The cloaked man, shockingly, saw through Alan’s disguise. “Excuse me, friend!” The man’s voice was articulate, his clothes were far finer than an average traveler’s. Though he appeared to be alone, Robin still eased his sword from its scabbard, careful not to reveal himself yet. The strange man had a song in his voice for Alan. “Please, I beg your assistance, oh scurrilous forest bandit. I am so terribly overladen with jewelry and gold, or whatever other incentive may specifically interest you. If you have any wits at all about you, please serve me in as criminal a manner as you see fit. I should warn you that my guard is half-blind, in both eyes, so fully blind rather, it’s a wretched condition. I don’t suppose you could be so bothered as to fucking rob me, would you kindly?”

A dozen mysterious possibilities unraveled in Robin’s mind, and he hoped this might be an innocent joyrider rather than an obvious trap. The stranger gestured for Alan to follow him, which he did. Robin trailed at a healthy distance, and Alan found a discreet moment to look back for instruction. Robin could offer him nothing.

Within a minute the trees thinned and they were upon the Sherwood Road, where there waited an unmistakable gaudy carriage outfitted with colorful streaming banners. Alan stepped onto the road ahead, nocked an arrow and aimed it limply at the stranger.

“Ah yes, perfect, thank you! I feel adequately threatened now. You have most overwhelmed me, and I humbly surrender. Take what you will!”

“Who are you?” Alan asked.

“I am a defenseless traveler with just so much gold. And I’ve had the hardest time finding somebody to take it from me. Have you been on holiday, perchance?”

The stranger lingered at the edge of the road. At least one more body sat atop the carriage, maybe one more inside. The stranger seemed to be around Robin’s age, with dark and curly ruddy hair.

Alan was plainly clueless how to react, and simply said, “What?”

“Please,” the stranger’s tone dropped a bit, “for the love of anything you find holy, tell me you are not Robin Hood.”

“No,” Alan called out, to the stranger’s obvious relief. Alan again glanced nervously back toward Robin’s hiding spot, forcing him to duck down.

“But you know Robin Hood?”

“I might.”

“There’s no need to be a prude, now,” the man said. “Have you any acquaintance with Robin Hood? He doesn’t have to be your best friend for you to say yes.”

“Aye, I know him,” Alan said slowly.

“Excellent,” the visitor clapped. “He’s still in the thievery business, then?”

“I suppose.”