They stood in the edge of the trees, watching the pickets, alarmed. "Well we can't bloody well just march down the road and in the gate, can we?" Much demanded acidly. "They'd shoot us on sight!"
"Isn't that what we always do, though?" Robin countered easily. The others shifted nervously. "No, you're right, there has to be another way in." He scanned up and down the picket line with a frown. "Wait. The only one who HAS to get in, is Tom. Are you up to it?" He was watching her closely. He knew Gisborne was in the castle; if she saw him and froze, she'd be captured for sure. "You don't have to do this."
"Yes, I do." It would make up for not saving Much from the lash, if nothing else. She still felt an enormous guilt for that. Seeing Gisborne had shocked her immobile and she hadn't been where they were to meet. So Much had gone looking for her, which got him caught and beaten. She was responsible and she was going to make amends if it killed her. "I'm the only one who can talk to Lisette. She's my best friend. If I can get in ten words, she'll help us. I just need to get inside."
"All right, then, we'll draw out the guards at the gates. You can slip inside once they're busy with us. And how do you get out?" Robin wasn't letting her do this without some kind of plan in place. And a contingency plan if that one failed.
"The same way, I suppose. Distract the guards somehow, or slip out with one of the wagons or something." She gave a shrug. She was frightened that she would run into her husband but she'd not let them see it.
"No. Give us time to think of a plan, Tom." Robin was firm. He didn't want any of his gang hurt, not ever, and this seemed like a ripe opportunity for something bad to happen to any of them. The guards might be better shots – unlikely. They might be smarter – even more so.
"Robin, shut up." Tom grinned to take some of the sting from her words. "If I can get in, I can get out. If I have to, I'll just walk out right down the middle of the road and hope no one recognizes me. That's probably going to be the best option, at that. I'm not so well known here, not yet."
"But the guards know you," John argued as he drew her in close. He'd become quite willing to hold her, to steady her, and now he used that familiarity to try and make her see reason. "They know what you look like or we'd never have gotten out before. It's too dangerous."
She touched his cheek lightly. "I'll be fine." She gave him a swift kiss on the cheek, surprising them both. "Now, if you lot would be so kind as to make some noise, I'll be on my way." But John didn't let her go. "John..."
He pulled her in closer and kissed her. She melted against him, letting him hold her weight, her arms around him, holding him as tightly as he held her. Then, reluctantly and regretfully, he set her back. "Go on, then. But you'd better be careful. Don't make us have to come in after you." But he couldn't say it with a straight face. "Go."
She was blushing furiously but nodded and started out onto the road. They wouldn't have been able to get past the pickets so she'd take the direct approach. And when Robin and the others stepped out, she was completely disregarded in favor of the guards chasing them. So she was able to simply walk in the gates, though she wasn't taking any unnecessary risks. Her cloak was pulled tight about her, the hood raised so her hair wasn't visible. It was distinctive and she couldn't chance being recognized by that alone.
She made her careful way into the village proper and went to the market. It would be open today, and Lisette loved to shop. There might be nothing she wanted, but she'd still wander around and look. So it was a simple matter to sidle up close when she found her friend and murmur a greeting. "You're looking well," she said quietly.
Lisette didn't turn but she did smile. "I was wondering when you'd turn up," she replied just as softly. "Trust you to take something as simple as getting married and turn it into such a farce."
"It wasn't exactly all my fault," Tom said with a growl. "He's a monster. I had no idea – and I had no choice. But that's not why I'm here."
"Oh, I know why you're here, certainly," Lisette replied and Tom felt a sharp stab of fear. "Robin Hood. Right? Well, you can forget me helping you with that. Someone has to keep these people in line. He's an outlaw and a murderer and I'll have nothing to do with him."
"What have you done?" Tom asked softly as she paled. "Lisette, what happened to you?"
"I learned my place," was the calm reply. "Don't bother to run, my friend. They know you're here. They've been watching."
Tom startled when the guards moved near but she prudently kept her hands away from her weapons. She made no attempt to flee when they surrounded her, and she went willingly enough when they told her they were taking her to the dungeon. She did, however, go completely white and take a step back when Gisborne appeared in front of them. "I'll take charge of the prisoner," he said simply as he waved them away.
He made no move to touch her, simply watched her for a moment before opening a door. "Inside."
She went. And she went immediately to the far wall, putting her back against it and watching him like a trapped animal. "What do you want?" she asked softly. She wanted to sound defiant, but it was too far beyond her.
"Five minutes of your time. That's all. I won't touch you, I won't even come near you. But I'd like you to listen." Guy wanted to make sure she understood. He still hated her. He still wouldn't forgive her for trying to kill him, and for making a fool of him. But he understood her reasons and that made a difference.
She kept wary eyes on him, but said nothing. Finally she nodded.
"Good. First, you need to understand something." How to put this? "When the idea of our marriage was presented to me, it seemed like a perfectly executed plan. I would have the power I craved, the wealth, the standing, and a capable if a bit headstrong wife. Then, when it was done, before we were actually introduced, Prince John told me of your true nature." His lips curled in a sneer.
"And that would be?" She couldn't help herself. This was so far from what she expected from him that she was intrigued. She had no weapons, the guards had taken them from her, and she had no illusion that she'd get close enough to steal one of his and hurt him with it. But he'd made no move toward her and she was starting to relax a little. Probably not prudent, but she was anyway.
"That you hated authority. That you would never bow to the will of a husband as you wouldn't bow to the will of your Prince." He ran a hand through his hair. "If allowed to meet you unhindered, Thomasina, I would never have raised a hand to you. I'd never even have raised my voice. I hurt you badly because I believed him and I will always regret that." His eyes hardened again and she stiffened. "But attacking me deserved a response and you got it."
"And what about YOU attacking ME?" She raged as she stepped forward, fists clenched. She stopped before she'd gone three steps, knowing that in a fight he could beat her easily. He'd proven it.
"A mistake. An awful one. One I regret more than you will ever understand." He half raised a hand toward her and lowered it when she stepped back again, almost flinching.
"What do you want?" she demanded suddenly, stiffening her spine and gathering her courage. There was something more here, more than a mere apology. She thought she knew what it was and he could rot in the deepest levels of hell.
"Thomasina. Tom." Her eyes flew to his face, flashing fire. "That IS what you prefer, isn't it? Look, we're both bound to this. It needn't be unpleasant. I don't care for you, and I never will. You weren't my choice. But if we present a united front, a marriage proper, we can both profit from it."
"You weren't my choice, either, you arrogant sod," Tom shot back furiously. Her fear was forgotten for the moment in her anger. "And it would be extremely unpleasant, because I loathe the very sight of you. And how, pray tell, would ~I~ benefit from it? I'd be tied to you forever. No, thank you." She'd have to find a way to get past him.
"You would be free." His words were soft, persuasive. "I can protect you from Vaizey and Prince John, as long as you remain my wife in fact. No more hiding in the forest, eating slop. No more running from the guards every time you see one. I will treat you well, and you will be kept in complete comfort." He extended his hand toward her, watching her.
She eyed his hand warily. "And if I refuse?" She wasn't about to accept, even to save her own skin. She might be bound to this bastard by marriage, but her heart was bound to John's by love. She'd never betray that.
He sighed heavily and drew his hand back. "I'll get you out of the castle. From there, you're on your own. I can't protect you if you don't stay."
She blinked. He would do that for her even if she refused him? Had she really misjudged him so badly? It seemed so. She shook her head. "I can't."
Guy looked at the ceiling for a moment before withdrawing two parchments and a small package. "Here. Go to the Trip Inn. The guards won't bother you, they'll be elsewhere. Give this one to the barkeep. He'll think you're on a courier run for the Sheriff and will show you a secret way out. You'll emerge far beyond the picket lines. You'll be safe." She had refused him. He'd given her his apologies, his best arguments, and they hadn't swayed her. Why? Women were supposed to want comfort and protection. And the infuriating little wench in front of him wanted nothing to do with them. She'd rather remain cold, hungry, and free in the forest than stay with him.
It was galling.
"What's in the other?" she asked quietly as she turned it over in her hands. Prince John's seal? Was he REALLY giving them information?
"Nothing. It's merely a ruse to get you out safely. The message is blank. The package, that is for you. An apology, of sorts." He did finally touch her then, a swift, short caress of her cheek before stepping away and opening the door. "Go, before I change my mind."
She watched him for a moment. "You'll need something to tell them as to how I escaped yet again."
"Don't worry about that part. There's a key in the door. Lock me in. I'll give you a count of a hundred and then I'm going to start yelling for the guards." Why was he doing this? She was a traitor, a thief, and an outlaw. She wanted nothing to do with him, not even in friendship. She hated him. So why was he helping her?
Because he had to. Because he hadn't helped Marian when he should have. Because instead of helping Marian, he had brought her death at his own hand. That wasn't going to happen again. He'd not kill, or allow to be killed, one he should protect. She was his wife, even if she didn't acknowledge it. He owed her protection.
So he waited until she had done as she asked and drew his dagger, regarding it steadily for only a moment before drawing a slice down the chest piece of his leather, scoring it deeply though not biting through to skin. It would give the appearance of a fight to anyone looking for such. Then, once he reached a hundred, he started yelling.