The Consequence of Loyalty

By Cynthia Burnett

Chapter 7

Locksley Village

The sunlight filtered through the trees of the forest on the outskirts of the village as Robin paced the perimeter of the clearing, replaying the earlier eventsin his mind. Experience in the Holy Land taught him that while his aim may be true, the movement of others in the line of fire created chaos that could turn a well-placed arrow into one of his own men. His desperation to save Much could not override the value of the innocent lives of his servants as the guards began using them as shields between the village and the manor.

Watching from the distance, Robin had felt helpless when Much managed to escape the manor, only to run into Gisborne just outside the door. Robin clenched his fist, remembering the weight of Gisborne's sword back in the Holy Land. When he saw Much go down, Robin felt a phantom pain shoot through the wound on his side. It took all of his men to keep him from charging through the guards and servants. The final stab to his heart came when Gisborne ordered one of his men to fetch a physician.

The soft voice of Djaq brought Robin back to the present. "Robin, one of the servants from the manor brought this for you."

Robin glanced up to see Djaq holding a folded parchment in her hand. Opening it, he recognized Thornton's ornate handwriting. 'I will do what I can for Much. Wound is a cut in his right side but under control. Sheriff has ordered Much brought to the castle in two weeks to serve a state dinner.' After reading the note, Robin folded it and placed it in a pocket of his jacket.

"What does it say?" asked Djaq.

Robin gazed off into the distance. A man of action, he found it difficult to be unable to control the events inside the manor. His words on the hill over Locksley the day before Marian's wedding kept repeating in his head. As Robin replayed Much's hurt expression over and over, he knew that he would never forgive himself if he did not get the chance to express his regret for speaking those hurtful words to such a loyal and kind friend. At the same time, he imagined the pain his friend was going through, wounded and trapped all alone in the manor without friends there to help him.

He released the breath he did not realize he was holding before speaking. Dwelling on the past and things he held no control over would not free Much. "Thornton says he will do what he can to help Much." Robin placed a hand on Djaq's shoulder. "We need to change our focus. The Sheriff is going to have a state dinner in two weeks, and to taunt me wants Much to serve him and his guests. I want to know who is going to be attending and what the Sheriff is planning for this event. If…" Robin stopped himself before continuing, "When Much is better, the Sheriff wants him brought to the castle."

Djaq shook her head and questioned, "Two weeks?"

Robin nodded, "Two weeks. We are going to give Gisborne what he wants. No raids on the taxes, no robbing the nobles, and no excursions into Nottingham." Robin gave her a forced smile. "When we get Much back, Gisborne will be the one who will need protection."

Locksley Manor

As Gisborne entered the guest room, the rising moans from his captive made his back stiffen. Annie sat by the bed carefully cutting the bandages wrapped around Much's waist so the local doctor who had been summoned earlier could examine the wound. Concerned over the strips of cloth soaked with blood, Sir Guy asked, "Is he still bleeding?"

After examining the wound, Sims looked up at his lord and shrugged. "The bleeding has stopped, but it has left him very weak. The closing of the wound appears clean. Your servants are well versed in stitching. I could not have done a better job myself." Much tried to suppress a cry when the physician's rough fingers poked around the tender area. Standing and packing his supplies, he addressed one of the servants. "Annie, wrap the wound loosely and change the bandages once more tonight, and three times tomorrow. Keep it clean. He should not move around too much until it has started mending. I recommend that he stay in bed for at least three days. Keep him comfortable and cool with compresses until his fever breaks."

When Thornton entered the room, Sims handed the steward a small, dark bottle from his worn leather bag. The physician asked the steward, "Do you remember how to administer this?"

Eyeing Much worriedly, Thornton took the bottle, nodding. "It is for the pain, correct?" The steward handed the bottle to Annie, who placed it on the table next to Much's bed before touching his shoulder in silent comfort.

Sims returned a nod and closed his bag. The physician glanced to Gisborne. "We are only in the first hours of the injury. I fear things will get worse for him before he starts feeling better."

Gisborne and Thornton escorted the physician down the stairs. Thornton managed to get ahead of the men to unlock the door, and stood waiting for his master and the physician to exit the manor.

Once outside, Gisborne could not suppresshis concern, "What are his chances?"

Sims shook his head. "I have been treating patients for many years, my lord. Sometimes, the simplest wound will take a man and yet another more grievous will heal in days. The humors play a great role in healing. I can only recommend that you keep his spirits up and give him plenty of care. He is young, which is in his favor."

With a nod, Gisborne dismissed the physician, who attached his bag to his saddle before mounting his horse. Gisborne stared past him as he left the manor yard towards the village. Guy wondered how far the physician would get before Robin's men stopped him. With a crooked smile, he tried to imagine the torment his plans were creating for Robin. Much's injury was unexpected, but not totally unwelcome.

Once inside, he followed Thornton back up to the room where they found Much arguing with Annie.

"Please, I don't want to take any of that." He pleaded as Annie tried to force him to take some of the physician's draft. Much remembered what almost happened to Marian after taking Pips' concoction. He did not want to die in his sleep.

"Granted it tastes terrible, but you will feel better. I've taken this before. I promise, you won't remember the pain," Annie said soothingly as she held out the medicine in a drinking cup.

Turning his head, Much refused the offer. Thornton took the cup from Annie. "Go around to the other side. Help him sit up so that he can swallow better."

"But…" Much tried to protest. After Annie made it to the other side of the bed and placed her arm under his back to raise him off the mattress, a much stronger wave of pain flooded his body. Filled with a new incentive for taking the medicine and with Thornton nearly pouring the contents down his throat, Much had no choice but to swallow. The concoction was true to Annie's word. It tasted horrible, nothing like the flavorful medicine Djaq had made before. Slowly, the pain subsided as a fog settled over his mind. The room grew quieter, and he could no longer feel himself lying in the bed. Within a few moments, Much slipped into a restful sleep.

Thornton placed his hand on Much's forehead, and felt the threat of a fever. With a jerk of his head aimed at the basin, he gestured Annie to take the bloody water out of the room. They would need plenty of clean, cool water to keep the fever manageable.

The steward sighed as he spoke to his master. "I will make sure he is taken care of tonight. He will need to be kept cool during the fever. We have to be careful with the amount of the draft the physician left. It can be dangerous if too much is given too often."

Gisborne nodded as he stood leaning against the door, his arms crossed. He studied the patient thoughtfully. "What do you think, Thornton? Will he survive this wound? You have tended to many injuries over the years."

Thornton forced a smile, remembering the events just a few hours earlier. "He is a stubborn young man. I am not going to give up on him, master."

Sir Guy returned the smile, asking, "Even after this one gave you two black eyes and knocked you out cold?" Gisborne raised his gloved hand, gesturing to Thornton's eyes. "You have to be hurting."

Sheepishly, the steward brought his hand up to his nose. His face ached, and it felt as if his nose were starting to swell. "Well, yes, my lord." Thornton quickly walked past Gisborne to check on Annie's whereabouts.

Gisborne remained in the doorway. He knew that the worse was yet to come. Weakened by the loss of blood, would Much be able to fight a fever? The pain medicine would let the young man get some restful hours before the fever gripped him. Silently, Gisborne cursed him for taking such bold actions. His plan to trap Robin in a web of consequences rested on keeping his loyal servant and friend alive. Letting him die was not an option, no matter how much he had threatened his life before.

As Annie returned with a fresh water basin, Guy left the room. He had to trust that his servants knew what they were doing. They would do everything in their power to keep Robin's friend alive, and he counted on it.

Sherwood Forest

After the gang allowed Sims to return to Nottingham unmolested, Robin quietly withdrew from the men. His hand fell to the scar on his side, as he recalled the agony of his own injury and the countless days of his recovery. Most of that time he had no recollection, yet through it all, any time he had a lucid moment and opened his eyes, Much had been there tending to him.

As night fell, the gang rallied around their leader. They could not leave Robin to face his demons alone. Will approached Robin and sat on a large rock next tohim.

"What was it like in the Holy Land, when you were wounded?" Will surmised that Robin's mind was drifting far away, for he absentmindedly placed his hand to his side with his eyes closed.

Allen and Little John exchanged glances, uncomfortable with the direction their youngest member was leading the conversation. Djac joined Will, sitting next to him on the rock.

The Saracen nodded, "It is never easy when a wound turns septic, for the injured or the caregiver."

Leaving the past behind, Robin glanced up at his friends. "I found out that Much never left my side, even after the others had given up all hope of my recovery." He shook his head. "If Much had not been there, I would not be here today."

Djac tried to reassure Robin. "Sims said the wound had been cleaned, that your servants have done a fine job. Much is strong. He is stubborn. He will not be alone through this. Thornton promised."

Robin let a sad laugh escape. "But I am not with him. I cannot help him through this. Much was injured in some of the battles, but nothing like this." The distraught man pointed to his side. "The pain was unbearable in the beginning. There were moments when I wished I would die just to be free from it."

"Yours was a dagger wound that cut deep. This is a shallow sword cut. Sims asked the servants, and they did not think the wound did anything more than slice through the skin and some flesh. Yes, he lost a lot of blood, but he can recover." Djac looked to Will, Allen, and Little John. "We will be ready when he is well, and they move him to the castle."

Will grimaced as he finally decided to share new information from his secret excursion into Nottingham. "I heard a new rumor about the state dinner. You aren't going to believe who the guest of honor is."

Allen huffed, "Not King Richard again. He isn't going to pull that one twice, is he?"

Will interrupted Allen's ranting. "I wish he was going to try that one again, but I fear this time, the royalty in question is very real. Everyone in Nottingham knows what this man looks like."

Confused, Djac questioned, "Who?"

Robin put the clues together. "Prince John," he stated with a hint of annoyance.

Will nodded, "Prince John came to Nottingham when he transferred the shire over to Vaisey. I heard rumors that he can be even more evil than the Sheriff, if that is at all possible."

The outlaws sat in silence as each pondered Will's statement. Finally, Robin broke the calm. "Our best chance to rescue Much is at the castle, during the dinner. I know that the Sheriff will be expecting us, but with such an important visitor in Nottingham, the pomp and circumstance of the moment will lend itself to our advantage. We will need to infiltrate Prince John's guard."

Allen asked, "Why not just ambush the convoy?"

A twinkle in his eye had Robin thinking. "No, I'm sure Gisborne expects that and Much's life could be in danger. It's the dinner or nothing."

Little John balked at Robin's proposal. "Robin? That is the craziest thing I've ever heard you come up with."

With a serious gaze at Little John, Robin agreed. "Right now, crazy is the only way we are going to be able to rescue Much."

Locksley Estate

This time, the raid on the camp came without warning. Much had been sound asleep when he heard his master yell that the King was under attack. In the moments it took him to grab his sword and jump out of his bed, Robin had left him. With great effort, he searched for Robin but could only see other King's guards fighting with the Saracen raider. He desperately needed to find Robin. Finally, an arrow took down one of the attackers. With a soft voice, Much whispered, "Robin."

Following the cries of dying men, Much ran through the camp until he caught a glimpse of his master. Immediately, he knew something was wrong. With a final sprint, Much finally joined Robin just as his master missed one of the Saracen raider's entering the King's tent. Robin collapsed.

"Master… you're wounded." Much reached down to help Robin up, but his hand quickly found blood. Looking to his hand, he didn't know what to do.

Robin quickly sent Much away to get more help. Despite Much's desire to stay and help, he understood the importance of saving King Richard. After waking the rest of the camp, Much returned to the King's tent. He spied several men just outside of the King's tent carrying a man. At first, he feared that Robin was too late, and the King had been killed. Then the reality of who they were carrying hit him.

Annie continued to bathe Much's forehead as his head tossed back and forth. She could only imagine the horrors Much and Robin had seen in the Holy Land. Several times during his dream, Much mumbled 'Saracen raiders' and 'King Richard'. His thrashing in his sleep grew worse, and when Much began to mumble again, she understood why.

"Master… no. Don't die. Please." As Much's distress grew, so did his movements. Finally, Annie decided to wake him.

"Shhh… Much. It is only a dream. Robin is safe." Carefully, Annie shook the man until he became still and his breathing steadied. As he slowly came around, she continued to talk to him. "You are in Locksley, not the Holy Land. Robin is alive." She did not know if the dream had been a memory or something Much had imagined.

As Much slowly emerged from the nightmare, he realized that he was not back in the Holy Land. Annie sat next to him, and was wiping his face with a cool rag. When he tried to move, a sudden pain shot through his side, and Much immediately went still while crying out in pain. He also remembered why he laid here in a bed, in Gisborne's Locksley manor.

"Shhh… lie still. Your wound is stitched, but it needs time to heal." Annie pulled back his blanket and raised his shirt, revealing the bandage over the wound. It had a pink color over the cut, but Annie seemed relieved by what she saw. "You have not damaged the stitching. Emely will change the bandages at sun-up." Carefully, she lowered his shirt and returned the blankets.

Shivering, Much stated, "It feels like winter in here." His weak voice troubled him as he remembered the many wounded men in Acre.

Annie helped him raise his head to take a few sips of water. With a gentle hand, the servant helped the injured man ease back down on the pillow. Barely audible, Much mumbled, "Thank you."

After a curt nod, Annie adjusted his blanket before tucking him in tightly. "There, now you won't be able to forget about your wound and try to sit up." Returning her attention to the basin of water, she wrung the water out of her rag and once again patted the cool cloth over his face.

Much tried to concentrate on the coolness of the rag and not the fire burning in his side. He nearly managed to drift back off to sleep when an unpleasant voice carried through the room.

"Leave us." Gisborne ordered from the doorway. Much opened his eyes to find Gisborne walking in, his mood hidden by the shadows of the candlelight illuminating the room. Annie frowned and quickly untucked his blankets, allowing her patient movement to pull his arms free. His head spun just from looking around the room, and Much realized his confinement to the bed meant he could not get up, no matter how free he felt without any binding. After returning the wet cloth to the water basin, Annie bowed her head and obediently departed.

Much locked eyes with Gisborne. Embolden from the situation, he refused to remain quiet. His hands instinctively balled into fists, his nails digging into his palms.

"What do you want?" Much asked, again surprised by the weak sound of his voice when he had meant the words to come out with a sharper resonance.

Gisborne closed the door and leaned against the wood. "I need to understand something."

Sarcasm replaced boldness and Much replied, "I can't work miracles," and then turned away, crossing his arms on his chest. He kept his eyes open, trying to will Gisborne to leave him be.

"Why go to the Holy Land with Robin? He seems to value your life. Why would he have taken you with him to a certain death?" Gisborne let the question hang in the air for several minutes, until Much could not handle the silence. Finally, he turned around and found Gisborne still focused on him.

"He did not order me to the Crusade with him. He ordered me to stay here in Nottingham, with Sheriff Edward and Marian. After the accident and his father's death, Robin needed to find himself, and he felt that in King Richard's army, he could discover the man he was truly meant to be." Much glanced away before continuing. "I would not let Robin leave without taking me with him."

Gisborne's brow furrowed. "Why follow your master to the Holy Land? You must have imagined that you could be killed and never return home."

Shaking his head, Much added, "He is my master. He needed me. I made a promise…" Much stopped, afraid that he might reveal too much.

"A promise? To whom?" Gisborne probed.

Regretting his slip of the tongue, Much felt that he could do no harm by telling Gisborne the truth about his trip to the Holy Land.

"I would have gone without making the promise, but… before Lord Robert passed away, he made me promise…" Much felt his emotions rising to the surface as he remembered his last moments with Robin's father. "I promised that I would not let Robin destroy his life after he lost his father. That I would be his voice of reason whenever he decided to engage in the wild and crazy adventure that was his life." Shutting his eyes, Much added, "Lord Robert had no idea that Robin would decide to join the King in the Holy Land, but I'm sure it would not have surprised him."

"But you let him go to the Holy Land?" Gisborne questioned.

Much's face flushed red as Gisborne stirred his anger. "I cannot stop Robin once his mind is made up. I am just glad that I convinced him that he needed me. If I had not been there…" His gaze found Gisborne, "If I had not gone to the Holy Land with Robin, he would have died from the wound you gave him."

Gisborne scoffed, "How did you save him?"

"Everyone had given up on him after the sixth day. The nurses no longer came around to change the bandage. They were not trying to get him to drink any more water. Everyone was ready to just let him die." The memory remained fresh in Much's mind after just waking from the dream of the events leading up to the many sleepless nights worrying that Robin would die and leave him lost in the Holy Land. "I would not give up on him." Much's voice broke, "I could not."

"Useless loyalty for your master?" Gisborne asked with a disgusted tone. His ploy was working. As the servant continued with his story, he grew less guarded with his answers. Guy hoped that Much would let something of value slip.

"Loyalty? What is loyalty but friendship, love and compassion? These are the qualities that drive loyalty, not obedience and servitude." Much gasped for a breath before continuing, "You will never know what it is like to have true loyalty from your subjects. In the Holy Land, Robin protected me, and I protected him. We helped each other. He had the ear of the King on many occasions. When the King returns…" Much finally remembered his audience and left the threat open. "He will return."

Gisborne finally decided to take control of the conversation. "You speak of friendship, but look where this friendship has taken you. You went to a horrific place where your life was on the line everyday. When you returned, your master lost all rights and privileges as a noble, and you end up living like a wild man in the forest of Sherwood. Every day is threatened with death from a sword or a hanging. How is that friendship?"

Frustrated, Much tensed and regretted it. The pain shot through him, and he tried to keep his composure controlled, but a few tears escaped him. Finally, Much continued the argument. "If I had not stopped him, Robin would have killed you in the forest."

"Do you regret not letting him? You would not be here if you had let Robin take his revenge that day." Gisborne remembered thinking several times that Robin had lost it and that he was dead, but the gang and Much had held Robin's hands at bay. Once again, Gisborne felt that principles held no value in the grand scheme of things.

Focusing through the fog of his mind, Much tried to remember the wisdom he had gained in his travels with Robin. Tired of the effort of sparring verbally with Gisborne, he decided to answer him with one of the sayings Robin had learned in the Holy Land. "Each of us has a purpose in life. I have to trust that yours is not to always cause pain and suffering throughout the shire." After making the statement, Much fought another spasm as it coursed through him. In his mind, he hoped that Gisborne's purpose in life was not to be the cause of his death.

Seeing that he was not going to get any further with this round of questioning, Guy stepped away from the door before reaching to open it. "You just lay there and rest. I'll return when you are completely lost in fever. Then you will be ready to talk."

As he exited the room, Much struggled to ask, "What does that mean?"

Annie scurried back to the room. Much tried to rise, but she forcefully rested her hand on his shoulder, keeping him pinned down. "The master has upset you. You need to relax."

"But… what did he mean?" The burning in his side increased ten fold as his body responded to the stress of Gisborne's promise.

"Calm down." The servant wrung out a new cloth and bathed Much's forehead, which had a soothing effect on Much as he closed his eyes.

After a few minutes of silence, Much opened his eyes, and once again pleaded with her. "Annie, what is Gisborne planning?"

Uncomfortable with the question, but wanting to answer the young man, Annie stole a quick glance at the door. One of the guards stood outside the room. She hoped he was one who did not truly have loyal ties to Gisborne, or if he did, he would not hear her whisper.

"Gisborne hopes to talk to you when you can't tell the difference between a dream and reality. When you are lost in a delusion, we have orders to fetch him."

"I could… I might…" Much knew that his own mind could conspire against him. "I wouldn't…" Wanting to escape any chance that he could betray his friends and Robin, Much pleaded with Annie. "Please, if I am lost in a fever, don't tell Gisborne."

With a sharp glance to the door, she added, "We are all bound to our new master, Much. You will do well to remember that." With careful hands, the young woman picked up the physician's medicine, measuring out a specific amount and added it to a cup of water.

Much shook he head, "No, I don't want to drink anymore, Annie. Please?"

Annie held up the cup. "You can either drink this now, or I will wake Thornton. I'm sure he wants to get out of bed to force you to take your medicine after what your near escape has put us all through. Many of the servants are forced to sleep out in the village, and we do not know if Lord Gisborne will let them back in the manor tomorrow or not. Poor Thornton, his face is black and blue from where you hit him earlier."

Much felt all of his energy drain away as he listened to the woman. He had been so concerned about saving himself that he had not thought about anyone else in the manor. Annie brought to light the day's events, while dangerous for him, they were also trying for the other servants in the house, especial Thornton.

Seeing the man deflate, Annie regretted her rant on the poor man. "I'm sorry, Much." With a very soft voice and a smile, she added, "We all prayed that you would escape." With those words said, Much returned her gaze with a small sparkle in his eyes. The light immediately went out when she held up the cup. "I promise, if you don't sleep through the night after taking this, I won't make you drink another."

Much, resigned to his fate, nodded and allowed Annie to raise his head. With great effort, he swallowed the contents of the cup, which tasted just as foul as the first batch. Like before, the pain eased, the sounds faded and the room vanished. This time when sleep claimed him, it pulled him into a web of memories and nightmares.