Enemy of My Enemy

Chapter Four - Choices

Not like this. Never like this.

She was with him, and she would stay with him. Robin recalled his words to John of York: you can't sleep for thinking of her...you can't turn a corner without hoping she'll be there....

Having Marian come to the forest had been his dearest wish. Come and join my gang. How many times had he asked her?

But not this way.

It was helping John of York, that whole sorry business, which had led to Edward's death. He ran with Marian now through Nottingham, towards the appointed meeting place. Little John had gone on ahead. He must tell her, Robin knew, before they met up with the gang.

"Marian." He stopped, and gestured for her to follow him. He led her into a small alley, beyond which lay a courtyard strung with lines of washing.

"What is it?" she asked, catching her breath. "Robin, I need to find my father. Will he be with the others? He won't be able to return to..."

"Marian, shhh...." Robin held her arms, bowing his head a moment, himself struggling with Edward's death.

"Robin, what is it? You're scaring me. He is alright, isn't he......tell me that he is."

Slowly, Robin shook his head.

"Marian, I'm so sorry....."

"No....what are you saying? He is safe, he must be."

"We found him where you said, and we got him out of the castle. But the Canon of Birkley .... Marian," he said gently, "I'm so sorry, I wish..."

Marian shook free of him, and backed away. She paced up the alley, and then turned back towards him.

"No. Where is he? I must see him. Take me to him."

"I can't...the guards came and found him. They took his...him...back to the castle."

"And you just let them? How could you?"

He caught her then as her knees buckled. Her words tumbled out, frantic; behind them, Robin could sense the immense wave of grief that would soon break over them.

"We can't just leave him there, we must go back," she insisted.

"We can't. We have to get you away."

"I'm not going. If it was your stupid pact, you'd go back for it...."

There was no heat in her words, only anguish, beating futilely at whatever lay in its path. Marian fell, sobbing in earnest now. Robin knelt with her, and she clutched at him, her eyes streaming and wide with distress.

"It's because of me," she cried. "He only did this because I was angry with him this morning, and I called him weak."

"He died doing something he believed in," Robin said gently. He felt one hand grasp softly, as if handling a bird, at the back of his head.

"But he died believing he had a wilful daughter."

Robin shook his head.

"He asked me to give you a message." He took hold of Marian's free hand. "He said, it's good to dream."

Then he kissed her hand, and pulled her into his arms. She trembled, silently now.

"Come with me?" he prompted, releasing her after a few moments. With one hand, he gently caressed the back of her neck.

Marian nodded wordlessly.

He helped her up then and they half-stumbled, arm in arm, to the end of the alley. Robin checked that all was clear, and they hastened on to meet the rest of the gang.