by N B Dixon
The next few minutes were a blur. Robin lost track of time. Everything was attack, defend, dodge. By the time he came to his senses, all three soldiers lay groaning, one bleeding profusely from a stab wound to the thigh. The old man and his wife had got to their feet and were gazing, awestruck, at Robin.
Robin stood, breathing heavily as the excitement gradually faded. His rage had spent itself, leaving behind an overwhelming weariness.
“They will trouble you no more today,” he said. “Go back inside your house and stay there.”
***
Marian paced her bed chamber, the nightgown the nuns had given her billowing about her legs. The open window shutters rattled in the growing wind. She should really think about closing them. It was midwinter, after all, and the room was chilly in spite of the fire. It had been foolish to open them in the first place, but she hadn’t been able to prevent herself.
She had dismissed Ursula early, wanting more than anything to be alone, but that had proved to be a mistake. Unable to sleep, she had tried whiling away some time by the fire. When this also proved ineffective, she had resorted to movement in an effort to dispel her rising tension.
Today was the day. She had laid her plan with care. Ursula had learned from her brother that he and Robin would be going to Nottingham in order to hand out money and food to some of the neediest families. Marian wanted Robin detached from Will, and David wanted this every bit as much as she did. David had been prepared to wait, hoping that Will would eventually come round, but his patience had been wearing thin, and it had been easy enough for Ursula to convince him not to wait any longer. All Marian had to hope was that David had made sure Robin was likely to find them. Once Robin saw that Will was interested in someone else, surely he would forget him, and his interest would settle elsewhere.
A sound at the window made her spin around. A silhouette was framed there. With lithe grace, the figure climbed into the chamber, dropping to the floor without a noise.
“It’s cold,” Robin remarked. He pulled the shutters closed. “You don’t seem surprised to see me.”
His clothing was torn and he had a black eye. He had been drinking, too—Marian recognised the signs. It had worked. He’d come. She recovered her power of speech as exultation filled her.
“You’re always welcome. Though, if you’d wanted to see me, you could have asked me to come down.”
“I find I’m not in the mood for dealing with nuns tonight. I don’t think they would approve of my nocturnal visit.” He advanced into the firelight. There was an odd glitter in his eyes. Marian was well aware that she stood before him, minimally clothed. Was it possible that he knew the part she had played in bringing David and Will together?
“How did you know which window was mine?”
“Your maid told me.”
“You’re drunk.”
“Not nearly enough, I fear.”
“And you’re hurt!” She went to him and, reaching up, touched a finger to his bruised face. She could feel the warmth coming off his body, see the rapid rise and fall of his chest. Need clawed inside her, spreading heat to her stomach, but she was still unsure of his mood. He hadn’t moved. His eyes bored into hers, and she thought she discerned many emotions—anger, need, sadness.
“Why the visit? You’ve never sought me out before.” She cursed herself inwardly. Was she trying to send him away? He was here, which had to mean David had succeeded. Why else would he be drunk? Perhaps there had been a fight. That would explain the black eye.
“Anyone would think you weren’t pleased to see me.” There was a hint of uncertainty in his eyes.
Marian realised that he was unsure of his welcome. He seemed vulnerable. She was used to him being in command, confident and aloof. He was watching her, waiting for her reaction. He would leave if she asked him to.
She was sorry for him, but mixed in with the pity was triumph. He was hers. She took a step closer, giving him her warmest smile.
“I’m always pleased to see you. So, now you are here, what do you want?”
For answer, he yanked her to him. There was nothing tender in the gesture, but she didn’t care. It wasn’t tenderness she wanted.
***
As he crushed Marian’s slender form to him, Robin willed himself to relax, to enjoy the feel of her body pressed to his. He wasn’t even sure why he had come, except that the idea of returning to camp was intolerable and the thought of being alone was equally unbearable.
Marian’s hair tumbled loose down her back, gleaming in the firelight. He breathed in its scent. He could feel the rapid thud of her heart beneath his hands. She tipped up her head, and he leaned down. Their lips met. Her arms wound around his neck, her fingers tangling in his hair. His hands slid down her back to cup her buttocks, pressing her even closer. Somewhere in the back of his mind, a warning voice screamed, telling him this was wrong, but he ignored it. Will was beyond his reach forever. Marian was attractive. She desired him. Nothing else mattered.
He parted Marian’s lips, exploring her mouth with his tongue. She responded, kissing him back with a fervour that took him by surprise. She pressed herself even closer, rocking her body against his with unmistakable need, while sounds came from her throat, begging him to take more. Her tongue danced with his as she slid her hands up under the hem of his tunic. His fingers found the lacing of her shift, and yanked it free. The flimsy fabric slid from her shoulders to pool at her feet. With movements no less frantic, she yanked at his tunic with one hand while the other slid between his legs, stroking, just as David had…no! He tugged the tunic over his head and flung it aside.
He moved his mouth lower, trailing kisses down her neck. She threw back her head, allowing him access.
“I want you,” she gasped. “I have almost since we first met.” She pressed her breasts to his chest. He backed to the bed, taking her with him. Lifting her, he laid her down and, pausing only to remove the rest of his clothing, climbed up beside her. Kneeling over her, elbows planted on either side of her body, he gazed at her. Her skin was pale as milk, apart from a becoming flush in her cheeks. She was perfect, he told himself. Any man would desire her.
He lowered his head, tasting first one breast, then the other. He teased her nipples with his tongue, feeling them harden in response. She moaned, lifting her hips, arching towards him.
“Please!”
With the first thrust, he met resistance. Marian gasped, and he realised the truth. It brought a moment of clarity and he pulled back.
“Marian?”
“Don’t stop.”
The second thrust was easier. Marian claimed his mouth once more, her hips moving in rhythm with his.
Robin forced himself to block out all thought, all emotion. Nothing mattered but the physical, the only way he could think of to drown the pain.
Marian arched beneath him, raking her fingernails across his back. The pain was welcome. It distracted him. He plunged faster, desperate to drive out the image that kept stealing into his mind—Will and David in a bed together, of Will writhing beneath David…
No! The word was a silent scream inside him as Marian cried out. He felt the tremors take her as her release came. Just like that, it was over.
He lay there, conscious of a hollow ache deep inside him. Will’s face rose in his mind as if to mock him. He had taken Marian’s maidenhood from her. It didn’t matter that she had been willing. She’d been innocent. Could this day get any worse?
Marian nestled against him; her face fitted perfectly in the hollow between his neck and shoulder. Though he desired nothing more than to leave, he knew he couldn’t. That would make him the worst sort of knave.
Marian’s fingers trailed over his back, mapping the scars. “How did you get these?” Her voice was drowsy and contented.
“I got on the wrong side of King Richard.”
“Was that while you were on Crusade?”
Robin said nothing. She seemed to take his silence as assent.
“Wh
at was it like?”
“It was hell on earth,” Robin said bluntly.
“So why did you go?”
“Richard has a way of making a man believe in a cause. By the time you realise the truth, it’s too late. All you can do is survive.”
She yawned. Robin supposed it was getting late. He may as well compound this day of idiocy by staying the rest of the night. He pulled her close. “Get some sleep.”
“You won’t leave?”
She was like a small child seeking reassurance. Fresh guilt stabbed at Robin.
“I won’t leave. I promise.”
Chapter 20
Will moved through the dense undergrowth, careful to remain downwind of the young stag. He knew David was somewhere close, also tracking the animal.
He was glad for the excuse to be away from the others. The atmosphere in camp was uneasy. All of them were full of questions. Where was Robin? When was he coming back? John was uncharacteristically silent, and David was his usual sullen self. Finally, Will couldn’t stand it anymore. Meat was getting low, and he immediately volunteered to hunt up something. He needed to be alone, to think. Somewhat to his surprise, David had decided to accompany him. He was the last person Will wanted to see.
The image of Robin’s face kept flashing across Will’s mind. Even though a rational part of him argued that he had not been doing anything wrong, his heart would not listen. It would have been easier if Robin had shown some sign of emotion. If he’d shouted or punched Will, he would have been able to respond with anger, but the blankness of his face had hit Will far worse than any physical blow.
The stag had paused to rub its antlers against the trunk of an oak. Will nocked an arrow to his bow and drew back on the string, ready to let fly. Another arrow flew from nowhere, burying itself in the trunk just above the stag’s head. The stag turned and in a single bound, vanished.
Will cursed. He heard David do the same as he stepped out of cover.
“What kind of shot do you call that?” Will hissed. “We’ll never catch him now.”
He knew he was being unfair. He was no great archer himself, but he needed to take his frustration out on someone.
“At least I fired,” David flung back. “If we’d waited on you, the whole camp would be starving. What were you waiting for, the stag to drop dead at your feet?”
It was most unlike David to snap at anyone. He took rebukes in silence, head bent like a beaten cur. Perhaps the drink was still waxing strong in him.
Will shoved the arrow back into his quiver. Guilt and frustration mounted inside him. “Why did you come with me?”
“Because you’re a lousy shot. Everyone knows it.”
“Watch who you’re calling lousy. It was your arrow that missed, not mine.”
They glared at each other. “Why are you pining over him?” David burst out. “So he saw as together. Why do you care?”
Will stabbed his fingers through his hair. He didn’t feel like getting into this right now. “We’d better keep moving, or do you want to be here after dark?” He made to brush past David, but David planted himself in his way.
“Is this how it’s going to be? You’re going to spend the rest of your life panting after a man you can’t have? What is your fascination with him, anyway? The man has about as much feeling as a block of wood. If you think he’ll warm your bed, think again.”
“You know nothing about him.” There was a definite warning in Will’s tone, but David either did not hear or chose to ignore it. All traces of the servile monk were gone. If this was David drunk, then Will definitely preferred him sober.
“You think I don’t see you following him around camp? You’re wasting your time. The man is not interested. Why not forget him and be with someone who is?”
“Like you?”
David looked wretched. “I want you.” It was a cry from the heart.
For a second, Will was tempted, but looking at this lonely, bitter man, he knew he couldn’t. It had been the alcohol and his own loneliness acting behind the tavern, nothing more.
“I’m sorry,” he said, and he meant it.
David cast him one bitter, betrayed look, then blundered away into the trees.
Will stood motionless for several minutes as the silence of Sherwood closed in around him. David was right about one thing. Was he going to spend the rest of his life longing for something beyond his reach? Would he never be able to be happy with another man because he would always wonder what might have been?
With a resigned sigh, Will shouldered his bow once more and set off in search of food.
***
“Where is he?” John grumbled. The evening meal was over and David had not returned. There was no sign of Robin, either, and Will had eaten without tasting a mouthful.
“Robin will be back soon enough, John,” Daphne said.
“I meant that idiot, David. He went hunting with Will, but only Will returned. So where is the man? God’s teeth. I suppose we’ll have to scour Sherwood for him.”
“David will come back when he’s ready,” Alan said. He was looking at Will as he spoke. Alan, at least, had noticed there was something wrong between them. Will tried to conceal his own worry. He had expected David to have returned by now—Robin, too, for that matter. Will realised he was going to have to tell them something.
“David needs some time by himself.”
“Honestly, it’s like being surrounded by boys instead of men,” Jane put in.
“Shouldn’t we look for them?” Lara said. “They could be hurt or lost or caught.”
“If they are, there’s nothing we can do about it till morning,” John said.
“Our Robin is more than capable of looking after himself,” Tuck reminded them.
But what about David? an unbidden voice in Will’s head whispered. He’d give the man a little longer, then go looking for him.
Knowing he wouldn’t sleep, he offered to take sentry duty. It should have been Much’s turn, but there would be no rest for him until both Robin and David were back at camp. He dreaded to think what would happen when the three of them came face-to-face again.
“You want to tell me what happened?” Alan had climbed up to join Will where he sat in an oak tree. The position commanded a good view of the surrounding forest. If anyone put in an appearance, he would see them. “David wants you, doesn’t he? But you still have feelings for Robin.”
“I think I preferred you as the dreamy minstrel who never noticed anything,” Will grumbled.
Alan grinned. “I was never blind, Will. It was obvious how you felt about each other even when you were lads.” His face grew sober. “You and Robin have a history. That counts for something. So, David is off sulking, I suppose?”
“He said I was a fool for lusting after Robin. I reckon he’s right.”
Alan frowned. “It’s a bit odd that David should make his move after all these months. He struck me as a timid sort of fellow, not one to take the bull by the horns, so to speak. A bit of a coincidence that he chose a time when he knew Robin would be likely to find you.”
Will gaped at Alan. Such an idea had never occurred to him. “You’re saying he planned this on purpose?”
Alan shrugged. “The man is drawn to you. I’d say our David’s jealous.”
Will’s face hardened. He had been wrestling with his guilt all evening. He should not have encouraged David when he felt nothing for him. But if David had been deliberately trying to come between him and Robin, that put things in a different perspective.
Alan began his descent to the ground. “No use fretting anymore tonight. Let’s wait and see what the morning brings.” At the foot of the tree, he paused. “You know, if lads were my type, I’d choose Robin. He may be giving you the cold shoulder, but my da always said good things were worth waiting for.”
***
David banged on the gates of Nottingham Castle with his staff. Curfew had fallen and the town was quiet, but there was always a way in if you bribed the
right guard. David had learned that much from his time with the outlaws.
From atop the watchtowers, sentries levelled crossbows at him.
“Who goes there?”
“I have important business to discuss with the sheriff.”
“The sheriff is not receiving any visitors. Come back in the morning.”
“This is urgent.” David hesitated. “It concerns the outlaw, Robin Hood.”
He waited as the sentries exchanged a few hurried sentences. Then a voice called down to him, “Very well. You will remain where you are. Someone will be along presently.”
David waited, pulling his threadbare cloak more closely about him in an effort to keep out the winter chill. It seemed to take an eternity, but finally, with a great creaking and groaning, the heavy portcullis was raised and the gates opened. A soldier beckoned David through.
“I am to take you to my captain. Come this way.” As a soldier led David through the outer bailey, the gates clanged shut behind them and the portcullis began its descent. David repressed the feeling that he had shut himself into a prison. He knew he would have to tread carefully if he ever hoped to leave Nottingham Castle alive. He glanced once more up at the watchtowers. He could see the endless figures of the sentries marching back and forth, back and forth. He even fancied he could hear the rhythmic sound of their boots, or perhaps that was the thudding of his heart.
His head throbbed with every step. The effects of the ale were wearing off. He was sobering rapidly.
Through the outer bailey they went, through the constable’s hall, and finally into the great hall itself. This vast chamber was empty, save for one man. He sat in the chair on the dais that was normally reserved for the sheriff, but he rose as David and his escort entered.