Robin held Marian's hand as they headed for the Locksley village church. He was seeking Friar Tuck to tell him about the witch Gwyan, and to ask for advice about what, if anything, he should do about her presence in the forest. Robin wanted Marian included in the discussion, for he valued her judgment, especially when things concerned the treatment of women.
Friar Tuck had recently returned to Nottinghamshire after a long absence. Years ago, he had been Marian's and her father's personal confessor, but had departed the shire when Sir Edward was replaced by Vaisey as Sheriff. Tuck had known Robin and Marian for years, and loved them like a true Christian brother. Or, more accurately, like a Christian uncle, for he remembered them as children, and his feelings for them were strongly paternalistic. He was a tender hearted soul, who loved God fiercely, but was out of favor with his fellow Benedictine brothers, for he let his conscience dictate him, rather than the rules of their order. Besides that, he loved "the pleasures of the table," as his rotund belly attested, and was considered a glutton by those who looked down upon him with disfavor. Robin considered him a true friend, and was pleased to install him as the resident friar at Locksley.
Lord and Lady Locksley discovered Tuck on a bench in the church, snoring loudly, sleeping off a heavy noonday meal.
"Good afternoon, Tuck," Robin said, laughing when the friar shot up in surprise, unaware he had dropped off to sleep.
"Master Robin! Lady Marian! Forgive me! I had not meant to sleep! The day is warm, thanks be to our gracious Father, and the hum of bees outside the church must have lulled me to a peaceful slumber."
"Not to mention that heaping platter of roast beef and Yorkshire pudding you just ate. Or was it the couple of tankards of ale you washed it down with?" Robin jested.
Tuck laughed abashedly. "My weakness, I confess. Thank you for wakening me. There is much to do. I must prepare the sacraments for evening mass."
"Before you do that," Marian said, "my husband would like a word with both of us. Do you mind?"
"Mind? Most certainly not!" Tuck hurriedly straightened his cassock and the rope around his expansive middle. Fingering his crucifix from long standing habit, he asked, "What is it, Robin?"
The young lord grew serious. "I need advice," he began, "from both of you." He breathed out a long drawn out sigh, then firmly continued.
"Much and I met a witch in the forest today. Actually, we sought her out, as you know, Marian. And I don't know what to do about her."
Tuck remained silent, but Marian asked, "What do you mean, 'do?' And are you sure she's a witch, Robin? I mean, for years, people have accused Matilda of being one, and she's not."
"This woman's nothing like Matilda, but you mentioning her gives me an idea. I'd like to see Matilda face off with this woman. Maybe force some sense into her."
Tuck remained silent, listening and thinking, his chubby hands folded on top of his belly, fingering his rosary beads.
Robin described the condition of the witch's cave, and the woman herself, leaving out the bits about her rubbing up against him, and her curses.
"She's all alone out there, except for an oversized toad, and she's obviously not in her right mind. I was harsh, forbidding her to come to Locksley unless she confesses her sins and turns away from them, which she won't do, if she's as deranged in her mind as I think." He sighed again. "I don't know how to help her, other than provide for her basic needs, and keep her whereabouts quiet. If the sheriff finds out about her, he'll burn her at the stake."
Tuck groaned aloud, and Marian ventured, "I could go to her and clean up her home. At least get her out of the unhealthy filth you described."
Tuck shook his head. "You are both too kind, and I love you all the better for it. But you are not considering that this Gwyan is living the way she chooses."
"But if she's not right in her mind, and she's not, is she capable of making those choices?" Robin asked with passion. "By God, Tuck, she'd tied dozens of twig people to trees, and accused me of killing her 'children' after I tore them down. Does that sound like someone who can make rational choices?"
Marian took Robin's hand in her own again. Tuck shook his head slowly. "The blood in her cave and decomposing carcasses warn me that she is choosing to practice sorcery, Robin, and has turned her back on our Lord. It comes as no surprise that her mind is addled. You are right that she needs help, but I advise you both to stay clear of her."
Robin and Marian remained quiet, recognizing that Tuck was trying to think. At last, the friar seemed to come up with a solution.
"Your instincts were right, Robin, when you wanted to include Marian in this matter. It will take a woman, as well as a man, to help this Gwyan. But again, I beg of you to step aside, and allow those of us in holy orders to take charge. There is a new Abbess at Kirklees, who is said to be unusually devout. I will go to her, and seek her assistance."
"We've heard she is beautiful," Marian said, "but that she hides her face when outside the Abbey walls."
"So it is said," Tuck vouched. "I have heard she hides her beauty because she wishes to overcome the sin of vanity. Others say she hides her face to prevent men from being tempted by the sight of her."
"I should like to meet that Abbess," Robin grinned, and Marian playfully agreed, "I'd be happy to introduce you. You have need of someone who can teach you something about overcoming vanity, my lord husband."
Robin smiled appreciatively at his wife, his heart lighter for having turned the problem of the witch over to Tuck.