The Storyteller

Chapter 12: A Rescue

It was bordering on darkness by the time Robin stumbled back into the camp. Much shifted from his position as watchman near the edge of the campsite. “Is he....” he tried to ask,

“Dead? Hah!” Robin let out a tired laugh. “I have no intention of killing him Much, not now. Here,” He tossed much the little vile.

Much caught it, staring at the empty thing. His mouth was set in a grim line. “You're torturing him.”

“No less than what he deserves. Makes me wish I had thought to do it the last time he shared our hospitality.”Robin smiled.

“It's wrong. We do not torture.” Much shook his head.

Robin sat down, his back against the trunk of the tree. He heaved a sigh and stared off into the forest with glowering eyes, “Do not lecture me, Much.”

“Why?” Much said standing over him, “Someone has to!”

“Gisborne deserves it. You know it.” Robin growled.

“No, he deserves to be hanged like the traitor and murderer that he is. Hanged in the middle of Nottingham so that everyone will know, and not just you and me and the rest of the gang! You kill him, and no one knows. No one will know what he did to Marian.” Much ranted.

“I know what he did to Marian! I do not care, anymore Much. Marian would still be alive if it wasn't for him....if I had gotten their sooner. If I hadn't been...he deserves this Much! I have to do this!” There were tears trailing down Robin's face, and Much realized that they had been there all along.

“Come on, Master.” Much tried to get him to his feet. “You need rest. A clear head will help you...”

Robin sprang upright, shoving Much away from him, “Shut up, Much.” he snapped, “I'm thinking far more clearly than ever before and I do not need you to tell me otherwise.” He turned and walked back to the camp alone.

Much sighed, still clutching the vile in his hands. He threw it against the tree in anger. The vile smashed and shards of it sprinkled the ground. He wasn't denying the fact that Guy deserved to die, nor was he denying Robin's claims to take his life, but the Robin he once knew would have believed in justice. He would have waited for the King to return; waiting to have both the Sheriff and Gisborne stand trial and hang for what they have done. This was not right. This torture, this madness, it was consuming Robin alive. He was losing his best friend, and the gang was losing their leader.

***

“Will you stop pacing the stones off of the floor, Kathy and come to bed?!” Garrett said in exasperation.

“You can not find this normal!” Katherine said thin-lipped as she finally climbed into bed alongside her husband.

“I find that whatever your brother does to be highly abnormal. Do not worry.” Garrett replied, placing an arm about her waist.

“I do not like it. I haven't seen him since this morning.” Katherine said softly.

“And no doubt some business has carried him away from the Castle. Honestly, Kathy, he is not a child, and you are not the older sibling. It is not your responsibility to know of his whereabout at all times.” Garrett chuckled, kissing her forehead.

She sighed. “You're right. I...I just do not know what else to do. I want to explain things, to help him, but...”

Garrett put a finger to her lips, hushing her, “You can not help someone who does not want it. Give him time, love. Give him time.”

***

Allan couldn't sleep. He rolled over to one side in his bunk, closed his eyes only to find them open again a moment later. He rolled over again, closed eyes; opened them. He gave a disgruntled sigh and rolled onto his back, staring up at the cover of their concealed camp. Robin had come back haggard and wild. He hadn't like the crazed, satisfied look in his eyes, nor the grim look upon Much's face, but neither said a word. They merely took their places by their own bunks; it had been late and the others hadn't raised any concerns. Little John seemed oddly pleased, a small smile of grim satisfaction painted his face for a moment. Will showed nothing beyond the quick glance to his wife, who had looked distinctly pale at whatever silent message had been passed by her husband's glances.