Chapter Three
Suspicion
It took a while for all the necessary greetings, congratulations, welcome-homes and we-missed-yous to be imparted, but they finally settled back into their customary positions around the camp as if Will and Djaq had never been away, Much steadfastly preparing his squirrels.
"This is great," he said. "The whole gang back together again."
"The whole gang plus two," said Will. Everyone looked at Djaq with expressions of either worry or disbelief.
"Not me!" she exclaimed indignantly. "Honestly! Men! You all have one-track minds!"
"So who…" began Much.
Will produced a covered box from the depths of his travelling bag.
"Tada," he said, pulling away the cover to reveal two plump grey pigeons. "Meet Asha and Rana."
"There are two, so we have two messages," explained Djaq quickly. "Obviously a pigeon can only make one journey to its mate and it won't fly back. We want to keep one for sending and one for receiving, but if it's an emergency, I daresay I could get Bassam to send us another over on the next boat."
For the next few hours, no one would have known that anything had ever happened to bring grief to the outlaws as they ate and drank just like old times. But as the fire burnt away to embers, Robin remembered his new calling.
"Djaq…Will…" he began once all the others had fallen asleep. "Gisborne is still in the Holy Land. Did you see him whilst you were out there?"
Unnoticed by Robin, Djaq shot Will a worried look.
"No," he said steadily. "We didn't." Djaq shook her head in agreement.
"How do you know he's still out there?" she asked.
"The Sheriff."
Robin turned to the fire, his mind tumbling through the events of the day, trying to piece together something from all the shards of ideas, theories and plots. Suddenly, through it all came a searing stab of guilt that he had forgotten Marian.
You can't just allow your life to stop, he told himself angrily, looking round at his gang. None of them had. Besides, Marian had died saving the King. If Robin didn't continue to work towards his protection then she would have died in vain.
And, despite what he'd said to Allan earlier, a part of him was screaming silently for revenge. If he closed his eyes, he could still see the sword in her stomach and then shift the scene until it was his hand guiding the blade and the blood spilled over black leather, not white linen. It wasn't pleasure that he felt with that thought, merely justice, a sense that things had come full circle.
"Robin, have you been listening?" came Djaq's irritated voice, shattering the reverie. "Are you sure that he hasn't fallen on his sword? After all, he did always claim to love her and it's not unheard of."
"Sorry…what?"
Djaq rolled her eyes.
"It's legend that in the Far East, beyond the Holy Land, if a soldier is shamed, he falls on his own sword to prevent living with that shame. Do you think Gisborne could have done that?"
"Wh-wh-wh-what?" yawned Much, who had been snoring quietly. "You'd have to be pretty stupid to fall on your own sword. It'd kill you."
"That's the point, Much," groaned Will.
"No," said Robin, returning to the earlier question. "He doesn't have the courage. No, the Sheriff's behind this, I'm certain of it."
"Robin," said Djaq, "I think you need to sleep. Think about it more when you've rested." She sighed and closed her eyes, as she knew where Robin's train of thought was heading, and she hadn't anticipated returning to her homeland so soon after settling back into England. She didn't regret her decision to do what she had done, but she hadn't anticipated a consequence like this. She just prayed that Robin would see sense and drop the plan that was coming a little to close to the truth for comfort…
XXX
For a few weeks, Djaq thought that her praying might have paid off. Robin didn't mention Gisborne or the king once, throwing himself into his task fully. It was only in the evenings that he wasn't the Robin they'd known before. When he wasn't contemplating and subdued, he was skittering off to the villages, getting ideas, observations, all the while making his own plans and preparations. But, finally, the day she had been dreading arrived.
"There's a ship leaving for Acre in two days," he said.
"I know where this is going," said Allan. "We're off back out there to find Gisborne and stop the Sheriff's evil assassination plans. Look, Robin, I'm not being funny or anything, but it's been months now. If it was going to happen, it would have happened by now."
"Not necessarily," said Robin steadfastly. "He might be biding his time. Lulling the King into a false sense of security."
"Robin, he's in the middle of a war!" exclaimed Djaq. "He's never going to be in a false sense of security!"
"He might."
"Robin, we can't leave the villagers again," said John indignantly. "It was bad enough last time, but now we're leaving them alone with the Sheriff. Please Robin, see sense!" he implored.
"I know we'll be leaving the villagers. But that's what I've been doing for the past two months – helping the villagers to fend for themselves. They'll be able to cope for the time we're away."
John was far from convinced.
"If you don't want to come, you don't have to," said Robin. "You can all stay if you want. I'll go alone."
"You're a brave man Robin, but that's just stupid." Allan sighed, as if he was signing his life away with his words. "I'm coming. Even if it does mean another blasted boat."
"You can decide amongst yourselves," said Robin. "Djaq, send a message to Bassam…"
XXX
It was about midnight, and Marian couldn't sleep. She lay watching the voiles fluttering in the cool night breeze, Guy's warm form entwined around her.
"Are you awake?" she whispered over her shoulder.
"Just," he yawned to her hair. "What's the matter?"
"Nothing. I can't sleep, that's all."
"Hmm." He turned over and she felt a rush of cold air fill the void where his body had been. "I think the locals are finally getting used to us."
Marian smiled. They had certainly attracted some strange looks on becoming a permanent fixture in Acre, the odd English couple. Indeed, people had been wary, almost hostile at first, rightly so considering the events of past years. But, as time had gone on and they had learnt to blend in better, learnt the customs, traditions and language enough to get by, so they felt more accepted. Their acquaintance with Bassam had also helped greatly, securing them this modest house and finding Guy some work at the armoury. They'd said from the very beginning, making plans whilst Marian was recuperating, that they were going to be independent. In the time that they had stayed with Bassam they were grateful for all that he did for them, but they didn't want to be reliant on him forever. What was the point in engineering their freedom so delicately only to be tied once again?
The sound of knocking drifted through the house.
"Is that the door?" asked Guy sleepily. "Who comes calling at this hour?
"I don't think so. You're imaging things."
But then it came again, this time accompanied by an urgent whisper: Guy! Marian! Open up!
"Are you going?" asked Marian. Guy groaned.
"Do I have to?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
"Because you're the man of the house. I'd get going, it sounds like an emergency."
Bassam had begun to speak almost before Guy had opened the door.
"I've had a message from Djaq," he said. Guy jerked fully awake, something inside him freezing in an instant. It obviously couldn't be good news, and he had the terrible feeling that their liberty and happiness of past months was to be short-lived.
"Come in," he said wearily, and sprinted back upstairs to break the news to Marian.
"Who is it?" she hissed, meeting him halfway along the corridor, swathed in the bed sheets.
"Bassam. He's heard from Djaq. You'd better get dressed."
He returned to the living room, where Bassam was still standing, nervous and uneasy.
"What's the message?" asked Guy. Bassam handed over the slip of rough paper without a word.
B, it read. We're all coming back. R determined to find G. Is certain G and V still plot to kill K. Warn G and M. Remember you know nothing. M is dead. G has disappeared. Love S and W.
"What are we going to do?" asked Marian, who had entered unannounced and read the letter over Guy's shoulder.
"I don't know."
"I must go now," said Bassam. "I needed to warn you as soon as I could."
"Thank you," said Marian. She waited until Bassam had left before wrapping her arms around Guy's waist and resting her chin on his shoulder. He seemed to be shell-shocked by the words.
"We shall have to hide for a bit," she said, evidently unhappy with the proposition.
"But what if he finds us?"
"We've got a few weeks yet to decide that. Come to bed." She kissed his cheek. "We'll think on it fresh in the morning."
"It's alright for you," Guy said, pulling out of her hold and turning to face her. "You can hide better than I can. I still have to go to the armoury."
"Guy! Forget it! It's too late to start worrying now! We'll think of something, but we'll think of it tomorrow." She smiled, and he smiled back at the desire dancing in her eyes. "Let's have a final night of freedom before Robin comes between us again."
"You know I love you…" he growled softly.
"I know you want me…" she replied.
They shared a kiss, at first chaste, becoming more sensuous. They'd survive, somehow. They were good at surviving. But that was the future. At that moment, the present was more important…
A/N: Djaq talks about Samurais at one point …I have done my research… Samurais have been around since about the 700's so I am not being anachronistic when I mention them. Go me for doing research!
I liked the idea of Guy and Marian living ordinary lives as peasant-type people, as their titles would mean nothing in Acre.
As per usual…please review!
