Adisiya
He vexes me so, my master does. As stubborn as an ox in winter. Currently, I'm resorting to pleading but Robin is choosing to be as deaf as a bale of hay. He is determined to go, it seems, and I know of no cure for that affliction.
I tell him to stay.
I remind him of his responsibilities.
I declare that I will not be going with him.
I repeat my arguments multiple times, knowing the effect is lost. And now I have actually run out of words. Not that he was listening anyway. So I try the unnatural state of silence.
Be sure, it kills me.
Marian has joined me here, prepared to beg as well. I can see in her face, her stance, that Robin's apparent resolve is as much a betrayal as the last time he left. Only there'll be no pardon if he doesn't turn back.
Not from either of us.
And while Marian's tears do not move him, they move me. I wish to shoulder her burden, but know it belongs to her alone. As he once did. She fights for composure and I admire her yet again. Stronger than us all, I've concluded. But this will break her. Does Robin not understand that?
There is no acknowledgement from my master as he moves further from us. Whatever hope of change I had been clinging to is slowly slipping through my shaking grasp. My fingers cannot hold him here. And if Marian's cannot…it is truly over.
He is leaving her again; a promise broken. I fear he would argue it had never been voiced, and yet I know my master well. Since our return from the Holy Land, his heart had spoken it many times as loud as a shout. And Marian had heard. Had responded. Had forgiven him. Such things cannot be reversed. Should not be undone. Yet, Robin is leaving her. And me. And we cannot stop him.
And neither can Djaq. She looks to us with such heartbreaking eyes. She mourns her own failure to convince him, using her hands and her knowledge. She tells us it is up to him now. Don't we all know better than to leave something up to him?
Surrounded by the still of early night and half a dozen onlookers, I clutch Robin's arm firmly and I tell him of his betrayal. I demand he turn from that fabled light and follow me back to the forest. I tell him Marian is waiting. I command, as one in authority would a disobedient army, and my soldier…listens?
A breath. A breath, unsteady and terribly shallow. But a sign of life no less. Djaq is smiling and I think that should bring us confidence. It seems his departure will be delayed and I forgive him for the scare. And I learn something this day… Stubborn indeed is my master, that even death cannot keep him.
--Title is translated 'leave behind' in Cherokee.