Shoving the empty water pail against Robin's chest, Marian said, "If you really think so little of me, Robin of Locksley, that you send me on a child's errand to get me out of the way, then there's no need for me to be here. Don't worry. I won't hamper Robin Hood any longer by my presence. You won't have to think up any more schemes to exclude me from your precious outlaw plans."

"Marian!" Robin watched, exasperated, as Marian grabbed her bow and quiver, then unsheathed her dagger to examine it before sheathing it again, in preparation for leaving.

Quicker than lightening, Robin pulled the lever that opened and closed his camp, shutting everyone inside.

"Let go of the lever," Marian seethed, through clenched teeth. When he didn't, she began slapping his hand that held it, again and again.

"Marian," Robin commanded, "you need to calm down."

"Don't tell me what to do."

Four outlaws held their breaths...four pairs of outlaw eyes watched anxiously.

"You're not my leader," Marian continued, her voice filled with quiet rage. "I'm not a member of your gang. You can't order me what to feel or how to feel it."

"Very well then, Marian," Robin said, releasing the lever. A blast of cold, wet air blew in as the camp opened. "I do not hold you prisoner, as Guy of Gisbourne did. You're free to go. Just don't expect any sympathy from me when you come crawling back, once the sun goes down."

"I'd rather fall off a ledge than stay with you."

"Really?"

"Really."

"Fine then."

"Fine."

"Go. You said you were going. So go."

"I am going. Goodbye."

She ran a few steps, then stopped and said, without turning back to face him, "Better to be cold, hungry, and alone in the forest, than to stay here in the company of a fool."

"Who's the fool, running out in the rain, with darkness closing in?"

"Master!" Much had heard enough, wanting to end Robin's anger.

"Ha!" Robin shouted, pulling the lever and shutting the outlaw camp, satisfied at having the last word.

"Where is she going?" Much worried.

Robin shrugged, as if he didn't care. But then, his anger dying as quickly as it had begun, he said, "John. Give her a moment, then go after her."

He knew she needed a father figure, one who would listen rather than talk.

"Robin," Will said, in his quiet monotone, "are we still going to Nottingham?"

Robin shook his head. Letting out an exasperated sigh, he answered, "No. Not today."

"I'll start supper," Much said, wanting everything to be calm, normal, and pleasant again. Then, worry overcoming him, he blurted out, "What if John can't find her? What if she does fall off a ledge, or get eaten by wolves?"

"There are no wolves here," Djaq replied, knowing the best way to distract him. "If there were, you could hunt one and cook it for supper."

"Eat wolf? That is revolting!"

"No more than squirrel."

"It's chicken!"

...

Little John had no difficulty finding Marian, who had not thought to hide her tracks. He found her in a grove of trees, hurling her dagger at a notch she had carved in a tree trunk, hitting her mark with a vengeance.

"He sent you to babysit me?" she asked.

Little John grunted.

"Why does he exclude me?" she asked, her voice almost a sob. "I thought we'd be a team."

"He feels too much. For you."

"He has an odd way of showing it." She began to tremble. John took off his coat and placed it around her shoulders.

"He treats me like a child. Like a little sister."

Marian pulled her dagger from the tree and sheathed it, her anger replaced by sorrow.

Is it any wonder? she thought. Look at me. I'm dirty, I'm dressed like a man, I'm miserable all the time, I snap when I should be patient...

"He doesn't love me any more," she spoke aloud, without meaning to. "Not the way he used to."

"More," John told her. "You, he loves more. All the time."

"No. He thinks me a child, and an ugly, shrewish one at that. A year ago, Little John, I was always telling him to grow up. Robin may not say the words, but that's what he thinks I should do. Do you remember when I was almost dying in the cave? He told me then he had never lied to me. What was it today, if not a lie, when he sent me for water when there was no need other than to get me out of the way?"

John grunted in sympathy.

"I can't go back. Don't follow me."

Shaking off John's coat, Marian picked up her bow and dashed away before Little John could stop her.

This, Robin would not like. But knowing she was so much faster than he, Little John trudged homeward back to camp.

...

Knowing she had successfully escaped, Marian stopped to catch her breath. Where would she go?

Initially, she'd thought of spending the night in the cave. But now, a better plan occurred to her.

"I'll go to Nottingham," she vowed. "I'll prove to Robin I can be useful."

His romantic love for her may have died, she believed, her heart breaking at the thought, but she could still salvage his respect. And her own.