Locked in his dungeon cell, Robin's active mind refused to let him sleep. He was counting on Sheriff Wilfred's fairmindedness to see him through this unjust imprisonment and false accusation, which was why he'd cooperated and let himself be hauled away from his home. He hoped Marian wasn't too worried.
If he could only speak to Annora! Robin didn't believe her to be so meanspirited as to want him harmed, when she knew he'd never even tried to touch her inappropriately. She probably couldn't sleep either, regretting her lie, but likely being too frightened now to withdraw it. But she would, he was certain. Annora wasn't an evil person, he believed, just wounded by his rejection. She would come to her senses, and recant her accusation.
All the same, being locked in the dungeon brought back memories long since buried in the distant recesses of his mind. Just as Much had mentioned he expected to see Gisbourne striding through the castle earlier today, Robin half expected to see Sheriff Vaisey come strutting down the steps to try to bait and goad him into one of their "little chats." The very thought made his skin crawl.
But at least Vaisey hadn't clapped him in irons, not every time he'd been imprisoned. It seemed James Fitzhugh was taking no chances of him escaping, double locking him into the most secure cell available, clapping both his wrists and ankles in iron chains forged into the stone walls, and posting four men to guard him, two outside the entrance to the dungeon, and two just outside his cell. No wonder sleep eluded him!
"Oi! What's going on here?" one of his guards interrupted his thoughts, demanding information. "Get back to your posts!"
"Shut up, Barker," another guard insisted. "We're still guarding the prisoner. We're only bringin' these lovely ladies down so they can see 'Robin Hood' in jail again!"
"So as they can tell their grandchildren," the other guard acknowledged.
Robin was shocked to see Maggie, swaying on her feet as if drunk, fling her body up against the guard called Barker. "Now, Sweetie," she was cooing, rubbing up against him, "don't you go barking and tell on us! All's we want is a little peek!"
"Give us a peek," the fourth guard bargained, leering at the other red headed whore, "and we'll give you one."
Robin glanced at the woman and felt ashamed of himself. One quick glance, and his trousers grew snug. He couldn't control what had happened, but he could keep his eyes averted. He did so, until he recognized her voice.
"You first, Handsome," she teased.
Marian! What was she doing here? Especially, falling out of the top of her dress, disguised as a whore! Robin was livid, and tried to communicate it to his wife through a burning stare.
"We brought a little refreshment for you boys," Maggie added, holding up a wineskin. "Finest brew the Cherry Pit has to offer! Who wants a swig?"
All four guards did, laughingly passing the wineskin among them. Marian took the opportunity to look at Robin, signalling him hope, and was instantly angry by his furious expression.
What, was he being a fool, jealous of some guards, when she was only trying to free him? All the pity she'd felt at seeing him locked up disappeared. Rolling her eyes, she dismissed his jealousy, and began playing her part.
"So, this is the famous Robin Hood," she slurred, pretending to be drunk. "Dudn't look so handsome to me! Goofy looking, I'd call him!" She tossed her head and shot Robin a look of triumph, then one of pity, when she noticed the irons.
She remembered how much it had hurt when her own wrists had been mangled, the day Gisbourne allowed her to be chained as Winchester's prize. The irons had rubbed the skin on her wrists raw, and Robin had stolen into her room later, and had been gentleness itself, helping her bathe them. He had been certain she would finally join him that day in the forest, and had been so unhappy she'd chosen to remain in the castle, yet hadn't spoken a single word of reproach.
The guards were laughing harder at her comment. "Goofy looking!" they repeated, jealous of the handsome former outlaw. "No wonder he had to force that girl!"
"You shoulda come to us, Sweetie," Maggie purred through the bars of his cage. "We'll be nice to anyone, what can pay the price!"
Marian didn't feel up to the charade any longer. But she drew herself together, for Robin's sake.
"Your turn," the leering guard informed her, already showing signs of drunkenness from the potent wine. "I gave you your peek. Now, it's time I get to see mine!"
"How dare you" was on the tip of Marian's tongue, but she bit it back, saying instead, "Looks are free. Meet me at the Cherry Pit with your purse fully lined, and we can really have fun!"
She could hear an angry explosion of breath coming from Robin's cell. No, Robin, don't struggle. It will make the irons dig deeper into your flesh. They'll be drunk soon, and you'll be free.
"Since looks don't cost," Barker invited, "show us all what you got!"
All the guards hooted and made cat calls at Marian, and she wasn't exactly sure what to do, when Maggie came to her rescue, flinging open her bodice and snapping it shut again. "Every time you four sweeties take a drink," Maggie offered, "you get another peek. Wanna play?"
The guards shouted out their willingness, and began swilling the wine faster than Much could skin a squirrel. Maggie was kept busy, opening and shutting her bodice, gradually giving the guards longer and longer looks.
They'd seemed to have forgotten Marian, to her vast relief. She leaned her side against the bars of Robin's cell, to keep one eye on the guards, and cast one loving one on her husband. "Don't worry, my love," she whispered to him, "you'll soon be free."
"To go where?" he asked her. "Are you really expecting me to run off to the forest again, Marian, without clearing my name? And where did you get that dress?"
Her head whipped around to fully face him so quickly, her wig nearly came off. "Where do you think?" she hissed. "Don't tell me you're ungrateful of my help!"
"Help?" he repeated, smugly. "You shouldn't be here, Marian. You should be at home, doing your embroidery."
It had slipped out, an old argument never quite forgotten. "How dare you?" she cried, her voice growing louder in her passionate response.
The guards stopped drinking, and looked toward the arguing couple. Maggie held her breath, wondering what to do. Luckily, the wine had taken affect. One by one, the guards' heads swayed, then dropped to the floor, as they each passed out in a drunken stupor.
"Lord!" Maggie cried excitedly. "Look at all them keys! Which little bugger do you think opens your cell?"
"Leave them, Maggie," Robin ordered. "I'm staying, until justice is served."
Maggie lifted her eyebrows, but accepted whatever his lordship wanted. Marian, however, could not believe her ears. Grabbing the heavy keyring out of Maggie's hands, she quickly began fitting key after key into the locks on Robin's cell door.