“The sheriff has not been able to capture Robin Hood,” Marian said, wondering about those two men. As children, they’d been rivals of a sort. Had that rivalry grown into something more ominous? Will was charged with catching, sentencing, and, if necessary, executing bandits such as Robin. “I trow the prince cannot be happy with that lack.”

“Nay, but the prince himself has been witness to Robin Hood’s cleverness. John and Nottingham have plotted many traps for the bandit, each one more dangerous than the last. And Robin Hood seems always to slip through the smallest crack and to make his escape. The sheriff was to execute a boy for treason. Hang him on the dais in the Ludlow bailey, in front of all who wished to watch. He intended to make an example of the poor boy.”

“Treason? ’Tis a serious offense.” And must be punished if law and order were to be kept. But a boy?

“Aye. The boy claimed he took only a deer that was already dead from the forest, in order to feed his family.”

Marian felt a little pang in her middle. It was treason to steal from the king, indeed, but . . . “Surely the beast was examined. It would be no hardship to determine if it had been freshly slaughtered.”

Sir Roderick shrugged. “Aye, and there were those who claimed the deer had not been recently killed. But the sheriff meant to hang him anyway, the boy. Merely fourteen winters he was, and if it weren’t for Robin Hood, the boy would have been swaying in the breeze.”

“Robin Hood?”

“Aye. He rescued him right off the scaffolding, whilst the sheriff could do naught but look on furiously.”

Fourteen. That was the same age Will and Robin had been that last summer spent at Mead’s Vale. Hardly boys, but not quite men.

Again she wondered about their rivalry. Even that short moment in the clearing, before she’d recognized Will, the antipathy between the men had been palpable.

Was it possible that they hadn’t recognized each other?