"Robin, HELP!"
In an instant, Robin seized his bow and nocked an arrow to it, aiming out his window at the soldier most closely trailing Much's galloping horse. Almost as quickly, Marian grabbed her sword and unsheathed its blade.
"Put it back, Marian," Robin ordered his wife, without taking his eyes from the soldier closing in on Much. "Let me handle this."
"Let me help you," she insisted, stubbornly.
There wasn't time to argue, for Much had reached Locksley Manor, and had fallen off his horse, so great was his rush to get inside the house and out of danger.
"Much, bolt the door!" Robin called urgently down to his friend from his vantage point at his upstairs window.
But Much wasn't quick enough. Several soldiers followed him into the manor, and then, to everyone's surprise, Queen Isabella swept in as well, looking beautiful yet lethal, wrapped in a fur-trimmed mantle.
"Stay here," Robin ordered Marian, knowing he was wasting his breath.
Robin stepped from their bedchamber and stood on the upstairs landing, holding his bow in position to shoot. His smug smile at seeing the soldiers back away disappeared off his face, when he felt Marian join him on the landing. He made a quick mental note he ought to install a lock on the outside of their bedroom door, then scoffed it off, picturing Marian, heavy with child, climbing down a rope suspended from their window, with a dagger between her teeth.
"Now, Much," Robin said, the threat of danger in his voice matching the hard look in his eyes, "you know you're always welcome here at Locksley any hour of the day or night. But tell me, why did you bring along such vile company?"
"They want to...they want to cut out my tongue!"
So saying, Much shut his mouth so tightly, he looked as if he'd swallowed his lips.
"That is barbaric!" Marian scolded.
"One might even say, 'revolting,' " Robin added, slowly beginning to descend his staircase. "But don't worry, Much. I, for one, am not about to let them."
"Nor am I," Marian announced, brandishing her sword as she followed at her husband's heels.
"Go back upstairs, Marian," Robin ordered her, quiet but forceful.
"Robin, we're a team," she told him, refusing to obey.
"I don't need two people I love, in danger!"
"Do you really think I'll fold my hands and wait quietly upstairs, leaving you to face her all alone?"
He knew it was hopeless. Now he really would need to protect both Much, and his lovely, but obstinate, wife.
Isabella stepped in front of her soldiers, snapping open and shut a pair of heavy iron shears before Much's terrified face.
While still on his steps, Robin fired an arrow, knocking the shears from her hands. Immediately, he nocked another arrow to his bow.
"I see you've lost none of your touch, Robin," Isabella sneered. "Prove to me you haven't, personally, and I'll let Pudgy go free."
"His name is Much."
"Yes, but Pudgy's so much more descriptive!"
"What do you want, Isabella?" Robin asked, coldly.
Rather than answering, she undid the pin holding her cloak closed, so that it dropped to the floor in a swirling mass around her ankles. Marian gasped at the sight of England's Queen, garbed in nothing but a clinging, revealing nightdress, the color of sea-foam, and one jewel...her own beloved emerald engagement ring.
Staring at Isabella's beauty, Marian couldn't help but contrast herself to the other trim, seductive woman, feeling herself ungainly and unattractive by comparison.
"If you insist upon shedding your skin, like the snake you are," Robin told the queen, smugly, "I suggest you do it outside, rather than in my hall."
"Did you hear about the fire in the orphanage?" Isabella asked him. "So sad, yet it took me back to another day, when there was a similar inferno here in your little village. Remember when my husband ordered your church burnt? Better still, remember what happened between us, after I helped you put it out? I never look at a fire without remembering the one we blazed together, Robin. Don't say you don't think upon it, too. Your smile right now...your intense gaze, speak volumes. You like my gown, don't you?"
"I'm only thinking how gorgeous someone else would look, draped in something like that," he answered, winking at his wife.
Nearly every pair of male eyes turned to stare appreciatively at Marian, causing her to blush, torn between feeling proud and being insulted.
"Sorry, my love," Robin told her. "I really couldn't help picturing that!"
"A fine sight she'd be," Isabella shrieked jealously, "with her chopped off hair and her bloated belly!"
"Yes, she would, and is," Robin agreed passionately, "even without the trapppings of such a gown. Tell me, does your husband know you're here, flaunting yourself before the eyes of his soldiers?" He snickered, mockingly. "King John can't like that!"
Before she could answer, Robin leaped at her and grabbed both her wrists in one hand.
"Unhand me, Locksley!" Isabella cried. "Guards! Seize him!"
Marian held out her sword, and Much withdrew his own from its sheath as well. The sole soldier who had taken a step toward Robin, now backed away.
With his free hand, Robin twisted Marian's ring off Isabella's finger, then smirked, "I found your earrings in the moat, and now, Wren, looks like I've got your ring back. Now, all I need to do is take back Maggie's false gems from Mistress Fitzhugh, and I'll be free and clear on the matter of jewelry."
"You dare humiliate me like this, Locksley?" Isabella shrieked. "Don't you know, this is just the beginning?"
"No, it's the end. Goodnight, Your Majesty," Robin said with mocking scorn, releasing her wrist. "My wife, as you can see, is an expectant mother, and therefore, needs her rest. It's late. I suggest you take your cowering soldiers from my house, and head back to the castle. And if you happen to travel further than Nottingham, and end up in another castle; say, the castle of Edinburgh, for example, no one in this shire will waste any tears, bidding you goodbye."
"I wouldn't!" Much agreed, then snapped his lips shut, in fear for his tongue.
Turning to face the soldiers, Robin ordered, "Get off my property, now. And take your poisonous mistress with you."
"This isn't finished, Locksley!" Isabella shrieked.
"Goodnight, Isabella," Robin smirked, grabbing her elbow and steering her out his door.
Once the queen and her soldiers were gone, Robin leaned against his door, then breathed out a relieved sigh. "Much, better stay here tonight."
"Yes! I will! Yes! She is revolting! Unbelievable! She was going to... to cut out my tongue!"
"That will never happen," Robin assured him. "I swear it, Much. You're safe, under my roof."
"Thank you! I always have been, you know. I only wish Eve knew I was safe."
"Someone really ought to tell her, Robin," Marian added.
"Agreed. But it won't be you, my love. You're supposed to be in bed, you know."
"You are, too, Robin," Marian reminded him.
"Any volunteers willing to head to Bonchurch?" Robin asked.
When Robin's manservant Thomas raised his hand, Much grew jealous. "Him!" he snorted. "Unbelievable! He does nothing all day to serve you, Robin, and now...! I hate show offs! I hate them!"
"Good man, Thomas," Robin said, casting an amused but warning glance Much's direction. "Come on," he added, slipping his arm around Marian's waist. "It's past time we were in bed again."
Grinning down at his beautiful wife, Robin wanted nothing more than to be alone with her again, so he could slip her ring back on her finger, in the privacy of their bedroom.