Some of the crowd laughed, others pretended not to be disturbed. Marion simply rolled her eyes. Gilbert was a haunted man, no doubt, but by no supernatural means. His nature probably hid little more than unlucky choices and a lonely soul. But as much as she hated to admit it, there was value in turning him into a ghost story. The caricature of a spectral assassin might scare off their enemies, just as the myth of a benevolent Robin Hood had brought them allies.

Marion eyed Robin, who seemed to sense her thoughts and winked back. What Lord Walter might think, if he heard his son had become the very figure of charity. Yet there was an undeniable change in Robin of late. He had eased out of his recalcitrance and enjoyed himself, at times behaving much like his new namesake. The thing that Lord Walter had started, whatever it was, was still alive here. It was taking a shape Marion had not expected.

Part of it unfolded before her. They could only delight in scary stories now because their days were no longer defined by fear. Life was still difficult, and they had ample concerns to worry about, but there was safety behind it all. It was the same at Locksley Castle. They did not live in fear of their lord, and Walter did not use fear to keep them in line. Their relationships were described in degrees of gratitude.

It was a better way to live, Marion knew it. Robin’s tactics had simply found another path to it.

He winked at her again, larger and more obvious, and she had to laugh.

“We all have our reasons for coming here,” John Little said with some weight, still talking about Gilbert. “And they’re not all pretty.”

“He’s not like that,” Much said matter-of-factly, plunging a small potato in his mouth.

Marion grabbed his chin and made him look up at her. “Have you been talking with Gilbert again, Much?” He hesitated and shook his head no, then opened his mouth for her to see the mush of his potato.

“So he does talk, then?” Robin asked, half-joking. “I think Gilbert’s only stared at me so far.”

“John,” asked David, “I thought you said Gilbert never had no family?”

“I did say that,” John nodded, “but that’s just instinct. He has the look of a man who never had none. I don’t believe Arthur’s story for a moment. Even still, Lord Walter told me once that Gilbert had a notch or two on his belt, so to say. Didn’t incline who they were, or how many.”