In spite of her sorrow over Lambert's death, Marian couldn't help feeling exultant. She and Robin had come to an understanding, and her heart soared.
He hadn't actually said it, but she knew he loved her...had always loved her, just as deeply as she loved him. Somehow, everything was going to be alright, and they would be together.
She kept her distance from Gisbourne, enduring one brief, heated exchange with him over her not wearing her engagement ring, though it weighed down her hand once more. His thinly veiled threat toward her father kept it on her finger, like a ball and chain. But she didn't care. Robin was her present...her future...and she trusted that together, they would think of a way out of her dilemma.
He'd destroyed the barrels of black powder, and had told her he would burn Lambert's ledger for her, even though she knew he didn't want to. It was a matter of divided loyalties once again, pure and simple. Robin had agreed to sacrifice his loyalty to his promise to Lambert to preserve his work, along with his feeling of moral obligation toward protecting knowledge and progress, all because of her fear that the sheriff might get his grasping little hands on the work. And although Marian suffered a twinge of guilt over Robin's sacrifice, all in all, she slept better at night, believing the ledger no longer existed.
But as days dragged by into weeks, and she didn't see him, Marian began to doubt Robin's heart once again.
Why didn't he come? Of course, it was dangerous, to both of them, but that hadn't stopped him before! Where was he? Was he hurt, or ill? Or worse yet, captured?
Time dragged slowly on, and her hair grew longer, and still he didn't appear, not even when she rode Vesper through the forest, seeking him.
He didn't love her, after all. She'd been mistaken, once again. And just as she'd done years before, she cried silent, bitter tears into her pillow at night, until she was sick of feeling sorry for herself. Donning her Nightwatchman costume and her resolve, she ventured forth into the night to help others, blocking out her pain.
...
Missing Marian so much it physically hurt, Robin kept from her, though he secretly kept tabs on her safety and welfare.
Assured that she and her father continued free from harm, Robin remained busy, helping the poor by thwarting the sheriff.
He wasn't ready to face Marian, lest she ask him point-blank if he'd burned Lambert's ledger. He refused to lie to her, and even though he'd kept his promise by throwing it into the fire, he'd been secretly glad when he'd spied Djaq pulling it out. Greek Fire was definitely a double-edged sword, depending on who used it. Knowledge of it should exist, Robin felt certain, for it could be used for good as well as for evil. But his conscience smote him for only keeping his promise to Marian in technicality, not in fact.
Besides, he was preoccupied with his men, some of whom were beginning to get restless.
Much, always the same, had changed since he'd rejoined the gang. Believing himself in love with that girl...Eve, Robin thought her name was, Much moped about and was even more forgetful than ever.
Worse than that, Allan had taken to eating mushrooms again, and had passed along his habit to Little John. It was a method of escape, Robin knew, but a potentially dangerous one.
Robin fully understood his friends' need to escape...escape from boredom and from loss. Allan still grieved his brother's death, and John had almost lost it when he'd learned his wife and son were living with Luke the Bowmaker. But Robin knew mushrooms were not the answer.
"Alright men," he called to them. "Work to do."
Good works toward the people who needed them would help fill the void, Robin decided. Thank God Will and Djaq were smart enough to find their own healthy ways of coping.
"What work, Master?" Much asked, torn between eagerness and anxiety.
"The sheriff is up to something, and we need to find out what it is," Robin told his men, who had gathered around him.
"Want me to ask around, at the Trip?" Allan volunteered.
"The Trip?" Much exploded. "Unbelievable! You just want to get drunk and...and...I'm not saying anything!"
"Nobody's going to the Trip," Robin told them, "but we are heading to Nottingham."
"Get ready to be swarmed," Allan told Little John. "I'm not bein' funny, but every time we show our faces there, the mob comes out, with their hands out."
"Some of us will be passing out money, Allan," Robin told him. "Any volunteers for that job?"
"Me," Little John growled.
Robin noticed Will looking at Djaq, the young carpenter wanting to work alongside the pretty Saracen. But it wouldn't be safe, Robin felt. Nor would a pairing of Allan and John, not at this stage.
"Djaq, will you help him?" Robin asked. "I need Allan and Will with me."
"What about me?" Much asked anxiously. "Don't you need me, Master?"
"That goes without saying, my friend," Robin told him, flashing his winning grin. "Of course I need you!"
"Well, you might have said so!" Much complained, temporarily forgetting Eve in his pleasure.
"What will we do in Nottingham, Robin," Will asked, "while John and Djaq pass out money?"
Robin's grin widened. "We will be begging for it," he explained, cryptically, wearing the look Much always claimed meant Trouble.