Alan stayed where he was, placing the tip of his sword against Locksley’s chest exactly as he had done with Will. Locksley looked at it calmly, then slowly raised his right hand close to Alan’s face, between it and the blade. Alan looked at it dumbly for a second, and then a small movement of his left hand let Locksley flick the sword tip up and away from Alan, stealing it and reversing its point against Alan’s neck. If Elena had blinked she would have missed it. It was so smooth Alan didn’t even register it had happened before it was over. Despite herself, she was impressed.

“Dead.” Locksley mock jabbed the blade into Alan’s throat. “Too close.”

“Yes, but you know what sort of men drive carriages for the wealthy?” Will asked. “The kind that don’t move like lightning. The kind that are fat and slow and scared of men with swords.”

He went on, but Locksley leaned back toward Elena’s stump. “Did you hear that? He said I moved like lightning!”

Elena shoved him away.

“The point is, don’t take a chance. Step back, Alan.” He did, and Robin resumed his original position outside their pretend carriage. “Now, Will, why don’t you try to disarm him from that distance?”

Will sighed but took the challenge. He brought up his right hand, flopping it about to mock Locksley. “Ooh, look at the hand! You’re so distracted by the hand! Whatever are you going to do by the—” Then he lunged to snatch the sword from Alan, just as Locksley had. But the gap between them was too much, all he grabbed was air.

“So sorry my friend snuck up on you there,” Locksley was back in character, bow up, “he didn’t realize how twitchy you were. I’m the same way, really, so I’d prefer you have no more sudden movements unless I accidentally let fly this arrow. I’d appreciate it.”

“If I kill you,” Alan snarled, “it won’t be accidental.”

“Woah!” Locksley laughed. “Settle down, Alan! Keep it friendly! Nobody wants to be robbed, but if you make the experience as pleasant as possible, they’re less likely to complain about it to the Sheriff. Remember,” he winked, “we’re gentlemen.”

Locksley swung himself inside the carriage, landing with something he thought was grace on the stump next to Elena, oozing fake charm. “Good evening, ladies.”

Elena promptly pounded the flat of her fist into his chest three times. “Stab stab stab. Dead.”

The crowd whistled and hollered for her, as they should.

“And risk getting blood all over your lovely dress?” Locksley smiled. “I think not.”

“Hey, she can kill you if she wants!” Will twisted to watch what was happening, but Alan grabbed his shoulder and spun him back.

“You can’t see any of this,” he whispered. “You’re outside the carriage.”