Robin, returning to the convent, secured his horse and unsaddled it, checked and cleaned each hoof, then fed and watered it before entering the convent and limping toward the guest chambers where his family resided.

It was late, far later than he'd promised to return, and he hoped Marian was not worried. On his way to her, he passed the door of his daughters' room and stopped. He could hear his wife's lovely voice through the door, singing a lullaby, and the sound made him ache with its beauty and all it represented. He stood still a moment, his eyes closed, his hand on the door latch, listening. Listening, and praying without words, for he couldn't form the words to give God, unable to stop picturing the men he had slain today.

The lullaby over, he heard Ellen's piping voice ask for another, and the nurse object. Robin turned the door latch and entered, his eyes meeting Marian's. Her initial look of gladness and relief was quickly replaced by sternness, but then, when she read the look on his face, by concern.

There were no arrows in his quiver, and Marian knew he had met trouble.

Grace was already asleep, but Ellen called happily to him. "Daddy! I missed you, Daddy!"

The nurse looked up from mending Grace's stockings and gave him her capable, professional smile. Robin found it easier to look at her than at his family, for she made everything seem steady and normal, while his family was so precious to him he had to fight back tears. Conquering his emotion, he limped toward Ellen's bed to kiss her goodnight.

Marian, seated on the edge of the bed, saw his limp and her concern increased. Her eyes searched Robin's, but he dismissed her worries by telling her, "It's nothing. A scratch."

Robin bent down to kiss Ellen and couldn't hide the grimace his pain caused.

"More than a scratch, I think," Marian said.

Ellen smiled up at him from her pillow, her rag doll clutched in her hands. She was so tiny, Robin thought, so innocent, so trusting.

"Sorry I'm late," Robin told her truthfully, remembering he'd promised he'd be back in time for supper. "Did you have a good day?"

"Mama teached me to write my name. I'll show you!"

"Tomorrow," Marian said. "I taught you," she corrected gently, "but it's time for you now to sleep."

" 'Night, Daddy. I already said my prayers. 'Night, Mama."

"Goodnight, Ellie."

The couple walked out of the room together and closed the door. "What happened?" Marian asked, with loving urgency. "Robin, you're bleeding!"

There was blood on all his clothing, Marian realized, not only where he was wounded. "What happened?" she repeated.

Robin found it difficult to tell her. The recent memory of the men he slaughtered hurt too much.

"An arrow wound," he said at last. "Would you mind stitching it closed?"

"Go to our room," she ordered, trying not to tremble. "Take off your pants and I'll be there directly."

When Marian returned with basin, soap, needle and thread, Robin was already undressed down to his undershorts.

"Where do you want me to stand?" he asked.

"By the fire, where I can see."

Robin brought a cushion for Marian to kneel upon, and Marian couldn't help appreciate his thoughtfulness toward her, even when she knew he was hurting.

"First, I need to wash your wound," she told him, wondering how it happened.

"OW!"

"It's a good thing God designed women to bear babies," Marian mentioned, patting gently at his thigh. "Men couldn't handle the pain."

Robin almost smiled, and Marian was glad. She knew there was something far worse than his obvious wound that was hurting him.

"What is that...soap?" Robin asked.

"Lavender soap. The nuns here are famous for their soap making."

Threading a needle, she waited for him to confess what had happened. He wanted to tell her, but he hurt too much to admit what he'd been through, and she said, "The needle's ready. Are you prepared?"

"What?" Robin teased, showing a touch of his usual cheek. "No warning?"

Marian looked up at him and smiled, warmed by the memory and his returning cheerfulness. "You're in luck, Handsome. This needle is neither thick nor blunt. The nuns here are not only known for soap, but for their exquisite altar cloths, sewn with thin, sharp needles."

"Good. OW!"

Marian stitched his wound as carefully as she could, trying not to hurt him this time. "Done," she said. "You should sit, or lie down."

"Join me in bed?" he asked. "I know it's early, but..."

He was adorable in his vulnerability, and Marian wanted to cover him in kisses, and love and comfort him. "Have you eaten?" she asked instead.

"Not hungry. Please, Marian. I just want to hold you."

Marian removed all but her chemise and joined him in bed. She kissed him and found she could not stop, but kissed him again and again on his face, neck, shoulders, and chest, trying to kiss away his unhappiness.

He responded, no longer just being content with an embrace.

They made love fervently but gently, due to his wound and her condition, and afterwards, lying in one another's arms while looking out the window at the stars, Robin opened his heart and conscience to her, confessing all that had happened in King Richard's camp.

"You are a good man, Robin," Marian reminded him. "You did right today."

"It wasn't my battle, Marian."

"No, but it was your king who was attacked. I'm proud of you, but I'm so thankful you were only wounded!"

She lifted her head from his shoulder and looked deeply into his eyes. "The memory will fade. Give it time, Robin, and do not accuse yourself unjustly. Think of the lives you saved."

"That's what Richard said. Not in those words, but he awarded me a medal I don't deserve, claiming I saved many lives today."

"You see! And you do deserve it! The king does not give out honors freely. Focus on those you saved, not on the men who died. They attacked our king. You defended him, and his army, bravely."

"War is..."

"I'm glad you hate it. With any luck, it won't touch us ever again."

She placed her head back on his shoulder. "I love you, Robin of Locksley."

"And I love you. I'm afraid we'll need to delay our journey south a few days, if you don't object."

"I'm glad," Marian told him. "This is a wonderful place for all of us to rest, before being closed up and jostled in that dreadful coach again."

"Well then," Robin decided, smiling as he kissed the top of her head, "it sounds like a plan."

Outside in the darkness, Guy of Gisbourne stood staring at the grey stone walls of the convent. "So," he thought, eagerly. "You have brought Marian with you, or you wouldn't be admitted into the guest rooms of a convent."

Now, he had to come up with a plan of his own, to somehow kill Hood and abduct Marian, the woman he believed he loved.