by Kate Danley
Sir Richard shook his head. "You're a fool, but the best kind, Robin." He pointed. "I shall search that quadrant, you take the one to the west. We will find her." His voice dropped as he spoke more to himself than the young man beside him. "We shall find her."
Sir Richard took off one direction and Robin urged his horse in the other. He slowed as fog grew. The charger pranced nervously, picking up his feet as if he could sense Robin's fear. Robin reached down and patted the animal's dappled neck. "We must find your mistress," Robin murmured, unsure if he was calming himself or the horse. "And then we shall return you to the warmth of your stable and all the oats a fine beast like yourself can eat."
Almost on top of it and shrouded in mist, Robin spotted where the foliage had been broken from his earlier ride. He turned to call Sir Richard and any of the other guardsmen. But as he scanned his surroundings, he realized he was completely alone.
He dismounted and took the horse's reins in his hand. Slowly, he picked his way through the ferns and brambles. A stinging nettle caught his ankle. The stabbing pangs were almost a welcome distraction from the fear, which clenched his stomach and twisted.
He discovered the horse he and Little John had abandoned. He was now wandering through the scrub. The animal dodged away as Robin tried to grab his reins, deciding he had enough of the outlaw’s company.
The fact Marian had not taken the animal and ridden it to the castle filled him with foreboding. Where had she gone? What had happened to the guards who had been chasing him and Little John? What had happened to her?
The burls and knots of the trees turned into frightful faces full of judgment that faded in and out of the grey air. There were bears and wolves and wild boar, as well as other outlaws in Sherwood. He prayed Marian had found a place to hide. He prayed she was biding her time until she could find her way back.
He would look for her until he dropped dead himself.
Her memory had kept him alive during his time in the oubliette.
He would not allow her to disappear when she had saved him.
He wandered for hours, finding a footprint here, a broken branch there. Each was a sign of hope that she was still alive, but it felt like wandering blindly along a cliff's edge. He steeled himself with every step for the worst.
Her hair gave her away.
A flash of bright red stood out in the mist. She was crouched down behind a tree and startled when his feet rustled the leaves behind her. She held her hand to her heart as if she feared it might leap from her chest, and then motioned at Robin to join her.
He knelt by her side, aware of the nearness of her body. She brought her lips to his ear and whispered, her breath barely moving her words. "The Sheriff's men found where Little John rested. They have been searching for you."
"Your uncle fears for your life."
Marian's green eyes flashed at Robin. "Fuss... fuss... fuss..." she grinned.
"I have brought a horse—" Robin began, nodding to where he left the steed.
Marian shook her head. "The guards will hear us."
And then, as if she had been scrying into the future, there was a distant call. "Horses! They must be around here somewhere."
"Come on," said Marian, waving at Robin to follow.
He stopped her for just a moment, silently tucking the stray lock beneath her hat. She gave him a grateful smile and then continued. Wordlessly, they crouched, carefully keeping below the ferns, making sure they did not brush against the fronds and give their position away.
They crested a hill and came to a swiftly running brook. Marian motioned for Robin to follow her upstream. They were moving away from the direction they needed to go, but Robin hoped the Sheriff's men would choose the obvious route, buying him and Marian more time to get to the stronghold.
Finally, as the bank curved around and hid them from sight, Marian relaxed. She gave Robin a nod. "There should be enough distance to keep us safe."
Robin dropped to his knees and drank his fill from the crystal clear water.
She rested her hand on Robin's back with concern. "How is John? Did you make it in time?"
Robin rose. The emotions crashed down like a wave now that there was a sliver of relief from the nightmare. He splashed his face to hide his fear. "He is weak. He’s lost so much blood, but he is alive." He clenched his jaw, thinking of all his friend endured to save his life. He thought of the danger he brought to Marian and her family. Of everything that happened. Even the rushing water seemed to whisper your fault... your fault... "As soon as John is strong enough to travel, we shall return to the forest."
"You know my uncle will welcome you and protect you for as long as you need," she stated softly. "You are a friend to our family."
Robin's memories drifted back to that day in Sherwood Forest when he first met the knight, of all the pieces that fell into place from that fateful point in time to bring them to this terrible moment. "I did not realize Sir Richard was your uncle. Did he tell you we met?" Robin asked.
"But you and I, we've met twice," Marian said.
Robin looked at her in shock. She had given no indication she had recognized him before.
As if reading his mind, she explained, "We were very distraught that terrible day with the robbers. Both of us. It seemed a strange time to bring up that we... I did not know if you remembered me... From the May Games?"
"Not remember you?" asked Robin in disbelief. He wanted to tell her that she was his everything. That he had clung to her image during the moments he wanted to die. That the few moments they had together were the moments that kept him alive.
"There was an archery tournament, which you won," she reminded him, almost as if bracing for him to swear he had no recollection.
"It is a day I hold in my heart," he replied, trying to hide the weight of those words from his voice, trying not to scare her away with the whole that she had become. "I have never forgotten it. Or you."
Marian flushed, her brash, strong manner suddenly vulnerable and tender.
And Robin considered...
Just a moment...
Before it was hidden from him once again...
That perhaps she had thought about him, too.
But the moment passed. Instead, Marian pushed on and said, "After Little John took me home, I relayed how you had kept me safe and protected my honor. Then, my uncle shared with me that you were the savior of our home and land. You have done our family two great kindnesses. I know that being able to repay you by protecting you is something my uncle will greet with gladness." Marian climbed onto a rocky ledge and then reached out to take his hand. Robin teetered, the adrenaline wearing off and the exhaustion settling in. He steadied himself on her arm and she looked at him in concern. "You have been so worried about Little John and my survival, I fear you are in a bad state yourself."
Robin tried to smile with reassurance, but his knees buckled slightly as he scrambled up. "A great deal has happened since we last met."
They stood for a moment. Marian draped his arm over her shoulder and slipped hers around his waist. "Let us get you home to safety, and you can tell me everything."
"How far away are we?" Robin asked.
"If we stay to the forest and avoid the road, Blidworth is about two hours by foot," Marian replied, apologetically, as if somehow she was responsible.
Robin nodded, trying to take more of his own weight. "My cousin Will once went to Blidworth and said it was so lovely, if he ever met the right girl, he'd marry her there. Always swore he meant to get back."
"I was born there," said Marian, trying to keep the conversation light. He grimaced, clutching a stitch in his side. "We should stop and rest," suggested Marian.
But Robin knew they might not have the luxury of time. He shook his head. "We have no idea how much danger we are in. I will be fine," he replied, trying to put on a brave face.
Marian did not believe it. Instead, she tried to distract him. "So, what of your cousin Will?" Marian teased. "Does he rot in the cou
nty gaol?"
"No," confessed Robin, ashamed. "I, in fact, was the one rotting in gaol. He rode off to create a diversion as Little John executed my escape. I pray that he found his way to safety. The fact they were so quick to follow us leads me to believe something went wrong." Robin could not pretend strength any longer. He leaned against a tree.
Marian's eyes widened with concern. "How did they capture you?"
Robin waved her worry away. "I was a fool. I went into Saint Mary's church in Nottingham." He weighed whether to tell her that the abbot who betrayed him was the very man her uncle had been indebted to, a man Robin later robbed. He decided to keep it simple. "The priest and I had met in the past, and he was none too fond of me."
"You did not," she stated, aghast. "You don't go confess your sins in a church filled with your enemies. It is the church across the street from the county prison!"
"I was seeking forgiveness for what happened on the road that day... I hoped to wash away the sins I have gathered since living in Sherwood," he replied. He softly sighed.
"You went there because I suggested that a confession might lighten the load?" She stepped away and hid her face in her hands in horror, then wiped her mouth as she collected herself. "You silly boy. You could have confessed it to the trees! To a poor friar! To anyone! A burden carried is much lighter when shared between two people. You didn't need to go in there."
A hawk screamed above in agreement.
Robin stood and began to walk again. "It seemed like somewhere a person like you might recommend going for forgiveness—"
"A person like me?" Marian cut him off with a rueful laugh. "You think I care about the sins written down in Latin when sins are being committed against God's own people out here in the world?" Though her rebuke could have cut, she was gentle as she draped his arm across her shoulder and took his weight. Robin's breath caught in his chest as Marian leaned against him. She took off her hat and her curly red hair brushed against his cheek. "You are, I think, doing more than any tithe to earn your way into heaven."
They walked in silence, Robin stumbling though he tried so hard not to show his weakness.
"When did this happen?" she asked.
"The day after we last met."
"So almost two weeks ago?" she replied.
"Has it really only been only two weeks?" asked Robin. "It seems like a lifetime."
She squeezed his hand. "We shall get you home to my uncle's stronghold, and there you may convalesce until you are quite yourself again. You shall be so overwhelmed with the luxuries he's about to heap upon you, you may never return to Sherwood again."
"We'll see if you are still singing my praises if I have brought the Sheriff to your door."
"My uncle can manage him," said Marian.
"It is that generosity of heart that has me most frightened."
"Standing up for those in need is what knights do," Marian explained quietly. "Since the days of Arthur, there have been those who believe might does not equal right. They are willing to lay down their lives in the face of insurmountable odds to protect that belief. My uncle is one of those men. Do not take that away from him. Do not allow him to live and die a coward. Give him this one thing, even if it is the last thing you give him. Allow him to live in service to the best parts of humanity. Allow him to give his life for his oath."
Robin wet his cracked lips as the memories of his father came flashing back. "I held my father when he died," Robin spoke. "He was struck down by the Sheriff... his hand cut off... left to burn alive in our home. I was there."
He braced himself for the raging torrent of emotions that always came, but for some reason, this time, they did not.
Instead, it felt better.
It felt better to share with her.
As if his experience might be useful. Might have a reason. Might protect her from that pain.
"I did not realize," Marian murmured.
Robin stopped, turning to face Marian. "It is a sight seared into my mind, indelibly. No one should see such things. No one should carry around such memories." He reached out and stroked Marian's freckled cheek softly. "And it would break my heart if my actions were to bring such a sight to such gentle eyes as yours."
"Gentle eyes, soft words..." Marian pulled away. "Is this how you talk in the forest among your friends?"
"No," said Robin, smiling. He shook his head. "It is a hard life and I am grateful for moments of soft words after so much harshness."
"You must speak to me as a friend," insisted Marian, taking his hands in hers.
"Just a friend?" asked Robin.
She opened her mouth as if she wanted to say more, and then closed it again.
But the warm flush that spread across her pale skin...
The way she did not release his hand...
It all spoke the words her lips would not say.
"WHO GOES THERE?"
Robin broke away and looked towards the noise. Twelve men dressed in the Sheriff's livery had spotted them and were fighting their way through the thick bramble.
"STATE YOUR NAME!"
"Run," Robin said.
He grabbed Marian by the elbow and they dashed through the forest.
"HALT!" the guardsmen cried as they took off in fast pursuit.
The sound of pounding feet crashing through the undergrowth followed.
"I see red hair!" called a guard. "It must be that cousin!"
The noise was coming closer.
There was nowhere to hide.
His heart could not keep up.
Spots clouded his vision.
He stumbled.
Suddenly, Marian pushed him. The ground disappeared. He clutched at the air then hit the bottom of the crevasse. The wind left his lungs. He tried not to cry out. He panicked as the murk engulfed him, as the horrors of his recent days caused his mind to rebel.
But Marian stood above him in the light, like her face had floated before his mind's eye for so many days in the oubliette.
"Stay. Then get my uncle," she commanded him calmly, and then she turned away, her arms up in surrender.
And Robin realized what she had done.
She had sacrificed herself, knowing he did not have the strength to run.
"There was another one!" accused a voice distantly.
"Just me, my lord!" she shouted back.
Robin sat as quiet as a kitten in a nest when an eagle was flying by. He heard the angry voices, the heavy footsteps above. He fought to keep himself from blindly raging forth when he heard them capture Marian, when he heard her outraged and pained cries.
"I am worth a ransom if you take me to my uncle unharmed!" Marian informed them.
The movements above quieted.
"And who is your uncle?" asked a rough and gravelly voice.
It was a voice that Robin recognized, not from the prison, but from someplace, some time long ago.
"Sir Richard of Lea. His stronghold is due east. You'll reach the road and it is straight ahead," she replied.
Robin realized she was giving directions for his benefit, too.
"Why did you run?" asked one of the guards.
"A person such as myself in the forest alone? I did not know if you were guards or highwaymen," she stated. "Again, return me safely to my uncle, and a great reward shall be yours."
"There were two horses," said the first man again.
And that was when Robin realized who it was. It was the voice of Sir Guy of Gisborne, the knight who had once invited him to join the Sheriff's guard. He remembered the strength of Sir Guy's arrow, the accuracy of his shot. Sir Guy had traveled through Sherwood Forest to hunt Robin.
Robin's heart beat faster.
"I only know of my own," she replied. "I rode out and my steed bolted. Perhaps frightened by something or someone..." Her question carried an accusation.
"To poach the king's deer?" accused Sir Guy.
"My uncle is a titled gentleman," she exclaimed with outrage. "We are loyal subjects of our good
King Henry. You will find no animal or instruments on my person."
"Let's keep her for the Sheriff," grumbled the first voice. "He'll know what to do. We'll send a messenger. Just a day's delay."
Robin heard the party rustle above and then Sir Guy command, "Get back to the road! We'll wait there for the Sheriff. We'll keep this one until he arrives. Keep a sharp watch for the prisoner and the giant!"
Robin continued to wait, his hand on his chest as adrenaline coursed through his veins.
This was not what he wanted.
He wanted to be above, tearing Sir Guy and these men limb from limb. But he was worthless. Helpless. Weak. He did not even have a weapon. If he showed his face, he was as good as dead. He might be able to face an untrained soldier hand-to-hand. Even two soldiers he might be able to take in a fair fight.
But not a knight like Sir Guy.
The only hope for salvation would be to reach Marian's uncle before the Sheriff arrived. If they could secure her freedom, he and John could disappear into the forest before any more misfortune was brought to the good knight's doorstep.
When all had quieted and the forest had returned to its normal rhythms of sighing winds and birdcalls, Robin pulled himself out of the crevasse, using the roots of the fallen tree to climb up the muddy walls. He rested on the ground, panting, as the world swam before him. The night would be falling soon. Was it only this morning he was inside the Sheriff's cell? Was it only a few hours ago when he thought he would lose his best friend in the world? Was it only a few moments ago he stood with the woman who kept him alive with hope?
"Old gods," he whispered to the trees. "Protect me..."
The trunks of the trees groaned as they swayed.
Robin rose and forced his feet to quicken their pace.
There was no time.
Dusk began to fall and still he had not arrived.
Finally, he saw light through the trees and broke out into the clearing. Sir Richard's stronghold stood before him. The road that led through the forest was only 100-yards away. He had no idea he had been so close to an easy path.
But from almost the moment his feet struck the field, a rider rode out to meet him. The man reached down his hand and gripped Robin's arm, lifting him like a child onto the charger. Robin hated to think how starved and gaunt he must be to be moved with such ease.