The storm Count Friederick predicted raged on, with brilliant cracks of lightening, defeaning thunder, and a torrential downpour of rain. Through it all, Marian waited impatiently for Robin to return from the monastery.

When he and Much at last arrived, each carrying three Benedictine robes, they were soaked to their skins, but triumphant. "It took some persuading," Robin told his men who gathered round him, "but we did it. Six black robes, a little soaked with rain, but none the worse for that." He noticed Marian hanging back, her attitude as stormy as the weather. Anticipating her resistance, he chose to ignore her. "Is there somewhere we can hang these," he asked the count pleasantly, "so they'll be ready for tomorrow?"

"Truda!" The count called brusquely for a maid servant. He issued an order in German, and the maid took all six robes away.

Robin's previous jealous mood had vanished. Now that the count had agreed to act as spokesperson and confessor at Aggstein, he forgave him for seeming to be a frivolous womanizer after his wife.

"Now lads," Robin said, dripping rain onto the count's floor, "work to do."

"Warm baths and dry clothing for both of you first," the count commanded, fussy about his home. "And off with those boots! Heinrich!" He called for a manservant to assist the drenched outlaws.

"We can remove our own boots," Robin told him. "Though dry clothing would be welcome. Thank you."

"Don't forget the warm baths," Much added.

Robin had no intention of wasting time soaking in a bath. He only wanted to get dry, then speak to his men about his plan for tomorrow. "A bath then, for Much," he said. "None for me, thank you." Excusing himself then heading to his rooms, he heard Marian's footsteps following him. Knowing a battle awaited them, he readied himself to meet her anger with calm understanding reason. He was determined not to let his emotions take control of him, as they always seemed to do whenever he argued with her.

Once the couple were alone, Robin peeled off his wet things and placed them by the fire to dry, then put on one of Count Friedrick's robes. It was short on him and too tight in the shoulders, but it sufficed to cover him while his own clothing dried.

"When were you planning to tell me you were going to leave me behind?" Marian asked accusingly.

Robin pretended to be occupied, drying his knife. "I see you've been talking to Djaq," he said smugly.

"At least you had the courtesy to ask her and Will's opinions, whether she should stay or go. Is there a reason you couldn't extend me the same civility, Robin?"

"I didn't need to ask you, Marian. I already knew what you'd do, if I gave you a choice."

"Is it so wrong to want to save the king?"

"You've done your part."

"How? By being a pretty bauble, to get Friederick to help you?"

"Yes."

"You won't let me go to Aggstein because I'm a woman!"

"No, because you're bullheaded."

"Bullheaded? That's rich, coming from you!"

"I think you would have learned by now!" he shouted, his plan to be rational extinguished by his onslaught of emotion. "You saved the king once before, and got yourself killed in the process!"

"I didn't die."

"Only by a twist of fate. You're staying here, Marian, and that's final."

"Who's bullheaded now?" she asked.

"You are."

"No, it's you. Anyway, you can't stop me."

"I wouldn't be so sure if I were you."

"What do you plan to do? Tie me to a chair?"

"If I have to."

Her mouth dropped open. "You wouldn't dare!"

He snickered at her. "Try me."

She wanted to hit him. "I'll ride with Friederick in his coach. You'll need every man available for this mission. Besides, I already have my own disguise. Look!" Proud and defiant, she showed him the black Benedictine robe Count Friederick had secured for her on their coach ride.

Robin was surprised. "Where did you get that robe?" he asked.

"Friederick got it for me. You were only going to get six, and I knew you weren't going to let me have one."

"Alright, Marian," Robin said snidely, "put it on."

"Now? Why? Robin, what are going to do?"

"Nothing! I just want to see how you look, disguised as a monk."

Angry and suspicious, she pulled the robe over her head.

"Don't forget the belt," he added, handing her a narrow braided rope.

She tied it around her waist and stood before him. "Well?" she asked.

Robin snickered again. "Take a look at your reflection," he advised.

She did, and knew that she could never pass for a monk.

"Like you said," Robin continued, smugly, "I'll need every available man for this mission. You could never pass for a man, my love, not that I'm complaining."

"I fooled you, as the Night Watchman. I fooled everyone."

"Because your face was covered, and you wore that thick leather vest and your cape over it. Not to mention, you mostly ventured out in the dark of night."

"You had no idea I was a woman! You fought me and I beat you, remember?"

"Hardly. Anyway, if I was fooled at first, it was only because I didn't expect a woman, especially you, to dress up like a man. Once I knew you were the Night Watchman, I wondered how you fooled anybody, with all your curves."

She pulled the robe off over her head, struggling with it because of her anger. "You couldn't tell I was a woman, and I did beat you in that fight. You can't stop me, Robin. I'll pretend I'm a nun, if I have to."

"No, Marian, you won't. We don't know what we're walking into. We have to rely on the count to speak for us, and understand what's said."

"You'll have more trouble with Much than from me. Aren't Benedictine monks supposed to be silent? And I doubt they tell coarse jokes, as Allan does."

"They'll stay quiet, Marian. You'll stay here."

"No, I won't."

"Do you really want to get yourself raped again?"

It was as if Robin had hit her. Marian gasped, then shuddered. She crossed her arms and pulled them against her chest, and seemed to sink into herself. Her eyes filled with tears, as she relived the awful moment Guy of Gisbourne had found her outside Bonchurch.

Robin was immediately sorry. "Marian, I did not mean that."

"Leave me alone," she told him.

"I'm sorry, my love," Robin told her sincerely. "But it's true. The Kuenringers of Aggstein rape every woman they catch, according to the count. I can't let that happen to you."

"But you can risk death?" she asked, her voice small.

"I risk death every day. You know that. I only want to protect you, Marian."

"And I want to protect you! How many times have you needed me, Robin, and I saved you?"

"Again and again, Marian, and I'm grateful. I don't doubt your ability to fight. I just need you to stay here, this one time, because I can't risk having you hurt again."

"I want to fight," she said. "It feels like you going off to battle and leaving me behind, all over again."

"I'm not leaving you! I'll return the following day. Hopefully, with the king!"

"I hope so."

Marian felt defeated, but she refused to give up. She believed both Robin and the king needed her, and she wouldn't let them down, even if she had to hide herself in Friederick's coach.

Robin, she could tell, wanted to hold her and make up their argument, and she wanted to feel his arms around her just as much. But just as their lips touched, the count's home seemed to be invaded.

"What is that noise?" Marian asked, pulling away.

Loud shrieks and running footsteps sounded from outside their door. "Sounds like children," Robin said, confused.

Their door flew open. The doorway framed a large blond woman with rosy cheeks and a very ample bosom. Count Friederick stood behind her, dwarfed by her massive size. He jumped, so that Robin and Marian could see him. Three children pushed past them racing into the room, and began jumping on the bed.

"Permit me to introduce my family," the count said delightedly, escorting the large beaming woman into the room. "My lovely wife, Countess Ermegard, and our three youngest savages. The other four are gaping at your servant Much, in his bath. Ermy, may I present my friends from England? This is Lord and Lady Locksley."

"How do you do?" Marian asked, stunned.

"A pleasure," Robin said, highly amused.

"Kuchen?" the countess asked.

"She would like to know if you'd enjoy some cake," the count translated.

"Kuchen sounds great," Robin said, grinning, "that is, if Her Ladyship doesn't mind my state of undress."

The countess surprised him by answering in English. "Ach!" she exclaimed, hands on her broad hips. "You look good enough to eat yourself," she said, sharing a laugh with her husband.