A/N: OK. Just a quick note. When I use the heading, "Second Day", I mean the second day of Robin's imprisonment, not the second day of the entire story. And sorry for the tardy update, but FF.net refused to allow me to upload any documents last night and the night before.

And thanks to Eh, Man for Beta-ing this chapter for me! 

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SECOND DAY

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I pressed both palms against the wooden door of Whitby Manor's kitchens, where I had been bandaging some stable boy's leg.  He'd wandered into the yard a few hours ago, ranting and delirious with illness. Aedre had recognized him, and since none of the ladies were useful enough to understand healing, I had to bandage his bloody, DISGUSTING leg.

The door swung madly on its hinges as I raced past its pitiful confines. My bare feet pounded against the sloshing wetness that was my home's rolling hills. Dirty water erupted from the numerous puddles I splashed through and stained my already soiled dress. I was able to leave my problems behind for one brief, blissfully moment when I saw him.

"Father! Father!" I screeched. Oh, the sheriff had sent him home! My father was home! His blurred elderly vision adjusted to the darker atmosphere of Whitby and then he smiled, white-gold wisps of hair floating slowly through the air round his head. He knew it was I.

I hurtled down the hill, ready to forget all. And then I trilled a bird call of ecstasy. It was pure habit to do so. But it was Robin's habit. His brothers had called him, "Sparrow's Whelp," because he had a habit of screeching bird calls whenever he was overcome with a sudden glee. I had picked it up from years of running in Sherwood with he and Will. But my ecstasy at the sight of father was crushed by memory.

He noticed my look of despair, but chose not to say anything. "The sheriff has released you, then?" I whispered breathlessly. He laughed. "Love, released me?  I have been in London. Did our lord sheriff not tell you?" 

"But, I was told --"   

"I am so sorry I left you without any notice, but you were visiting your friend and I did not wish to disturb you, since you said she was deathly ill."

Well, that had been a falsehood. I had actually been in Sherwood with Robin, but my poor father would faint if he knew his 'darling offspring' consorted with those 'despicable miscreants.'

"Of course, Father, I understand. But what was so urgent it could not have waited for the morrow?"

"I do not know to this day, dear." So, he had been taken on the road. Despicable sheriff. But, my father's next statement blew my mind. "When our good friend the sheriff told me of this desperate circumstance, he informed me I would need to set out right away if I were to make it in time. I did so, but when I reached the house of Lord Firth, he claimed there was no such pressing matter." He paused, smiling. "But why should the reason matter, dearest? Did not the servants tell you where I had been?"

They had been absent since he left. It had been my ladies and I, and they knew no more of it than I did, as they had been away visiting Norwell Estate and Will's obnoxious brother. The insufferable sibling was one of the reasons I had chosen to escape to Sherwood. But I could not worry my father. Not in his old age. I would not erase that peaceful, serene smile for the world. 

"Of course. Silly me. I only forgot for a moment in my ecstasy."    

It had not been the lord of Whitby detained in Nottingham Castle. It was the servants. And everything – every tear and every scream - had been for nothing. Robin. My heart lurched. I saw my sword and his bleeding face and every bruised part of him running in my mind's eye. All for naught. I felt a hot rage coursing through my veins. I had a horrible temper, and was angry for the major part of every day, but this was a new type of rage. This was rage for an injustice, and for someone else's suffering. No one had dared trick me before. I was not used to this. And I was not accustomed to feeling angry because of a wrong committed against someone besides myself. But now I was angry. I was livid. And someone was going to pay for it.

Pay for it in blood. 

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Robin rested his head miserably against the wall. It was rough against his scarred face and callous to his need for consolation. He whimpered slightly, because he knew that the guards who had just finished beating him would find that amusing, and hopefully leave him alone. As expected, they burst into laughter, pointing at him with their hard fingers.  

The taller one kicked him viciously in the side. "Pathetic," he sneered, and Robin released a low, plaintive wail, praying it would appease their sadistic need for his pain. His body couldn't take much more of their torture. The shorter, but more brutal, guard paused, staring down at Robin's huddled form, wondering if it was worth the trouble of raising his hand to continue thrashing him. "Eh, we'll leave him for now. This place smells like dung," he muttered, aiming another disdainful kick at Robin's stomach.

Tall One smiled. "After all, we'll be down here in a few hours to drag him up for a flogging," he sneered, watching Robin hopefully for a reaction. Robin forced himself to shake, though the sniveling action made his skin crawl with self-disgust. Satisfied, the guards turned to leave. Thank Heaven.

"Wait," Shorter One said, placing a hand on his companion's shoulder. "What?" Tall One snapped. Shorter One sneered down at Robin. "He's only going to be here for three days," he said, stepping towards his victim. "We might as well make it as unpleasant as possible." He grabbed Robin's collar. "Would you like that, outlaw?" he jeered, grinning at what he thought was his own humor.  Robin shook his head fervently, and his vision spun violently. The guards' faces blurred into one sniping picture, and he staggered backwards. Short One dropped him, and he collapsed onto the ground, gasping.  

"Damn," Taller One whined, "Why are they doing that?" Shorter One nudged Robin with his boot. "Prince John's coming to see this troublemaker hung," he replied, "in three days. We got the message last night. And if I was the sheriff I sure wouldn't want to keep HIM waiting, not with his temper." 

He leered down at Robin.  "Hear that, lackwit? You've got royalty coming to see you." Robin didn't respond, so the guard kicked him in the head. Robin yelped and threw both arms over his skull, nodding frantically. Happy now? But inside, there was hope growing. Three days! That was it.

"Eh, my arm hurts," Taller One grumbled. Robin glowered at him. No wonder, he thought, you've punched me so many times I was sure it was going to fall off. How unfortunate that it's still there. "Let's leave him alone for now," Taller One continued, rubbing his shoulder. Shorter One stared at Robin. Robin could tell he wanted to go on pounding him until he was senseless. Actually, senselessness seemed like a nice option right then. You couldn't feel your bruises forming when you weren't awake. "You make one damned sound," Shorter One barked, snapping him out of his reverie, "and I'll come down and beat you bloody."

Again, Robin added silently. Aloud, however, he said nothing, only nodding with the obedience that pleased Nottingham's guards so much. By God, his body ached. And it was only the first watch. That was why Robin called them Shorter and Taller One, because they were the first watch. Fat and Fatter Two, who could literally throw Robin across the room, were the second watch. They were followed by Sadistic Coward and Sadistic Drunkard Three, the worst pair, who could find any and every excuse to beat you until you screamed for pity. Lastly came the only guards who showed any sympathy, Sickly and Domineering Four, who loathed the beatings even more than Robin, regularly giving it up after less than five minutes.

Taller One and Shorter One left. Robin sighed and leaned quietly against the wall. It still lacked comfort. But that didn't really matter anymore. He grinned foolishly to himself. It did not matter how they beat him! They could flog him until he pleaded for mercy! It did not matter! Three days and it was over! He was free!

Gossiping guards. He had heard about Prince John's coming arrival. Did they think he was too badly beaten to hear them? Idiots. He could last three days without problem.  Actually, he realized merrily, two days, since the message had come the night before. Will would be safe, and that would keep the others out of harm's way, which would keep the peasants of Nottingham protected. He almost hugged himself in ecstasy, but it would have been too painful. Instead, he threw back his head and emitted his happiest, loudest bird call. "Shut your mouth down there!" one of the guards above him snapped. Robin wisely decided to rejoice quietly instead. They were all safe– all of them. He would never tell where Will was. Never tell where camp was. Even if he were to swing.

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A/N: So, we finally meet Marian's father, and another plot twist. En't I wicked?

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