Much walked along the lane enjoying the feeling of anonymity and nostalgia that came from wearing his old cloak. So what if it was frayed and the colour was slowly disappearing, it reminded him of the good times. When the gang was all alive and fighting. Much passed the butcher's shop where him and Robin had confronted the man selling bad meat. Tears sprung to his eyes as he remembered his dear, departed master. Robin had died several years earlier. He died for the gang, for Marian, for his king, for his country. For everyone, just like he had wanted to. He hadn't gone down without a fight and he had taken Gisbourne with him. Robin got his revenge and died for it.
Much furiously rubbed away the tears. There was no reason to cry, not anymore. The war was over. King Richard was back, the Sheriff and Prince John were gone and he had gotten Bonchurch. But that didn't bring back Robin or any of the gang. Once everything was right again they had spilt up and gone their separate ways. Will and Djaq to the Holy Land, Allan to Rochdale and Little John to Alice and his son John. He heard from them occasionally but he missed the old days. He missed Will's ability to turn a single piece of wood into something spectacular. He missed Djaq's remedies and fire. He missed Little John's leadership. He even missed Allan's gambling. But most of all Much simply missed them. Every minute of every day and it was painful to say the least. He actually missed living in Sherwood Forest and cooking for everyone and making arrows and fighting amongst themselves as they so often had. He missed the Sheriff and his scheming. He missed Gisbourne's cockiness and repeated failures. He missed fighting the Sheriff's hopeless guards. He missed everything.
Much's feet took him to the Trip Inn where Allan had met Gisbourne all those times to betray them. Much found himself going through the door and sitting down at a table far away from everyone. A barmaid brought over a drink and, when he didn't pay her straight away, kept a tab. After Robin had joined Marian, Little John had taken over, as it were. There was no hesitation on his part and the gang didn't mind. They had still done the same things, they had just been more careful and hadn't gotten caught as often. Which none of them had minded, of course. But sitting there in the Trip Inn, Much began missing getting caught every week. He missed it because it had felt right. Getting caught only to escape the Sheriff's clutches once again. Except for Roy, of course. But that was different, he had died for his mother and the gang.
Much drank deeply and thought about what the others might be doing. They were all probably having the times of their lives. And he was stuck in some dingy little inn drinking something he didn't even like and he was an Earl. None of them had come to visit him at Bonchurch and they probably never would. He'd never see Will and Djaq again because they lived so far away. He'd never see Little John again because he had a son. He'd never see Allan again because, let's face it, they hadn't been the best of friends. He'd only see them again when they were all dead and in Heaven. Though Djaq would be in a different Heaven to them. But maybe they had a neutral Heaven for outlaws? That'd be a good Heaven, thought Much. He'd like to go there.
Much couldn't believe how long it had been since he had last seen any of the gang. The last one he saw was Allan and that was three years ago. He hadn't seen John for four and half years and the last time he saw Will and Djaq had been when they left for the Holy Land when King Richard got back almost six years ago. The thought made Much so depressed that he finished off two more pints of the strongest drink they had in the place.
Another barmaid came over to his table and poked his arm. Much shrugged her off but she poked him again. He looked up from the table and saw a woman standing in front of him. A woman that he had been looking for since King Richard had come back to England, until he got the news that had made him stop looking. Eve. She was standing right there in front of him, smiling, and all he could do was stare. He was so dumbfounded that he didn't say anything when she took his hand and pulled him into the bright sunshine. The sunlight burnt his eyes after the dark Inn but he kept following Eve and allowing her to pull him along.
Much didn't say anything when they left Nottingham. He didn't say anything when they went into the Forest and along familiar paths. Much didn't say anything because he knew he was dreaming. Eve couldn't be holding his hand and leading him somewhere. It was impossible. The only plausible explanation was that he was dreaming. Eve looked back and smiled at him in a way that was oddly comforting and yet at the same time disconcerting. It was the kind of smile that said 'I know something that you don't'.
As they traveled further into he Forest, Much thought he could hear laughter coming from somewhere close and yet far off. But he didn't have the nerve to ask Eve what it was or where they were going. He just followed her, deeper and deeper into the Forest and familiar territory. Much felt as though he had been there once before lone ago with some very old friends. He just couldn't remember when or with whom. As the laughter grew louder Much worked up the nerve to speak.
"Eve? Where are we going?" Eve stopped walking and turned around to look at him. The look she gave him! It was as though she was asking him if he was really that dumb. She shook her head and kept walking. But now she wasn't holding his hand. And he wasn't following her anymore. It was like he knew exactly where to go.
The laughter had stopped and it seemed like the whole Forest was waiting, waiting for him. Why, he didn't know. Just like he didn't know how Eve was there. He had been told (by her mother!) that she was dead. Eve was dead. Starvation or something. There were no ifs or buts about it. Eve was dead and she wasn't… Wait. Maybe…
Much arrived at his destination and looked about himself. He knew this place. He remembered this place from long ago. Happy memories flooded his old mind but they were faded and he couldn't recognise them anymore. Much's hands and feet moved him towards the hidden lever in the rock wall and pulled it down. Much stared in wonder as the cover lifted off the old camp which Much thought he knew. For some reason not understood by him, Much felt immense sorrow at seeing the camp. The timber was rotted, decaying material hung from several places, empty bowls littered the floor and what had once been the kitchen. Chests lay open on the floor with nothing inside them now but dust and insects. The hearth, around which they had eaten, planned, and generally talked, was a charred piece of ground with only a few rocks around it now. The camp was deserted, desolate, and pitiful. What had once been a masterpiece of engineering was now just another part of the Forest and a cause for a great pain in Much.
Much's eyes adjusted to the gloom of the camp and made out several dark figures amongst the debris and shadows. One of the shapes moved forward into the sunlight and Much's tears over flowed. It was his master, his friend, his confidant, and his brother. Robin Hood. And there was Marian. Will, Djaq, Allan, Little John, Roy, Carter, Harold. The whole gang was there, along with some that hadn't been. Robin stepped forward away from the others and smiled at Much with so much affection that the tears already running down Much's face turned into a waterfall. Robin held his hand out to Much.
"What do you say to one last adventure that goes on for eternity?" whispered Robin. Much's memories flashed through his mind and he remembered everything properly. As he looked around at his smiling friends he knew that this was where he wanted to be.
Much reached out and took Robin's hand and, together, they all walked into the brilliant light.
Several weeks later, Much's body will be found in Sherwood Forest. Much will have a smile on his face and he will look at peace. His death will be deemed as natural, old age. The tavern's serving girls will tell people how old Earl Much of Bonchurch had sat in the tavern drinking like he was young again. They will tell how he spoke of things that had happened more than twenty years ago. They will tell people how Much spoke of those who had died many years before including the legendary Robin Hood and his Lady Marian, the giant Little John, the famous carpenter Will Scarlett, the Saracen woman Djaq, and the lucky gambler Allan A'Dale.