No, no, no...not again.

Overcome by nausea, Marian leaned over a foul smelling bucket already half full and vomited.

That's better.

Weakened, her face was beaded in a cold sweat, but she felt better. Chained at her wrists and ankles to an iron ring on the ship's floor, she leaned her back against the wall and let her mind race.

The bucket had been a "gift" from Guy, even if he never thought of ordering its foul contents dumped into the sea. On one of his first visits down the ladder to the ship's hull where she was being held prisoner, he'd been alarmed to find her lovely green dress drenched in her own vomit.

"Seasick," he'd judged incorrectly, having no idea she was secretly carrying Robin's child and suffering severe bouts of morning sickness. "I'll send someone to clean you up."

"Who?" she accused, angrily. "One of the sailors who comes down here regularly to leer at me? I'm the only woman on board this ship."

"Who leers at you? I will kill them!"

"Yes, Guy, since you defend me so well, allowing me to be chained in the hull, with the ship's cargo and the rats."

"Marian, I do not approve of the way the sheriff is treating you."

"Yet you allow it. I'm sure you'll shed a tear, too, when he finally decides to execute me."

That thought seemed too horrible for Gisbourne to bear. Surprising Marian, he dropped to his knees beside her and began gently wiping her vomit-crusted bodice with his own handkerchief.

"I won't let him kill you," he tenderly promised her. "I didn't before, when you were going to hang for being the Nightwatchman. I devised a plan to save you then, and I will again, Marian. Have I not told you that I...I love you?"

Marian knew that it had really been Allan who had come up with the plan to wear her Nightwatchman disguise and fool the sheriff. She could almost hear him selling "Giz" on the idea.

Allan! What had become of him? Had he somehow managed to save Robin, as she fervently hoped and prayed? Or had she sent him into a trap, where he'd met his death?

"You say you love me," she said to Guy, accusingly, "so why did you tell the sheriff I was the Nightwatchman? It was unnecessary. You saved me one day, only to expose me the next."

"I had to tell him! He is my pathway to power and position. You're just a woman and cannot understand. But I swear to you, Marian, I will protect you."

Marian had no other answer than to roll her eyes.

Guy had taken credit for her rescue to "win" her, going so far as to risk the sheriff's anger by claiming, "I gave the order." She had been grateful to him then for saving her life, forgiving him for all of his crimes, believing once again that there was good in him and that she could turn him from evil.

Until now.

Now, Guy was on a journey to kill the King. And even more terrible in Marian's eyes, he was rejoicing in the likely probability of Robin's death. Those were two crimes that she would never forgive.

The thought of Robin dead drained Marian of all hope, all happiness, all energy. Yet she couldn't give up fighting, not while Robin's child lived and grew within her.

"I will protect you," she thought lovingly to their unborn baby. "Whatever it takes, I will keep you safe. You will have a good, happy life."

Looking Gisbourne squarely in the face, she tried to look grateful while telling him, "Thank you."

Her beauty, as well as her proximity, proved too much for Guy. Despite the wretched state of her gown, he felt his body begin to burn, as all of his yearnings gathered in one place, straining against the leather of his trousers. His black gloved hands, wiping at her bodice, grew bold and caressing.

"Guy, no!"

Thankfully, he stopped.

"I'm sorry," he said awkwardly, standing up. "That was inappropriate. But, perhaps, when all this is over and my position is secure, you will agree to become my wife."

"Do not kill the king," Marian urged him.

"I'll send down some food," he said, ignoring her demand. "And a...a bucket in case you're sick again."

"Do not kill him, Guy," she repeated, even as Gisbourne climbed the ladder away from her to escape her words.

Fresh sea air and sunlight streamed into the hull when Gisbourne lifted the opening, but its loveliness was all too brief, for he slammed the trap door shut again, leaving her alone in the stuffiness and the dark.

Well, not quite alone. Already, Marian could hear the rats scratching as they scurried about, searching for food.

They did not distress her, not nearly so much as the great balding black-clad rat above, the mastermind of the plots that had killed her beloved, and now meant to kill the king.

The sheriff! He was the one who needed to die. She had failed in her attempt to kill him using Allan's sword, and now, she was chained and weaponless.

But not helpless. Somehow, she would convince Guy to do the deed for her.

She closed her eyes, shuddering at the fresh memory of his hot hands groping her body. As if to push him away, she laid her own hands on her belly, then caught her breath, feeling its gentle swell.

"You're growing," she whispered, awestruck.

The beauty of the moment soon turned to dread, when she realized what a short span of time she had, before Guy would guess the truth.

And suddenly, she knew exactly what she needed to do.

Promise Guy her hand, to convince him to kill the sheriff. Marry him to save the king, save England, save herself and Robin's child. She would deceive Guy into believing the baby was his, and then, Robin's son, for she somehow knew in her heart that the child was a boy, would one day inherit what was rightfully his...Locksley.

"I'm sorry," she told the man she would forever love, as tears spilled from her eyes. "It's not what I want to do, but what I have to."