Original subtitles

Previously on "Robin Hood."

Burn the fields!

My daughter's blood is on that arrow.

Bring me Robin Hood or share his fate.

Once Prince John was here.

He'll be sure to meet you one day.

I'd do anything for you, Rob.

- The King's health. - The King's health.

I see a town where Saxon criminals

thrive under your leniency.

This is a Writ of Aid detailing

the threat posed by Robin Hood.

Each of you will pledge your loyalty by signature.

I cannot lend my name to a cause I do not trust.

If I hope to stay

in your care, I may require another injury.

The way the feathers have been cut,

only one man ever did that. Hugh of Locksley.

what Eleanor needs in Nottingham.

- A spy. - The true aim is

an audience with Robin Hood.

I want you to escalate your rebellion.

Locksley was there.

It's because of him that your brother's dead.

Are you saying that Robert of Locksley

is Robin Hood?

Marian.

What's wrong?

Say it isn't true.

It is you.

Marian, they hunted us like dogs.

Who?!

Your father and his men.

Marian.

Aronne was a horrible accident.

- An accident? - Yes.

Like robbing the Bishop.

Like almost killing Priscilla.

Like all of it!

It was all an accident!

I didn't mean for any of this to happen, Marian!

Doesn't matter what you meant!

What a fool I was to give you my heart.

To love you.

I never want to see you again.

Not ever.

I bid you farewell...

Robin Hood.

Another day.

Acres more of forest cleared,

and yet no sign of Robin Hood or his band.

What do you expect?

He's a forester's son.

He walks through those trees

like a man walking through the halls of his own home.

There are rumors in the villages

that he has taken his gold and fled,

even left England.

No.

He's still in Sherwood.

How can you be certain, My Lord?

Because I hung his father.

This fight is personal to him.

It is about his home.

His family.

It is about me.

He will not run, Gerold.

Not until he sees me standing across from him.

Uncle.

Come inside.

We can speak more freely in there.

Why did you ask to meet, Uncle?

Last week, the Sheriff summoned myself and the other elders.

He's out for your blood.

And I his.

Boy...

do you really believe that's a fight you can win?

He's a Norman sheriff appointed by the King-- a warrior.

Commander of a garrison that controls

- the whole of the Midlands. - I've evaded him so far.

You can't forever, you know that.

Go to France.

- You want me to run? - I want you to live.

If that means you have to run, then run while you still can.

Go and start a new life.

A new life?

As what, Uncle?

- As who? - As anyone you want to be.

As anything other than what you've become.

My sister educated you.

Taught you French.

Showed you how to conduct yourself among the Normans.

Go start a new life.

No.

Why? What holds you here?

It's the girl.

Isn't it?

It's Marian.

This has nothing to do with Marian.

She and I are no more.

You look like a wounded fawn.

With a broken heart, no less.

No, Your Majesty.

You are many things, Marian.

But a liar is not one of them.

There'll be others.

I only wanted him.

And yet you stand.

What passed between you?

He lied to me.

About who he is.

Then was the man you love ever real?

Your Majesty, may I walk from here?

Walk?

If you like.

Marian.

You mourn.

And then you move on.

That's the way of things.

You're a rare one.

It's not often I meet a man who can keep pace with me.

Well, meeting your standards is a pleasure all its own.

From Rhone.

Excellent vintage.

They say a man's choice in wine reveals his taste.

But I've always believed his company says more.

I tend to agree.

How did you come to serve the Queen?

I met Eleanor through a moment of need.

Where others saw only a woman cornered...

- Hm. - ...I saw a lioness.

I offered my help, and she accepted.

And what exactly do you do for her?

My place is to perceive things

others overlook.

I cut through deception

and recognize people for who they truly are.

It's useful to a Queen.

Mm.

And when you look at me, Marshal,

what do you see?

I see a woman who lives without apology.

Who pursues what she wants.

One who refuses to be tamed.

Flattery will get you everywhere.

You lost, little bird?

Maybe you need help finding your way.

Aah!

Aah! Aaah!

If you insist on death, I'd be honored to oblige.

On your way now.

My lady.

I apologize for my lateness.

On the contrary.

I believe you arrived just in time.

The outskirts of the city are full of scoundrels.

You'd do well not to travel alone.

I...

was on my way to Westminster.

Westminster. You must be a lady of standing then.

May I escort you from here?

Yes.

You may.

Mother!

I come bearing gifts.

My Lord... I did not know.

Because I did not say.

John.

You traveled alone? A prince?

The carriages are so slow and dull.

Simply no adventure to them.

Well...

right, I do see you found some adventure after all.

I look forward to getting to know you

while I'm here at my mother's court.

As you wish, My Lord.

Good as new.

Where'd you learn to do this?

My uncle was a cobbler.

Tried to make me one, too,

but I had a bad habit of running.

- From what? - Responsibility.

Could you teach me?

There are many things I could teach you, my Lady.

Oh, I'm-- I'm no lady.

What you are is plain to see.

Regardless of whether you work to hide it or not.

The other women wear dresses. You never do.

Why?

Ever since I was small, I've had to watch after my brothers.

A dress would've only made that harder.

Not any longer.

We're safe here.

I'll make you a dress, if you like.

- Oh, I... - I expect Rob would notice.

What does that mean?

I see the way your eyes follow him.

So?

Okay.

Much has changed since we last rode to war, but not your aim.

Well, some skills should never be lost.

Not even in peace, after a man has been granted lands?

And title?

We ought to be enjoying all we've won,

not worrying about Saxon criminals.

You mistake them for a threat, Huntingdon.

Saxons are an inferior people.

They don't plan, they don't think.

They don't rule, they exist to be ruled.

The King's blessing will come,

and when it does,

we'll thin the herd.

And if we wait too long?

As long as these criminals run free, none of us are safe.

It won't last.

The Sheriff hunts him like a man possessed.

Yet still he eludes them.

You doubt... the Sheriff's resolve.

I doubt everything about a man

whose failures endanger the rest of us.

So, what are you proposing?

Can the Sheriff survive if every earl and baron

beneath the Crown begins to question his police?

The Sheriff is the King's cousin.

You would risk his wrath?

I've fought beside Henry.

I know what he values.

Results.

Not incompetence.

These are the kind of things a man cannot be wrong about.

If you are,

it's a noose around your neck.

All the gifts I've been given in this life,

one remains the most true.

My aim.

Every day, more people come.

And our food stores won't last.

God will provide.

Not here, he won't.

The herds have moved on.

We'll grab what we can.

Use the Bishop's coin to buy the rest.

And when that runs dry?

We need more gold.

What would you have us do?

Rob the nobles.

Baron Warwick first.

Warwick's estate is one of the most fortified in England.

Because it's stuffed with gold.

And guarded by soldiers.

We're building a home here.

Things will be tough for a while,

but we'll manage.

Warwick burned the crops of a Saxon village.

Everyone there lost their homes.

Livelihoods.

Many will starve.

He must be made an example of.

To teach those who would tread on us

that nothing will keep them safe from Saxon vengeance.

We didn't come out here to build a home, Tuck.

We were chased here.

We're hiding here.

And I'm done hiding.

Broke it off with Rob, didn't you?

What makes you think that?

Your little walk.

The whole palace is talking.

I love him too, Marian,

but hate what he's done.

Does it even seem like Rob to you?

He knew I could never be with such a man,

yet did what he did as if my love,

my trust meant nothing.

Why not just spit in my face?

I thought he wanted more than just vengeance.

That he saw the world the way I did.

But maybe that man never existed.

Maybe...

I just wanted him to be what he never was.

You have a future here, Marian.

One you'd never find in the forest.

You'll see that soon enough.

Nottingham?

The Queen demands your presence.

Your Highness.

Seldom are we prepared for the moments that define us.

It is how we meet them

that reveal who we truly are.

Do you understand?

I don't believe so, Your Majesty.

Kneel.

You have served me with loyalty and resolve,

especially in Nottingham.

Few who enter my court prove themselves so swiftly.

You will swear your fealty to me,

and serve as lady-in-waiting.

Do you accept this honor?

Yes, Your Majesty.

Then from this day forward,

you shall no longer be known as Marian of Huntingdon.

Maid Marian of Locksley.

Rise.

Magnificent animal.

A rare thing, a war horse bred for battle rather than show.

Its grandsire was a gift

from a warlord in the Reconquista.

A superb horse.

I owe that animal my life.

Good boy.

Last time we spoke, Sheriff, civility was in...

short supply.

But I want you to know...

that I have great respect for you,

standing apart from the Barons

for refusing to sign the Queen's writ.

Hm.

That regard is why I'm here.

I came to speak with you about Priscilla.

Priscilla?

I would like your permission to court her.

As you have so many others.

I am neither deaf nor dumb to matters of Court.

Including the reputation...

of its lords.

My own is well-earned, I admit.

Yet you know as well as I the power the right woman has

to change a man's ways.

And you believe Priscilla to be such a woman?

I believe her to be, in every regard,

a woman without peer.

On that, we can agree.

Priscilla is the King's god-daughter

and my sole heir.

She is my heart.

Her value to me surpasses any treasure in this world,

which means the blessing I give you

comes hand in hand with a warning.

Any hurt done to her, by you...

shall be repaid a thousand-fold.

Perhaps...

should you ever

father a daughter of your own,

you will know this kind of love.

Do you understand?

Good.

And Earl Marshal...

good luck.

What's wrong with you?

First deer we've seen in days. I had him.

I know.

I-- I'm sorry.

Your mind's on the Norman girl.

Does it matter?

Well, unless she can help feed us,

your thoughts are best spent here.

I thought she was at the palace anyway.

- She is. - For good?

Yes.

Then she's where she belongs.

She's a Norman after all.

And you're where you belong.

In the forest.

A Saxon.

A Saxon like me.

Let's hunt.

Enter.

A unexpected pleasure.

I believe I have a debt to settle.

Though it seems like I'm paying with your own wine.

My mother's. But I'll stay quiet.

Your Highness, thank you for helping me.

Of course, Maid Marian.

Marian?

Will you have wine with me?

To debts repaid.

That song you were playing was beautiful.

"The Ballad of Luther and Berien."

A tale of lovers divided by fate,

only to find each other again in death.

Do you know it?

There was no music in my house as a child.

- What a pity. - Yours?

My father, long may he reign,

saw no use for music.

It was my mother who passed it to me.

She played harp and sang.

With her gifts, she would compose

most certainly were she not so occupied with conquests.

In my house, when the time comes,

music will fill the halls.

Every child I have will play.

It's the one force that bends without breaking.

Tames without killing.

You are the artist in the family, then?

Only because I am not the eldest.

If I were my brother, I'd be on a warhorse right now,

chopping off heads in the name of the crown

in conquests.

Instead, you are merely a prince.

And a fine musician.

You're not as one would imagine,

Your Highness.

You know, it's...

less enjoyable than you'd think, being a prince.

Why is that?

A prince holds too little power to shape the world

but just enough to make him believe he can.

It is a maddening illusion.

No matter.

I suspect there's little in this world

that dares deny you.

Do you?

- I've seen you fight. - I had to.

- You didn't have to. - And yet I did.

I find I don't regret it.

I should return to my duties.

Try this.

Mm.

Wild currants?

My mother used to pick them in the springtime.

Every year, I do the same.

Why did your father not remarry?

He had his companions, but I...

I suppose no woman could equal her memory.

Made for an interesting childhood.

I've been the woman of the house for as long as I can remember.

- The Lady of Nottingham. - Mm-hmm.

Certainly taught me much about men.

Oh, so this is the root of your discernment.

And the reason for my standards.

Only the best.

You're quite worth it, Priscilla.

As I told your father.

My father.

When I asked for his permission to court you.

Shouldn't you ask me?

Need I?

I suppose not.

Not when you know the answer.

You look weary, Sheriff.

A day in the saddle will do that.

Shame to work so hard

whilst others undermine your efforts.

You have something to say, Bishop?

Huntingdon has been meeting with the Barons.

Men meet, what of it?

It's given root to a rumor that you're not capable

of performing your duties as Sheriff.

An entire estate

he didn't lift a finger to earn,

and his thirst is still not slaked.

The man has never met a blessing

that he didn't turn into a curse.

Sire, Hood is trouble enough,

but if Huntingdon stirs the Barons,

he'll not only test your patience,

he'll test the King's.

Then I suppose he needs to be taught a lesson.

How are you finding Westminster?

It isn't exactly France, is it, Mother?

It most assuredly isn't.

Which begs the question...

what brings you here, my son?

The future, of course.

We both know Father's days are numbered.

When he passes, it is my intention--

his intention--

that I take his place.

Is it?

And which part of kingship

do you feel most suits you?

Well, the same part that suits the man now sitting there.

My blood.

Blood. That's all?

Blood makes men kings, Mother.

Ahh, and what of your brother's blood?

Richard is happiest on the battlefield,

far from the throne. He has his uses,

but the kingship is not one of them.

When you were a boy, your brother and you

shared a toy you both loved.

It was your favorite in the whole palace.

- Metal warhorse, remember? - Mm.

One day, it fell into the fire.

I cautioned you both not to touch it.

Richard was wise enough to heed me.

But you-- fire be damned--

reached in and plucked it out of it.

That was the day I knew

the throne would not be your path.

Why?

After all, I got what I wanted, didn't I?

Yes, John, but at what price?

Blood does not make a proper king.

Wisdom does.

Because, without it, a king's blood is

no different from a common fool's.

My path is decided.

And it will be the throne.

Sheriff.

To what do I owe the honor?

Surely Nottingham keeps you busy.

I am the law in Nottingham.

I and no other.

Challenge me again...

and I will kill you.

Get off me.

The others are talking.

About Warick.

What about Warick?

Well, they're worried it's too dangerous.

It is dangerous.

Then tell them why it's worth it.

...best way to win a war is to avoid conflict altogether.

He burned my village, I say we kill the bastard!

Brother, I've been on the other side--

Warick has men.

Yes, he has steel.

If we fail at this, we pay with our lives.

Just look at where we are.

Now, this place...

it was never meant to be our home.

No, we were driven here,

and not by a war.

Not by famine.

But by Normans.

By their laws, their taxes,

by men sitting in their halls,

counting money taken from our hands.

They rob us of our coin and they call it the law.

They take our land and call it their right.

They kill our people and call it justice.

But it is none of those things.

It is a game.

It is a game rigged,

with the rules written to keep us beneath them,

and yet they call us thieves.

Fine.

Then let us be thieves with a purpose.

Because you see, Warick's riches are not his,

no, they were taken from us.

His gold?

Our stolen sweat, our labor, their wealth,

but we are the outlaws.

Since we are named such,

let them see what outlaws can be.

It is dangerous

to take back what is ours.

But...

it is far worse to live as slaves.

Tomorrow...

we show them...

what's stolen...

it will be stolen back.

You sent for me, Your Highness.

Roses bloom in the sun,

and the whole world sees their beauty.

They make themselves visible.

Much rarer is the beauty that reveals itself at night.

This is why I love lilies.

Their greatest strength is kept to themselves

and revealed only to those

who have the patience to earn it.

There is a matter that weighs upon me.

Prince John means to take the throne.

But Richard is the rightful heir.

Any disruption to the line of succession

would invite instability.

Both England and France would suffer greatly.

I won't allow that future.

He would defy his own mother, the Queen?

John would defy anything

that doesn't serve John.

I must know his mind, his methods, his endgame.

Earn his trust,

discover his intentions.

How am I to do such a thing?

You already have.

Those who meet in passion and violence

are never strangers again.

Make yourself visible.

Be a rose, not a lily.

What if I'm neither?

You are whatever the situation requires.

I am your faithful servant as always.

Marian, tread carefully.

John wears many faces,

but few of them are true.

You've been carrying something.

More than usual.

When you vanished those few times,

where did you go?

I went to see her.

Marian.

Then she found out who I am,

and what I've become.

I take it she wasn't pleased.

There's more.

I made a deal.

A deal.

With who?

- Eleanor. - The Queen?

The Queen of England?

You just bump into her wandering about?

She sent for me.

What kind of deal did you make?

She wants to stir the rebellion.

- To what end? - To force the King

to come here.

So he dies in England and not France.

- Then Warick-- - I meant every word.

He deserves what's coming.

But the Queen. The Norman Queen.

She benefits as well.

And here I thought we were fighting for ourselves.

Not bloody Court intrigue.

And you get what?

If the King returns,

she will release Marian from her charge.

And you think if you give her freedom,

you win her back?

I think it's the only thing I have left to give her.

You are a fool.

I know.

John.

What we're about to do is what we should do,

but I won't pretend I don't have more to gain.

I just need to say it out loud.

What do I care why we get to steal his gold, hm?

As long as we do.

But Rob, this girl...

she's gone.

Maid Marian.

Roaming without an escort once again.

The Queen's halls hardly seem a place of danger.

Who's to say there are not predators here?

Then I shall have to tread carefully.

I thought of you earlier.

- Did you? - Mmm.

I never asked why you were wandering the countryside alone.

- To clear my head. - Of what?

Trouble.

Do your troubles vanish with your steps?

When I was a child, they seemed to.

Not anymore.

Not this one.

I think this trouble is best left where it belongs.

In the past.

With that, I can agree.

A lady in waiting who thinks and wanders so freely.

It's uncommon.

I wonder what else about you is uncommon.

Would you like a list?

Or shall I let you discover for yourself?

I prefer discovery.

It is far more interesting.

With that in mind, would you join me

in my chambers tonight?

- Your chambers, My Lord? - Mm.

With many others.

A celebration for my return to London.

Only my closest friends are invited.

An honor.

If you wish, I will be there.

I do.

You're troubled.

I came here because I saw a way

by which to fight back against the Bishop.

But fighting a baron's court,

to loot, to steal...

to kill?

Blood only begets more blood.

You were the one who said to hurt them, hm?

Take their money?

Perhaps I was rash with my words.

What is your struggle, Tuck?

In your Bible, your God's beloved

drowned his enemies in blood.

And yet...

the blood on David's hands kept him from building

the Temple of God.

A warning to those too eager to spill it.

God's hand is always for peace.

Then he will be disappointed tonight.

Let's go!

No.

Not yet.

- It's cold. - Then come back to bed.

Thought you Saxons were impervious to the cold.

Yes, My Lord.

- Intruders! - We are under attack--

Take them out!

Fencing.

Outlaws, sire.

You, get out!

Come on, come on.

Aah!

Finally, it gets interesting.

Rob!

Where is he?

Upstairs, in the master bedroom.

Baron.

Time to settle accounts.

You won't get away with this.

You hear me?

You have no idea who I am.

No, I know exactly who you are, Baron Warick.

You're a corrupt Norman lord

who burns Saxon fields and...

well, he takes what he pleases.

Our money. Our homes.

Our women.

You're an elitist parasite,

fattening himself on the labor of better men.

Thriving while my people starve.

And I would kill you.

But leaving you with no gold is a far crueler fate.

Still, you should thank your God, Baron Warick.

Because you'll wake up tomorrow.

Unlike so many of my kin.

Unlike my father.

I will hunt you down like a dog.

I will go to the Sheriff.

I will go to the King himself.

Aah!

Go, run to your masters!

Tell them Robin Hood sends his regards.

What a splendid gathering.

Indeed, so marvelous.

"Being most anticipated by His Holiness,

our audience must commence as soon as possible."

What are you doing?

I was admiring your taste in stationery.

Read anything of interest?

Oh, I would love to know how to read.

Do you think you could teach me?

I think we should come back to the party,

and we should drink more.

To what?

To discovering what the night has in store.

- You're late. - My apologies.

- I was delayed. - I trust it was important.

I have received word from the Queen.

I'm being called back to Westminster.

So just like that, you must return.

When the Queen calls, I answer.

And when will you return?

I don't know.

I hope... however...

not to return alone.

What do you mean?

Come to London with me.

As what?

I'm neither your wife, not your sister.

Us traveling together will be scrutinized,

especially to Court.

People will talk.

Which means...

we must give them something worth saying.

That won't be a problem... will it?

No...

Earl Marshal.

That won't be a problem at all.

What is the meaning of this?

Robin Hood has robbed Baron Warick.

I am holding you--

the leaders of the Saxon community-- responsible.

You will be jailed until Robin Hood comes forward

and submits himself to Norman justice.

Sire, these men did nothing wrong.

Irons.

Sire, please.

This is a dangerous act, sire,

- and a dangerous precedent. - No, Gamewell.

Sire, please!

This is the end of my patience.

And the beginning of a reckoning.

I tried.

An audience with the Archbishop of Lyon.

Yes. I read it in his own hand.

You're sure?

As a child, I was made to learn the seals of each archbishop.

I recognized that of His Excellency,

Bishop Jean Bellesmains of Lyon.

Clever John.

You seek the Pope's blessing.

What does he stand to gain by it?

Everything.

The trick is to stop the pawn before it crosses the board.

Stay close to the Prince.

See what else he reveals.

- ♪ To all the Norman scum ♪ - ♪ Scum! ♪

♪ We're gonna kick your bum ♪

- ♪ Arse ♪ - ♪ So pack your bags ♪

♪ And off to France while we sing our tunes and dance ♪

Mmm, you saw where he did--

you were like, "Ah-ha-ha!"

John!

John, put Milange down.

For the last time,

John, put Milange...

Rob...

I wanted you to see me...

as I am.

I know.

Have I not made myself plain, Rob?

Is there any doubt what I'm offering you?

Take me to your bed.