A/N: Thanks to Emmithar for the beta!

Chapter 12: Fault

"Gisborne!" The sheriff's voice sounded through the castle's corridors. Guy hurried his steps in the opposite direction. He didn't have time for the man's whims and neither was he keen on indulging Vaysey's anger. It was the man's own fault after all.

Gisborne had lobbied to kill Hood as soon as possible. They had him in their hands, they only needed to do the last step and they would have been rid of him forever. But no, the sheriff had once again felt the need to make a show of it. He has rambled on his intention to destroy Hood's reputation forever, before killing him. Guy had considered this superfluous, or, at the most, of considerable less importance than to get rid of the man himself.

Guy couldn't deny that he had enjoyed Hood being humiliated in front of the people of Nottingham… but then he still had been against letting the town's folk and peasants act out of their lowest instincts. It was not the people's place to execute justice on the outlaw; it was the sheriff's and in relation, maybe Gisborne's as well.

Nevertheless, the sheriff had gone along with it, had actively celebrated the event. Now he was raging because the hanging had ended in a disaster, with all the outlaws getting away, even Hood being freed, and Vaysey himself injured. Guy didn't feel sorry for him.

With large strides he made his way out of the castle, quick to get away from the man. His errand was more important than to listen to the complaints he would get to hear again and again. Marian was sick, had been sick for more than a day now, and he needed to send a physician to her.

He had wanted to order one of his own men to get him at first, but Vaysey's calls had changed his mind. He would go himself, not only to avoid the man for now, but also because he felt the need to get the errand done as quickly as possible.

As usual people got out of his way when he came through the street; there was no need for him to pay much attention to it. It didn't take him long to reach the house of the physician. He knocked hard against the door, waiting only briefly before he opened it and stepped into the building. The man he was looking for came with hurried steps out of the next room, a strained look on his face as he recognized Gisborne who towered in the entrance.

"Sir Guy," he offered a greeting.

"You need to come with me. There is a lady at the castle who is unwell," Guy didn't waste any time on pleasantries.

The physician nodded, stepping to a shelf that held a large bag. "What is the lady's specific indisposition? I am asking to know what remedies I may take along."

Guy felt somewhat uncomfortable at the thought of describing Marian's personal state to the stranger, but reminded himself that the man would have to look at her anyway. "She complained of a headache at first and is now vomiting."

The other man nodded. "If I may be frank, is it possible that she is with child?"

Guy was stunned, the thought never having occurred to him. Marian couldn't be... It was banished quickly. There was no doubt of Marian's virtue. "Definitely not," he answered in a hard voice.

"Has she taken anything to her that might not have agreed with her? Any bad food maybe?"

Guy froze, his mind immediately rushing to the sheriff's poisoned food supplies that had been on their way to Nottingham. Had Marian somehow eaten any of it? He didn't think it likely, as all of it had been destroyed, as far as he knew. If it had not been ambushed by the outlaws as planned by Vaysey, Guy certainly would have made sure that none of it reached the castle's kitchen. But what if something had come to the castle after all? What if the sheriff's malicious plan, one he had been opposed to anyway, had poisoned Marian? What if she was to die from it? His throat tightened.

"I...," he started. "I cannot be sure."

The other man nodded again. "I will have to see for myself then." The man packed up his bag and minutes later he was following Guy to the castle. Guy walked faster than the other man could with his heavy bag and soon had to wait for him on the castle's step. He turned and glared impatiently at the man. The physician hastened his steps and caught up with the Master-At-Arms.

They were soon up in the castle, and finally at Marian's chamber. Guy took care to knock this time and waited for her call, before he opened the door. She was still lying on the bed, still as pale as before. She seemed to rest now though, no more heaving disturbing her body.

"If you may leave us alone?" the other man asked politely, turning to Gisborne after having bowed to the lady.

Guy frowned, but nodded. It was not his right to intrude yet more into Marian's privacy, not yet at least as he still hid a hope inside of him. With a nod he left the room, only to wander the hallway aimlessly. It was then that the sheriff caught him after all.

"Gisborne!" he yelled. "Where on earth have you been?" The man's expression showed his rage. He was limping, his foot clearly in pain. Guy still felt no pity.

Instead he faced him with suppressed anger. "I was out to get the physician. Lady Marian is unwell-"

"Aww," the sheriff feigned compassion. "Dear Marian is sick? Such a shame!"

Gisborne gritted his teeth. "It may well be possible that she ate some of the food you had poisoned," he accused the man, the tone of his voice less restrained now than before.

The sheriff lifted his eyebrows. "I see you left your brain inside her room, or maybe inside something else, who knows." He grinned briefly. "Lepers, Gisborne, they only bring trouble." The anger returned into his expression. "And who knows, maybe dear Marian is exhausted now, after all the day's excitement! For who knows who helped Hood escape!" The last words were once again shouted.

Guy stared at the man, his anger raging at the thought that the man dared to suggest Marian helped the outlaws, when she was sick in her bed and the sheriff might very well be responsible for it. Before he could speak another word though, Vaysey continued.

"Get me the Nightwatchman, Gisborne, and I may forget your misjudgment," he said coldly.

"There are two Nightwatchmen," Guy reminded him, barely avoiding a smirk. Vaysey deserved the failure, as little as Guy liked the fact of Hood's escape, this thought was still with him.

"Yes, yes, they seem to be breeding!" the sheriff told him in an irritated voice, before yelling once again, "Then get them both!"

The man turned around and stormed off. Guy watched him leaving for a few moments, before turning to walk back to Marian's chamber. Surely the physician had to have found out by now what was wrong with her. Guy clenched his fists, as he wondered what he was to do, if it was indeed poison that had befallen her. The sheriff would pay in that case, Gisborne felt it in his heart that he would, if Marian was to die from it. The man's outlandish plans only brought trouble, maybe even death to them, and still had failed to kill Hood. Guy closed his eyes for a moment, trying to calm and reminded himself that his position depended on the man after all, that it was the man that still held Guy's hopes of advancement and power in his hands.

Guy stopped in front of Marian's room, once again knocking but not waiting for an answer this time. As he walked in, the physician was rummaging in his bag, while Marian sat propped up on the bed, an annoyed expression on her face.

"Sir Guy," the man looked up to him. "Lady Marian is adamantly refusing the recommended leeches that will clear her body of the evil spirits that have befallen it."

Guy started at the man, before turning his gaze to her. "Marian..." Her expression stopped any plead he would have wanted to make, so he looked back at the other man. "You are going to have to find another remedy, and I warn you, should Lady Marian not recover, I will make you personally responsible." The threat in his voice was unmistakable and the other man paled, but nodded, turning his attention back to the contents of his bag.

Guy looked at Marian, taking in her still pale face. "Have you... eaten anything that has not agreed with you?" he asked.

She hesitated. "I do not believe so."

Guy nodded, figuring that she could hardly know if anything had been wrong with any food or drink she had taken. The physician finally stopped his search and pulled a vial out of his bag.

"I will prepare a draught of this. It will help," he said, nodding eagerly.

Marian had sunk back into her pillows, not looking as if she had a lot of trust in any of the physician's remedies. Gisborne paced nervously.

"Guy," she spoke up finally, her voice still sounding weak to his ears. "I might like to see my father."

Guy froze at the request. He knew this would not go well with the sheriff. The man would never allow Sir Edward to leave the dungeons at this time.

"Guy, please."

Gisborne gritted his teeth, wondering how he could refuse that wish to her. Her she was, sick, maybe because of the sheriff's doing, and had that simple wish of seeing her father. What would she be thinking of him, if he was to refuse the request? But then he could not risk to antagonize Vaysey, as much as he had often wished to do it. He looked down at Marian. If the sheriff was not to know about it... Finally he nodded. "I will send for him."

Marian smiled a weak thanks, while the physician was still busy mixing his draught.

It was light when he woke. His bedding was warm, though the air around him that touched his face felt chilly. Robin opened his eyes slowly, seeing and hearing Much snoring at the other side of the camp. He closed his eyes again, taking in the calm and safety that the place provided. His body still felt sore, about as much as if he had run many miles, but he wasn't really in pain and grateful for it.

He took slow breaths, coming only now to really believe that he was actually back at the camp, that everything that had been in Nottingham was behind him. He hadn't expected this to happen, he knew that. He had been fairly certain that he would die at the town's castle yard. Will's successful rescue had left him no time to think, events had rushed past him without time for his emotions to adapt to them. He had arrived with Much at the camp in a state of tiredness that had searched for nothing more than sleep.

He had apparently slept through the rest of the day as well as through the night. Opening his eyes again, he slowly sat up on his bed, looking around the camp. His friends were all accounted for; he could see each of their sleeping forms. He looked at each and every one of them and wondered how they were to go on.

He laid his head on his arms, trying to banish the memories of what had happened. The people were against them, against him, were hating him even. The pictures came back and he could not help it. He could hear their yells again, hear the words they had spoken. They could not go on like this; how were they to do so if they had lost the trust of those they wanted to help?

Maybe the gang would be able to do something on their own, maybe Marian would be able to help them, any of them who would not be directly connected to him. Robin sighed, knowing they all would likely be linked to his name.

What was left then? What was it the sheriff planned? He surely still schemed to kill the king. Robin had sent Roger of Stokes with a message to the king, urging him to return to England, but he had no way of knowing when this letter would reach the king. Robin leaned back with a sigh. There was nothing else he could do at the moment.

The others were still sleeping and Robin wondered how much they knew about everything that had happened. John, Much and Allan at the least had experienced the uproar when they had been taken into Nottingham. Still, they could not know what had occurred after.

Will and Djaq on the other hand... they had been in Nottingham as far as he could tell. He didn't know how they had worked out to save him and the lads, but he was certain that the two of them had been in town for a while. They would know what had happened and Robin felt a wave of shame coming up at the idea of them watching how far he had sunk in the people's eyes. Would they tell the others about it? Much surely would insist on knowing about everything.

Robin wondered what was going on in the heads of the lads. He looked at Will's sleeping form and smiled sadly. It was only now that he could slowly start to feel the joy of seeing him alive, no matter that it was tainted by the fact of what the young man might be thinking. Will... Will had saved him.

The man had escaped the sheriff's gallows. The wondering as to how came back to Robin's mind and with it returned the memory of the devastating thoughts of betrayal he had brooded about during that terrible night out at the castle yard. He felt another sense of shame now when he thought of the doubts he had harbored, the idea that Will, and maybe Djaq as well, would have betrayed him and brought him into the position he had found himself in.

The two had managed to save the gang and he could only guess that Marian had helped them as he thought back of the double appearance of the Nightwatchman. Robin smiled, but the expression turned into a grave one when he wondered if Marian was safe. The sheriff had sent his guards after the interferers, a distraction that only had enabled Will to free Robin and the other outlaws to flee. Robin was determined that he had to find out about her safety. But how? Going to Nottingham surely was not an option. It was yet another reason why he questioned what he had left to do. He wouldn't be able to show his face in town; the people would alert the sheriff, if they did not even attack him on their own.

Robin rubbed his eyes, thinking of the villages. Maybe at least the people of Locksley had not turned against him. Maybe he still held their trust. He had always been hoping that he would be able to return to them one day, the day when the king returned. The sheriff would be ousted and Robin would be able to return to his home.

The thought stayed with him for a while, until he looked up to see Much watching him silently. He had not noticed that the man was even awake.

"Robin, are you going tell me?" he asked quietly.

Robin looked away.

"You're upset," Much insisted.

The archer nodded only so slightly, still not catching the other's gaze again.

"It's the people, isn't it?" his friend said slowly, as if understanding was coming to him. "You're upset about what they said."

Robin finally looked at Much and was sure the other man could see the hurt in his eyes, maybe even the shame. He could see the feelings being reflected in the other man's face. And still Much did not even know the whole of it. Robin was not sure he would ever be able to tell him.

He rubbed his eyes again, lying back on his bed, looking at the roof of the camp over his head. "You're a good friend, Much." It came out far too toneless for his liking.

"Robin, you know I love you?" the man spoke up. "And the lads do as well."

Robin pressed his lips together, stopping himself from saying that Much could not know what every single one of the others were thinking. Robin himself did not know.

"The people..." Much went on. "They listened to the sheriff...but, but they will calm down," he nodded, "and remember, and it will come back to them that they know you, and that you are a good person."

Robin swallowed. "What if they do not?" he asked quietly. He could only imagine Much staring at him, as his gaze was still fixed over his head.

"I'm sure they still trust you..." Much sounded confident at first, but that confidence was fading away with every word, "once... they've come to their right senses."

Robin turned around to face the wall instead of answering, closing his eyes. He was sure he wouldn't be able to sleep anymore, but he needed time to think. He knew Much was doing the best he could, but he could not feel the same hope. Much hadn't seen the full extent of the people's outrage towards them, toward him, Robin. Right now he could not imagine going back there. He considered himself a brave man, but he could not imagine facing the same thing again.

He heard Much getting up and moving through the camp, probably preparing something for breakfast. He'd certainly make something for Robin, too, would want him to eat. Robin didn't feel hungry, but he felt a pain of regret inside of him that he would never be able to make it up to the man. How could he, if he did not even manage to tell him about the ache he was feeling? Soon the lads would know something was wrong, if they not already suspected so. They'd know that he did not feel like he could do anymore what he knew needed to be done. He was empty handed.

TBC