Previously on "Robin Hood."
Hear now, the good Sheriff
has placed a reward of 200 ducats
for the murderer Robert of Locksley.
Then he won't be at the Western Ridge no more.
It was your wish to have Locksley arrested.
You are the father of all this.
I'll join the hunt, I'll kill the boy,
and I'll take your half.
You chose to defile yourself
before marriage with Lefors.
That child is an affront to my name.
-Who are you? - I'm Rob, of Sherwood.
- And the three of you are? - The Miller brothers.
I'm Ralph, that's Drew, he's Henry.
Marian of Huntingdon, I'm Celene De Fitzou,
Dame d'Honneur to Her Majesty.
You're on duty from sunrise to sunset,
that means ready before dawn, and you start with bed duties.
- You're a girl. - Maybe tomorrow
- you can teach me. - You ready?
Hey!
- Aah! - Who are you?
- You're hiding from something. - The Sheriff's after me.
Alive! I want a public execution!
- Sheriff. - Huntingdon.
If they're going west, they're headed
for the River Trent, believing Sherwood will
- offer them safety. - We'd like to join the hunt
to ensure they don't.
So, which one of you is Locksley, then?
Down, you, down!
Come on...
Pain? Just remember that no man has
ever earned a name worth having without it.
Run, John! Run!
My boy.
Locksley!
It's strange, the things I remember
from that night in the forest with you.
The way you made me feel.
Like I was floating.
If God would grand me eternity in that place,
it's all I'd ever need.
That moment with you,
I can never forget.
What was the name of that tree?
Is it too much to hope
that a night like that can happen again?
I think of you, Rob.
Every day.
It's been weeks now.
I have to imagine you're doing much better.
Preparing for a life as a forester, no doubt.
At the palace, at least I have found
one small sanctuary.
A place in the Queen's gardens.
When I gaze up,
I imagine I'm in Sherwood.
Right beside you.
I miss you, Rob.
I am always and forever yours.
Marian.
The forest is vast, my Lord.
Parts uncharted.
They could be anywhere from the Western Ridge
to Southwell.
Or the northern reaches of Oxford.
We're but 50 men.
We'd need more to find them.
Many more.
Mm.
Give the Bishop a drink.
Why not bring men from the garrisons at Warwick?
Or Leicester?
They'll want coin for that.
There's not enough in the town's coffers.
Who will pay?
Still, we must deal with this. The question is how.
There are plenty of thieves and brigands
hiding in the forest, what's a few more amongst them?
Besides, they'll perish soon enough from lack of food.
The forest is a godforsaken place.
Nothing survives there for long.
Except the Saxons, who seem built for its habitat.
Leave us.
One of Huntingdon's boys was killed.
- I heard. - I want you to...
preside over his funeral.
Priscilla will accompany you to represent me.
I wish Huntingdon had never come to me.
His greed is the cause of this unrest.
Now the men say the forest is haunted.
Haunted?
By some...
unholy spirit,
one that protects the Saxon outlaws.
Pagan superstition was never a match for Norman steel.
Or the war horse. It trampled Saxon beliefs
when we conquered these shores. It will do so again.
You forget one thing, Bishop.
The war horse is useless in the forest.
No dog deserved that.
- Tell him to be quiet. - He's hungry is all.
We all are.
We could get food from the woodcutters.
- They'll help us. - The Sheriff will have
thought of that.
You think there'll be soldiers in the villages?
Be sure of it.
If we want to stay alive, we stay in the forest.
The deer have moved too close to Nottingham
for us to hunt. We can't chance it.
And the rabbit alone won't be enough.
Then what do we do?
There's plenty to be had elsewhere.
We just need the guts to take it.
- Where? -The road to Hereford.
Yeah.
It's the biggest market north of Oxford.
We want to eat, that's where the food is.
Let's go then, I'm hungry.
It'll be dark soon. We'll leave in the morning.
Are you all right?
He was young, only a bit older than me.
He would have killed Drew,
but you saved him.
Father.
Is it true?
One of Huntingdon's sons was killed by Locksley?
Gerold said it was impossible to see who it was.
Doesn't matter. They're all guilty.
The Bishop said we should forget about them.
Leave them in the woods to die.
Since when did Saxons killing Normans go unpunished?
Let alone forgotten?
The Bishop is a fool, Father.
They must be captured and held to account.
If Saxons can wantonly disregard our laws,
then what does it even mean to be Norman?
They will be caught.
And they will pay.
Nottingham!
You need a firm hand with that one.
Marian, focus on your work.
This is the palace.
I've been ruminating on our problem.
- Yes? - We will put up
a new reward for Locksley and those he runs with.
A reward large enough to bring in
200 men who will hunt him down.
- We? - Yes, we.
Half will come from Nottingham's coffers.
The other half, from the Abbey.
Oh, my Lord...
the Abbey doesn't have funds for such an endeavor.
We barely have enough to feed and clothe our flock.
Besides, the boy is nothing.
I know.
Yet he sets a dangerous precedent.
Which we must deal with.
Rebellion can spread,
like a plague.
The crown expects us to keep the peace, both of us.
If we can't, then no matter my relation with Henry
or yours to Rome, we become expendable.
Locksley is a burden we both share.
Once they're caught, the moneys will be repaid
- from taxes. - My Lord.
There is another matter.
Priscilla.
- Priscilla. - After Aronne's funeral,
I wish you to take her to the convent.
Priscilla is bright,
more capable than most men I know,
but... she is...
spirited.
Being third cousin to the King, Henry her godfather,
she has a name to live up to.
The convent is where she will best
be protected from herself,
before her eventual betrothal.
I understand.
He's on his way to Hereford Market, no doubt.
And that way?
Leicester and to Watling Street,
all the way to London town.
- You've been to London? - Many times.
I ain't never seen nothing like it.
Folks there like ants.
I want a closer look.
Come on, Henry.
What's up with that one?
Her name is Ralph.
Wolf in sheep's clothing.
- Probably kept her safe. - So she says.
The boy she killed...
he wasn't a bad person.
He was hunting us.
He would've killed any of us gladly.
It's not on us.
This is the fault of the Normans.
If we're bad men, they made us so.
A supply wagon to the Abbey.
- They'll have food. - Eh, we should leave them be.
They're men of God.
Not our God.
Stop!
No, no, leave us, please!
Get away, or I'll bash you.
Stop!
I'm not afraid of you.
You think I'm just going to let you steal?
I think, for your sake, you should.
Follow your friend. I don't want to hurt you.
Enough!
Come on, fellow. Back to the Abbey.
I can't go back.
- Henry. - Huh?
Give me a hand.
- Let's get him on the cart. - No, no, no--
I can't go back.
They'll whip me.
You seemed to handle yourself fine here.
It won't be a fight. It'll be a cell.
The Abbott is not a kind man.
He'll perish out here.
Robbed... or beaten.
Well, he can't come with us. He's a Norman.
Where else am I to go?
I am in this situation because of you.
- Drew! - Yeah?
Turn the cart around.
The horses will find their way home.
Don't expect you'll stay long with the likes of us.
Here. Carry something.
After the funeral, you will travel on with me
- to Hereford Abbey. - Hereford Abbey?
You are to reside there under my wardship
in the convent.
What do you mean?
It's what your father has decided.
For the benefit of your welfare
and eventual betrothal.
You mean my virtue.
Let us pray a suitor can be found
who's amiable to the task.
- I won't go. - Yes, you will.
Otherwise you will live the rest of your life
in servitude, and your virtue will be
nothing but a withered rose.
Now come, Priscilla.
Let us pay our respects to Earl Huntingdon
for the loss of his son.
Why didn't you run off with your friend?
Oh, I baked that bread. Collected the honey.
We were hungry.
That doesn't mean you're free to steal.
You're a Trappist.
You took a vow of silence.
Why would you choose such a life?
My father wanted me to be a priest.
He placed me in the church as a boy.
But the Bishop sent me to the Abbey to work.
Mm, like a slave, no doubt.
And you still dedicate your life to Christ?
You should despise Him.
On the contrary, Christ kept my faith.
He protected me all these years.
You should've said I should despise the Bishop.
- Do you? - He's a tyrant.
His faith only extends to the gold
that lines his pockets and all it buys him.
And why does your God allow such behavior?
He doesn't allow it.
We do.
And you, what are you hiding from out here?
I killed a man.
You'll surely pay for it.
Murder is a sin in the eyes of the Lord.
My lord is Godda.
She is my protector.
Saxon gods will lead to nothing but damnation
- and more violence. - And Christ,
- I should put my faith in Him? - If you wish to be saved, yes.
In a life devoted to the Church,
you may find redemption.
What's your name?
Tuck.
Friar Tuck.
Amen.
The man you killed.
Who was he?
He was a Norman soldier.
A captain of Nottingham's garrison.
He attacked you.
Like the men who attacked us.
No, no.
I could've walked away.
I could've run.
But I didn't.
Do you wish you had?
I don't know, Ralph.
What would have it mattered?
The Normans are everywhere.
Where is there left to go?
Does the King ever leave France to come to England?
Since I've been here, only once.
And are the rumors true?
Did Eleanor lead a revolt against Henry?
I don't know the full truth.
But the King won't allow Eleanor to leave England.
And her sons?
They say Richard will be the next king.
And a great one, I believe.
Richard is a true warrior.
What about the youngest? Prince John?
Just once Prince John was here.
He was quite pleasant to look at.
A nobleman.
There was something about him...
What?
Don't know, hard to say.
But if you stay around,
you'll be sure to meet him one day.
If I whisper your name,
will you hear me?
Rob.
Marian. Come on.
Don't dilly.
How's the new one doing?
Honestly, I don't know why she's here.
I don't think she does either.
Not everyone adapts to palace life quite so easily.
Is everything ready?
Yes, Your Highness.
The Earl Marshal's ship landed at Dover last night.
When do we expect him?
He should arrive today...
unless he's robbed en route.
Earl of Pembroke robbed?
What would England be coming to?
An island of peasants, poachers, and...
too many forests.
Indeed, France it is not.
But we shall endure.
Celene, bring her to me.
Your Highness?
Marian.
Yes, Your Highness.
Hold up, Mary. Look here.
A bit of rough and tumble.
Cart on its way to market, pilfered, most like.
It went...
but they went that way.
Then best we go that way.
Let's have a look.
Might be some food in it for us.
What do you want?
To pay my respects.
Well, pay your respects at Aronne's grave.
He's the one who's dead.
I am sorry for your loss.
It is a tragedy for one to die so young.
Especially at the hands of Saxon cowards.
This is all Locksley's doing.
I had him.
But he slipped away and took my boy's life.
It's my fault.
Why do you say that?
I should have made sure young Locksley was killed
along with his father. Never leave
the son of an enemy alive. One will always pay for that.
But I'll find him. And I'll kill him.
But not today.
Today...
I will grieve.
A man...
shouldn't have to grieve alone.
I could stay with you tonight.
If you wish.
But in the eyes of the Church, it...
it may be considered improper.
I'll handle the Bishop.
Another Norman soul lost.
And those Saxon murderers run free.
Where is she? We should be on our way.
Priscilla has offered to stay
to pack away Aronne's belongings.
The Sheriff wants her taken to the convent at Hereford.
Priscilla to the convent?
Bernard will see she gets there tomorrow.
As you wish.
To Leicester.
Stop wasting time.
- I wanna get-- - Hold there.
I told you we shouldn't've followed.
- We mean no harm. - Who are you?
The name's Spragart. That's Mary.
Thieves by profession.
Let him go.
Thought you were a poacher.
Well, I've got many talents, ain't I?
You're Locksley, I know you.
And I you.
I heard you killed a man.
We've all killed plenty of folks.
Two more won't make a difference.
Easy, boy.
We're all Saxons here.
We're hungry.
We haven't eaten in days.
You got any food?
We'll share our food, but not our time.
Any trouble...
and this'll be the last day you breathe.
That's Henry. And Friar Tuck.
Right pretty bunch. Fearsome, too.
No wonder the Sheriff put a bounty on your head.
You in particular, Locksley, made you worth a prince.
- Prince of Sherwood. - You be thinking about it,
and this'll be your reward.
We're hungry is all.
Put that down, you big lump.
I think we found some kin, Mary.
Young Rob, in the hood.
We've got some things in common, you and I.
I've nothing in common with you.
Take food and be on your way.
Mary and me can help you steal more.
Hey.
I curse the Norman.
Spit on them elitist whores.
They took everything from me.
Like they took your pa and hung him straight.
We're the same, you and me.
Saxon as the dirt we was born on.
Now, what do you say?
We take their food.
And hurt them all we can.
If you want to hurt the Normans, you don't steal their food.
You steal their money.
Come closer.
You're failing in your duties.
You apply yourself poorly,
and you don't know a hard day's work.
How will you ever become a lady in waiting?
Well? Am I wrong?
- No, Your Highness. - I asked you before--
do you know why you're here?
I was sent here at my father's bequest.
I believe the Sheriff arranged it.
At my burden, it would seem.
I will do better, then, Your Highness. I promise.
If you'd only heard all the promises I'd been made.
Once I was promised Spain.
Look at me.
What do you see?
Your Highness?
What do you see? It's a simple question.
A queen.
The Queen of England.
Queen of France, Duchess of Aquitaine.
Heiress to the House of Portiers.
And a wife of King Henry II.
All of that, and yet I cannot leave England.
I am detained, a captive.
Some even say no better than a prisoner.
Sound familiar?
And yet...
from this palace, I am informed.
I correspond.
I make allegiances.
I make decisions.
And I rule.
As women...
we are often put in circumstances
not of our choosing.
But that doesn't mean we don't have power
over the men who put us there.
We only have to recognize our power
and become skilled at using it.
Sir William Marshal, Earl of Pembroke, Your Highness.
In time... I will teach you such power.
- Earl. - My Queen.
- Hope you traveled safely. - Indeed.
Mm.
Steal the reward money?
If you do, they won't have enough money to pay the bounty.
- No bounty-- - No bounty hunters.
True, no reward,
others won't risk their necks.
Less men hunting us.
One condition.
You let me stay with you for now,
and my share will go to the poor.
You agree to this, or I won't help you.
Fine.
You do what you will with it.
The reward will be made up of the King's taxes.
They're ferried from Leicester to Nottingham.
They always stop at Stafford's Mill
to rest the horses. You can surprise them there.
We get caught, they'll string us up.
Well, we're already marked for that
so what's the difference?
And Mary's been hung already.
Rope weren't strong enough to break her neck.
I'd say the King owes me.
Let's go to Stafford's Mill.
Tuck, how many men does the Bishop travel with?
Uh...
two clerks and two soldiers.
Are you sure?
Yes.
It's never been more.
No one's ever been fool enough to rob the Bishop.
Till now.
If you shoot one of the soldiers in the leg,
- the other will scare off. - Not sure it'll be that easy.
What's it matter anyway? They're Norman soldiers.
That doesn't make them evil.
They serve the same evil.
Their kind murdered my father.
Whatever befalls them, they've brought onto themselves.
And what would your father to such reasoning?
He would say, "Listen to your mother,"
who would say, "You sound like a fool, Rob."
And what your Godda say?
She'd say kill them all.
Ha!
-New one? -From Nottingham.
The Sheriff's daughter, Priscilla?
- I'm not that foolish. - I hear the Sheriff's daughter
is quite spirited.
Just your type then.
No, this one's the Earl of Huntingdon's girl.
Huntingdon.
Blunt axe, good in battle.
- Where is he now? - A sheep farmer, I believe.
Which I'm certain doesn't suit his temperament.
Let's hope not. Restless men are useful.
So, you're grooming a new spy.
Can a queen have too many?
Tell me about my husband. How is he?
Oh, I thought you'd ask me about the King's mistress first.
I'm more interested in his health.
Or rather any indication it might be failing.
Blueberry? There was a mess back there.
Thank you.
These are good.
The flower. Reminds you of someone?
Uh, yes, um...
daughter of a Norman lord.
You killed a Norman captain
and slept with another Norman's daughter?
No, I didn't sleep with her.
Where is she now?
Uh-- London.
Is she coming back?
I don't know.
If she doesn't...
just means there's someone out there better for you, Rob.
This is everything, Your Eminence.
You two.
Have extra men accompany us,
and see that the carriage is ready in the morning to leave.
How do we know they'll come?
Because tomorrow is the last day of the month.
They always collect the taxes on the last day.
Don't you know that's tomorrow?
He's a monk.
Monks use the Julian calendar to count the days.
It's named after Julius Caesar.
You're schooled.
By my mother's hand.
Our Rob's a proper nobleman.
And what if they don't stop to rest?
No, we'll make sure they stop.
We'll put a log across the river.
- It will float away. - Not a rotten one.
Hollow and weighed down with rocks.
Like catching eels.
Cunning.
So...
is it true?
Just tell me.
Yes, it's true.
Leicester would support the Queen's rebellion.
York too, I suspect.
The problem is Nottingham.
Of course, the Sheriff will always side
with the King.
They're blood...
That's why Eleanor is grooming a new spy.
Plucked straight from Nottingham.
She's a maid.
Makes her all the more fun.
Well, that was a lot of fun.
I must say, you two ladies certainly have a lot of energy.
Ladies.
Marian!
What are you doing out here?
Enjoying the stars.
Well...
there certainly are more interesting things
to enjoy than stargazing.
Really?
Like raiding the Queen's cellar
and chasing her servants?
Let me guess.
You miss the forest.
Not everyone loves palaces and grand halls
as much as you, Will.
Well, it doesn't matter that I love them.
It matters that I'm in them.
Nottingham was a fine place to begin life.
But I suppose...
you and I...
we weren't meant to stay.
Yet my heart remains in Sherwood.
I told you,
you would do well to forget Rob.
For your own sake.
That's the problem with love.
You stop doing things for your own sake.
You sound quite...
tragic, Marian.
Are you sure I can't help provide you a little remedy?
Good night, Will.
Good night, Marian.
What were you praying for?
That our actions may bring about some good.
But I'm not sure God will hear me.
Perhaps I must accept what we're about to do.
- Make peace with it. - Peace?
I saw my father try to live in peace.
And the Normans hanged him.
How is peace possible?
Christ shows us how.
He teaches us to love our enemy.
Do good to those who hate us.
You know your Bible.
Eh, it's not my Bible.
It's the book of my enemy.
I am not your enemy.
Why did they hang your father?
They say he killed a man, but he didn't.
He couldn't have.
- And you blame the Sheriff? - Who else?
And I'll have my revenge.
And that'll make you happy?
It'll make things right.
Lex talionis, "Eye for an eye."
Also your Bible.
And still that same book says,
"'Do not repay evil with evil.
Vengeance is mine,' says the Lord."
Revenge will bring no good.
You've already spilled blood.
Do you feel better?
It would be the same with the Sheriff.
You could kill him a thousand times over,
it would never fill the hole in your heart.
Vengeance will not heal you.
You were to be at the convent by now.
Did you think I would simply comply?
Yes!
Well, think again, Father.
You defy me?
Don't turn your back on me, how dare you.
How dare you.
I am your father.
And I am your daughter.
Yet you send me off with that gluttonous snake
and decide my future without so much as a word to me.
For your own good. For your protection.
Besides, it is my right...
to decide your future.
By the laws of this land,
by the hand of the King himself.
You're right.
Now... I turn my back on you, Father.
Sire.
- Drop the knife! - Drop it!
- No, Milange! - Get him!
Milange, stop.
Sire, I-- I'm sorry.
Here they come.
- Two? You said-- - There's always two.
Always has been.
That's half a dozen with the driver,
- that's-- - That's too many.
They won't scare off!
They can't see all the soldiers.
Please let them pass. Please let them pass.
Oh, sweet mercy.
No!
Where'd they all come from?!
It's too many!
Aah!
Henry!
Aagh!
Let me see, let me see. Move, move, move.
I need to see it.
- You're gonna be okay. -Henry!
You're gonna be okay. We just need to seal the wound.
The whole Church-- you disgrace us all!
I pity you.
- He don't deserve no pity. - Please.
- Have mercy. - You can beg to Mary.
Her dead body will be the last thing you see.
Enough!
Let him go.
You killed soldiers. King's men.
You're damned. All of you damned!
Damned by who, Bishop?
- Who are you? - He's "Rob in the Hood."
Prince of Sherwood, no less.
I swear by God Almighty,
you and your ragged bunch will be brought to justice.
No.
It's you, Bishop, who will be brought to justice.
But today, run.
Go and tell the Sheriff
I claim his reward.
Run before I kill you.
No... no, no...
How much is it?
A king's ransom.
It's His Eminence!
They stole the reward money.
All of it.
What happened?
Tell me.
- A terror. - Who did this?
In the forest.
A heinous devil.
Devil?
By what name?
Answer me.
What name?
By the name of Robin Hood.