Chapter One

Marian found the room in shambles already. A chair had fallen down, a goblet and broken bits of ceramic were scattered on the floor, and the tapestry lay in a bundle at the foot of the wall it was meant to cover. It must have had been an arduous five paces walk from the door to the bed for Guy of Gisborne.

Guy was half-lying over the bedcovers, his legs dangling out and one of his boots was missing. He had clearly tried to remove his jacket but only one of the clasps was undone revealing the black undershirt. His head was caught in an uncomfortable angle. Marian smiled. He was clearly very unconscious.

This was of course her doing. It had been the easiest thing to slip an herbal concoction in the wine jug. He had even smiled at her while she'd served it to him at dinner. Marian was surprised he made it all the way to Locksley as he had had three cups of the laced wine; she'd thought she'd find him sprawled in a roadside ditch. It was with a great reluctance that she hoisted his heavy body fully on the bed. He probably deserved worse than just a hangover and a stiff neck.

Marian took her time going through every nook and cranny of the room, every box and chest. Her findings included three more black undershirts and a tattered grey one (she was exceedingly glad for the servants' efficiency that explained the absence of dirty underwrappings). Marian even discovered his formal leather tunic soaking in grease underneath the stack of well-oiled and cared-for weaponry. The box containing Guy's fortune—considerably smaller since last time—she explored with more diligence but she still didn't find a trace of any kind of paper and certainly didn't find the important dispatch Marian knew Sir Guy of Gisborne had in his possession.

Annoyed, she hovered in the middle of the room, looking at the mess of it in the half-light of the candelabra. The situation appeared to require Guy's willing aid and it did not sit well with her. There was no way she could predict the quick-tempered man's reaction when faced with Marian the Nightwatchman holding a knife to his throat and asking him to hand over secret documents.

She stared accusingly at the long form that slumbered so oblivious to her endeavours. He made for a strange sight with one boot off, his brow relaxed, completely immobile and for once completely unobtrusive. An idea struck her and Marian went down on her knees looking for his discarded boot. Sometimes, she knew, people put things in the strangest places. But to her disappointment the boot was empty. She had just begun contemplating removing the other one when Guy stirred.

Marian hastily got on her feet. She watched him drag a hand up to his frowning brow, eyes still shut and then bracing his arms to slowly lift his body into a sitting position. He raised himself to his full height and opened his eyes. He saw her. Promptly he fell back on the mattress.

"Marian," he stretched the syllables of her name into a pained moan. "What the-- My head."

"I suggest you lie back down again. You won't be able to walk for a little while longer," Marian said with bravado she very much felt.

He squinted at her, perhaps realising what she was wearing before turning away from the light of the candles. "What have you done?" His voice though hoarse did not falter this time.

"I spiked your wine. I want something from you."

He tried to stand up again and failed. His eyes widened and he turned away gagging. Marian heard him belch. A self-satisfied smile tugged at her lips as he was getting his bearings. "You've drugged me?"

"Save your strength, that was a rather strong draught I gave you." Guy was helpless as a babe and Marian had never been in such a position of power over him before. A heady rush coursed through her, a sensation that had always been absent when she had dealt with Guy in the past. This weak-bodied, dizzy man for the first time in her life could not hurt her and it was invigorating.

"I told you the Nightwatchman business was over. What the devil are you doing?" he said gruffly.

"I saw Sir Jasper arrive yesterday morning. He brought orders—a letter. The sheriff was furious."

"It doesn't concern you."

"It does! I am not just another ignorant noblewoman and I care for what happens in my own country!" She saw Guy flinch at the volume of her voice and took a deep calming breath. "The sheriff gave you the letter. It had the royal seal on it." Vasey had in fact thrown it at him and then ordered for a passing and probably innocent guard to be whipped. "Vasey obviously doesn't want to follow the orders. I want that letter."

"You are a fool to think I'd give it to you. I would be a fool to give it to you," he spat. "Leave now and perhaps I'll forget about this incident."

Marian hadn't thought that words would be enough to convince him. She'd come prepared.

"You don't understand, do you Guy. I am done relying to your good will," she said and to prove her point she unsheathed her knife.

He turned white with anger. "You won't kill me."

"Try me."

Guy tried to stand for the third time. He was angry enough to do it, Marian thought with some trepidation. He put his two feet on the floor and pushed. He stood straight and the candlelight deepened the scowl on his face as he stared her down. Then suddenly his knees buckled and he crumbled back on the bed.

"The room is spinning," he mumbled.

The fight seemed to leave him entirely. He shifted warily until he lay properly, dropping his head on the pillow and covering his face.

He laughed. "If you're doing this to be with Hood you should think again."

"I'm going to take it to Robin if that's what you're asking. The rest is no business of yours," she said moving closer to the bed. The exhilaration had abandoned her as well. She put the knife back in its sheath as she didn't think she'd need it very soon.

"If he wants it, let him come get it himself. He shouldn't have you running his errands," he said managing some force in his voice.

"He doesn't know," she offered for no reason she could think of.

"Damnation Marian, you're working alone? At least he has a herd of peasants he can count on."

"I can work perfectly well by myself as I have done for the last six years. Where is the letter?"

He laughed again, a low rumble that Marian could feel under her skin. "Locksley knows."

"How do you mean?" she said in confusion.

"This is--was his house. He knows every hiding place there is." Marian for a moment considered the fact that the drug had addled his brains.

"You want me to tell Robin to come here and look for the letter himself, where you'll have obviously set up a trap for him. I'm not stupid Guy."

"If you weren't you wouldn't be sitting on my bed right now with twenty men standing guard all around us."

She had stopped thinking he would ever call them by now. "I could still kill you before they came within fifty paces of me," she spoke quietly, eyes locked on his face waiting for his reaction. His eyes glinted icy blue on his sombre countenance, he didn't show fear or anger. Marian knew that he knew she didn't mean it. She looked away first, at the square of grey sky just beginning to dawn, angry at herself. It wasn't fair, not fair at all.

"Robin of Locksley is a clever man. I bet he could slip away from any trap I might have set up for him," he persisted.

"You're absurd," she scoffed. "The letter. Tell me where it is or I swear I will tie you down and tear the entire room apart while you watch."

"Enough!" he yelled. "That letter concerns Robin and you are not to have anything to do with it."

Marian saw he was serious. She eyed the red brocade drapes hanging from the bedposts thinking it would make good strong rope. She took out her knife again and smiled at Guy's alarmed look.

"For God's sake, Marian! I am a being honest. It is only a royal pardon for Hood. He can live without it for some time, and you have to leave before you're found."

"A royal pardon!" She was thrilled. This was the most important news she had heard the entire year. It had been a wrong move from Guy to tell her this and she saw he realised it.

"Fuck!" he yelled when she stood and ripped the nearest drape off its hinges. Marian began slashing it into strips. "It's dawn already you stubborn woman, you will be heard. Someone's bound to listen to the racket."

"You are worried for my sake. I am touched," she replied, eyes at the task in hand.

"Run."

"What?"

"Marian, run."

Marian resumed her work. There was no time to waste; the after-effects of the draught would only last so long.

"GUARDS!"