no!.  i took the bread.
they're not interested in truth. you are too weak, peter. you would not live through it. the interrogator stares into robin's eyes.
and this is english courage. he hurls his holders aside. swings upward, driving his fast into the executioner's throat. grabs the sword. slash. his thongs melt like butter. a jailer leaps at him. steaming, the scimitar slices into the man's chest. despite his bindings, peter wrestles the interrogator. knife pressed to his throat, peter is forced against the furnace. at the last second, he flips the man into the fire. screaming.
you speak english?
what i would give for an english sword. this is a pruning hook. a guard swings at him with a giant axe. robin slashes.  shears the axe handle in two.
hmm! not bad. he runs the man through. peter loses his sword. his opponent moves in for the kill.  peter grabs tongs from the fire and smolders his opponent with a backhand. commotion outside. raised voices and running feet.
why should we trust you?
he makes a point. the door bursts open. more guards rush in.
a good point. he slashes the man free.
whatever blood is in his veins, he does not deserve to die here.
five years i've waited for the smell of free air. that makes a man fast. guards drop down from above, carrying torches. blocking the way.
amen, brother. a bloodcurdling scream. a pursuing guard tumbles down the sewer chute. the three men press themselves against the wall. the man hurtles by.  is impaled on the spikes. a draft of fresh air from the roof of the tunnel. using the spiked guard as a ladder, robin climbs. removes a grating.
god willing, we may now be safe.
come, peter. we must hurry. raising his sword, peter faces the oncoming soldiers.
hold on to my shoulder.
i swear it. summoning hidden resources of strength, peter charges at the oncoming soldiers, brandishing his sword.
farewell, friend. god speed you on your way.
i go to england.
england? why?
go your own way. i relieve you of your obligation.
and if i don't want you?
robin of locksley. you know a short route to england, aslan? cut to:
home. thank you, lord. aslan steps from the boat, sniffing the air. the french sailors keep their distance from him. robin takes his hand.
my friend, you have escorted me home. i beg you to free yourself of your vow. return with the boat. i know how heavy your heart must be, this far from your family and native land.
i thought you'd say that. he nods to the sailor, who swings the club down. the saracen sidesteps, grabs the man's arm and flips him into the surf. he turns a cold stare on robin.
come, aslan. by nightfall we will celebrate your honor when we dine with my father.
why must you walk in back of me?
our races have fought for a hundred years to prove that point.
for an 'infidel' you have uncommon clarity of thinking. yet you refuse to tell me about your home and family.
you speak my language. you have the diplomacy and honor code of a nobleman. i ask again, why were you to be executed? the saracen maintains a moody silence.
so, i must continue with my guesswork. you are highborn? probably.  you fell from favor.  clearly.  why? you broke the law? you were a rival for power? .  a woman?
by the lord, that's it! aslan is silent, but robin knows he's right.
they say there are arab women of such beauty that they can possess a man's mind, that he would be willing to die for them. is that not so? ignoring him, the saracen stops. examines the darkening sky.
your people must marry women chosen for them by others, right? no reply. aslan unfolds a prayer rug.
who is she? the mullah's daughter? .  another man's wife?.  that's it!
you dog! you painted old dog! what is her name?
her name?
her name?
ah, jasmina! is she beautiful?
that way. aslan throws his rug on the ground. kneels.
i would know blindfolded. i'm five miles from home.  was she worth it?
hold!.  i am curious as to what manner of creature is so fearsome that it takes six men to attack it. shrouded in his pilgrim's hooded cloak, he approaches them.
have we treed the devil himself? let me see.  ah ha! a small boy. a truly dangerous animal.
wrong. this is my land, and my tree. therefore, whatever is in it also belongs to me.
the man who strikes that tree dies. he glances nervously at aslan, who's still at his prayers. the men stop in mid-swing. more surprised than scared. gisborne gestures to the largest of them.
perhaps we could discuss this.
aslan! it's time to redeem that vow.
aslan, get off your damn knees! i have four of them cornered. the saracen remains head down. or did we see him steal a glance? gisborne signals his men to attack. a wave of flashing steel.
i hope there's enough of me to satisfy you all. backed up to a tree, he grabs a branch and kicks out. two men fly back. he lunges at a third. his sword strikes flesh. robin sidesteps and hurls the fourth onto a sharp tree stump. gisborne thrusts. robin reacts too slowly. blood flows from his arm. his sword falls.
aslan!! gisborne is on him, sword pressed to his back. robin freezes.
on your knees, gisborne. pray. he obeys. robin raises his sword.
now get off my land. and tell your cousin the sheriff what happens to his scum when they pick on my people. gisborne takes off, colliding with aslan as he folds his rug. reacts in shock at the sight of the strange arab. keeps running.
you worthless savage! you travel ten thousand miles to save my life, then leave me to be butchered.
which does not include prayer times, meal times, or any time i'm outnumbered six to one!!
barely. aslan examines robin's wound. dismissive.
after six years of the stench of death, i have no stomach for needless blood on my hands. wulf climbs cautiously from the tree.
have no fear, boy. the boy nervously eyes robin and the saracen, fingering a crucifix around his neck. runs off into the woods.
ha! it was you he was scared of. aslan's humor is infectious. robin's anger relents.
come, my strange friend. beyond that hill lies the prettiest little castle in all christendom. warm hearths, hot food, real beds.
with feather pillows. warm and soft like jasmina's embrace.
father! hello! his voice echoes around the fallen battlements. aslan places a hand on his shoulder and points.  suspended high on a tower wall is a decaying human corpse.
noooooo! a paroxysm of rage and grief. he smashes furniture. slams his fists relentlessly into the wall. pained, aslan looks on.
i should have been here. spent, he leans against the wall. in the silence, they hear an eerie tapping. robin draws his sword.  a hunched, old man emerges, walking with the aid of a staff .  duncan.
damn you, duncan. why didn't you cut him down?
you left my father to hang like a common thief, carrion for the crows.
what has happened?
did they have witnesses?
did you believe the charges?
who did this to you, duncan?
our last words in this world were spoken in anger. he called the crusades a foolish quest, said it was vanity to force other men to our religion. he was right. please forgive me, father.
i failed him. i should have been here at his side.
leave me.
leave me.
i swear by my own blood. i will not rest until i have restored my father's name. .  or until i am dead.
we make a fine army, do we not, duncan? a blind man, an arab, and a fool.
this is summer.
why, pray?
you despair too soon, aslan. we shall find food and shelter here among friends.
peter's home. it is nearly seven years since we left here together.
open up!
tell the mistress of the house that robin of locksley is at her door.
aagh! he shouts through the hatch, over his bruised fingers.
is the child marian at home?
i am robin of locksley.
i may meet my maker soon from lack of sustenance. but for now i am real enough.
by heaven, am i to dance next? who are you?
then show yourself, child. for we knew each other well.
you know i am not one of them. besides, i am sworn to protect you.
allow that years of war and prison may change a man. step forward, marian, so i may see how you have changed.
er.  the years have been kind.
wait, marian! . ouch!
you are truly courageous against an unarmed man. the figure gestures towards the door. robin sidesteps. slams an elbow. the sword drops. slides across the floor. robin moves for it, but the man intercepts, drawing a dagger. robin darts to the wall. rips off an antlered deer head. defends himself as the attacker slashes at the horns.
marian. cut to:
we were together five terrible years in a saracen prison.
marian, i'm sorry.
on my return, i found my father dead. the sheriff denounced him as a druid and took our lands.
why do you not join your mother in london? you would be safer there.
the you must allow me to be your guardian.
marian, i don't want to replace him.
i killed some of the sheriff's men. i fear i have placed you in danger.
i'm not leaving. marian ices him with a glare. aslan reappears, with two bareback horses. soldiers appear on the crest, led by gisborne.  with a mischievous grin, marian runs to the soldiers.
damn the girl! aslan, can you ride? in answer, aslan grins. leaps onto a horse. with a single swift move he hoists duncan up behind him and digs in his heels. the mare leaps forward, and over the estate wall.
he can ride. he heads his horse at the wall. it stumbles. barely clears it. stones fly. robin struggles to hold on. marian stands directly in gisborne's path.
damn you, animal! aslan shouts from the far bank.
of course i've had a woman! come on, pretty one. he pats the horse soothingly. the animal edges forward.
i know! i know! the soldiers reload. robin urges the horse at the steep drop.
easy, easy. another wave of crossbow bolts. robin launches the frightened animal into space. hooves flail.  touch down. scramble up the other bank. robin enthusiastically pats the horse's neck.
i love you! the first two pursuers misjudge their leaps. their mounts land sprawling in the riverbed.
what is your pleasure, gisborne?
you survived one meeting. our next will be your last.
that's a lie!
we have lost them. i'll lame this mare if i ask her to go any farther. he gently extracts the shaft from his horse. aslan opens his pouch. pulls out two shiny clear pebbles and a square leather hide. rolls the pebbles into the tube and holds it to his eye. a primitive telescope. robin watches, curious.
is this arab magic?
god knows!
we can lose them in the forest.
either we take our chances with the ghosts, or become ghosts ourselves. he remounts. they race into the trees. gisborne's men thunder up,.  slowing as they enter the forest. peering around them in trepidation, they slowly rein in. robin looks back.
they're not following.
be quiet! listen. wind gusts the trees in angry waves. emits deathly shrieks. the horses whinney. unnerved, aslan smites around him with his scimitar. wheels at the sounds, striking only air.
behind you! aslan slashes out, futilely.
no, there! and there! aslan flails. robin cracks up.
here are your ghosts, duncan. a child's toy put to good use. you scare easily, my painted saladin. his laughter is broken by a piercing yell. a red- jacketed figure swings down out of a tree on a rope. catapults him to the ground. the bushes are instantly alive. shaggy, wild-eyed men, armed with cudgels, scythes and hayforks. twelfth- century hell's angels. the red-jacketed young turk, will scarlet, leaps around robin.
aslan! aslan makes no move to intervene.
i beg of no man. which of you scum has guts enough to face me man to man?
er.  robin.  he pauses, checking the faces of the angry peasants.
hood. robin hood. who are you?
bestman? you lead this rabble?
tax? for what?
i will pay no tax. besides, i have nothing but my cloak and my sword.
that is sacred to me.
you will have to fight me for it.
this man is your father? tell him how i saved your hide from the sheriff's soldiers. that deserves some gratitude, i believe. he reaches for the medallion. john pulls it away.
aslan!
son of an arab whore! once again your assistance was invaluable.
that rabble?
they have a leader. a very large one.
allah has taken your brains.
you, too? you expect me to fight that behemoth?
this is my bridge. no one crosses without paying tax.
if you wish to cross, it will cost you a gold medallion.
you don't have the courage to face me again, john little? or should i call you 'little john'? john grabs a hefty, gnarled staff. strides to the bridge.
do you yield?
do you yield?
good. now put your feet down. john struggles, then his feet hit bottom.  the water only reaches his chest.
pay me the tax. a tense pause while all wait for little's reaction.
a fine brew, little john. he spits black objects from his mouth. dead bees. john grins.
you owe me nothing, wulf. i am glad i chanced by in time to help.
tell me about your men, john. john points to a short fellow with the build of a tree trunk.
how do you come by the name, bull?
because you are short?
no, bull. save it for the ladies. drunken laughter. robin turns to the next man at the fireside.
your name, friend? the man's bald pate blushes scarlet as he tries to respond, but he stutters too badly to get out a comprehensible word.
hold! hal, you have the face and hands of a farmer. i wager you are a strong and honest man, and i'd be glad to have you at my side in a fight. the next man who makes light of you will have to answer to me. there is murmuring around the group, but no one elects to try it.
how is it there are so many of you in hiding?
how do you fare?
while the sheriff steals your land and your families starve?
your ghosts will only keep his men at bay so long, my friend. soon the sheriff will hunt you down and hang you. you must fight back.
we must organize. win by guile.
no. to lead you.
there are many here who knew my father to be a kind and generous man. i doubt that in their hearts they believe him capable of such a horror. murmurs of agreement from around the fire. robin turns to will.
what is your name, friend?
he is right to distrust me. i am a rich man's son. i have done no honest labor. but today i am as poor as any of you. nottingham has stolen all that i own. and when i killed gisborne's men, i, too, became an outlaw.
we can win. and i believe we will.
english dogs. they can learn.
too much mead, old friend. what day is it?
good. do they still give alms to the poor at the mass?
then i must ask you a favor.
pardon my blindness, sir. i'm always falling down.
alms for a blind man. for one who cannot see your beauty.
so you care for my safety?
under the sheriff's law, that's a badge of pride.
how much?
is that all? i have not annoyed him enough. soon he will offer ten thousand.
how do you know?
what is he planning?
if you need me, i will be with the woodsmen. send for me as 'robin hood.'
what?
care to join me? with a grin, he slips into the crowd as nottingham arrives.
a hundred crowns, sheriff? you insult me. nottingham starts to struggle. robin draws blood.
remember young robin of locksley, sheriff? meet robin hood. your nemesis. your avenging angel.
if i kill you, i will hang happy.
i want to give you a chance. a chance you do not deserve. a chance to right your wrongs.
from this day forward you will cease to tax my people. you will renounce the charges against my father, and you will return his lands to me.
because for every harm you do, i swear by god i shall visit on you threefold in return.
i am here with a blade at your throat. as long as i live, you will always know that i could be here again. a yell from across the church. gisborne has spotted them. robin digs the knife a little deeper.
your answer?
then it will begin.  gisborne yells orders. robin hurls nottingham against the wall.
a personal loan from the sheriff.
how so? you have not raised a finger to protect me.
it was my choice to do this alone.
aslan, if i didn't know better, i would swear you were worried about me.
then we shall take from him and his rich friends.
will, do you think the sheriff will give everything back after i am gone?
alright, will. you can take me in on one condition. you must fight me. you may use the sheriff's horse and arm yourself as you please. i will fight on foot. unarmed.
if you lose, you will accept me as your leader. if you win, you may take me in. dead or alive.
i am grateful for your concern, friends, but i have to prove to them it is possible to overcome unequal odds. i am ready, will. will bends, as if checking the horse's legs. secretly grabs a handful of sand. swings into the saddle and digs in his heels. closing in, will flings the sand in robin's eyes. robin clutches his hands to his face, blinded. will spins back to the attack. his sword slashes. reacting to the sound, robin rolls aside. the men cheer like a big fight crowd.
come on, you little piss pot. do your worst! will grabs a spear from a bystander. robin stands his ground. will lunges, robin sidesteps.
the horse is smarter than you are, will. some of the men laugh. will is incensed. robin ducks and weaves, easily evading will's repeated charges. robin ducks right under the horse's belly.
here, will! you aim like a girl, will! will stabs wildly, more and more frustrated. laughter spreads, as robin plays hide and seek around the horse's legs. grabbing the end of the spear, he clowns a tug of war. enraged, will strains and tries to kick robin away. suddenly, robin lets go. unbalanced, will flies back- wards off his mount. robin snatches the spear and raises it over his fallen adversary. the crowd falls silent. robin strikes. the point quivers in the ground below will's crotch. will wriggles in terror. impaled, his pants rip open.
thank the lord you are not endowed like bull.
nottingham has taken from us everything we own. now we are going to start taking from him.
we are going to tax him. dissolve to:
how many?
twenty? they usually have five. he grabs the telescope.
this is no ordinary convoy. bull calls up from below, where a ragged group of woods- men lies nervously in ambush.
er, about ten. why scare them? they can't count anyway.
let's go. together they run down the hill, keeping low. gisborne eyes the forest. the beer cart is steered by a fat red-faced friar, raucously singing hymns and quaffing from a jug, which he repeatedly dips into one of the barrels. arrows whistle in. the friar yells and drops his jug. a soldier is hit. at the forest edge, four woodsmen reload their longbows. dressed in green, their faces camouflaged. the mounted soldiers charge them. the woodsmen run into the trees. as the horsemen close in, the runners leap into a trench. lift up matted screens of brush and grass. it's as if they disappeared. the soldiers slash wildly at the thick screens. more arrows fly. more soldiers fall. the others spin in confusion, trying to discern the enemy. more woods- men break from cover. run down a narrow path. gisborne urges his men to pursue. they ride in single file, beating their way through the tangled branches.
surrender your weapons. i give you my word you shall go free. in answer, a swordblade jabs up through the roof, near his feet.
ah, i feared as much. he signals to aslan, who steers the tax wagon into the river. water floods in through the slits. inside, panic. drowning rats. the bowmen scramble out. what they see stops them dead. both banks are men in green, longbows aimed directly at them. cut to:
this treasure had a purpose. we must find out what. he turns at the sound of a brawl from the friar's cart. the friar is at the bottom of a struggling heap of bodies.
get off him. he's a man of the cloth. robin drags the men off. the friar clambers to his feet. around him are strewn battered and winded woodsmen.
it appears to me, reverend friar, that many of the libations have found their way into your own esteemed person. ignoring him, the friar mounts the cart.
a moment, my reverend friend. you travel with poor company when you travel with nottingham's soldiers.
my men are thirsty and have much to celebrate.
surely the lord has the charity to spare a few barrels to good christian men. the friar relents, loosening his grip on the reins.
you leave when i say. scrambling to his feet, the friar glances skyward.
never! whoomf!
yield yourself! he dives onto the friar and hammers his head into the ground.
yield to robin hood. tuck holds up a hand in surrender. robin eases off.
well, friar tuck. we have need of an honest man of god, to minister to these men and their families. what do you say?
giddyup, friar.
what do you say now, tuck? here are the meek of the earth. tuck surveys the hopeful, hungry faces. the little hamlet of half-built huts. he folds his hands in a moment of prayer.
you will not regret it.
buy yourself a new son, stephen.
i believe you. but this arab here, he's got it into his barbarian brain that you know a whole lot more than nothing.
and when he gets like this, he's very hard to reason with. with a hair-raising war cry, aslan leaps into view. stripped to the waist, brandishing his scimitar. the captain tries to back away. robin tries to restrain aslan, is hurled aside. snarling, drooling at the mouth, aslan explores the captain's body with his hands. a butcher checking meat.
i strongly advise you to talk. he hasn't eaten in weeks.
you.
no, aslan.  not this one, aslan. .  how about this other one?.  fatter, yes.  more meat. the other soldier, who definitely has more flesh on the bone, is struck dumb with horror, as aslan turns his attention to him. with one swing of his sword, aslan slices through the man's ropes. drags him to his feet. little john runs over.
i cannot stop him, john. besides, if they will not tell what they know, then they must pay the price.
well, roughly, he says that he doesn't care for the way your friend tastes, and he wants you.
thanks to our cannibal friend. aslan repeats his wildman act, munching on a chunk of venison.
to hire mercenaries. the celts are savage tribesmen, trained to kill from birth.
since he also has every smith in the country working in his castle, we can assume he is planning a little war.
good morning, lady marian. in response, she starts pelting him with stones.
ah well.  er, let me finish this bath you wished me to take. then i'll explain.
if you will be patient, i could spare your propriety by.
as you wish.
nottingham robs the poor. we rob nottingham and give back to the poor.
somebody has to take a stand.
nottingham was sending this gold to buy reinforcements from the celtic tribesmen. we need to warn king richard.
the king is not in england to be challenged, is he? while he is away, he may lose his country. you are richard's cousin. you can get word to him. he would believe you.
i am sending duncan with you. give him some warm food and a real bed. i grow tired of his bellyaching.
don't tell him i told you, but he may be useful to you. there is no one to whom i would rather entrust your safety.
will you send word to the king?
we have to be ready to move camp at any time. the only way we can be attacked is from the nottingham road. we hide lookouts in the trees, here and here. if they see soldiers, they shoot warning arrows. whistles by day, fire by night. wulf runs up to little john in panic.
the good friar has done all he can. i suggest you let the arab try. if i am wrong, and they die, then you may take my life.
what are you going to do?
the knife?
horses? by the lord, what are her chances?
now you tell me! wulf runs back in. aslan holds up a piece of wood.
is she gone?
what did you say? aslan holds up a bloody struggling infant.
the dancing demon! good morning.
they need help.
are you sure it was a druid mask? damn them to hell! they must have marian. do you know where they meet?
no! you stay here, dammit! i will go alone.
then be my friend. there are women and children here in greater need of your courage.
marian!
why, marian?
i love you.
where is marian?
marian? aslan runs to the back of the cave, searching. wulf is crouched beside bull, who murmurs his dying words.
you have fulfilled your vow. now you can leave.
you ignored my request.
because of you, another good man is dead.
to hell with your damn vow.
the forest! ride!
wulf, stay here. i need your horse. he climbs onto wulf's horse, steers it right at the heart of the enemy.  aslan blocks his way, grabbing his reins.
what are you doing? out of my way!
out of my way, damn you!
you were an honor to your countrymen today, aslan. you fought better than twenty english knights.
well, the war is over. he stares across the desolate clearing.
there is too much blood on my hands.
my pride brought us to this.
i gave them nothing but false hope. tomorrow we will disperse. these people can move south and start over. you must go home and win your jasmina.
i am no longer your responsibility.
damn you, arab. i want you out of my life. can't you understand that? go home. go back to your own kind. aslan stares at him, then turns away. not the time for argument. robin fingers his father's medallion.  rips it from his neck.
damn you, too, father. you reared a coward and a fool. he hurls the medallion.  it catches on a low-hanging branch. cut to:
will! i thought you were taken.
how did you escape?
and will you? before will can answer, little john runs up. grabs will's throat.
john, wait. let us hear what he has to say.
a traitor sneaks in and out under cover of darkness. will walked in and announced himself.
let him speak.
you were to use this news to get close to me, and then kill me? right, will?
what is your intention, will?
how so?
you present quite a choice. what would you have me do, will?
and if i stay, will you all stay with me? robin checks the other faces.
there's your answer, will. we finish it.
will it work? aslan throws a handful of powder into the firel a fire- ball rips ten feet in the air.  tuck falls on his ass in terror.
you are truly a wizard.
we have no armored knights, no glorious banners. but i am honored to be going to battle in this company. today we fight not just for the lives of our friends, but to save all england. a moment of tension before will takes the proferred hand.
we may be only six men, but.
fanny, show me the exact location of the scaffold. little john double-takes.
friends! we must raise the gate.
light all the barrels, tuck.
jump! tuck jumps. robin steers the wagon at the gate. at the last second, he slashes the reins and leaps onto the horse's back.  the barrels explode! the portcullis is blown to kingdom come. out of the smoke, robin rides the old nag like a charger. leads his cheering, ragged fighters through the open gate.
where is she? where is lady marian?
ah! there is my answer. he hurls the man aside.  the armed guards charge him.
marian, run! it's me, robin. run! marian remains immobile. mortianna moves to her side. robin is struck in the thigh. like a vulture, the sheriff waits. tiring, blood pouring from his leg, robin prepares to fight him.
i warned you, i would find you no matter what.
watch out! aslan spins.  too late. screeching, mortianna drives the spear into aslan's side. he cries out and slides to the floor. nottingham uses robin's distraction to regain his sword. back on the defensive, robin tries to evade the blows. mortianna drags marian out onto a balcony. robin cannot pursue. in acute pain, aslan struggles to his feet. grasping the spear where it enters his side, he pulls with all his strength. the bishop, concealed dagger in hand, approaches tuck.
this is for my father.
i'm your sworn protector. any way i see fit.
i think she's feeling better. marian looks about her.  the chaotic aftermath of battle. reality gradually sinks in. she folds against robin's chest. little john arrives, his huge arms enfolding wulf and fanny.
it will mend. he spots a group kneeling beside the fallen body of aslan. his smile fades. he runs over. cradles aslan's head.
aslan, my friend.
here, tuck. look after him. you deserve each other. robin stands, marian joins him. around them cheering grows, till the whole crowd is in unison.
who would dare refuse his king's request?
we are deeply honored by your majesty's presence.
	123: