Thank you for your kind reviews! I couldn't wait. Here is part 6!
Much felt heat all over his body, and beneath his eye-lids, his mind worked to remember where he was. Feeling the sweat rolling down the crevices of his face, he could only imagine that he was in the one place where the heat destroyed the other senses. He was in the Holy Land. And if he was in the Holy Land, then Robin should be near-by. But as much as he strained, Much could not hear the familar sounds of his master's breathing. He opened his eyes, surprised at how the dim flickering light hurt. A face swam above him, dark eyes, dusk- colored skin.
He gave a cry of fear.
"Saracen!" He screamed and he struggled to get up-right, the stone rolling off his chest and hitting the earth beside him with a dull thump. Eyes wild, Much swung at Djaq but she saw it coming and evaded his blow.
"Much! Much, it is me!" Djaq said, but knew that the glaze over Much's eyes indicated that it would probably take more than that for him to recognize her.
"Master! Where are you?" Much lunged at Djaq, and fell flat with an ungraceful ooof! "What have you done to me?" He railed at her, and there was a twinge of tearful fear in his voice, "And what have you done with my master?"
"Nothing. Much, please," Djaq reached to help him up and he unexpectedly grabbed her arm and yanked her to the floor. He put his other hand about her throat. Djaq gasped under his strength, which was surprisingly considerable.
"You killed him," he sputtered, and now tears were falling freely. "He was sick with fever, and weak, and you killed him!"
He started coughing then and his grip loosened. Djaq took the opportunity and rolled away from him. She jerked when she felt another hand on her, and looked up to see Robin concernedly bent over her.
"Djaq, are you hurt?"
"No," she said, rubbing her neck. She turned to see Much sitting with his face in his hands, weeping. Robin followed her gaze and his eye-brows knitted together.
"Much would never intentionally--"
"I know," Djaq cut him off. "He is not himself. His fever is higher." She looked up at Robin. "He believes he is still in the Holy Land."
Robin face went carefully neutral and he gave a single nod, but he moved toward his friend with a quickness that Djaq could easily read.
Much sniffled and looked over his fingers. When he saw Robin, his face erupted into a smile of disbelief.
"Master...you're alive!"
"Of course I am, Much," Robin replied, his voice careful and clipped. He knelt and gently pushed Much back towards his pallet by the fire.
"They told me the infection would most certainly kill you," Much continued in awe, patting Robin's arms and shoulders as if reaffirming that his friend was solid and truly there. "Oh, master, I was so afraid that you'd...you'd...." Much's face crumbled now, and he lowered his face in shame.
"Much, stop it," Robin's voice was strained. He did not remember much of his time in the desert, the long fever, the infection. The few lucid moments he recalled found Much sleeping beside his bed, or Much changing his dressings, or Much telling him stories about Locksley. What the physicians had told his former servant during his illness he did not know and did not care to know. For what seemed like the millionth time, he tried to desperately push those memories aside.
"You're safe," Robin said, "I'm safe. We're home."
Before Robin could do anything, Much embraced him and Robin could feel the fever and the tears through his shirt. Robin took a deep breath and wrapped his arms around Much's heaving back. He blinked twice, trying to block the flood of war horrors that threatened to spill into his mind.
"I did not want to die all alone," Much said through his quiet sobbing and Robin realized how terrifying it must have been for Much to wait and watch while Robin suffered, only a hair away from death. I owe you greatly, my friend, Robin thought. I still do.
But he could not say these words aloud, not here. Gently but firmly, he pulled away from Much and pushed his friend down.
"You are not going to die," Robin said, as he picked up the compress from where it had fallen and re-dampened it in the bowl. "But you would do well to allow Djaq to preform her ministrations."
"We are home?" His own disbelief and his trust in Robin battled in his blue eyes. "Then... why is it so hot?"
"It isn't hot, Much. You are feeling hot because you are sick. Djaq was trying to help you and..."
Much's eyes widened suddenly,
"Djaq!"
He caught sight of her sitting several feet away and reached out to her, "Djaq, I wouldn't...I...I didn't hurt you, did I?"
Djaq saw the fresh tears forming in her friend's eyes and snorted dramatically.
"Please," she said, "It took all my power not to hurt you. You are lucky you managed to escape."
Showing that she had forgiven him, she came forward and accepted his hand briefly in her own.
"It was time that Robin took over, anyway," she said and yawned. "Now, I will sleep."
She released Much's fingers and as she rose, she spoke quietly in Robin's ear. "If his condition worsens, wake me immediately."
Robin nodded once to her and turned back to his friend. Wringing out the wet cloth, he placed it back over Much's chest. As he drew back his hand, Much took his wrist in his fingers.
"Master," he said, "Thank you."
Robin smiled and squeezed Much's fore-arm in response. In his mind's eye, he saw a flash of hot, dry Acre. Much's expression of horror when he found Robin wounded. Finding his friend asleep beside him when he finally awoke from his fever-dreams.
"It's nothing," Robin said. "Don't think about it."
Much released Robin and closed his eyes, feeling safer knowing Robin was there watching over him.