Chapter One

Sherwood Forest

The smell of rabbits cooking on the campfire filled the night air. Robin and Will spoke in hushed, serious tones about their plans to distribute food and money to the villages of Kirklees and Locksley the following day without being seen by the Sheriff's men. The guard around Locksley and the surrounding villages had been doubled since Robin's last head-to-head with the Sheriff, which had resulted in the loss of a substantial sum of gold intended to strengthen Prince John's army and fifteen of the Sheriff's best soldiers. Needless to say, the Sheriff was not best pleased with the outlaws.

Little John was teaching Djaq how to use a longstaff in battle. She was sure that she would be fine with only her sword, but as John pointed out, using a staff properly would mean she could take down more opponents in less time, while being able to maintain a safe enough distance to dodge any retaliation. Djaq proved to be a keen student and before long she had quite literally swept Little John off his feet, knocking him to the ground and winding him. Despite groaning like a wounded bear, he ended up laughing with pride at how quickly Djaq had not only managed to wield a staff almost twice her size, but best him in the process.

Much was uncharacteristically silent. He gazed into the flames of the campfire as he absentmindedly continued to turn the rabbit on the small spit. Robin had noticed that his former manservant had been quieter than usual for a few days, but had put it down to either a held grudge over some gentle teasing that had got out of hand several days earlier, or a bellyache. However, as the days went on and Much still hadn't returned to his affable, over-enthusiastic, jovial self - Robin had to admit he was rather worried about his friend.

"Much?" Robin called. Much didn't reply. Robin wasn't even sure if Much had heard him, his expression was so solemn and his demeanour so heavy that he seemed to be miles away. He stood up, walked over to Much and squeezed his shoulder gently. "Much?" he repeated, his voice soft and concerned. Much seemed to snap out of his trance and he shook his head briskly.

"Yes, Master?"

"Is everything all right?" Robin asked, his brow furrowed with worry. Much took a breath, clamped his lips together and nodded.

"Of course," he said, forcing a smile and a breath of laughter that neither came from his heart nor reached his eyes. "I need to get some vegetables prepared for the rabbit or Djaq will complain we aren't eating properly again," he said, standing up and dusting his trousers down. "Would you be able to keep an eye on the rabbits? I don't want them to burn," he asked, and walked away without waiting for a response. Robin frowned as he watched Much walk away. This was definitely not like him. This was surely more than a bellyache or an oversensitive reaction to the gang's teasing. Robin folded his arms, deep in thought.

"Will?" he called, still not taking his eyes from Much, noting the way his shoulders hunched and his head was bowed, the weary way he trudged away from the camp, as though the forest floor were made of honey.

"Yeah?" Will called back. Robin gestured with his head toward the rabbits on the spit and Will nodded his understanding. Robin rubbed his hands over his face and started after Much.

The food parcels for the poor had all been made up, with some fruits, vegetables and bread left over to keep the camp fed. These were now stored a short distance away from the main camp, just in case their position was compromised now that Allan worked for Gisborne. In the event that their camp was destroyed, the outlaws would still be able to care for the poor as normal while Will concentrated on a new camp. Much had all of a sudden felt very restricted and enclosed in the main camp, despite being in the open air of the forest. He found himself breathing more deeply as he walked away from the rest of the men, trying to fight the tears that were burning the back of his eyes.

He picked two parsnips out of the vegetable pile and began peeling them when he became keenly aware of a figure just behind his left shoulder. Without thinking, he turned sharply, brandishing the knife threateningly.

"Steady on!" Robin protested with a chuckle, holding his hands up in protest. A look of sheer horror took over Much's face as he realised he could have hurt Robin.

"Oh no! Forgive me, Master, I did not realise you were there! I could have killed you!" he shouted, more out of fright and shock than anger. "Why must you sneak up on me like that?" he demanded. Robin couldn't help but chuckle at his friend's dramatic response. "It isn't FUNNY, Robin. I may have killed you and then where would I be? Who would I have left?" he asked, his voice cracking as a tear finally forced its way over his lower eyelid. Robin squeezed Much's arm reassuringly.

"What's this really about, Much?" he asked. "My friend, do you think I have not noticed how sombre you have been the last few days? I know that something troubles you. If there is a way I can help, I will do it, but I cannot help if you do not let me," he said, using much the same tone he would use to comfort a crying child.

Much shook his head sadly. "I am afraid there is nothing that can be done. I have been thinking of my family more and more often these past days," he said. Robin frowned.

"I thought you said you have no family?"

"That is true," Much said in a small voice. "My parents died of the pestilence when my sister and I were but fifteen years old." This was the first time that Robin had ever heard of any members of Much's family. He presumed that Much must have had parents, of course - after all, didn't everyone? However, Much had kept details of his life before coming to Locksley something of a keenly-guarded secret, for reasons Robin didn't quite understand. He had always presumed that talking about his family was too painful, and, judging by how upset Much was now, Robin feared that his presumption had been correct.

"Your sister?" Robin repeated, his eyebrows shooting almost into his hairline with surprise. Much nodded, smiling through his tears at his memories.

"My twin. She was twenty minutes older than me and never once let me forget it," he said with a fond chuckle. Robin smiled at him indulgently as Much continued his story. "We were nothing alike - not even in the way we looked, she was as dark as I am fair - and yet we loved each other so fiercely. Should anyone upset me, my sister would confront them. It was because of her I ended up leaving the village and eventually coming to Locksley," he said.

"How so?" Robin asked. Much sniffed a little theatrically and rubbed his clenched hands over his eyes.

"After our parents died, she went into service at the local noble's house, as a cook. I wanted to go with her but she knew that the master, Lord Rufford, was cruel and would beat his servants if he wasn't happy with their work, so she told me that I was to go far away and find work with a kind master. When I had saved enough money I was to send for her. I sent word to her that I was in Locksley and had started putting some money away, but then the Crusades came, and we were away for so long, and-"

"What happened to her?" Robin asked, an awful sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach.

"Not long before we returned home, I got word that Lord Rufford's manor had been burned to the ground. There was no report of any survivors," he said. Robin hung his head and sighed.

"Why did you never tell me any of this?" he asked, trying not to sound wounded but nonetheless feeling a little saddened that Much had never trusted him with his story before. Much shrugged.

"There always seemed to be more pressing things happening to us," he said. "But it was our birthday last week and... I find I miss her more and more as the years pass," he said, his lower lip trembling as he tried in vain to quell any more tears from spilling down his cheeks.

Robin pulled Much into a warm embrace, cradling the back of his head as Much wept onto his shoulder.

"I am so sorry for what happened to your family, Much. I wish I had known, I wish I could have helped. I could have sent for your sister so much sooner. I wish I could do something now for you," he said, sincerely.

"Well," Much said, stepping away and wiping his eyes and nose on his sleeve. "You could have watched the rabbits like I asked you!" Robin let out a shout of laughter.

"That's my old Much, always prioritising the food!" he said with a wink and a smile as he draped an arm around Much's shoulders. "Come on, I'll get Will to finish the vegetables, you come back to the camp and rest up." Much shook his head.

"Thank you, Robin, but I would rather keep busy. Besides, last time Will cooked for the camp I could swear that a chunk of turnip stuck in my windpipe for a week!" he said, screwing his face up in disgust at the memory. Robin chuckled and patted Much on the back.

"Very well. Tomorrow in Locksley, we will hand out the food and money parcels to the poor. I know that will cheer you up, it always does," he reminded him. Much beamed at the thought and nodded enthusiastically.

"It does, I love the handing out of parcels. I only wish we could give more," he said. Robin smiled.

"If only everyone's heart was as big as yours, my friend. There would be no need of food parcels," he said, turning away and walking back to the camp. Much sniffed back the last few remnants of his tears and smiled a little to himself. There were many times that Robin was dismissive of him and talked over him and shouted at him - but when it came down to it, Robin was truly the best friend that Much had ever had.

Without warning, butterflies began swarming in Much's belly and the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. He could feel as though something was going to happen, something completely out of the ordinary. What, he didn't know, but he knew that soon nothing would be quite the same again. He looked up at the sky and admired the twinkling of the stars with an innocent wonder. The moon reached far over the canopy of the trees and a cool damp hung in the air. There was something new about it all, and his heartbeat quickened at the idea of the unexpected.

"God?" he asked, not much louder than a whisper. "Thank you for caring for my parents and my sister until I can be with them again. And for whatever tomorrow may bring, please let something truly good happen, just once."

A star just to the left of the moon twinkled more brightly than before for a brief moment, and Much took it as a sign that God had heard him. He started singing happily and tunelessly to himself as he chopped the parsnips and cabbage, finally feeling free of the sadness that had overwhelmed him for the previous few days.

Had he known what would befall him the following day, perhaps he would also have danced as he sang.