Most of the young English noblemen who flocked to his banner never returned home, presumably as a result of being dead.
Our tale begins in a dingy dungeon in Jerusalem, 1194 A.D...
Robin of Locksley and his friend Peter had got themselves into a spot of bother during the crusades. Captured and imprisoned, they faced having their hands severed as punishment for stealing bread.Robin placed his hand on the block and defiantly stared the axeman in the eye.
'This is English courage,' he said, in an accent that had perhaps been somewhat affected by his time in the Middle East, or something. At the critical moment, he pulled his arm away sharply, causing the blade to miss its target and sever the cord that bound him. He and Peter proceeded to totally kick the stuffing out of the guards.
'This is for five years of hell!' exclaimed Peter.
'Hey!' cried a mysterious man in a cage. 'I know a way out. Release me or you'll surely die!'
'Oh, all right,' conceded Robin. 'I suppose it's better than the horrible death that those rapidly approaching guards are going to subject us to. Let's go.'
So Robin, Peter and their new friend fled from the dungeon.'Thank you, Christian,' said the man. 'My name is Azeem. Follow me!'
The group emerged from the sewers, following the route that Azeem showed them. As they paused to savour the fresh air, Peter was fatally wounded by a well-placed arrow. 'Curse you, cruel fate!' lamented Robin.
'Robin...', gasped Peter with his dying breath. 'Give this ring to my sister Marian; promise to protect her. But no jiggery-pokery... I know what you're like.'
'I promise,' said Robin, crossing his fingers behind his back. 'Sorry you're dying and whatnot, but I think we'd better get going. Ta-ra!'
And with that, Robin and Azeem legged it down the alley.
'Thanks for your help, Mr Azeem,' said Robin. 'You got us out of a bit of a tight spot. Look me up if you're ever in the Nottingham area. Anyway, see you later!'
'Christian,' murmured Azeem, 'I cannot leave you. You have saved my life; I will stay with you until I have saved yours. That is my vow.'
'Vow, eh?' said Robin. 'You crazy foreigners. Still, it might come in handy later on.'
The men shook hands.
'You'll like England,' continued Robin: 'it's very racially tolerant.'
Four months later, the companions arrived at the sandy beaches of Dover. Robin had had a shave and cut his hair, and was decked out in an iconic green tunic. When they reached the shore, he prostrated himself in the sand and took a few mouthfuls of salty gravel to signify his love for his country. 'Come on, Azeem!' cried Robin. 'Let's go to my father's house. I was a bit shirty with him when I left for the old crusades, but this will be the perfect opportunity to bury the hatchet.'
On their way to the Locksley estate, Robin witnessed six soldiers haranguing a small boy. 'Why does it take six of you to apprehend a child?' Robin demanded. 'That's just bullying, and if there's one thing I don't like, it's a bully.'
To prove it, Robin single-handedly handed out a fairly severe kicking to the men. Disgusted, he pointed his sword into the throat of their ring-leader.
'May I have the honour of your name, before I run you through?' Robin enquired.
'Guy of Gisbourne,' stammered the man: 'the Sheriff's cousin.'
'Oh,' said Robin. 'In that case, I'd better not kill you, I suppose.
'But stay off my land!' he added, as Gisbourne scarpered like a flustered gerbil.
Upon arriving home, Robin was shocked to find his father's castle had become nothing more than a charred ruin. Even worse, the old man's body had been left to rot in a cage. 'Damn it!' exclaimed Robin. 'Now I'll never be able to take back all those things I said about his affair with that woman after my mother died. I am experiencing feelings of guilt and anger.'
Just then, a noise emanated from the shadows.
Robin drew his sword. 'Who's there?' he demanded.
'Master Robin?' came the tremulous reply. 'It's your old servant, Duncan. The Sheriff's men did this: they said your father was a devil-worshipper, and that he played cards on a Sunday.'
'And did you believe the charges?' asked Robin.
'Not even when they took my eyes, master.'
'Oh, you're blind,' noted Robin. 'Right.'
Later, the men made a dignified grave for Mr Locksley Senior, and Robin took his knife in his hand.
'I will not rest until my father is avenged; I swear it by my own blood!'
Blood from his palm cascaded over the freshly-dug earth.
'Ow! I've gone and cut myself now. This is turning out to be a really bad day.'
The next day, Robin decided to honour the dying wish of his friend Peter by giving the ring to his sister Marian. Marian, however, was not altogether pleased by his visit, and made a fairly concerted effort to murder him. 'Crikey!' gasped Robin, after managing to subdue her. 'What was all that about?'
'You used to burn my hair when we were children!' retorted Marian.
'Oh, Marian, I've grown out of such things,' he sighed. 'Now I set fire to mosques, and sometimes entire villages. Anyway, your brother's dead, and I rather promised him that I'd protect you.'
'Oh, Peter!' wailed Marian. 'You can't replace him, Robin, even if you are damnably handsome.'
Just then, a squad of men led by Guy of Gisbourne rumbled over the horizon.
'Oh, cripes!' groaned Robin. 'Now we're for it. For my first act of protection, I'll need to borrow a couple of your horses, and run away. See you!'
As they gallantly galloped away, Robin's horse was wounded, and with the Sheriff's men in hot pursuit, they had no choice but to seek refuge in the forest. 'This forest has eyes, I can feel it,' said Azeem, as they navigated through the dense mass of trees. 'Oh, sorry Duncan; I didn't think.'
Later, word reached the dastardly Sheriff that Locksley and his companions had escaped. 'This is rather inconvenient,' sneered the Sheriff. 'Mortianna! Tell me what the future holds!'
Mortianna was the witch who had raised the Sheriff since childhood. She was a bit psychologically unbalanced, and actually had flowers growing out of her head, for some reason. She consulted her fortune-telling brew of lizard's eggs and virgin's blood.
'The painted man!' she screeched. 'He will be our doom! Kill him: kill them all!'
To be continued... (click here for Part II)
