"Master! I can't run anymore."
Robin stopped, letting Much catch his breath. "Meet me back at the camp," he decided.
"And let you go on alone? Oh, no. I'm sorry, Robin, but I have to disobey."
"But camp's where I'm heading. I can't explain, but I think Marian's there. I feel it. It feels like she's drawing me to her."
"That's...weird. But if we're both going home, why can't we go together?"
"Because, Much, I'm not tired. I need to go now. Soldier's run for you. Do you remember?"
"Like we did in the Holy Land? Walk twenty steps, run twenty steps. How could I forget?"
"Right then. I'll see you back at camp."
"But what if Marian's not there?"
"She'll be there."
…
She was.
No one else was back yet. The camp was open, and Marian lay sprawled on her bunk, shivering, and asleep.
Robin shut the camp and took the blanket from his bunk. He didn't want to wake Marian by trying to pull her blanket out from under her. His heart pounded with warmth, relief, and something even sweeter as he gently placed his blanket over her.
Her face was dirty, with black smudges and tear stains.
"Marian," Robin sighed, his heart aching along with hers.
She stirred, and opened her eyes. "Robin," she said, sadly.
"It's good to have you back," he told her softly, smiling.
He was surprised that she smelled of ale. She must have taken some from Little John's flask.
"Make it stop," Marian begged, closing her eyes.
Thinking she meant her heartache, which she partially did, Robin told her, "It will go away, eventually. You'll remember the good times with your father, and the pain will stop."
Marian gave a small sob, but then groaned. "The room is spinning. I feel sick."
Quickly, Robin wetted a cloth with water and placed it on her forehead. "Look at me, Marian. Focus on my face. Is that better?"
Surprisingly, it was.
"Thank you," she murmured.
He took hold of her hand and gently stroked it.
His touch felt good, so very, very good. "I drank too much," she admitted, ashamed. "I didn't even like it, but I drank like a man who's lost all control."
"Maybe you just needed to forget for a few hours."
She nodded her head, then was sorry she did, when the room spun around again.
"Look at me," Robin gently reminded her. She did, and felt better.
She was moved. He hadn't reproached her. He'd understood, before she had. That was the real reason for her drunkenness. She had wanted to drown her pain.
Even so, she was reminded of the other pain...learning about Robin and that tavern slut. She couldn't accept it, as Allan had told her to do. Men! Robin was so honorable...so wonderful...and that woman was...!
He began speaking again, in that rich, golden voice she loved. "I never told you, but when I was in the Holy Land, about three years in, I heard you were married."
"Married?"
"Yes. I thought I'd lost you, so I got drunk. I did some stupid things I'm not proud of-"
"What things?"
"I don't want to say." He didn't want her to know how LeGrande had taken him to a brothel, where he'd willingly and desperately lost his virginity. "I will tell you one thing, though. I shouted your name in the street, waking the city, mistaking Acre for Knighton, and begged you not to marry...to wait for me."
"I must have heard you."
He grinned adoringly at her. "You must have."
She smiled shyly back at him, love swelling in her heart.
"Love never dies, Marian," he said meaningfully. "Keep loving your father. He loves you still, even when you can't be together."
Her eyes welled with tears. "Robin, I-"
The camp sprung open, and Much, together with all the gang, entered.
All were glad to see Marian, and Much said, "See what I told you? I knew she'd be back!"
"Give us a moment," Robin told the others.
Much opened his mouth to object, and Robin said, "Just one minute more."
The gang stepped away, and Robin told Marian, "You'll probably wake in the morning feeling rotten. It'll help to stay outdoors, if the weather's fine. If you'd like, we could explore the forest together. Would you like that, Marian?"
"I would love it."
