Chapter 3
Lethal Oblivion
Dawn broke, all a flame of gold and crimson, but it didn't bring any joy to the Crusaders who were still shocked by the recent events. The silence of death that lay over the Crusaders' camp was appalling. Sir Robert de Beaumont, the Earl of Leicester, found King Richard in the second tent; he reported that the physician had finished tending to Robin's wound. Richard returned to the tent where he usually slept and where Robin had saved him.
"We should carry Captain Locksley to his tent," Doctor Raoul said. "Be very careful."
"He can rest there." The King looked at the makeshift bed in the opposite part of the tent.
"He will moan in pain and will disturb you, milord," Raoul blurted out.
The King gave the doctor a cold glance. "Robin won't distract us. Soon we will move him to his tent. As you said, he must be treated with utmost caution to let his wound heal."
The King nodded at Leicester, and Leicester nodded back, which was a signal for action.
"As you command, milord," Robert intervened, trying to finish an awkward argument.
The Crusaders weren't astonished. For Richard, it was a simple act of gratitude, for others – a relief that they could avoid taking additional risk of causing damage to the patient. Moving Robin after cauterization and hours of stitching the wound could result in the torn stitches and aggravated wound that could be downgraded to lethal.
"How is Robin now?" King Richard questioned.
The physician bowed to Richard. "The Earl of Huntingdon survived cauterization. Actually, the situation is not as bad as it seemed at the beginning. It is a sheer luck that the blade missed his heart and lungs. Nevertheless, he may die from blood loss or infection."
"Will he have a fever?" Robert asked.
"Yes, he will. He will be feverish soon," the physician confirmed.
"Is Robin in danger of infection?" Legrand's booming voice resonated.
Raoul's brows creased into a deep furrow. "Infection is already spreading in his body."
"Do something to stop it. You must help him," Roger insisted.
The physician shrugged. "I did everything I could to draw the infection away. I bandaged the wound. If he hadn't strained his body so much after he had been injured, he wouldn't have been in such a bad state now." He stared at Richard, embarrassed and frightened. "I beg my pardon, my liege. I speak out of turn," he told the King.
If Richard was displeased, he didn't show it. "You speak the truth. It is of no consequence."
A long, oppressing silence stretched between them.
Roger stared at Robin. "Robin is so pale."
James rubbed his forehead to relieve a slight knot of tension. "Like a ghost."
"I have never seen our Captain so white," Aubrey agreed.
"Deathly pale," Legrand interjected.
"Lord Locksley is pale because he lost much blood." The physician cleared his throat. "He is a strong young man, but his injury is dangerous and he may not live through the night."
"Robin was stabbed inside the tent, in the fight," Legrand said, his eyes scanning the floor with pools of blood. "Did he indeed lose so much blood?"
The physician nodded. "Yes, he did."
"My Master wasn't injured during the fight," Much enlightened. "He was shooting arrows outside when he was stabbed from the back. He didn't see the assassin. When I came to him, he ordered me to raise alarm and get help to the King's tent. Then he ran to the King's tent."
The King raised a brow. "Captain Locksley fought with this wound, didn't he?"
Much gave a nod. "Yes, he did, milord."
"As always heroic," Legrand commented.
"Robin does incredible things," Robert said.
James half smiled. "I'm not astonished because Robin is Robin."
"Robin is a unique man," Roger stated.
Richard let his lips curve ever so slightly. "Captain Locksley demonstrated great courage and strength."
"My Master must live. He cannot die," Much whispered.
"Much, you love your Master so much, don't you?" Richard questioned mildly. His face was expressionless as he rarely gave his emotions free reign.
Much shook his head. "We grew up together. He is like my brother. I love him so much. If he dies, I will also die." He sighed. "I will do everything for him. I'm ready to give him my life."
Richard smiled. "He will live. He is a fighter and a survivor."
"Robin will be alright, Much," Robert allayed. "Soon he will be up, teasing and mocking you."
"Shutting you up," Legrand added.
James smiled. "Indeed."
Roger forced a smile. "Every day you will have to endure Robin's naughtiness, Much."
"Let him shut me up! Let him tease me! Let him beat me! Let him kill me!" Much prattled. "But let him live! He must live!"
Robert, who stood near Much, pulled Much into a short hug. "He will live," he said as he drew back. "He will need you a lot. Calm down, Much." Then he stepped away.
"Who, if not you, will nurse him back to life? Only you, Much, may tolerate him for longer than his whole life," Aubrey said jestingly.
"He may be very infuriating," Robert agreed, a smile hovering over his lips.
"As well as very self-assured," Legrand added.
"Self-assured?" Roger raised a brow and broke into a soft laugh. "Always."
Aubrey grinned. "And it is not too bad."
"Robin is so full of himself." Robert rolled his eyes.
"And so are you, Lord Leicester," the King remarked, his eyes kind.
"I don't deny that." Robert smiled, his eyes sparkling with imps of mischief. "I bet our men love Robin and me for our self-assurance and leadership most of all. But Robin bosses more than I do, and the guards still love and praise him. If I want my men in the Second Column to love me more, I will boss a lot more."
The Crusaders laughed at Leicester's joke. A faint smile tugged at the King's lips.
Much didn't laugh. Robin's sickness and helplessness made his heart gallop. He was concerned that he would have to leave his Master in the King's tent. He wanted to take care of Robin. He was the only one who could nurse Robin back to heath. In their childhood, Much had always nursed Robin when he had been sick. Robin didn't thank him and took it for granted, but Much wasn't offended. He loved his master and did everything to please him.
"I'm sorry, but I don't want to leave my Master's side," Much declared, his eyes pleading.
The Crusaders smiled at Much. They were often irritated with his constant grumbling and babbling something about better food and climate. Like Robin, they often threw at him that he had to shut up. They also knew that he was a good man. They admired Much for his devotion and loyalty to Robin. It wasn't common for a servant to care so much for his Master.
"Much, you have our permission to stay with Robin here. However, we don't need to have a crowd here. In the daytime, one of you may stay with Robin and Much. In the nighttime, only Much will be with Robin," the King announced. "Others may visit from time to time."
Much blushed. The King was truly a good man, he thought. Robin loved the King. The King loved Robin. Much loved Robin. Thus, Much loved the King. "Thank you, sire."
King Richard signaled the physician to approach him. The King wanted to talk to him in private. They stepped aside, to the corner of the tent.
Richard stared at the physician. His gaze was impenetrable, but the thin line of his lips revealed tension. "Raoul, tell us the truth. Does Captain Locksley have a chance to survive?"
"Captain Locksley's condition is very bad. The situation is nearly grave, but not as grave as I thought at the beginning," Raoul said mournfully. "Locksley lost too much blood. Fever and infection might take his life, but he has a slim chance to pull through. But he might die even tonight. I have seen many men dying from less serious wounds." He emitted a heavy, audible sigh. "I'm sorry, milord. I did everything I could, but I'm not God."
The King nodded. "Thank you for your candidness, Raoul." He was going to pray for Robin's recovery.
ææææææ
After he had been detained, the Saracen assassin was carried by the guards into the prison in the southern part of the camp, near the walls of Acre. Guy of Gisborne was thrown on a straw mattress in the darkest corner of the cell. Despite his bleeding wounds and unconscious state, he was also bound with iron chains to the stone wall; his wrists and ankles were shackled.
Doctor Matthew Béliveau, one of many physicians who worked in the hospital in the camp, came to Guy to tend to his wounds. He was an old Norman man, tall and vigorous, with long white hair falling on either side of a stern face. The wrinkles in his face declared his age; yet, there was a flash in his eye which said that he had lost none of his energy.
The doctor ordered to undress the captive up to his waist in order to inspect the injuries. When the upper part of Guy's body was stripped off the clothes, the doctor was amazed to see his pale skin instead of swarthy skin. As soon as the black mask and the black turban were removed, the doctor gasped in horror, realizing that the assassin was not the Saracen but a disguised Christian man. The unexpected revelation resulted in commotion in the Crusaders' camp. The guards were shouting something and gesturing wildly, pointing to the cell where the disguised Saracen was placed. Guy was nicknamed the masked Saracen.
Accompanied by at least ten guards, King Richard appeared in the prison, intending to look at the assassin without a mask. By that time, they had already uncovered Guy's secret, and Richard was merely informed about the findings. For a long time, Richard stood next to Guy in the deathly silence and the oppressive darkness of the cell, watching him with angry eyes narrowed to slits; he barked an order to guard the prisoner heavily, and then he left.
The King's would-be assassin was a tall, muscular, handsome man, with pale skin, steel blue eyes, and thick raven hair. He looked relatively young, between thirty and thirty-five years old. His facial features and soft skin on his hands pointed at his noble station. As the man was undressed, they had a chance to see that he could be a knight as there were many old and new scars on his chest. They were clueless who he was in reality and why he tried to take King Richard's life.
The masked Saracen lost much blood and was barely alive after Robin had injured him twice during the fight. The physician took care of Guy: his wound on the forearm was cleaned and bandaged; the deep wound on his right side was cauterized to stop the bleeding. He was wrapped in the warm blanket and was supplied with one pillow to give him a small comfort. As they wanted to keep the mysterious assassin alive, the King permitted the doctor to examine Guy regularly.
King Richard needed the masked Saracen alive only because they intended to interrogate him after his awakening. If he outlived his usefulness or if he refused to talk, the King planned to execute him for high treason. Richard was ready to wait until the assassin recovered; then he could order to put him to the rack to get his confession.
The King of England and the Crusaders were in the King's second tent. They had much to discuss. They had already seen the assassin and were as puzzled as Richard himself was.
"Milord, will the captured criminal live?" Robert de Beaumont, the Earl of Leicester, asked.
Richard sat in the high-back chair with luxurious red velvet upholstery. His eyes were at the maps that lay on the table in front of him; he didn't look at the Crusaders."The disguised Saracen is gravely wounded. He may die from his injuries. He lost much blood and is already feverish. The physician did everything to save him." He raised his head, his gaze hard. "This wretched man should live. We must learn who he is and why he wants me dead."
"We are lucky that Robin wounded him. We could blame Saladin for this raid," James said.
"Make sure the physician regularly tends to his wounds," Richard instructed James. "We must do everything to keep him alive. He cannot die before we interrogate him."
"I will take care of everything, my liege," James obeyed.
"James, you will lead the Private Guard as long as Robin is recovering. You have many things to do." The King commanded.
"It is a great honor, sire." A brief smile crossed James' face, then faded away.
"Legrand," the King began, "make sure that the prisoner is heavily guarded. Two guards must always stay inside the cell, five men – outside the cell. We don't want him to flee when he feels better, of course, if he survives." His voice was sharp.
Legrand inclined his head. "Yes, sire."
"Legrand, focus on guarding the prisoner. You are free from other duties," the King added.
"My lord, I'm at your service," Legrand told the King, bowing his head.
"Don't fail us, Legrand." Richard gestured with his chin for Aubrey and Roger. "Contact our spies in England and in France. Gather detailed information about all the possible secret plots against us."
Roger nodded. "Yes, my lord."
"At your service," Aubrey joined.
"Roger, you will go to England. We need a detailed report about my brother's activities in the kingdom in our absence." Now the King's voice was weary.
"As you command, sire," Roger said.
Richard was silent as he contemplated the situation. He tapped his chin and then glanced at the Earl of Oxford. "You, Aubrey, must contact our spies at King Philippe's court. The French might have had a finger in a pie." He sighed. "We have heard alarming news from England. William de Longchamp lost his position of Lord Chancellor. You know that he has never been in John's favor. He was deposed and had to flee England in disguise."
William de Longchamp used to be Lord Chancellor of England. He enjoyed King Richard's trust and highest favor, but he was despised by Prince John. King Richard had charged him with the governorship of England while he was on the Crusade. His authority had been challenged by Prince John, who had succeeded in driving de Longchamp from power and England.
A heavy silence pressed over them. The King's announcement disheartened everyone.
"It doesn't look good," Roger said quietly. "But it is easy to explain."
Legrand's face fell at the news. "Poor de Longchamp."
"We are not pleased with the news," the King continued. "Contact de Longchamp. He should be in Normandy now. He may know something interesting."
Aubrey nodded. "De Longchamp can definitely help us."
The King sighed. "Aubrey, we are sending you as a messenger to Normandy. You are leaving in two days." As he saw the Earl of Oxford's bewilderment, he elaborated. "De Longchamp has a complete picture of the situation in England. If there are any treacherous alliances in England, he surely knows about them. He also knows what is going on in France."
"Now I understand, milord," Aubrey assured.
"Very well then." The King waved his head, dismissing his subjects.
The King's ire rose to the peak as he analyzed the situation. He had to find out who wished to take his life in Acre and why. Robin foiled the last regicide attempt, and they captured the Saracen so that they would probably be able to uncover the plot. Many Saracens tried to kill King Richard, and the Private Guard thwarted their plots, but no European man dared attempt regicide on the King of England's life in the Holy Land.
The regicide could have been arranged by many people. The captured Christian assassin could have been sent by Richard's enemies – King Philippe II of France, Duke Leopold of Austria, or even Prince John Lackland, Count of Mortain, the youngest of Queen Eleanor of Aquitaine's sons. The thought that Richard's own subjects might have tried to murder him sent the King to the brink of insanity. Richard had to consider all options, and he didn't exclude that his younger brother could have plotted against him.
King Richard was worried about Robin. He frantically prayed for Robin's recovery. Several times, Robin had nearly given his own life to save his King, and Richard would never forget about that. He couldn't lose Robin, his close friend, his most loyal subject and one of his most skilled soldiers. He valued and loved him the most among all his knights.
Before Robin's suspicions were confirmed, Richard had considered sending Robin back to England with commendation to speed up his recovery. Now he doubted that it was the right course of action. At first, they had to learn the identity of the disguised Saracen. If it was John's plot, it would dramatically change the situation and affected not only the King's safety but also Robin's.
The recent Saracen raid had the unprecedented results, and King Richard had to investigate plots against him. But nobody knew that the Saracen raid brought an old personal conflict into the light. Robin was about to meet the acting overlord of his lands in England, the Black Knight, and his sworn enemy since childhood. Robin and Guy were the King's loyal favorite and a king-killing traitor, and they had nothing in common, apart from their sad past. Yet, their paths intercepted again in the most dramatic way; perhaps, it happened for a reason.
ææææææ
Ten days passed since the Saracen attack. It was the end of November, but the weather was unusually warm, with only a slight touch of winter in the air. A thin, persistent drizzle began to fall and could soak everything in sight.
In the Crusaders' camp, there was a significant change in the atmosphere: no new attacks were planned, and everyone was cautious and tongue-tied after the failed regicide. The guards were worried about Captain Locksley's fate and discussed the captured masked Saracen. Partly as a protection against possible new assassination attempts on the King's life, the security procedures were toughened and the Guard was always on high alert.
Those who were close to the King guessed who was behind the thwarted regicide attempt. Sir Roger of Stoke and Sir James of Kent suspected King Philippe II of France of hiring the assassins, stating that Philippe had begun considering Richard his enemy after the Lionheart had broken his betrothal to Phillip's sister, Princess Alys, and had married Berengaria of Navarre. Another reason for Philippe's willingness to conspire against Richard was his old dream to destroy the Angevin Empire by annexing Normandy and some other territories into France's hands.
Philippe was prone to secret plotting and backstabbing in the most cunning ways, and it was indeed possible that he could wish Richard's death. But Richard doubted that it was Philippe of France. After all, Philippe left Acre only recently and had many important deals in France after his long absence. The King suspected that Prince John wanted to murder his absent brother. Richard doubted the fealty John had sworn to him on the day of his coronation, for John had fickle nature and was too ambitious to be satisfied with his position; he expected that John would begin plotting against him sooner or later.
Richard knew that John had secretly dreamt of accumulating military and political power in England and of becoming the King. Their father, King Henry II of England, had also wanted John to ascend the throne after his death, but he had been cornered at Chinon by the joint military forces of Richard and Philippe, his French ally, and, thus, had agreed to complete surrender, recognizing Richard as his heir and agreeing to pay Philippe huge compensation.
The outrageous exile of Sir William de Longchamp from England proved that Richard's train of thought was going in the right direction. John even set himself as an alternative ruler with his own royal court and enjoyed being portrayed as a regent in Richard's absence. Apparently, John wasn't fond of being surrounded by Richard's staunch supporters and counselors, so he did everything to get rid of them. John didn't need Richard to return to England from the Holy Land, probably wishing him to be killed by the Saracen arrow.
Richard wrote a long letter to his mother Queen Eleanor in Aquitaine in emotional tones, describing the tragic events and the discovered truths about the disguised Saracen. The message to the Queen Mother was carried by Sir Aubrey de Vere, the Earl of Oxford, one of the lion's most trusted guards. Sir Roger of Stoke departed to England to investigate the situation there, with an accent on the moods of nobles and the taxation system.
The King's favorite was still barely alive in Richard's tent; they waited for several days before moving Robin to his own tent. Robin was lucky to survive through the first, critical night after the attack, and everyone rejoiced. But, by the end of the next day, Robin contracted a high fever. But they hoped that it would pass in several days and Robin was a young and healthy man. In four days, Robin was carried into his own tent, with great caution and utmost care.
The King's personal physician said that Robin's chances to survive were slim. Later, in the night hours, Robin's condition worsened. Serious symptoms of continuously developing infection emerged: redness and swelling of the wound increased, fever intensified, and the temperature of his body skyrocketed. Robin sank into a dark oblivion that threatened to claim his life. Fever was ravaging his body, draining more and more of his strength out of him.
Soon Robin started suffering from pains in his left side, which were most horrible in the night hours. The young Captain struggled with pain and quietly moaned, but tears in the corners of his closed eyes betrayed that the pain was too great to bear. Doctor Raoul attributed the pains to the inflammation in the wound and treated the wound with special herbs. He gave Robin some pain relieving pills and calming draught, which helped Robin fall asleep.
But at times nothing could help Robin who withered in pain after being given a small doze of painkillers; his gasps of pain filled Much and Leicester with fear for Robin's life. Once Much rushed to Doctor Raoul and demanded to provide him with more painkillers for Robin; yet, the man said he had few pills left and there were also other patients, but he promised to give Robin the pills next night. Much protested and complained, but the doctor only shook his head. Eventually, the Earl of Leicester punched the physician into his nose. All of them believed that Robin wouldn't benefit from tolerating much pain.
Next morning, the outraged Earl of Leicester ran straight to the King's tent and interrupted Richard's meeting with Lord Walter Sheridan and Lord Andre de Chauvigny, one of the King's chief generals. He bowed to the King and apologized hastily, in a shaking voice. Richard gave him a hard glare, ready to reprimand his grand favorite, but Leicester said only one word – Robin; it was enough for the lion to dismiss all his generals.
The King saw that the Earl of Leicester looked worried, and the feeling of unease stirred in his gut. Leicester condemned the physician for his unwillingness to properly treat Robin on the back of the man's determination to save pills and herbs for other soldiers; he complained that Robin had to endure dreadful pain, which weakened and tormented him. Leicester even accused the doctor of cruelty and inhumanity as the man witnessed Robin's torments on several occasions and still refused to give the necessary medicine.
The news drew a gasp of mingled amusement and rage from King Richard, and his face changed into a white rage. The King immediately summoned the royal physician for an audience. Speaking in a harsh, cold and threatening voice, he ordered to provide Robin with as many pain-relieving pills as necessary. Raoul muttered that he didn't have enough painkillers for all soldiers, and that was the reason why he reduced the dose for Robin. Giving the man a fierce glare, Richard cut him off sharply and gave vent to an angry outburst, fuming and cursing for several minutes. He pointed out that Robin was the Captain of the Private Guard and had a privileged position at the war court.
Embarrassed and frightened, the doctor begged the King for forgiveness on his knees. He pledged to never object to Robin's squire and Robin's friends and swore to present them with pills and herbs at the first request. The King nodded in agreement and said that others could wait if Robin needed the doctor's attention; he assured that they would buy everything Robin needed to assure his recovery, at any price and in any quantity. Robin was too important for the King to lose him.
At Richard's order, the physician's tent was moved to the new location – right near Robin's tent. Now the medic could visit Robin every hour or immediately in case of need. True to his promise, Raoul provided Much generously with everything he needed to alleviate Robin's pain that especially troubled the young lord in the night hours.
ææææææ
As days were passing quickly, Robin's fever didn't break yet. Robin was tossing and turning in the bed, moaning quietly in pain from his injury and screaming in terror if he was seized by a powerful nightmare. At times, they had to restrain Robin not to let him hurt himself.
Much was always with Robin, never leaving his master's side and spending countless hours near the wounded knight, trying to do everything, possible and impossible, to ease his sufferings. Robert de Beaumont, the Earl of Leicester, spent three nights together with Much, in Robin's tent, refusing to leave for his own tent in fear that Robin could die without him at his side. Many Robin's friends and comrades wanted to visit their feverish Captain, but very few of them – only Robin's closest friends – were allowed to come; those people came every day, but only for a brief time.
King Richard visited his favorite at least one time in a day; he always came in the evening, when he was free from his kingly duties. The King asked Much to come to him for a short audience every day to inform him about Robin's condition. He also spoke with his physician, hoping to hear words of hope but received only words of consolation and advice to be ready to give Robin a proper Christian burial.
By the end of the first week, the King's physician gave a grim verdict that Robin would not survive. Yet, despite the recommendation to accept the inevitability of Robin's tragic death, Much and the Earl of Leicester refused to believe in that. Much devoted all his time to Robin, while Leicester had to return to his duties and now spent less time with Robin. The thought of Robin's death crossed the King's mind briefly but the monarch dismissed it; yet, he started visiting his favorite twice per day, and once stayed half of the night with Much and Leicester.
Richard ordered Doctor Raoul to do everything to save Robin, but the man said that at that stage only God could spare Robin's life. The King invited three other competent doctors, who examined Robin and tended to his wound, but their opinion was the same. Nevertheless, Richard's orders were to continue doing everything to save Robin and not to give up on him, even if the case seemed hopeless.
Darkness reigned over the King's camp, despite many torches that flickered brightly in the cold air, like intermittent red stars. The rain which had been falling all night and for most of the morning ceased abruptly, giving way to a wide, sweeping canvas of the dark night sky.
Waking in the middle of the night to find himself on the woolen rug near the bed, Much thought at first that he must be dreaming. He opened his eyes and shook his head. Everything around him was spinning, his vision was blurred. Much could not help trying to shake off the nightmare but, little by little, it dawned on him that it was real and that he still was in the Holy Land, in Robin's tent, near the bed where his sick master rested during the last days.
Much spent the whole day half asleep, sitting in the chair near Robin's bed or on the edge of the bed. He was tired beyond measure, his body ached. He didn't sleep well since Robin had been injured; he often was so exhausted that his limbs refused to obey him. The hours slipped away, and it was long past midnight when sleep eventually claimed the loyal manservant. Much even didn't notice that he had fallen asleep on the rug near the bed.
Will great effort and slowly, Much scrambled to his feet and stretched his cramped and stiffened back, waking his rigid muscles. Much blinked and rubbed his eyes, his gaze focusing on Robin who lay on the large wooden bed, covered with white silk sheets up to his chin. Much touched Robin's cheek and gasped, thinking that Robin's skin was as hot as the sand under the blazing sun.
Much removed the sheet from Robin, his eyes taking in the dreadful picture: Robin's abnormally thin body, almost skin and bones, his body looked even more emaciated after the long war and the toll fever had on him. Much tried to force-feed Robin by throwing down his master's throat hot bullion, and Robin swallowed it, but it was not enough to compensate for the patient's fading strength.
Much fixed on the bandage below Robin's chest, on his left side. He gasped for air and shuddered in horror at the sight of the bandage soaked with blood that was slowly flowing out of the wound. Much let out a sequence of the most unintelligible words he had ever said in his simple life, cursing himself for his recklessness and for falling asleep. The stitches were torn open and the wound was bleeding began, which meant that Robin was seriously distressed by his fever dreams, moving violently across the bed and straining his body. Much was so deeply sleep that he didn't hear Robin's moans.
Much trembled, his throat constricted. "No, Master! You will not die! You will not die!" he cried out in both anguish and anger. With a half-frightened and half-angry look, he leaned down, his face in inches from Robin's. "You heard me correctly. You will not die. If you die, I will die, too, and I'm too young to die. I don't want us to be buried in the desert; I hate all the sand around us."
The manservant knew that he had to fetch King Richard's personal physician. Not wasting precious time, he turned on his heel and ran towards the physician's tent, praying that he would find the doctor there. Fortunately, Doctor Raoul was in his tent when Much stormed there, his expression agonized and panic-stricken, tears streaming down his cheeks. Struggling to steady the wild beating of his heart, the loyal servant stood before the physician and whimpered that Robin had needed urgent help.
Raoul hurried to Robin's tent. He tended to the wound; he took care to stop the bleeding, using some special blood-stanching herbs, then stitched it again. After Doctor Raoul had left, Much took a bowl of lukewarm water and drew the sheet from Robin's body; he washed Robin's chest, arms, and legs, removing dry blood and sweating from Robin's skin. He covered the young lord with a fresh silk sheet.
Much shot Robin a tender look of longing, and then seated himself in the chair. He started rocking the chair back and forth, staring at Robin with big blue eyes full of despair, tiny tears oozing in the corners of his eyes. He laid his ear to Robin's chest, listening for some flicker of life, some promise of vitality again. He sensed a slight yet rhythmic pulsing there and detected a faint breath, and so vast gratitude and love engulfed him that for a moment all grew shaken and unreal. His face somber and weary, he watched the chest of his master rise and fall. Unconscious, lithe, feverish, Robin lay within his clasp, not dead yet, and Much had hope. Only hope filled his soul, and nothing else mattered now.
Much struggled to control himself. "Master Robin!" he cried out. "You will live!"
For a while, Much sat in silence, looking at Robin, as if waiting that his master would open his eyes. At last Robin's eyelids twitched, then opened, and his dazed eyes stared at his manservant. Robin let out a scream and then muttered something about bloodshed under his breath, drowning in the stupendous chill nightmare. Then Robin tried to struggle up but only doubled with pain that shot through his side.
"Marian," Robin chokingly called the name of his former betrothed.
Much restrained his master when Robin again attempted to pull himself into a sitting position. The dying man continued calling Marian, asking her to guide him to Heaven, and Much listened, fat tears trickling down his cheeks. As sometimes happens in the crises of life, the first spoken word is about someone who means a lot in life, and Robin spoke about Marian. At that moment, Much realized that his master hadn't gotten over Marian, and he wished that now she could have been by Robin's side.
"Master Robin, you must survive for Marian," Much said in a trembling voice. "You cannot die."
As he finally calmed, Robin stretched a tremulous hand to Much, and the servant took it in his own. Robin whispered the name of his former fiancée again, probably thinking that Marian was with him instead of Much, so he instinctively extended his hand to her, wishing to touch her and feel her close. Much squeezed his master's hand, trying to provide moral support for his beloved Robin and praying that he would survive. He knew he could not ask for greater joy than Robin's recovery and their return to England, to Locksley, and obviously to Marian.
It was mainly a Robin-centric chapter. Robin is suffering from his grave wound, but he is clinging to life. In 1x02, Much told Marian that in the Holy Land Robin had dreams and called Marian, so I used that in my story. In the next chapter, you will learn what happened to Guy.