisingly.

The sun was so hot that it seemed as if it had descended from the heavens and climbed on Robin's head. There was no breeze, the hot air was suffocating, and Robin's skin was damp with sweat. In the sweltering heat, Robin became more impatient, cursing the heat in his mind over and over again.

Several weeks passed since they had started the new reconnaissance, but so far they failed to find any trace of Vaisey's Muslim allies in Acre yet. Nobody of the king's men heard anything about the planned regicide attempt or any mention of Vaisey. Richard's spies in the Angevin Empire didn't ferret out any new information about the plans of the Black Knights to assassinate the king or usurp power in any other way. It was the lull before the storm, and, obviously, something was going to happen.

"I begin to think that this reconnaissance will give us nothing," Robin thought. He crossed the street and then stalked towards a nearby narrow alley. "But Vaisey will come to Acre and will try to kill King Richard."

Today, while strolling in the city and its suburbs, Robin heard many people discussing the Third Crusade and the chances of making peace with Saladin. Many Christians spoke about Robin of Locksley, captain of the king's private guard and the man whom they called a peace-maker in the Holy Land. Merchants hoped that peace with Saladin would lead to a decrease in taxes and an increase of turnover in the port of Acre. Everyone wanted the Crusade over – they wanted peace or at least a long break before an outbreak of a new war. He overheard only two weaponsmiths talking about the Crusade with enthusiasm.

The sun was just reaching the horizon, painting the landscape in shades of orange and amber. Many shops were closing, and the streets were being gradually deserted as the Saracens were hurrying to mosques for evening prayer. Robin didn't follow suit and continued his way down the street adjacent to the harbor. Only a few Crusaders patrolled the streets, but Robin knew that many Christian soldiers would overcrowd the neighborhood in several hours, going to local brothels to taste exotic sin.

Robin continued the reconnaissance; his mind was concentrated on every sound and movement, and he plotted each step and considered each gesture. The loud laughter of the night guard patrolling the streets rang in the air, and the sounds of evening prayer were booming out across the city.

Robin caught his breath in surprise as he spotted two shadowy figures on a nearby street. Those two Saracens apparently didn't want to be noticed. Pressing himself against the walls of buildings, Robin followed the two men, who were skulking in and out of alleyways, lanes, and streets like criminals on the run. The sun had long set behind the sandy hills, and the shades of night hung over the Acre. The two Saracens were heading to the suburbs of Acre, which unnerved Robin, his heart hammering harder in anxiety.

At first, he thought that the two men were waiting for some unwary travelers to rob them. But the longer he followed them, the more suspicious they seemed to him. The Saracens stopped near a tavern, exchanged a couple of words in the local language, and entered. Robin hid behind the corner of a building and waited. Fortunately, the men walked out in a few moments and marched down the street;

Robin was pursuing the Saracens like a shadow as he lurked between houses and rare palm trees. His apprehension magnified as they moved further from the center of the city, towards the suburbs of Acre. They were not alone on the road: silhouettes of Crusaders were visible all around under a dim streetlight. Robin continued following the two men who had no idea that they were being tracked down; the years of service in the king's private guard equipped the young captain with a great experience to stay undetected.

The Saracens paused at a crossroads, and Robin stopped, hiding in the alcove of a wall. He stood, not daring to move, fearing to draw his breath, and watched the Saracens. To his left, a light of the lanterns placed around the entrance to a nearby building made it possible to see the outlines of the Citadel of Acre and the Accursed Tower; Robin knew the location, and this knowledge calmed him down.

"Nasir, have you heard anything from our Christian friend?" one of the Saracens asked quietly in Arabic. "I mean something about Sheriff Vaisey or Guy of Gisborne."

"Karim, I haven't heard anything interesting. We should wait," Nasir replied, also in Arabic.

Robin swallowed hard, his heart pounding in his chest as he tried to eavesdrop. The reconnaissance finally gave the result: it seemed that he had discovered Vaisey's Muslim allies. He frowned, wondering who their Christian friend was. Heavens! Did they have a spy in the Crusaders' camp?

All of a sudden, Robin felt someone tug at his sleeve, and he turned to see Robert's pale green eyes. Then his gaze met Carter's blue eyes. Robin nodded and sighed with relief that he wasn't alone there.

"What are we going to do? Are we going to kill Melek-Ric before he makes peace with Saladin?" Karim inquired, his voice edged with notes of anxiety and irritation. "If Robin of Locksley allied the barbaric king with the Hashashin, then they are likely to begin the negotiations with Saladin very soon."

Nasir enunciated, "We must get rid of Melek-Ric before he makes peace with Saladin."

"We failed to kill the barbarian king many times over," Karim complained in a voice laced with anger. "We can kill the king on the day of Captain Locksley's wedding. People will crowd the streets; we will be able to blend with the crowd and kill Melek-Ric."

"No, no, no," Nasir contradicted with determination. "There will be too many people there. Security measures will be toughened, and we won't be able to approach the wedding party."

"But we must kill Melek-Ric! He must pay for the crimes he committed in our land!"

"Karim, don't be so irrational and hot-headed. We cannot act right now," a categorical answer followed. "I also want Melek-Ric dead, but we cannot do anything without Lord Vaisey. We should wait."

"When will this man come to Acre, Nasir?"

"Today I had a meeting with our spy in the Crusaders' camp," Nasir informed. "He told me that the sheriff should arrive in the Holy Land soon. Maybe he is already on the way to Acre."

An enraged Robin clenched his fists as anger gripped him like a steel fist. A wave of fury was so strong that it made his heart beat like a frantic drum. He exhaled, feeling simultaneously agitated, disappointed, and frightened. But despite the emotions coursing through him, his face remained expressionless. His initial guess was right that the Christian friend of these two men was a wretched spy among the king's men, but it was extremely difficult to uncover the villain. Robin held out little hope to uncover the traitor, unless the man committed a mistake by chance, giving the Crusaders a chance to succeed in finding him.

"It would be great if our spy learned something else. We have lost so much time while our enemies have been destroying our country," Karim snarled, his voice so guttural, he sounded more animal than man.

"He does everything he can. He has to be very cautious."

"I just hope that we won't lose our last spy in the king's camp."

"He ordered us to wait and not to act without the sheriff," Nasir said strictly. "He said that Vaisey is a resourceful and cunning man. He swore that the sheriff would be able to outwit the king's guards, especially Robin of Locksley and Robert de Beaumont."

"So we will wait for the sheriff's arrival and then will kill the king," Karim deduced.

"Yes," Nasir confirmed. "Now let's go. Hurry up."

Robin, Carter, and Robert wanted to follow the two conspirators. Unfortunately, they were discovered by two patrolling Crusaders who began to stalk towards them. They ambushed the Crusaders and escaped. They ran as fast as their legs could carry them, heading to the harbor and then to the Genoese quarter, where they had a secret place to remove their disguise and change their clothes.

By the time they reached the Genoese quarter, darkness shrouded the city like a black veil. Although there was no access to the sea from the Genoese quarter, unlike from the Venetian and the Pisan quarters which had been built by merchants near the port, a slight breeze still sprang up there and swept the sand from the ground into whimsical patterns around the running men. Everything went deathly quiet as they finally stopped near a one-storied building and tried to steady their breathing.

Robin stared at the flickering lights at one of the windows. A frown creased his forehead as he glanced between Robert and Carter. "It is a great pity that we missed them. If those Crusaders weren't so interested in us, we could have followed Vaisey's allies and discover their nest." His voice sounded tired and frustrated.

"There was no way we could do that," Robert soothed, although he had also been frustrated.

Carter sighed. "We couldn't have allowed our fellow men to learn that the king's highly favored generals had disguised themselves as local populace. That would have been the end of our reconnaissance!"

A thoughtful Robin looked up. The bright stars came out, glimmering like dewdrops against the velvet expanse of the sky. Today the vault of the night canvas was indigo with a hint of blue, and for a moment, Robin imagined that he was no in Acre but back in England. He had seen the sky of this color many times in Nottingham and in his beloved Sherwood. Memories suffused him, ones he had tried to banish from his mind, yet they were stored there permanently. Marian… He couldn't stop thinking of her even when he was betrothed to Melisende. Searing pain cleaved into his chest like a sword – the pain of loss and separation.

There was no better way to vanquish his emotions than to think of their mission. Robin tilted his head slightly and growled, "At least we know their names – Karim and Nasir."

Robert laughed painfully. "Do you know how many people with these names live in Acre?"

Robin turned his gaze to his friend. "At least we have learned something new about Vaisey's allies. And we also know that we have a traitor among us."

Carter frowned. "It was naïve to hope that we uncovered all the traitors in the recent massacre."

"It appears that we were mistaken," Robert concluded.

"We will have to do something. I will think of something," Robin proclaimed.

Robert swept his eyes over the central square in the Genoese quarter. "We should go."

"Yes. The king will be worried," Robin noted, a grim smile curving his lips.

Robert grinned. "Our liege misses us."

"The king always misses us," Carter said with satisfaction. "But this time, we have bad news for him."

The moon disappeared behind a cloud, and, in the inky darkness, Robin felt disenchanted and depleted. Every time a feeling of loneliness took possession of him, his mind conjured pictures of Marian and himself, and the dull ache of loss and betrayal centered in his chest. He was relieved that the darkness hid his fears and insecurities. As his mind focused on the latest events, a sickening feeling settled in his stomach, and a sense of terror was beginning to well up in him. They had a traitor in the king's entourage!

By the time when they returned to the Crusaders' camp, it was already past midnight. They were dressed in Crusader garb after changing their clothes in the Genoese quarter. But despite the late hour, they didn't plan to sleep, for they had to share the urgent news about Vaisey and the planned regicide attempt with their liege. The night was young, and they had many hours ahead to invent a new plan of action.

§§§

The April night was chilly and very clear. The sky was dark, sparkling with starlight, and the moon was a crisp, silvery crescent, painting the landscape with a dull silver. A dreary silence reigned in Nottingham. It was a deathlike stillness, like a silence of the tomb, for there was no twittering of birds, no humming insects, no footsteps in the corridors of the castle, and no people scurrying in the streets. At night, Nottingham resembled more closely resembled a ghost town than any kind of town.

The night wasn't peaceful for Guy of Gisborne who was gripped by powerful nightmares. This time, even Marian's presence in their bed didn't smooth his fears and anxiety. In his dreams, Guy could see his own body burning in hellfire, the red and orange flames licking him everywhere. He tried to run away from the inferno, but there was no escape, and he felt as if he were burning for all the heinous crimes he committed in his quest for power. He felt a great pain lance through his body, moaning quietly.

Guy groaned in his sleep and rolled over on his back. Dread filled his entire being as Guy was trying to find the way out, but someone grabbed his shoulders and held him tight. Now, there were two people stuck in that inferno, and the second man prevented Guy from seizing his last chance for salvation. The tormentor removed his hood, and now Guy had to face Sheriff Vaisey, his master and the man who had brutalized him and had taught him to kill. His body shuddered as his sleepy mind envisioned a sneering Vaisey. When the sheriff wrapped his arms around his henchman's waist, the dream became more than Guy could bear.

Guy opened his eyes and pulled himself into a sitting position. He looked at the other side of the bed, where Marian slept peacefully, feeling relieved that he didn't wake her up. As they had left one candle burning in the candelabrum, he could see her face that looked so peaceful that a large, sincere smile illuminated his features at the thought that she was his wife. His mind wafted to the subject of Robin's obvious pain after his marriage to Marian, and his heart threatened to burst from his chest as he envisaged a brokenhearted Robin – the face of his most vicious enemy shadowed by grief instead of being graced by a flamboyant grin. Yet, he wasn't blissfully happy in his marriage, and that weighed down on him like chains.

At dawn, he rose from the bed and dressed himself in black leather jacket and pants. He was disgusted to wear black leather which he associated with Vaisey and with the past which he craved to forget. He didn't want to wear black leather every day, but he had no choice and had to comply with the sheriff's orders.

In the stables, Guy mounted his horse and rode away from the Castle of Nottingham, basking in the first rays of the rising sun. After his recent nightmare, Guy felt a strange desire to go to a church and talk to a priest. He decided not to go to the chapel in the castle, for he suspected that the priest had been bought by the sheriff. He chose to go to the old church in the suburbs of Nottingham; it was located close to the former Gisborne lands, and his mother had often taken him to masses there. He never visited it since his return to Nottingham because he hankered to escape from his childhood memories, both good and bad.

Guy dismounted and tied his horse to a nearby tree. He stopped near the heavy oak door and opened it with trembling hands. As he stepped into the candlelight beneath the lofty arched portal, his gaze fell on a black wooden cross of Jesus Christ that hung on the farthest wall. A wave of nervousness overcame him, the blood drained from his cheeks, and Guy suddenly looked like a dead man who rose from a grave.

As he stopped in the middle of the chamber, the old priest looked at him with interest, for he came to the church earlier than the time of morning mass. Frightened and confused, Guy watched the priest stalk towards him. As he felt the priest's hand on his shoulder, reality claimed him back from his slumber. The priest said something, and Guy responded Amen without thought. He recollected himself when the priest offered him to make a confession, and he nodded wordlessly in response.

Guy felt anger boiling in his veins: he was angry with himself that he, Guy of Gisborne, suddenly came to the church and was in the need of confession. He fought to conquer his emotions, but he still felt the last vestiges of anger clawing at his insides, twisting his gut, tightening his muscles. With effort, he calmed down and braced himself mentally. He eyed the priest and noticed that the man was very old; he wondered how such an old man was not dead yet and was still capable of serving in a church.

The priest scrutinized Guy. "Sir Guy of Gisborne, I feel that your soul is burdened by the weight of your sins. Did you come here to beg God's pardon for your crimes?"

Guy looked intently at him; his hands clenched into fists. "I… don't know why I came."

The old man smiled kindly. "Don't be scared of the Lord, my son. I know that you are not a demon." He looked at Gisborne until Guy's heart started to pound and his stomach felt squirmy. "I know that your soul is burdened. It should be burdened because you are on the wrong path."

Guy gave a sad smile. "I had… a horrible dream… about hellfire." He lowered his head. "Do you hate me, like everyone in Nottingham does because I serve Vaisey?"

"My son, I knew your father, Sir Roger of Gisborne," the priest spoke calmly, the corners of his lips quirking in a small smile. "I remember you and your sister in childhood. Why should I hate you?"

An amazed Guy stared at the old man in shock. He was so shocked that he staggered slightly, but he kept his feet. He passed his hand across his eyes, looked at the priest again, and muttered something under his breath. His mind meandered over the days of the distant past, and the familiar image of the young priest's face who had served in this church in the times of Guy's boyhood flashed in his mind. He remembered the man in front of him – he was Father Alden, his mother's confessor.

"I remember you, too," Guy choked out.

Father Alden smiled heartily. "Are you here to confess your sins?"

Guy was at a loss for words. He was so frightened, and his mind was afire. A little shudder ran through his large frame, and a cold shiver was creeping through his veins. He was searching for the right answer, but his mind was like a butterfly in a fog, flitting and looping round to places where he didn't want it to rest. Looking at the priest's welcoming face and an inviting gesture, Guy felt dread clawing at his insides. Ignoring the growing desire to talk to the man who knew him since childhood, he took several steps back.

The priest realized that his guest felt uncomfortable; he felt sorry for Guy and pleased that there was something good in Guy's heart, but he couldn't help him if Guy didn't intend to open his heart to God.

Guy shook his head. "I beg your pardon, but I am not ready to make a confession," he replied in a shaking voice. "God have mercy on my soul, but I cannot do this."

"I see." The priest looked disappointed.

"How can you know for sure that there is really the devil?"

"We know there is the devil because of God's word, but the devil cannot perpetrate his evil works if we don't allow him to exhort us to evil deeds," the priest said, his voice stressing every word.

"I know." Guy's voice was low, nearly a whisper.

"My son, I know that you don't worship the devil."

Guy nearly rolled his eyes in exasperation. He disliked preaching and had little patience to listen to the priest's sermon. However, he didn't want to be mean and responded in a calm and polite voice, "No, I don't, but I haven't prayed for so long, since childhood." He trailed off, and he sighed as his mind drifted back to his nightmare. "And do you think that… anyone can… atone for his sins?"

Father Alden breathed a sigh of relief, and a faint smile lit his face. At least Guy was willing to listen to him. "We should not assume a person needs deliverance from the devil, but if you sinned, then you must understand that you need to repent and find the right path in life." He smiled kindly. "Your heart craves for redemption, but you cannot get it if you don't want to repent of your sins and change yourself."

"What can you do for people who are not willing to repent, or for those who don't have enough strength to do that?" Guy's sensations were singularly acute. Anguish and confusion claimed him entirely. In a few moments, gratitude and hope flooded him; something sweet and beautiful rioted in his blood. He felt the touch of something divine, and he would have fallen prostrate before the priest with his face to the stone floor if the terrifying numbness didn't overcome his whole body.

"A priest can bind the devil temporarily by praying for your soul, my son. But, eventually, you must open your heart and soul to God's will."

"I understand." Guy's chest heaved with emotions, and he no longer could stay in the church. He swung around, intending to leave.

"Wait, my son," the priest called, almost appealing to the younger man.

Guy stopped, turning to the other man. "What can I do for you?"

The priest was silent for a moment. When he spoke, his voice was low and deep. "I was a young man when I started serving in this church, and your father once came to me after his miraculous return from the Holy Land," he announced in a steady voice. "I cannot break the seal of confession, but I want to tell you something that will puzzle you and can make you… feel uneasy."

"What?" Guy's voice was a husky growl.

Father Alden sighed, thinking whether he should continue; boldness prevailed. "Sir Roger of Gisborne appeared in this church and confessed his sins several days before the fire at Gisborne Manor." He paused, collecting his thoughts, carefully piecing together the words he could use so Guy might understand and believe him. "Years ago, your father did something very bad to Malcolm of Locksley and Robin of Locksley."

"I don't want to hear anything about these people," Guy hissed. Then he started walking to the exit.

"Wait!" the priest cried out in a loud voice. "Your father wronged Sir Malcolm and young Sir Robin. I doubt that he repented of his wrongdoings before his death. He never permitted God to be the lord of his life." He sighed. "After Sir Roger's death, I earnestly petitioned to God and prayed for him to be forgiven."

"No," Guy breathed. He stood rooted, but he didn't turn to the churchman.

"Yes," the priest articulated slowly, as if with great strain. "Everyone in Nottingham could see that you hate Robin of Locksley, but I am sure that I am one of the very few people who understand the roots of your hatred. And I know much more than others do."

Guy huffed in rising anger. Then he swung around and froze, staring at the priest with an intensive gaze. "You cannot break the seal of confession. The dead cannot rise to a new life. And I highly doubt that my honest father somehow wronged Malcolm of Locksley and his spoiled son."

"You are mistaken, my son," the priest assured him. "Your father wasn't a saint."

"But you can tell me nothing," Guy whispered.

"Your father told me what he had done, and I know the truth. You have no reason to hate Robin of Locksley; he is not responsible for your troubles and unhappiness."

"Then who is at fault?"

Father Alden's expression changed into distress before turning blank. "Many people were guilty; your father was one of them." He emitted a heavy sigh. "I have heard rumors that you tried to assassinate King Richard in the Holy Land. Robin Hood told someone that you had attempted regicide, and gossip circulated in Nottingham. But Sir Robin stopped you before you could kill the king."

"I am not intending to listen to rumors," Guy grumbled, his voice sounding peculiarly tight.

The priest weighted his words evenly. There was a kind of urgent desperation in his voice as he began his speech. "There are things you must know before it is too late. You would have committed a sacrilegious act and the gravest crime if you had murdered King Richard. You would have never atoned if you succeeded in killing the lord of the English realm, and not only because he is the King of England."

Guy scoffed. "The king possesses a divine power, right? His life is sacred."

The priest shook his head disapprovingly. "You cannot murder King Richard." His voice deepened. "And you cannot take Robin Hood's life either because it would be a heinous crime." He raised his voice. "You cannot kill either of them. Otherwise, you risk losing a chance for redemption."

Guy was nervously biting his lip. "Why should I let them live?"

"Just remember my words, my son."

"What did my father tell you, of course, if you are not lying to me?"

"I am a man of God, and it is a sin to lie," the priest declared glumly, feeling offended by Guy's words. His gaze became ever-penetrating, and somehow that was more awful for Guy than his steady, funeral voice that spoke the unknown truths. "You have no reason to hate Sir Robin." He crossed himself. "I said more than I could. May God forgive me for telling you some really unsettling and confusing things, but I cannot reveal anything else to you – I can only warn you."

"Thank you for confusing me," a frustrated Guy barked.

"Guy, don't raise your sword against King Richard and Robin Hood – remember my words," the priest reiterated, his voice several octaves higher than a few moments ago and quivering with emotion. "And if it is God's will, then one day you will learn the truth."

"Thank you." Guy frowned at the old man, his gaze narrowing.

The priest crossed himself. "Peace be with you, my son. I will pray for your soul."

Guy stormed out of the church like a hastily retreating and beaten enemy. Dawn broke over Sherwood Forest in the distance, its tender rays caressing his face. He rubbed his face and tried to think about the day ahead of him; yet, thoughts of Vaisey and his work in the castle made him feel nauseated. He shook his head in an effort to shake off the old memories that stirred in his mind after the conversation with the priest.

He swallowed the lump in his throat and expelled a deep sigh. His meeting with Father Alden was worse than the most dreadful nightmare. The priest brought something strange to his attention, but he didn't say anything else. Only one thought was shining clear in his clouded mind – the priest knew something about Roger of Gisborne. He was interested in his father's confession, but he didn't want to believe that Roger had sinned against Malcolm and Robin, the two people whom he hated for so long.

Guy hopped into the saddle and set his horse in motion. He had to get away from the priest who awoke many unpleasant memories in him; memories of the tragedy and pain not too many people ever faced. He didn't want to believe Father Alden, but his gut feeling told him that the old man's words were extremely important, as if they could unlock the mystery of the most closely guarded secret in the world.

I hope you truly enjoyed the prologue.

This is the prologue to the second part of my long epic.

In Acre, Robin and his friends are desperately trying to thwart the attempts of the Black Knights to assassinate King Richard. They are using a new method of conducting reconnaissance in disguise. I used the plan of ancient Acre when I wrote the first part of the prologue that focuses on Robin.

In Nottingham, Guy is plagued by nightmares, for his conscience is troubled with the fact that he serves the sheriff. The priest warns Guy about the mysterious triangle Robin/King Richard/Guy, but, of course, he can tell Guy nothing about the true relationship between Robin, Guy, and Richard.

The Saracens called King Richard Melek-Ric or Malek al-Inkitar.

There are many quite shocking and original twists in the second part of the long epic. This part of the trilogy is more dramatic and emotional than the first one. I hope your journey in the world of Robin Hood and his friends with this long story/novel will be pleasant and interesting.

Reviews are always appreciated, including constructive criticism. Thank you for reading the prologue.

Yours faithfully, Penelope Clemence