"Master? What are you doing in there? Shouldn't you come out now? Master?"
Much's anxious voice interrupted Robin's "conversation" with Martin of Aylesbury. Robin had been enclosed in Aylesbury's coach a good while, and he hadn't even taken any goods or money from him yet. He really did need to hurry, as there were sure to be other parties travelling this road any moment now. His gang had destroyed the bridge over the main road deliberately to reroute all carriages through the forest today. If he didn't hurry, his gang might be overtaken by a larger party travelling with guards. Too many guards.
But he wasn't ready to let Aylesbury go yet. He hadn't learned everything he needed to know.
"Robin?" Much called again.
They all heard the unmistakable sound of hoofbeats plodding toward them...a large number of hoofbeats. Robin needed to get his gang out of here and to safety. He didn't hesitate. In an instant, without thinking, he seized Martin from behind, holding his hunting knife to his throat, and pulled the surprised whimpering and weeping Aylesbury out of the carriage.
"What are ya doing?" Roy asked, still aiming an arrow at Aylesbury's guards. "We don't need a hostage!"
"He's coming with us," Robin insisted, fire in his eyes. "I haven't finished with him yet."
Much looked alarmed, Will confused, Allan amused, but Little John and Roy were angry.
As soon as Robin passed them, his men turned and fled after him into the cover of the forest.
Robin dragged, pushed, and pulled the pathetically crying man over deer paths and brambles, through shallow streams and over rough stones, up hills and down ravines, until they arrived at his temporary campsite. As soon as they arrived, Robin shoved Martin to the ground. They were both breathing heavily.
"What did you mean to go and bring him here for?" Roy asked again. "I thought we were supposed to rob him."
Robin didn't answer. He hardly knew why he'd grabbed Aylesbury himself. No, that wasn't true. He knew why, and he didn't like the reason.
He was jealous. Dangerously jealous. Jealous of an unworthy fool. An unworthy fool who had been kissed passionately by his Marian.
His own unfulfilled desire to kiss her was eating him up inside. Nearly every time they met, she treated him with anger and criticism. Where was his lovely girl? Where was his lovely girl who had certainly teased him, and debated him in the past, but who nonetheless had always cared for him? He missed his friend...he missed his love, possibly even more now than when he had been thousands of miles away from her.
Yet were they really so far apart now? It sometimes felt like it. It hurt. Yet there were glimpses...indications they were still of like mind. This whole Nightwatchman business he had just discovered...didn't that prove she was willing to risk all she had to help others, just as he was? And more personally, she had saved his life with the perfect aim of her hairpin when he was about to be shot. She had tried to free him from the dungeons. She had kneeled beside him in the grass with her bow, shooting Joe Lacey's arm just as he had! As hard as that moment was, in ways it had felt just like the old days. And there was more...
What had she said to him that night he had hidden in her castle bedchamber? His heart swelled and stopped and rushed whenever he remembered that night. Had she been naked under the bedclothes? She seemed to have been naked, looking so gorgeous with her hair flowing loosely over her beautiful bare shoulders. His mouth had gone dry, his heart had raced, and his body had responded, but she had been unruffled. She hadn't blushed or flinched, just calmly held the covers to her throat, remaining composed, with such dignity! Her care and concern for him seemed so strong that night! Her words...her eyes challenged him to honesty. And she had told him, in a soft, confiding, comforting way, that there were still people who loved him.
Had she meant herself? He doubted it. Probably out of respect for the memory of what they once had been to one another, she had said it to be kind...knowing, just as Vaisey knew, that was what he needed most in his life.
He stared at the wimpering form of Martin of Aylesbury now, and shook his head in disgust. Disgust for the weak, pathetic excuse for a man, the dandy who cared for his clothing above all else. Marian had given this weakling her lips, and possibly even the promise of her hand? Again, he asked himself, "Why?"
"Alright, Aylesbury," Robin continued, while his men stood out of earshot, but close enough to watch them narrowly, "Tell me the rest. I really want to hear how you came to be engaged to Marian. You were engaged to her, isn't that right?"
"You are everything the Sheriff claims you to be!" Martin cried, angry and afraid. "You are a violent killer! Take me to Nottingham, Hood! For I shan't call you 'Locksley' ever again!"
"I'll take you to Nottingham, once you tell me everything I need to know."
Much approached them, offering Aylesbury his flask. "Here, drink this," he said. Turning to Robin, he cried,"Master! What have you done? And what are you going to do with him?"
"I just want to talk."
"Why, Robin? He didn't marry her, you know! He has a wife! I know we heard the stories in the Holy Land, but..."
Robin's eyes glowed with an intensity that frightened Much. He couldn't answer his loyal friend. He couldn't even face his fear. If Marian had kissed this simpering fool Aylesbury, what was she doing now with Gisbourne?