VIII – Unhealed Wounds

The summer days were long, and they were hot. There had been heavy rain in the week leading up to Midsummer, but now just a drop of cooling water from the sky would have been a blessing. The outlaws found themselves going out to Nottingham less and less. The heat of the sun was much more bearable when one could escape into the cool shadows of the forest.

While the others were happy to visit the villages only when necessary, Robin was getting bored. The life of a regular outlaw was too mundane for him – he needed to be with people and be a part of the action. Eventually he managed to drag Allan, Much and Adam with him to Nottingham. While Kate was nowadays going out with them for ambushes and other plans, it still wasn't wise for the Nightwatchman to just take a stroll around the city. John stayed behind in the forest as well, not bothering to come up with any excuses other than that it was too hot outside, and the others wouldn't need him in Nottingham – so long as they stayed out of trouble.

Robin had arranged to meet with Tuck, who had recently returned to Nottingham after being away for a while. The friar had proven to be a useful source of information, and he was sympathetic towards the outlaws' cause. It had been a while since Robin had had the chance to meet him, but now that Tuck was back in Nottingham, Robin was dying to hear any news he might have.

As they approached him near the butcher's shop, Tuck greeted them with a warm smile. Robin pulled Adam, who had tried to linger back, closer by his arm.

"This is Adam, the newest member of our gang. Adam, this is Tuck," Robin introduced.

"Pleasure to meet you," Tuck said, shaking Adam's hand. "Have we met before?" He looked intensely at Adam's face, like he was a piece to fit into a large puzzle.

Adam shrugged. "I don't recall ever meeting you. I tend to keep my distance from anything – or anyone – that has to do with God."

"Any particular reason for that?"

"Eh, I'd rather wait until I'm dead before I get judged," Adam replied nonchalantly, although his body was anything but relaxed.

"Anyway," Robin cut in, "would you come to the camp and have dinner with us? I'd love to hear any news from the rest of England."

"It would be my pleasure."

"You know, I don't think the Sheriff will believe that we're trying to catch up if you keep avoiding me," Isabella said.

She had shown up to Locksley, unannounced, and was determined to have an actual conversation with her brother. There were only so many things she could do in Nottingham, especially when she knew no-one.

Guy did an excellent job of either avoiding her in the first place, and in the few instances Isabella had managed to find him, he always had an explanation as to why he couldn't talk for long. How busy could he realistically be? So, Isabella had finally decided that Guy had had enough time to get used to her presence and come to Locksley to make sure they spoke. There were many things she needed answers for. And whether Guy wanted it or not, they were going to talk.

"It's not like he believes that anyway," Guy replied.

Isabella could see the uneasiness in him. Any time he was around, he had that same look on his face. When they had been younger, that look had meant he was guilty of something. She wanted to find out if it still held the same meaning.

"I think we should keep up appearances anyway." Isabella looked out of the window. "Join me for a walk."

Guy's brows knit together in a frown. "Do I have to?"

"Yes. I want to visit our mother's grave. Together."

That clearly struck a nerve in him. Isabella watched him shift uncomfortably in his chair.

"Come," she said, offering out her hand. He had no choice but to take it.

As they walked through the village, Isabella could see the disdain in the villagers' faces. She remembered well how these people had never liked them. To them, Guy and Isabella were outsiders. It had been the one thing binding the siblings together. Even when their parents were alive, they only had each other. If the villagers didn't like them, then they were forced to like each other.

Although she wasn't sure if that was still the reason for their frowns, because many of the peasants were clearly far too young to even remember Isabella and Guy as children.

"In my memories this place was much bigger," Isabella said, trying to start conversation.

"You were a child. Of course everything seemed bigger to you," Guy replied grimly.

"What did you think? When you got back, I mean. Was it how you remembered?"

Guy bit his teeth together. Clearly Isabella was poking a stick at a wasp nest.

"What was there to think? It's just a village," he said.

"But we grew up here."

Guy didn't answer.

They walked the rest of the way in silence. Once they got to their destination, Isabella had to practically drag Guy by his arm to stand in front of their mother's grave.

"I miss her so much," she admitted. Isabella ran the beads of her rosary through her fingers.

"Me too," Guy said simply.

"Do you remember when she would take us to the river and try to teach us to swim? They were always sunny summer days, just like this one. Although I never became a great swimmer anyway. I can still barely keep my head above water." Isabella closed her eyes. She could remember the sound of her mother's laughter and the warm summer breeze on her skin.

"You took your first steps there," Guy murmured.

Isabella opened her eyes and looked at her brother. There was a hint of a smile on his lips.

"You remember it?"

"Yes. Well, mostly I remember how you fell on your face and cried." Now he was smiling properly.

"And you, as my chivalrous brother ran to help me up?" Isabella pretended to be a little insulted, but she couldn't hide her own hopeful smile. Maybe she could find a way to get him to talk.

"Oh, no. I laughed. It's one of the first memories I have. Maman scolded me, of course."

Isabella nearly dropped the rosary. Guy hadn't called Ghislaine anything other than our mother since… Well, since she died. Eventually Isabella had adopted the same habit.

"Yes, Maman always wanted us to get along, didn't she?" Isabella fiddled with the rosary, twisting the beads around her wrist. When she looked back up at Guy, the smile on his lips was gone.

"We should get back."

The moment of understanding between them was clearly over. Isabella sighed and tried to hide her disappointment.

"Will you stay for dinner?" Guy asked, offering his arm to her. His voice was still soft, even if the smile was gone.

"Gladly," Isabella said and let him lead her back towards the village.

When Adam excused himself from the camp by saying he wasn't hungry, Much was immediately suspicious. Although over the summer he had concluded that Adam probably wasn't working for the Sheriff, the boy had still yet to gain his full trust. So, when Adam decided to just skip dinner – which was strange for an outlaw who wasn't always guaranteed proper meals anyway – Much made Allan go after him.

Allan had kept his eye on Adam, just like he had promised. So far there was nothing about him that Allan would have deemed suspicious. The kid was just private and didn't like to blabber about every detail in his life like Much did. In many ways, Allan recognised a lot of himself in Adam. He remembered a time when he had disliked sharing information about himself in the fear that it might be used against him. Lying had been the safer and easier option. Adam was the same way, although he didn't resort to lying like Allan had back in the day.

But because Allan knew that alleviating Much's anxieties would spare him from hearing another rant about how Much still didn't trust Adam, Allan went out to find the boy. He found Adam not too far from the camp, perched on the lowest branches of a tree.

"Are you really not hungry?" Allan asked.

Adam startled and would have fallen down if he hadn't caught himself in time.

"Don't sneak up on me like that!" Adam adjusted his position. "And no, I'm not hungry."

"So if I offered you this, you wouldn't take it?" Allan held up one of the two plates he was holding in his hands.

Adam thought for a moment before reaching down to accept it.

"Did Robin send you to babysit me?" Adam asked as he began to shovel the food into his mouth. So much for not resorting to lying.

"No, Much did." Allan sat on a nearby rock and began eating his own meal. "He thinks you're suspicious for not eating with the rest of us."

"Well I'm sorry if I'm not dying for news about the outside world like Robin is."

Allan watched as Adam ate with a frown on his face. He had a feeling there was more to the reason why Adam was acting so strangely today. "Well, you know Much. He thinks everything is suspicious."

"You mean everything I do," Adam said with his mouth full of food.

"No, he still doesn't trust me either."

The two fell silent. Adam had already eaten his plate empty and tossed it onto the ground.

"I used to be a lot like you," Allan said. He decided to try his luck with prying information out of Adam. "I only looked out for myself, I lied to get out of trouble and avoided getting too tangled up with… well, anything."

"And let me guess, then you became an outlaw and you became one of Robin Hood's heroic outlaws and blah blah blah, now you're a better person," Adam said and rolled his eyes.

"No. First, I betrayed my friends and put all of our lives in danger. Then I became a little bit better than what I was before." Allan looked up at Adam, who avoided his eyes.

"I'm not going to betray any of you."

"I know you won't, but how about you prove it to Much and start opening up a bit. You don't have to tell us your whole life story. Just… Show us that you consider us your friends and that you trust us, so that it's easier for us to trust you."

With that, Allan bent down to pick up Adam's plate and left.

Robin spent the whole dinner trying to squeeze any piece of news out of Tuck. Unfortunately for him, most of the things the friar had to tell were quite mundane. Much could sense Robin's disappointment. What had he been expecting in the first place? Rumours of the King's return? A secret plot from Prince John?

Much had spent the past six months trying to find the old Robin again. Yet the fence that had always existed between them had now turned into a solid wall, and Much was worried about what was happening on the other side. Robin was constantly either moody or obsessively throwing himself at whatever he happened to be obsessed with at the moment – right now it seemed to be getting information. Ever since Marian died, Robin had not been the same. And Much understood why, he really did. But he wanted to know that Robin was all right, that he was actually getting over Marian's death and not just pretending.

That was why after dinner, Much pulled Tuck aside.

"I… I have a favour to ask," he started, unsure how to approach the topic. Was he overstepping by involving Tuck in all of this?

"What is it?"

"Would you speak with Robin?" Much felt a little embarrassed. He should have been the one to get Robin to open up.

"About what?"

Much told Tuck everything that had been going on: Marian's death, Robin's reaction to Kate being the Nightwatchman, his tendency to bottle up things that bothered him – not that that was anything new – and everything else Robin had gone through recently.

"I will see what I can do," Tuck promised.

Much felt a little lighter, trusting that soon things would be better.

Isabella and Guy enjoyed their meal in an awkward silence. Well, enjoy was not really the right word, because the tension between them was enough to make anyone lose their appetite. Isabella kept moving the food around on her plate, trying to come up with something to say. They had been so close to having an actual connection earlier, and now they were back to the cold nothingness they were more familiar with.

Guy was more relaxed in her presence than before, but that didn't mean he was comfortable. Isabella was desperate to know what exactly it was that made him avoid her. So, she gathered her courage and asked the question that had been burning in her mind from the day she arrived at Locksley.

"Did you ever miss me?"

Guy had just been about to take a sip from his goblet, but it now hovered still against his lips.

"Should I have?" he asked, and downed the rest of the wine in one go.

Isabella was angry. Was this really how he felt about her?

"So you never, not once, thought about me?"

"I didn't say that," Guy said grimly and filled his goblet again.

"Did you ever regret selling me off to that… that monster?" Isabella struggled to restrain herself. She dreaded the answer, but she was not sure which would be worse; that Guy felt no remorse, and he was just as heartless as her husband, or that he did regret it, but did nothing to even find out if she was alive.

"Isabella. I explained it to you then, and I'll say it again: it was the only option I had."

"So you don't regret it?"

"No."

Isabella stared at her brother in shock. How could he admit it so openly?

"Do you feel no sympathy for your own sister? Did you ever even care about me? I had no-one in this world except for you, and you sold me to a man who beat me, raped me, and made every day of my life a living hell!" Isabella raised her voice, and she squeezed the knife in her hand tightly. Her eyes burned, but she refused to cry.

"Of course I cared about you! That is why I did what I did. We had no money, no friends, and nowhere to go. If you hadn't gotten married, we would have both died! Getting married saved your life!" Guy was getting heated as well. When his voice got louder, Isabella had to remind herself that he would not physically harm her. At least she hoped he wouldn't.

"Maybe I would have preferred death over the torture I had to live through!" she said. She could no longer hold back her tears.

"Really? You would rather have stayed with me, live with nothing, and possibly be forced to whore yourself out on the street just to survive, only to die of hunger or disease? Is that what you would have wanted?"

"Maybe I would have!" The silence that fell around them was deafening after all the shouting. Isabella tried to compose herself and reached for some wine.

"I didn't know how bad your marriage would end up being. I needed the money. You needed somewhere to stay. I thought I was doing the right thing," Guy said, much more quietly now.

"You knew what he was like."

"I thought he would grow out of it. I needed money. You were old enough to get married. I did what I had to."

"I was thirteen. I had no-one looking after me except for you. You were supposed to keep mesafe."

Isabella stood up. All she had wanted was to hear Guy say he was sorry, but he was clearly too busy being sorry for himself to do so. The hope for reconnection was long gone.

"I'm going back to Nottingham before it gets dark," she said and wiped away the tear-stains from her cheek.

Guy watched as she left and decided to drown the nagging voice at the back of his head with more wine.

Robin and Tuck were sat atop of a small hill, where they had a good view of the forest that basked in the golden glow of the setting sun.

"So, what was it you wanted to speak to me about?" Robin asked as he settled down.

"Much asked me to speak with you," Tuck said. He thought it would be better to be direct when it came to one's feelings and deepest thoughts.

Robin sighed. "Of course he did."

"He is worried about you."

"He's always worried. Especially when there is no reason to be."

"Are you sure he has no reason this time?" Tuck asked. Robin began to pick on the moss growing on the tree he was leaning against. "He worries you are not handling Lady Marian's death well."

"It's been months. I'm fine," Robin said, biting his teeth together.

"Much thinks you are not. I understand you had trouble accepting Kate as the Nightwatchman?"

Robin sighed again deeply. Of course Much had told Tuck about everything.

"I only had trouble with it because… Well, I was afraid that she might ruin the Nightwatchman's reputation."

"Do you still think that way?"

Robin hesitated. "I… No. I think Kate has done well."

"And have you told her this?"

Robin continued picking on the moss.

"We all deal with grief in different ways," Tuck said, "but at some point you should talk to your friends about your grief and Lady Marian. You do not have to go through this all alone."

The sun made the unshed tears in Robin's eyes shine.

"How can I talk to them about this, when none of them would understand?" he started, his wavering voice pulled tight. "The love of my life died in my arms, and I lost all direction in life. I have always had some kind of a goal, yet now I can see no future for myself. I keep on fighting, because it's all I can do, but I'm not entirely sure what it is I'm fighting for." Robin nearly choked on the last words.

Tuck decided to change tactics and give Robin some time to collect himself.

"I understand how you feel. I once lost someone I cared about deeply. For a while, all I knew was grief, and just like you, I didn't know what I was living for."

Robin waited for Tuck to continue.

"We had known each other for our whole lives. Whenever I thought about the future, I pictured him by my side. Then, one day, he… He was wrongly accused of something he did not do and had to pay the price for it. For a while, all I could feel was bitterness," Tuck said.

"What helped?"

"Distance." Tuck looked over the trees at the setting sun. "I went all the way to the Holy Land to try and find answers. At the time, even my faith faltered. Why would God let injustice happen? Why would he let us suffer and grieve like this? But during my travels I was able to distance myself from my own problems and see that injustice can always be beaten with justice. I let myself grieve through my grief and found a new purpose for myself."

"Well, it's difficult to get any distance when everything here reminds me of Marian," Robin said bitterly.

"Sometimes the distance we need is not physical. Sometimes all we need is time," Tuck said.

Robin leaned his head against the tree. Time. He had both too much and too little of it. And now Marian had none.

"Do you still think about the person you lost?" he asked.

"Yes. There is still pain and longing, but time and distance have made it bearable." Tuck stood up and placed a hand on Robin's shoulder. "Please, speak with your friends. It is hard, but together it is easier to carry this weight."

Adam waited until Tuck disappeared towards the road before going back to the camp. Out of all the friars in the world, he had to be the one to show up. And right now? Someone out there had a strange sense of humour. Adam would not be upset if he never had to run into Tuck again.

When he got back to the camp, he tried to make himself as unnoticeable as possible. It didn't work, and Kate picked up on his bad mood. She suggested an archery competition – clearly a way to try and cheer him up – but Adam declined as politely as he could. Right now, he just wanted to be left alone with his thoughts.