"Well, well, well," Isabella of Gisbourne gloated, from the stone steps leading down to Nottingham Castle's dungeon. "Who would have guessed you'd find yourself in such a similar situation twice in your life, Robin, my handsome hero?"
Holding her nose to block out the stench, Isabella clearly relished the sight of Robin, up to his chest, and Marian, up to her chin, in murky wet sludge, trying to keep their footing in their cells.
"However could this have happened?" the queen asked, sounding innocent. "It wouldn't have anything to do with your handsome peasant boy draining the moat now, would it?"
"You've had your fun, Isabella," Robin sneered. "Go back to your husband. Word's reached us, even here, that he's deathly ill."
He was growing mad with worry, watching the sludge climb higher and higher over Marian's neck.
"Oh, Robin," Isabella sighed. "Why should I watch him, thinking he's about to die, when I have a front row seat, watching you two lovebirds struggle through your last gasping breaths? Unless, of course, you manage to think of a way out, which I find highly unlikely. Ahh! If it didn't stink so badly, I wouldn't mind being locked in your cell with you! It's so reminiscent of that time we found ourselves treading water, in this very dungeon! Do you recall? It was so cold, and the water so clear! We just had to cling together, lest we freeze!"
Neither Robin nor Marian took her bait, for both were occupying their minds on survival. Undeterred, Isabella continued speaking, aiming at Marian with her poisonous words.
"Even with the water rising around us, you couldn't resist the temptation of my warm, welcoming flesh, could you, Robin? 'Take off your dress,' you told me. Remember?"
"I said it so I could make a rope. Remember?" he mimicked cruelly, hating her and himself, for ever having been involved with her, and hurting his beloved wife. His kind, brave, lovely, generous wife, whom he desperately needed to save.
"Funny, I don't remember any rope," Isabella lied.
"I tied it to my arrow, and shot it through a ring, so we could climb out," Robin reminded her, his eyes darting about, searching for a way out now, while his mind raced, trying to think up a plan to rescue Marian.
"Arrow?" Isabella repeated, vacantly. "I don't remember any arrow! I do recall something, hard and swollen, insistently poking me between my thighs. Was that the arrow you're referring to?"
"Shut up, Isabella," Marian snapped at her. "I don't believe your lies."
"Queen Isabella, Lady Locksley," Isabella corrected her. "You will address me properly, drowning in green goo or not."
"She's lying, Marian," Robin told his wife. "We were trapped here, with water rising to drown us, and I did tell her to take off her dress, but it was to fashion a rope, like I said. Unknown to her, my thoughts were only of you."
"I believe you," Marian assured him. "Any chance you can shoot a rope through a ring and get us out today?"
"Hold on, my love. I'll think of something. I love you. You're not going to die, not today."
"You can't die, either, Robin. I love you, my husband."
"How sweet," Isabella sneered. "Too bad, you're both wrong. No matter! Locksley will revert to the Crown when you're dead, and your brat will become a ward of the Crown. I might even convince my husband, should he survive his fatal disease, to let us raise her! I do so adore children, after all. Remember Bat, my brother's bastard son? Poor little tongueless waif! Couldn't even tell you how he wasted away, after dining with me!"
"You poisoned him?" Marian accused, tears stinging her eyes.
"You can't have Ellie," Robin vowed. "I'll kill you first."
"Empty threats again, Robin? My, my! I tremble with fear! Ha! But really, the stench is getting too much for me, and I must change my jewels. I think I'll wear my new emerald ring! It holds such sentimental value, after all. But never fear, Robin, my love. I'll return to watch you turn as green as the bath surrounding you! Ta ta!"
"Marian," Robin said desperately, once Isabella had gone, "See if you can float. This sludge is thick. It might hold you up, but if you swallow it..."
The sludge was oozing above her chin, soon to reach her mouth and then, her nostrils. With a little gasp, Marian pushed off from the floor, relieved to find she could indeed float easily.
"Well, that bought us some time," she said.
"I once told your father," Robin confessed to her, "I probably don't deserve you. I was right; I don't. I'm sorry again, I played with your feelings. You were right, my love. I treated you like a child yesterday, when I was the one behaving like one."
Although Marian was moved, his words concerned her. "Is that a dying confession?" she asked.
"No. A living one. I'll get us out of here."
Thinking and praying as hard as he could, Robin found hope when Much arrived, hurrying down the dungeon steps so quickly he nearly tripped and fell.
"Ugh!" he cried out, grimacing. "It stinks!"
"Much!" Robin called. " Another answer to my prayers, again! Hurry! Tell Will the moat's backed up on us! Tell him to reverse its flow!"
"Before, or after I give you the keys to your cells?"
Holding the keys triumphantly above his head, Much grinned, enjoying Robin and Marian's grateful smiles and cries of thanksgiving.
"After!" Robin declared. "Get Marian out, NOW!"
"Robin, how? The lock's under the...under the...oh! This is revolting!"
"Give me the keys," Robin commanded, knowing it would be up to him to unlock his cell so he could unlock hers.
"Catch," Much told him, tossing them at his friend. "Sorry! If they'd been your sword, my aim would have been perfect!"
The keys had fallen far too short, and even though Robin dove for them, they sank slowly and disappeared beneath the filthy sludge.
In an instant, Robin disappeared as well, diving to retrieve them. After a few thwarted attempts, he finally emerged from under the sludge, covered in slime, but holding the key ring above his head.
"Which key?" he wondered, before diving back under again.
"Don't worry, Marian," Much counselled, worried enough for both of them. "Robin's more fit than anyone I know! He can hold his breath for hours!"
She knew he was exaggerating, but she clung to hope as well. If anyone could save them, it would be Robin.
"Go," she told Much. "Tell Will, just as Robin told you to. One way or another, we're getting out of here."
"Yes! Of course! Will! What am I supposed to tell him, again?"
At that precise moment, Robin's head appeared outside his cell. He'd found the right key, and unlocked his door, and was swimming toward Marian's cell as quickly as a man could move, with a wounded leg, through thick sludge. Taking a deep breath, he disappeared once again under the sludge.
"You're almost free!" Much cried, excitedly. "I knew it, Marian! I knew Robin could do it!"
Marian was almost crying, she was so glad.
"And wait until you hear what else we found buried where the moat used to be," Much told her.
"My earrings?" she asked.
"Bigger," Much told her. "Much bigger. A body! Well, what used to be a body. A skeleton, a big one. Everybody's saying it's...it's Gisbourne."
"Guy?" The name had slipped out, and Marian was glad Robin was still under the muck, so he hadn't heard.
She felt a wave of varied emotions at the news, disbelief, relief, and a touch of unexplained...not exactly sorrow, but regret. What a terrible place for any person to rest! Guy had lived, committing horrible, cruel, shameful acts, but she'd never given up hope that he might change, and choose good over evil. If it were truly his remains, he'd died in shame as well.
"The...the skeleton's his size, and very few people are that big," Much told her. "Were that big," he amended. "And I must say, I am relieved. Wait until I tell Robin!"
Just then Robin's head reappeared, just beside Marian. Throwing her arms around his neck, she hugged him, filled with love, gratitude, and unspeakable joy.
"I'm sorry, but we have to go under," Robin told her, grinning. "Hold onto me, and don't breathe. We're getting out of here, Marian. Ready?"