A/N: Only one chapter is going to follow after this one. It will be up in a couple of days. Thanks to Emmithar for the beta once again! :)

Chapter 13: Unease

Marian was grateful that a servant had removed the bucket and its smell away from her bed.

She was feeling considerably better by now. That wasn't really a surprise as nothing had actually been wrong with her, but Guy didn't need to know that or he might recant his promise of sending for her father, so she resolved to stay in bed as long as necessary.

In the next moment there was a knock at the door and when she called, Guy entered and held the door open for Edward to walk inside. The moment she saw her father, Marian felt a sting of remorse for having pretended to be sick. Not because it had caused Guy to send for him, but because she realized that she had caused her father to worry unnecessarily, and even more so because she noticed that he was the one who was actually not well. She hadn't had time to visit him these past days, too occupied with helping Robin and his men. He looked worse now than the last time she had seen him, or maybe the proper light of her room compared to the dim one in the dungeons only showed it more clearly that the man was ill.

He forced a smile. "Marian."

Guy nodded briefly in acknowledgement behind the man, before leaving them alone, as Marian smiled back at her father.

"You have me worried," he said.

"You do not need to be," she returned quietly.

He sat down in the chair Guy had pulled up next to her bed earlier that day. Marian moved to sit up more properly, trying to clearly mark that she was feeling better.

He took her hand. "What is wrong, Marian?"

"Nothing," she shook her head. "I am not ill," she added quietly, wondering if Guy was listening at the door. She didn't really think he would do such a thing, but it was not something she could risk anyone overhearing.

Her father frowned and she felt the pang of guilt again. She had often worried him in her life, but it has usually been for what she had considered good reasons. Of course, saving Robin was a good reason, too, in her mind.

"Have you heard about..." she hesitated, wondering what to tell him, finally deciding to be straightforward. "...Robin?"

The man's frown didn't vanish and he took a moment before answering. "I have heard rumors." He looked at her as if trying to gauge her emotions. "Is he...?"

"He is alive," she said quickly, still in a low voice. "Not well, maybe, but alive."

Edward nodded earnestly. "You helped him?" he asked in a whisper.

Marian only nodded and her father closed his eyes for a moment. It was a clear sign, showing that he had expected as much, but was still concerned.

"I am not ill," she explained finally, whispering as well. "I pretended to be, for if I am sick in bed, I cannot have been somewhere else…at the failed hanging for example."

His face showed his fear, but also the unspoken question as to why, no matter the fact that her father knew her, knew why she was doing it, had to know.

"You know I have more than one reason," she said, and he gave a brief nod.

"This is not wise, not for someone like you. Already we tread on dangerous grounds. I do not wish to see you end up like me...or like Robin and his men almost did."

"Guy trusts me," she reminded him, trying to remain confident in her words. "Enough that he would bring you here; for me."

"One day that trust will run out. Or the sheriff will act out on his own whims and desires. What you say, what you want, will not matter. And Guy of Gisborne will not be able to protect you."

Marian wanted to argue further, but they had led a similar discussion more than once before. She closed her eyes for a moment, before looking at her father worriedly. His illness was clearly of more immediate concern than what he thought she should be doing, or not be doing.

"You are not well," she said quietly.

Sir Edward did not answer directly.

"We need to get you out of the dungeons for good, out of the castle," Marian decided. "Maybe I can get Guy to-"

"No, Marian," he shook his head. "I do not want you to take any more risks."

She frowned, leaning back against the pillows behind her. Her father had to know that nothing he would say would actually stop her. She could understand his worry; but then she had no other choice. She could as little have Robin hang in front of her eyes as she could see the people starve or die of lack of medicine that was available easily enough if one could afford it. And she certainly would not let her father die in the sheriff's dungeons if she had a chance to stop it.

It was not even only the worry about the man in front of her that was plaguing her. She wondered about Robin, too, wishing she could know how he was holding up. She hadn't been able to talk to him at all these past days. She missed him, she admitted that to herself. And she was worried as to what he might feel. Will, Djaq and her might have saved him and the other outlaws from hanging, but the sheriff's cruel punishment had still struck Robin. Marian could only imagine what he had felt.

She wondered if it would change his actions, his plans. She had called him out on his actions often enough, had warned him to be more careful, but at the end of the day she could not blame him. It was the sheriff who had the food poisoned, Marian was certain about that, the sheriff who had set up the outlaws and had thrown Robin to the wolves. Maybe it was he who had won after all, no matter that the outlaws escaped with their lives for now.

Will woke up to the rattling of Much's cooking pot. He sat up sleepily, looking around camp to see everyone either sleeping or lounging about. Will smiled; it was good to know they were all safe. He looked at Robin to see that the man was awake, but sitting still.

Will hadn't had a chance to talk to him the day before and could only wonder how the man was feeling. Physically he had apparently been weak, as Will had to drag him halfway to safety at first, but he had the hope that Robin was feeling better now.

He himself was certainly doing so. A good breakfast was what he needed and he smiled as he watched Much busily preparing it. The man was throwing glances back at Robin from now and then and it made Will wonder if Robin had told him about everything that had happened, and that this was the reason for Much's frequent looks.

The question was still with Will as Much handed out filled plates and he felt a pang of regret as he looked at the food and thought of all the goods that had been lost for the people, the very food that they would have needed so much for the coming winter.

As he ate, he wondered what they were to do. The gang wouldn't be able to get plenty of food; they couldn't steal anything that did not exist. They could steal money that would enable the villagers to buy food from others, but most likely it would have to come from other shires. The sheriff's regime was certainly taking its toll.

Even if they figured something out, there was still the mistrust the people would feel towards them now. Will chewed angrily, working on a somewhat harder piece of meat. He glanced at Robin and saw that the man's plate was untouched before him. Robin probably harbored the same concerns as Will. Maybe what the man was feeling was even more intensive, as the rage of the people had mostly been directed at him. Will couldn't forget what he had witnessed. He had heard the arguments of the people on the streets and in the tavern, but he could still not understand how things could have gotten out of hand like that.

Much moved over to Robin, looking down at the untouched food. "You need to eat something."

Will figured that Much was right. Robin had not eaten at all these past days, has not even received the meager portions of hard bread that the outlaws had gotten in the dungeons.

"Take it away," Robin said in a low voice.

"What is wrong with you?" Much flared up at first - Will guessed it was out of worry - but added in a softer voice, "Robin?"

Will glanced over at Djaq and saw that she was watching Robin closely with a concerned expression. When the man had not answered Much's question after a few moments and did not move to do anything else either, least of all eat, she put down her own plate. Will knew that Djaq knew about everything as well. If Robin had not told the others, the two of them were the only ones with the knowledge. Apart from Marian of course, but she was back at the castle. Will certainly wouldn't tell Much against Robin's wishes, but he joined in the man's worry about Robin's lack of appetite.

"Robin?" Djaq spoke up now, enticing the man to look up.

He glanced first at Much, then at Djaq, before looking at all of them. Everyone was watching him now, waiting for some sort of response. There was a strained expression on Robin's face and his eyes showed agitation. He slid back against the wall behind him and Will got the impression that the man felt trapped under all the gazes. The silence was tense.

"Just... just, eat," Robin said finally, but shoved his own plate even further away, turning his back to the rest of the camp and pulling his knees up to rest his head on them.

Will exchanged a look with Djaq, but followed their leader's wish then and continued eating his own portion, thinking about the problems they were facing. Whatever they would do, gaining the villagers trust was certainly one thing that needed to be done. It was more specifically the people of Nottingham that they had to approach again. Will didn't think it would be wise to go into the town anytime soon; it was probably best if feelings cooled down first. One day they would have to return though, if they wanted to help, if they wanted to thwart the sheriff. Until then they could look to the other villages. Locksley was the simplest choice. Both he and Robin still had ties there, though it was Will who visited more often. But then Gisborne might be there, so it would not be advisable for the gang to show their faces in the villages right now.

So maybe Clun was the best choice, as it was closest to Nottingham. But then there was still the question as to what they could do. They could offer no food to the peasants, food they so desperately needed. It was all destroyed.

Will put his plate aside, catching Allan's gazing at him now and wondered what the man was up to. He had been strangely silent since their return to the camp and Will questioned privately if it was all because of the hit to the head the man had received.

At the same moment Will had another thought.

"We still have the sacks of grain Allan and I brought here," he told the others. Even Robin turned to look at him.

"Not being funny, but they're poisoned too, if the others were." Allan shrugged.

"Destroy them," Robin said monotonously.

"No," Will shook his head. "We take them to the villages."

Robin's gaze shot at him. "Didn't you listen? They are poisoned!"

"I know," he frowned, trying to ignore the other man's flare of anger. "We can show them."

"How can we show them?" Much asked. "We can't ask them to give us an ox to feed it to."

"I'm not going to eat any of it to demonstrate it," Allan chuckled, but Will thought that the man sounded uncomfortable despite the joking.

"We're not going to do anything like that," Robin said decisively. "They'd think we poisoned the grains." He sounded bitter and Will could understand the sentiment, though he disagreed with Robin's conclusion.

"They would not think that," he said, knowing he was making a statement that had been shown to be unconvincing during the last days. "I talked to some people in Nottingham. They are mostly confused, don't know what they should believe, but they don't believe what the sheriff is saying..."

Robin didn't answer, but rubbed his forehead instead and stood up, taking a few large strides and was out of the camp before anyone could say anything.

"Robin!" Much called after him, standing up, but Djaq shook her head.

"Leave him."

Much frowned and looked at Robin's untouched plate of food.

"Let me take a look at your wound," the Saracen suggested then, and Will knew that it was both because she considered it necessary and because she wanted to distract Much from Robin. The man probably wanted to be simply left alone, though Will doubted that it would actually help with anything. He knew by own experience that being occupied helped when feeling troubled, but he wondered if lone wanderings through the forest could have the same effect.

"What about the villages now? Should we go there?" he asked the remaining outlaws.

"Robin doesn't want us to go," Much said, as Djaq was renewing the bandage on his side.

"We need to show them," Will argued. "Or at least talk to the peasants."

"We can take the grains to them; tell them not to eat it. If they do it's their own fault, can't blame us then," Allan suggested.

"You can't be serious!" Much exclaimed.

"Well, I'm not really..." the other man grimaced, dropping down on his bedding again, rubbing his head.

"We cannot do that," Djaq shook her head. "We cannot have anyone dying from it."

Will frowned. "Of course not. But we can take the grains, tell them it's all of the supplies we have left, but that nobody can eat it. So we're showing them what we have and they'll hopefully believe us." He shrugged, in helplessness instead of uncaring. "They still remember that we've helped them many times before."

"What if they want to eat it? They are hungry," John spoke up in a grave voice now. Will looked out at the trees around their camp, trying to come up with a solution. He simply knew they had to play with open cards towards the villagers, tell them everything they knew, show them everything they had. He didn't want people to think they were starving because the outlaws destroyed the supplies out of spite while keeping a part for themselves.

"We take it," he decided. "We'll go to Locksley. I know these people. They'll listen."

John nodded then and Djaq did the same after a few moments.

"What about Robin?" It was Allan who was asking and the expression of the others showed that they did not know what to do about their leader either.

"We have to wait for him," Much said finally.

"We cannot wait. We have to go as soon as we can." Will wanted to talk to the people. They knew him, they had to believe him. He wanted it to be right again, as soon as possible.

"I'm going to look for him!" Much moved to get up, but Allan shook his head.

"I'll do it. You're hurt," he nodded towards the man. "Thanks for saving my neck by the way," he added casually, but grimacing then.

"Well," Much sat up straight. "You're welcome…and thanks for saving me, too."

Will saw Djaq wearing an amused smile. Her expression became more thoughtful though when she watched Allan leave to search Robin, while Will thought about what he would tell the people. He wondered if the gang would be able to convince Robin of the plan, and even more so if Robin would be ready to come with them after all.

Robin wasn't quite sure why he had left. He certainly didn't want to discuss Will's foolish plan any longer, but wandering off on his own wasn't what he had wanted either. As he tramped through the underbrush, he was alone with his thoughts and the pictures in his mind.

He felt lonely, it was as simple as that, but there was no rest inside of him, no quietness that should come with the solitude. Back at camp he had felt trapped, had felt the same restlessness. It had been under the stares of the gang, the way they looked at him as if they could read his mind and see all the scattered thoughts and feelings there. He had wanted to get away, but at the same time knew it was a mistake.

His thoughts wandered back to the debate he had fled. He couldn't understand Will's insistence to go to the villages. The peasants didn't trust them. They'd only see once again how the people would turn against them. They would be risking their lives there. Robin simply knew it was wrong. But Will seemed to trust the people, seemed to think they would believe the gang still. Robin wondered if he was wrong not feeling the same. He usually would have given his life to protect his people; had risked it many times. He had known they were on his side. Could he trust that this would still be the case now, after he had seen the opposite in Nottingham?

Robin wandered around aimlessly, coming to a halt a few times, considering for a few moments to return to camp, but moving on after all. He had been walking for a while, slowly going in a half circle to take a long round back to camp, when he heard someone else stepping through the forest. He became only now aware that he had taken neither bow nor sword with him. He had simply fled the camp with no other thought than getting away and now he would be in trouble for it.

He stopped, trying to breathe calmly, letting his eyes wander around, spying through the leaves, trying to catch sight of whoever was there. No doubt the sheriff and Gisborne would not have wasted any time before sending men out after them. The sheriff would never let a prize go so easily, and Gisborne would be forced to act if he wanted to keep the man in decent spirits. Robin's hope was mainly the person would pass by, giving little notice to the outlaw that was hiding. Leaves rustled and branches cracked as the other moved through the underbrush close to Robin. His breaths were regular, he could feel the beating of his heart, and his mind was only focused on the forest and the other now, the thoughts that had depressed him earlier shoved to the back of his mind.

Then the man came into view and Robin relaxed somewhat, though the trouble he had pushed away came back in full.

"Robin?" Allan called and the man hesitated for a moment before he showed himself to the other outlaw. He wasn't sure if he was ready to talk yet, but maybe doing that would ease his mind. Much often wanted to talk, wanted to make him tell what was troubling him; maybe he should start doing so, as isolated as he felt right now. It was the truth; he felt even distant from the lads, yet another reason for his earlier run.

"I'm here," he said finally, stepping towards Allan.

"I've been looking for you," the man explained. "The others want to go to Locksley and all."

Robin nodded quietly. "I thought you might be one of the sheriff's men," he explained his earlier hesitation. "With that spy following us when we got the supplies..." He shook his head, trying to banish the thoughts of betrayal that threatened to come up again. Still, the sheriff's voice was ringing in his mind, the sentences the man had spoken burned into his memory from the time when he had believed in no way out anymore.

He looked at Allan and noticed that the man seemed troubled. Robin wondered about it for a moment, but then remembered that the lads had to be worried as well, not only about the general situation, but probably also about him. The way he was acting was certainly giving them reason to.

"What is it?" Allan asked slowly then, eyebrows half-raised and Robin realized he had been staring into space.

"Just been thinking." He shook his head again, moving ahead to make his way back to camp, the other man following and stepping beside him soon. "Just... I wonder... people can play tricks with your mind."

Allan frowned. "What do you mean?"

Robin didn't want to say it. If he said it, it was as if he gave any credulity to what the sheriff had claimed. He wouldn't do that favor to the man... but what if that one thing had been the truth? Maybe not the full truth… but maybe there was a kernel of truth? He was too trusting... but then, he did not believe so. He kept most of his feelings, many of his thoughts to himself... He didn't easily confide... But then he trusted his men, even if he did not let them in on every one of his thoughts...

"Robin?" Allan spoke again.

"I... sometimes wonder if I can... trust everyone." The words were out and he could not take them back. Robin let them hang in the air and he felt the heaviness of them.

Allan took some moments to answer. "Why would you think so?"

"Things... have gone wrong."

"Yeah, but that was the sheriff's spy," Allan returned quickly.

Robin shook his head. "It's not only that." He frowned, pondering the problems again, while the other man was silent, as they were marching back to camp.

The silence had lasted for a few minutes, when Allan asked, "What about going to Locksley?"

"I'm not coming."

"Why not?" Allan asked almost carelessly, and Robin figured that the man really had not thought about the question.

He stopped dead in his tracks, turning to him. "How could I?" He guessed that Will might be able to talk to the people, but Robin couldn't face them. "They think I betrayed them... How could I go there?"

Allan's expression showed that he had no answer, but that the question had deeply upset him. Robin simply knew that he could not go to the villages. He could not face the peasants, not after what had taken place. If the others wished to go there...

Robin turned away from Allan, walking on, the branches under his feet still cracking, as the silence between the two men had returned.

TBC