Little John found Much soaking blissfully in a bath in Bonchurch Lodge, but had broken his bliss with the woeful tale of Marian, Ellen, and Grace's murders. As soon as Much was able to comprehend the terrible news, he knew exactly what he must do.

"I must go to Robin," he told Eve, his round blue eyes nearly popping from his face in his distress.

But now that he stood outside the door to Robin's bedchamber, knowing what lay on the other side, Much hesitated. He didn't want to go in there. He didn't want to see the dead bodies, or Robin either in the fragile state of mind he knew his friend to be in. Every impulse was urging him to run, but he summoned every bit of strength and willpower he had, and opened the door.

The stickly sweet smell of death assaulted his nostrils, and he pulled the door shut again, breathing heavily.

Closing his eyes, Much prayed, "Please, Lord, please! Give me strength to help him!"

With a deep breath and a pounding heart, he reopened the door.

Three bodies lay on the bed...no, there were four. Much grimaced when his eyes made out the sight of Robin lying on the bed, holding the lifeless body of his wife in his arms, trying to will life back into her.

Much tried not to look at the dead bodies. Djaq had prepared them for burial, cleaning up the blood as well as possible, but they did not resemble themselves at all. Bloating had set in, and Much knew he had to help Robin return to a right state of mind so his family could be buried. Little John, Will, and Allan were outside on the hilltop graveyard of Robin's ancestors this very moment, digging the graves.

At least Much was spared that task. It was he who had dug Marian's grave in Acre so many years before...the only thing he had been able to do to help Robin at that dreadful time. Yet Marian had not truly been dead! Just as she had done the year before, she had somehow cheated death, and returned to them!

On two previous occasions, Gisbourne had stabbed Marian, and she had died and returned from death. No wonder Robin refused to believe she was gone. But Much would have to make him believe. One look at her corpse was enough to convince Much that Marian would never return. As the saying went, "Three's the charm," and Gisbourne's third attempt had truly killed her.

"I hate sayings," Much muttered silently.

Gingerly, he placed a hand on Robin's shoulder. "Robin," he ventured quietly, "it's Much. I'm here."

"Go." It was a command, not to be challenged.

Much squeezed his friend's shoulder. "Robin, Marian wouldn't want you to do this. You need to take care of your family. You need to bury them."

In a furious instant, Robin was up and had pushed Much backwards against a wall. His hands gripped his friend's throat in a stranglehold.

"How do you know what Marian wants eh? How can you be sure?"

Much couldn't answer. He couldn't even breathe. His voice came out in choking, garbled sounds, as he fought desperately for air.

Much looked into the wild eyes of his best friend...the friend who was nearly killing him. He prayed Robin would release him so that there wouldn't have to be four burials tonight.

Robin's soul was spun into a void of bloodied rage, his reason totally gone. He looked at Much through red rimmed narrowed eyes, keen and hard and murderous.

"How do you know?" he repeated, his voice cold as steel.

And then, as suddenly as it had begun, his rage eased, and he released Much and sank to the floor. He sat huddled in a tight ball, arms crossed over his raised knees, his head down, his eyes open and unblinking.

When Much could breathe again, he dropped to his knees beside Robin and simply sat beside him quietly, waiting.

After what felt like an eternity, Much repeated gently, "Robin, your family needs you. They need to be buried. Can you do this for them?"

"Now?" Robin's question came out as a small, frightened gulp.

"Right now. Djaq has brought Father Gregory. Everything is ready." He paused, wiping at tears which had suddenly filled his eyes. "Are you?"

"Let me first say..." Robin's hollow voice trailed off. He couldn't say the word "goodbye."

He rose and returned to stand by the bed. Those weren't his girls lying there. No. Not his lively impulsive Grace. Not his preciously sweet Ellen. And that wasn't Marian. Not any longer.

"Much?" he cried in a helpless voice.

Much rose and ran to his side.

"Help me," Robin begged.