With a loud clank of metal, the Tower's cell door slammed shut, locking Guy, Marian, and Robin together in a single cold, damp stone chamber. The only light came from a long slit cut through the stone, narrow enough to permit an arrow to exit, but very little else.
A single cot comprised the only furnishing, and Guy, exhausted from his unexpected defeat, threw himself face down upon it.
Marian glanced disgustedly at him, having heard him boast he had shot the arrow that had killed the king. At this moment, she felt herself the strongest of the three captives, for Robin, too, grieving the king's death, seemed as defeated as Guy.
Marian turned to her husband, who'd seemed drained of his courage and his life spark all the way to the Tower.
"Robin," she said softly.
She saw his mouth twist...his stricken eyes grow moist.
"I can't believe he's dead," Robin said helplessly.
Marian gasped, sorry for the man she loved. She recalled the many times he had comforted her, holding her in his arms and letting her cry, lending her his strength when hers failed. In minor matters that had seemed momentous at the time, and in crushing times, such as the death of her father, Robin had been her comfort and her strength. It was her turn now to be his. Her heart grieved for his grief but swelled with love for him, as she clasped him in her arms.
Guy turned his head and watched them, jealous fury burning within him.
Robin drew strength from Marian's love, as she hoped he would. "There will be time later to grieve," he said, recovering. "Right now, we need to think of a way out of here."
Gisbourne, despite his hatred for Locksley, felt a glimmer of hope. He knew of no one better who could engineer an impossible escape. "What do you suggest?" he asked, sitting up on the cot.
Robin strode toward him and kicked the straw mattress from underneath the bed, making Guy jump. "I suggest, Gisbourne, you get up. Marian gets the bed, not you."
Sneering viciously, Guy lay back down.
"It's alright, Robin." Marian's voice sounded cold and proud. "He doesn't have to 'play the gallant gentleman' any more, as you used to call it, now that he knows I'll never be his."
"And what kind of gallant gentleman was he," Guy furiously demanded, sitting up again, "making you play the spy and risk your neck to help him?"
"I only asked her once," Robin insisted, his anger rising to match Guy's, "when all those killings were happening, and the sheriff blamed me."
"I wanted to help him," Marian boasted. "We were a team, trying to defeat the sheriff."
Guy flung himself to his feet to bitterly confront the woman he both loved and hated. "By pretending to be my friend," he shouted, "all the while lying to me...betraying me!"
"It was more than you deserved," Marian told him, bravely. "You shot the arrow that killed the king."
Guy and Robin were equally surprised by her statement...Guy, because he had not meant for her to know, and Robin, because he believed the youth Pierre had fired the fatal shot.
"You're wrong, Marian," Robin said gently, his sorrow returning. "I was there. It was a boy, fifteen years old, hunting for his family's dinner."
"With Isabella's poisoned arrow?" Marian asked.
Robin's eyes widened in surprise, then narrowed with hatred as he faced Gisbourne. "You," he said savagely. "You killed the king, and tried to make an innocent boy take the blame."
Guy was torn between gloating triumphantly over what he had done, or lying to hide the truth, to protect himself from Hood's anger. He quickly decided on the latter course, since he needed Hood to help him escape. Not only that, but he knew his chances to have Marian would be forever finished, if she believed he had succeeded in killing the king. No matter how bleak things looked between them, his heart refused to give up hope she would one day be his.
"I did not kill him," Guy insisted.
"I heard you say you did," Marian accused.
"To win favor from Prince John," Guy shouted back at her. "I was a fugitive! I heard the king died of blood poisoning from an arrow wound, and I meant to take credit for shooting him, to earn a pardon and win back power and position!"
"You didn't shoot him?" Marian asked.
"I wasn't anywhere near the king."
Guy felt almost glorious, seeing how Marian still wanted to believe he was redeemable. "You do care for me," he told her in his mind. "There is still something between us, even with Hood's seed growing within you."
Robin continued to watch him narrowly, unconvinced by his story. He did not know why Pierre would have taken credit for the shot that ultimately killed the king, claiming it an accident, but he was convinced the boy would not have shot an poisoned arrow, nor been in league with Isabella.
But there wasn't time to question what had really happened. Robin turned his gaze from Gisbourne, letting his eyes scan the entire prison chamber to try to think of a way to escape. "We need to get out of here," he repeated.
"I have an idea to help us escape," Marian told him. "Do you have a plan?"
"What's yours?" Robin asked.
"I could pretend I'm going into labor, early," Marian suggested. "You could ask a physician be sent here, and then, when he arrives, overpower him and trade your clothing for his, so you can walk out of here."
"And leave you here alone...with him?" Robin asked, indicating Gisbourne. "Not a chance."
"We wouldn't be alone," Marian insisted, wanting to save Robin at all costs. "The physician would be with us, until the guards realize what happened. By that time, you could enlist Queen Eleanor's help, to free me."
"If the queen could help, she would have already done it," Robin reminded her. "But your plan isn't without merit, my love. Instead of a physician, we could ask for a midwife."
"A physician!" Guy demanded, planning to exchange his own clothing for the man's to escape.
"I'm not leaving here without you, Robin!" Marian told him.
"You won't have to," Robin said. "Here's the plan, unless one of us thinks of something better. You, Marian, feign illness. I ask for a midwife, and when she comes, we overpower her and take her dress."
"So much for being a 'gallant gentleman,' " Guy sneered.
"We won't hurt her, Gisbourne," Robin told him, impatiently. "Next, after a suitable amount of time and Marian's disguised, we'll ask the guards to let the 'midwife' out, and you and I, Gisbourne, will charge them, knock them out and take their keys and their uniforms. Are you with me?"
"Is that the best you can come up with, Hood?" Guy snarled. "What happened to your clever, fail proof schemes you used in Nottingham?"
"They weren't always clever, and were never fail proof," Robin told him. "But they worked. This will too, I think. Trust me, Gisbourne."
"Trust you?"
"Or don't. Stay here if you like, to finally face the comeuppance you deserve. But make no mistake. My wife and I are going to escape."
"Why invite me along? We're enemies, Hood. I'd kill you this instant, if they hadn't taken my sword."
"We're still enemies. You hurt my people, and my family. You tried to kill the king before, even if you didn't do it this time. But it'll be easier to knock out the guards, if there's two of us," Robin explained.
"There are two of us," Marian reminded him.
"Three then," Robin replied.
The lock in the door jangled as Robin was speaking, and the door opened, then immediately clanked shut again.
"Four," a familiar voice said, "if that's what comes after three. I never did learn to count."
Much stepped into the small ray of light shining through the arrow slit cut in the stone wall. "Is the king really...is he really...dead?" Much asked, causing Robin's eyes to brim over again with tears, just before Much stepped to him and the two men clasped one another in a sorrowful, brotherly embrace.