A/N: Thanks to Emmithar for her beta as usual! :)

Chapter 11: Mending

Much didn't mind riding out of Nottingham after all. At least he was able to keep an eye on Robin this way. He knew the man and could not be sure that he would not decide to get himself into trouble again before they even made it back to camp.

He kept an arm pressed to his side, hoping it would stop bleeding already. He didn't like it at all. He hadn't liked it a single time when he had been injured back in the Holy Land. It had never been as bad as when Robin had been stabbed and had nearly died, but it had been hurting bad enough and had reminded him every time that there was blood running in him too that could as easily be spilled as the blood of the men they were fighting against. He had often wondered if Robin was aware of that as well. He tended to act as if no one could hurt him. Much would harm him one day very badly, if he was not going to stop acting like that.

While their horses were racing along, Much turned to look back at the town to see if the other outlaws were coming out as well. He couldn't make any of them out and hoped they would make it. He didn't need another rescue attempt any time soon. He was worried.

He turned to look at Robin, but the man hadn't said a word since they had left Nottingham behind them. But then Much had to admit that riding at high speed wasn't the best situation for talking. He was glad when they made it to the edge of the forest and still no guards seemed to be following them. Robin slowed his horse and Much followed his example, watching the man concernedly for any sign of being unwell. He surely was unwell, after everything that had happened. Robin stopped his horse then, and slid off it carefully.

"Are you alright?" Much asked, dismounting as well, a movement that caused yet more pain in his wound. "What happened? What did the sheriff do to you?"

Robin didn't answer, but made the few steps over to his friend. "Let me look at your wound."

Much lifted his arm, looking down at his own side. The cut looked ugly, though he guessed it was bleeding less now than before. He didn't feel like he was dying from it, which was probably a good thing.

"It's not deep," Robin stated. "But we need to have it cleaned and bandaged."

"We can do that when we are back at camp," Much insisted. "I don't want you being caught again by anyone who's following us. And I'm sure they are!"

"I don't fancy it much either," Robin agreed with a small smile. Much was glad to see it, wondering once again what had happened to the man. He had been bound to that post when they had been led out of the dungeons, but surely he couldn't have been there the whole time since he had been taken away. Much swallowed. Who knew what the sheriff had done?

"What happened?" he asked quietly.

Robin avoided his gaze, looking at the wound again although Much was sure he could not do anything about right here and now.

"You weren't out there the whole time, were you?" Much voiced what he feared to be the truth. Robin still didn't answer. "You have to be hungry!" his friend realized. "And tired!"

Robin moved to get back on his horse and Much could see the weariness in every step of his.

"We're going back to camp, right?" he questioned.

"We have to make sure the others made it out alright," Robin decided.

Much couldn't believe it. He would agree to wait some time behind the line of trees to see if the others managed to flee Nottingham, but going back had to be totally out of question. Robin looked as if he was to fall off his horse any moment, but was talking about riding back. "But surely not!" Much argued. "They gave us the horses so we could get away, to save you! You can't go back and... and get into trouble again!"

Robin nodded quietly and Much was stumped, for he had expected his former master to argue more. So they waited at the edge of the forest, as Much had wanted, but he couldn't quite believe that Robin was actually doing what he had told him. It was worrisome for sure, and Much was almost about to say something about it, though he knew that Robin was certainly tired, which could be an explanation. Much also reminded himself that going to camp was what he had wanted, so why argue for something he did not want now? It would not make any sense.

They peeked through the brushwork that concealed them from any onlookers, watching the gate of Nottingham for any of the others.

Then they could see them. First they made out Allan and then Will, who was still having noticeable problems running. Then came another figure clad in a hooded cape, Djaq most likely, then unmistakably John following behind. They were moving at good speed and no guards seemed to pursue them for now. Much glanced at Robin, wondering if they were to wait till the gang had made it to the forest. He looked down at his side once again, still not liking it very much.

Robin had seen the glance. "We need to get you back to camp," he decided. Much didn't protest as this was what he thought Robin needed after all.

Once they had remounted, Robin hurried his horse and Much was glad about every mile they put between themselves and Nottingham. The other man didn't slow down before they turned into the trail that would lead them to camp. Much felt a sting in his side and touching it, found a new trickle of warm blood. He would have to take care of that; he didn't feel like bleeding out at all.

Robin drew closer to the camp on horseback than Much had ever seen him doing before, but he guessed that it was Robin's way of admitting that he wouldn't be able to make it far on his own feet. They tied the horses to a tree and Much followed his friend into the camp.

Robin immediately moved to get water and cloth. "Much, come here, I need to clean that cut." Much went over to him, lifting up his torn shirt. One more thing he would have to patch together; once he had Robin back on his feet that was.

The man cleaned the wound and though Much flinched several times he also watched Robin whose expression was focused on his task.

"You're dirty!" he stated then, observing the tried traces of... something in his friend's face.

"Like you're not," Robin returned with a chuckle, but Much didn't believe in the amusement it was supposed to convey.

"There's something you're not telling me," he noted, as Robin wrapped a bandage over the cut at his side. Robin once again didn't respond, fixing the bandage instead. Much was determined to get an answer though.

"What is it? What did they do?" Once Robin was done with his task, he added, "Why aren't you telling me? There's... so much you're not telling me."

They had spent five long years together, away in a foreign land, that had mostly only brought them an unlimited number of nightmares. They had lived through things together that they would hardly tell anyone else about. But still Much could not help feeling that Robin was hiding something from him, could not understand why he still had not enough of the man's trust.

"Robin..."

"Maybe I just can't..." Robin finally answered and Much looked at his earnest expression.

Then he bent down carefully to pick up another cloth, dipping it in the water. "You need to get this... stuff off, no matter if you tell me or not."

Robin reached for the cloth with an uncaring move and rubbed his face with it.

Much still was not over the topic, but figured that the other man was not ready to talk now. "So... what about me cooking you something, wouldn't that be good?" He tried a smile, intending to lift the mood. After all, Robin was here, safe, maybe not quite sound yet, but that would come. He still kept the smile on his face, nodding to himself, as Robin moved away without another word, sitting down on his bedroll. Much began to busily prepare a meal, trying to ignore the pain that was still coming from his side, also starting a fire that would warm them all. "The others are going to be here soon, I guess. Surely they will. We're all safe, that's a good thing. I don't like the sheriff and didn't feel like staying at his place even one minute longer." He chopped a carrot into the pot in front of him.

"Best we are going to stay at the camp now. We don't want to get into trouble again, now do we? With the people and all... I still can't believe what they were shouting the other day, like... really like they hated us. Disgusting..." He shook his head. "We've given them so much..." He turned his head to look at Robin, maybe enticing the man to at least answer from time to time this way, but then he saw that Robin was lying on his bed and as Much moved closer he found the man sleeping deeply. He figured this was a good thing, too. He'd make the man eat something later, but for now it was good, definitely good that he was getting some rest.

Marian ran. She had spent a longer time than planned up at the castle walls, but she had wanted to make sure that all of the outlaws were on their way out before she left. Of all the arrows she and Djaq had sent down into the castle yard, only two had been planned to be aimed.

Djaq's was for the sheriff, intending to hurt but not kill. Marian's was for Robin. She aimed a safe distance over his head, the arrow hitting the post Robin was tied too, causing most of the guards who had been standing around the archer to duck out of the way, especially as more arrows were raining down, undirected now and not intended to kill - which they could not know. Only the guard who Marian knew to be Will was left and he moved quickly to release Robin. Her heart dropped together with the man, but with relief did she see that Will was able to pull him to his feet, dragging him away.

Marian aimed more arrows over the heads of the crowd, as if sending them a warning to stay away from the two men. She knew Djaq was doing the same with the guards who had been keeping a watch on John, Much and Allan. The three outlaws had already run off even before Will had managed to free Robin. Marian knew that guards were coming for her, but she did not leave her position up at the castle walls before Will and Robin were out of sight. Then it was out of her hands; Will would take care of the man now; she would have to take care of herself. Djaq had already left her position at the other side of the castle and was now to join the outlaws in their escape.

Marian was running down her predetermined escape route. So far she had not met any guards and she knew clearly why she had chosen that route. It wasn't far to her chamber, but she would have to get there unseen. Then the next part of her cover could come into play. Djaq had given her the herb and Marian trusted that the other woman knew what she was doing.

She stopped dead in her tracks, retreating some feet, when she heard the clang of armor coming up to the corridor. Several guards hurried past her hiding place and once they were gone she moved along and hoped they would not send anymore this way, before she had finally made it to her quarters.

With a careful glance into the empty hallway she slid around the corner that led to the room and some quick steps later, she opened the door and moved inside, closing the door while her heart was racing. Taking only moments to catch her breath, she threw off the Nightwatchman's clothes, having to consider unwelcome visitors in her room soon.

Then she moved to her bed, taking a bucket with her. She grimaced. Djaq had told her what would happen and it was exactly what she needed, but it did not mean that she was looking forward to it. She unrolled the small bundle the Saracen had given her and took out the shiny leaves of the plant. She chewed them at first carefully, then more thoroughly, taking in the pepper-like taste and smell.

She lay down on her bed, waiting for the effect to come, hoping it would be before Guy would storm into the chamber, something she knew was going to happen soon. It was not sure that they would be suspicious, but she had to be better than safe and sorry. The sheriff would be furious; and so would Guy who still would try to leave Vaysey to his temper, probably choosing to look after Marian who obviously hadn't been seen at the failed hanging.

Marian felt sick when she thought about it. Her stomach churned as she remembered Robin's faring. They had rescued him, she was certain the outlaws had succeeded in that, but still they were not able to undo what had happened. She gagged at the memory of what had been done and realized that the herb was taking its effect. She leaned over the side of her bed, aiming at the bucket that stood there and emptied her stomach. She was certainly sick enough to be convincing.

It didn't take long before the knock on her door that she had expected came.

"Marian?" Guy's voice was unmistakable.

"Come in," she called back weakly, feeling a new wave of nausea coming up. Guy strode into the room, standing tall beside the door then.

"You're unwell still," he said, looking at her lying propped up on the bed.

"It's alright," she returned, knowing that it was not even her goal to make him believe as much. At this moment she heaved again and leaned over the edge of the bed, blushing suddenly as she considered how un-ladylike it was to spew in front of a man like Guy. But then it would be even less comfortable to hang because she had helped the outlaws, she presumed, as she pulled back her hair, leaning back onto her pillow.

Guy came over to her. "I will send for a physician."

"It's not necessary," Marian insisted, wondering if a physician would notice that nothing was really wrong with her.

The man shook his head. "You are ill. I will send for him." He had half turned away to leave for the errand, when Marian spoke up quickly.

"Guy, why did you come?"

She wasn't fully certain why she was asking. Her sickness had after all been an intended distraction from that very topic that was certainly on everyone's mind. But then, Marian wanted to know what had happened after she ran from her position up at the castle walls. Guy would know, and maybe she could get him to tell her.

"It does not matter now. I need to go and send for the help you need." His expression was determined and Marian sunk back on her bed, watching him leave.

At the end they were safely back in the forest. Once they had been out of Nottingham, guards had started pursuing them after all, any distraction inside the town obviously gone with the leaving of the outlaws. Djaq had released some arrows from her bow though, John towering menacingly by her side while Will and Allan were ushered onwards. The guards had once again ducked out of the way, obviously not ready to die for what they considered a lost cause, now that Hood was clearly gone.

Soon they had reached the edge of the forest and vanished into the underbrush. They slowed down then, taking care of the fact that both Will and Allan were injured. Djaq knew she would have a lot of work once they were back at the camp, with Much and Robin probably even more so.

It was well into the afternoon when they reached camp and they found Much sitting tiredly next to the fire, watching the sleeping form of Robin. He startled a bit when they entered the camp, apparently having been half asleep himself. Djaq could see an empty plate next to him and smelled that there was still food simmering in the pot over the fire.

"Ah, there you are," Much said, standing up.

Djaq moved over to him. "How is the wound?"

"Robin bandaged it," the man explained.

"Let me look at it," the Saracen told him, sitting down beside Much.

The man looked over to Robin. "You need to take care of him first. Something is wrong with him."

Djaq watched the sleeping man thoughtfully. Of course something was wrong, but as far as she could tell, Much had no real idea what had happened. He simply hadn't seen what had been done. Only she and Will had, and she was sure Will hadn't told Allan or John about it. It was not her place to tell Much about it either.

"He's sleeping now," she said quietly.

Much nodded, lifting his shirt then to let her take a look at the bandaged wound. The blood hadn't soaked the bandage which was certainly a good sign. Djaq figured that Much had to be hurting though.

"I'm going to prepare something that will help you sleep later," she suggested.

"Robin's sleeping without anything." Much was still watching the man. Djaq smiled. It was a good thing Robin was sleeping. He needed the rest. Everything else had to come later. She stood up and retrieved her bag, looking through the herbs that would help Much sleep despite the pain he had to be feeling.

Then she would go and look at Will's leg again, would check out Allan, and Robin, once he would awake, which would probably and hopefully not be before long after all the strain he had been through. She had her work cut out for her, and it took most of the evening. Yet in the end it turned out that everyone would be well. Or well enough, at least. The thought came to her later, when she was sitting next to Will, renewing the dressing on his injury. Much had fallen asleep on his bed, John and Allan following a similar suit. The question came to her mind as she began to tend to Will's leg.

"Are you going to tell him?"

"Who?" Will questioned, but he didn't ask what Djaq meant. She knew it had to be on his mind, too.

"Much."

The man shook his head. "No, I can't," he said quietly. "It would be wrong."

Djaq nodded. She had felt the same way, but still considered that Much had to learn about it. She wondered if Robin would leave him and the rest of the gang out of the loop. Maybe the man did not even know that she and Will knew what had happened. She could imagine that Robin was hurting on the inside and would probably do so longer than on the outside which rest would probably heal soon enough. She also knew that Much had helped Robin through other horrors, and felt that the man had to know in order to be able to support his friend.

"Much needs to know about it," she stated in a quiet manner.

"Robin will tell him." Will did not sound very certain and Djaq could not disagree with that insecurity.

"I do not think so..." she started slowly. "I think he often does not tell Much, things Much needs to know..."

"It is Robin's place, not ours. And that goes for the others as well. No doubt Robin will need to rest. It will be good for all of us, to rest, I mean."

She nodded, knowing Will was right despite how much she disliked the fact of keeping it from Much, knowing the man longed to know. Robin was too personal, keeping things quiet that he should not. Yet it was his nature, and she had to trust that; it had got them through everything thus far. But at the same time, they had never faced such a challenge as this.

Finishing the dressing she wrapped his leg once more, confident that it was healing fine before moving to her feet. Allan was already sleeping, but it did not stop her from running her hands along his face, measuring his pulse while he dozed. His breaths were even, and the hit to his head had not done a lot of outward damage. There could still be things hiding underneath, but it would take time for them to show. She would, without a doubt, be busy enough this coming night.

Robin was the last of her concern, mostly because she knew he had not taken any outward hurt. He was sure to be sore, perhaps a bit chilled, something she remedied by pulling a blanket over his stretched out form. Sleep was the most important for him now; it would not only steal away the ache his limbs held, but it would also help to heal his weary soul. The trial he had been put through had been a rough one, but all of that would change in time. It had to change.

What would they do, now that the people did not trust them? Surely they had to realize they had been tricked, led astray. With a sigh she sat down near the fire, reveling in its warmth. Robin would understand that, too. He would have to, so they could continue with their work. Somehow he would figure it out how they could go on.

TBC