The slender rope would twist into a loop, its frayed end diving through the ring, before the circle would close. It was a perpetual process. Knot after knot was forming. The row seemed endless. Then filthy fingers were gripping the rope tightly.
There was a woman’s voice, soft and indistinct, at first, then loud and powerful:
I curse those tainted with the murderer’s blood,
A poison that flows like a river in flood.
May sickness and fever take flight,
And the knots that bind beget darkness, not light.
The grimy fingers stroked the coarse fibers of the rope. A blackened fingernail snaked across one of the knots. The woman was laughing. She hurled the rope and sent it flying into a deep, dark pit. The rope transformed into the figure of a man, who thrashed and clawed at the air as he plunged into the void.
Marion’s eyes flew open and she jerked awake with a startled cry. Sitting up on her mattress, she surveyed her surroundings. Four solid, grey walls met her gaze. Marion didn’t know if she should be relieved or even further distressed by the knowledge. She was safe, protected, yet so isolated, so far away. She had never regretted leaving Sherwood more than she did today.
Marion threw back the bedclothes with trembling hands. Had it been a vision or simply a nightmare? She wouldn’t know until she reached Sherwood. She had to find the man who had been falling. She had to find Robin.
* * * *
“I think Robin was right. I think they’ll go down the Trent,” John said to Will and Tuck.
“Shut up,” Scarlet hissed. He pulled out his dagger for the fourth time that morning and wiped the blade with a shiny, green leaf.
They were lying in some bushes by the Nottingham road, waiting for the Earl of Derby to make an appearance. It was rumoured that the earl had agreed to support King John’s latest campaign against Llewellyn. The outlaws had decided that they could find a better use for the money. However, what they hadn’t been able to decide was how the money would be delivered to Nottingham.
Robin had believed that the earl would transport the money via the Trent, while Will stubbornly insisted that the nobleman would choose the road through Sherwood. In the end, the outlaws had been forced to split up and cover both routes.
“I still say he won’t send the money through Sherwood,” John argued, scratching his beard lazily. “He’ll have been warned about us. He’ll choose another way.”
“And you think that’s down the Trent,” Tuck said. He sighed and propped himself up on his elbows. “It’s a lot of money. If I were donating money to the king’s coffers, I certainly wouldn’t travel through Sherwood.”
“If you were giving money to the king, you wouldn’t be travelling nowhere,” Will said, flashing his dagger under Tuck’s nose.
The monk yawned and rolled onto his back. “Tell me when they get here, Will.”
Scarlet scowled. “If you two thought ’e’d choose the Trent then why didn’t you go with Robin and the others?”
“Because we’d have to work, then,” John said with a grin.
“And walk,” Tuck added.
“I wouldn’t get too comfortable if I were you,” Will said, jabbing the sleepy monk in the ribs. “You’ll ’ave to walk soon enough, I reckon.”
Tuck closed his eyes and ignored Will. It was John who suddenly seemed to stir.
“I just thought of something,” John said. “What if the money’s not going down the Trent at all? What if the earl’s men took the Newark road?”
Scarlet picked up a branch and smacked John soundly with it. When he turned his attention back to Tuck, his friend raised his hands placatingly. Will dropped the branch.
“Why the Trent?” he demanded.
“Robin had one of his dreams, Will,” Tuck said.
Scarlet’s forehead creased. “’E saw the Trent?”
“Uh…no. He saw a long, twisting river. He didn’t know what it was until he saw Gisburne.”
“Gisburne?” Will cried.
John clamped a hand over his mouth. “Shh! Keep your voice down, lad.”
“Why? I thought nobody was coming this way,” Will said sarcastically.
“We said that we didn’t think the earl’s men would be coming through Sherwood,” Tuck said, correcting Scarlet. “That doesn’t mean no one else will.”
Scarlet looked away in embarrassment for an instant before remembering what they had been discussing in the first place.
“Gisburne?” he repeated.
“Aye, Gisburne,” Tuck said.
Will stared at him expectantly. “So?”
“Remember when Gisburne stole the Cross of Saint Ciricus?” Tuck asked.
“Don’t remind me,” Will growled.
“Well, I’m going to have to if you want to hear about Robin’s dream,” Tuck said. “Now, as I’m sure you’ll remember, Gisburne tried to escape down the Trent.”
“Yeah? So?”
Tuck lifted his gaze towards heaven, as if seeking extra guidance.
“It’s a sign, Will,” John said.
Will shook his head. “No, it’s ’ogwash. So Gisburne went down the Trent. Maybe ’e’s been down the Derwent too. It could ’ave been ’is bathwater for all we know!”
John swatted a fly that was buzzing around his head. “I don’t know. Robin’s usually right about these things.”
“Then maybe ’e’s wrong for once.”
“I doubt it,” Tuck muttered. Then he blinked in surprise when he saw Will tense and tilt his head to one side.
“Oh, yeah?” Will said eagerly. “Then what’s that I ’ear?”
“Tuck’s stomach,” John joked.
“No, you daft fool, it’s horses!” Tuck whispered. He sat up and John quickly followed suit.
“You see? I told you,” Will said, unable to hide his smug grin.
“Well, don’t just sit there, lad!” John hissed. “Grab the other end of the rope!”
In his excitement, Will had nearly forgotten the remaining details of their plan. He ran across the road and slipped into the bushes on the other side. This had originally been Tuck’s responsibility, but Tuck had wandered back to his friends when he had grown tired of waiting. Will cursed under his breath as he searched for the end of the rope in the undergrowth. He had just managed to grab it when the soldiers appeared.
The outlaws barely breathed as they waited for the wagon. They watched anxiously as the first two soldiers approached. Fortunately, neither man had noticed the rope concealed under a thin layer of earth. Four, then six, more soldiers rode past. There was still no sign of the wagon, but the outlaws knew it was coming.
They had just spotted a nobleman, replete with an ornate robe and large velvet hat. Soldiers were flanking him on both sides. When the nobleman and his escorts reached the rope, Will gave the signal.
“Now!” he cried.
The rope flew up into the air, knocking the three men from their horses. One soldier was on his feet in an instant. He pulled his sword from its scabbard as John emerged from the bushes with his quarterstaff. John blocked the soldier’s thrust then wrenched the sword from his hand. The soldier froze and John delivered a blow to his head. The second soldier took to his heels and burst through the trees. Will let him escape; he was pursuing bigger quarry.
The nobleman was crawling to his horse when Scarlet stepped into his path. Will seized the nobleman by the front of his immaculate robe and hauled him off the ground. Will noticed that the man was tall, but he was unable to see his face. The wide-brimmed hat was obscuring most of his features. Will decided that he must be very ugly.
“Who might you be?” he asked in an amused tone. “You wouldn’t ’appen to be the Earl of Derby by any chance, would you?”
The nobleman gave no answer.
“Where is it?” Scarlet demanded, his voice taking on a harder edge. “Talk or I’ll kill you.”
The nobleman shook his head, and Will reached for his sword.
“Will!” John called. He and Tuck had chased the rest of the soldiers away and found the wagon.
Scarlet dragged the nobleman towards his friends. “Sooner or later, you’ll talk,” Will said as John and Tuck began to rummage through the wagon. “And the longer you wait, the angrier I’m going to get.” Will rested his hand on the hilt of his sword, but the nobleman still wouldn’t say a word.
It wasn’t long before Tuck found a chest hidden beneath a pile of blankets. John heaved the chest from the wagon with a grunt of exertion.
“Well, it looks like we won’t need your ’elp after all,” Will said, though he didn’t release the hilt of his sword.
“A key might be nice,” John suggested.
“Ah, what do you need a key for?” Will said. “Just put your back into it.”
Tuck silently handed his sword to John, and the stronger man tried the smash the lock. It took several attempts, but John finally managed to break it. The lock opened with a satisfying click, and Tuck reached inside. His fingers immediately made contact with an object that was hard and cool to the touch. He lifted it out of the chest slowly, though he didn’t really need his eyes to confirm what it was.
“Well, let’s see it, then,” John said.
Tuck held up the stone so only John could see it. “The chest’s full of them,” he whispered.
John’s eyes widened. “You mean, there’s no…”
Tuck nodded gravely.
“By Saint Thomas,” John gasped. “Will’s not going to be happy when he sees this.”
“No, he won’t.”
The two men were silent for a moment. Then Tuck clutched John’s arm excitedly.
“John, remember when we stole Mildred de Bracy’s dowry from Notttingham Castle?”
“Aye, what of it?” John asked.
“When we opened the chest, all we found were – ”
“Oi, what are you two whispering about?” Will demanded. He had been so distracted by his prisoner, that he hadn’t noticed his friends’s suspicious behaviour at first. “Are you
planning to keep all the money for yourselves?”
John’s lips twitched, and Tuck hoisted himself to his feet. He was careful to hide the offending object – the stone – behind his back. He debated whether there was a way to soften the blow, to deliver the news without Will losing his temper.
“Will…that isn’t the Earl of Derby,” Tuck said when he couldn’t think of anything else to say.
“What?” Scarlet roared. The man beside him started to laugh quietly. Will ripped off the velvet hat and took in the blond hair, blue eyes and unmistakable smirk. Then his fist flew out, and Guy of Gisburne was sitting in the middle of the road.
“It was worth getting captured just to see the looks on your miserable faces when your brilliant plan failed,” Gisburne said snidely.
Will glared down at the knight in hatred. “Take a good long look, Gisburne, because it’s the last thing you’re ever going to see!” he hissed.
“Will!” John cried. Scarlet tried to lunge at his enemy, but John had a tight grip on him.
“I’m going to kill ’im!” Will screamed. “Let me kill ’im!”
“No, we’ll take him back to the camp and wait for Robin to return,” Tuck said calmly. “He can decide what we’ll do with Gisburne.”
“But Robin won’t kill ’im!” Will moaned in dismay. He broke away from John, and Tuck wondered if Will was going to attack Gisburne again. However, Scarlet managed to restrain himself. He only rested his sword against Gisburne’s throat as he tugged his enemy to his feet. Gisburne was almost off them again when he swayed unsteadily for an instant. John grabbed Gisburne’s arm when he thought the knight might fall.
“You must have hit him harder than you thought, lad,” John joked.
Will pressed his sword a little closer to Gisburne’s throat. “I wish I ’ad, John,” he grumbled. “I really wish I ’ad.”
* * * *
When Robin returned to the camp with Much and Nasir, he was expecting to be greeted by Scarlet’s jeers and laughter. He was surprised when his friend seemed to have trouble meeting his eyes instead.
“Where is it, then?” Will asked quietly.
Robin stared at Will in disbelief. “You mean, you haven’t got it?” he asked, though the answer was obvious.
“Well, of course I ain’t got it!” Will snapped. “I wouldn’t ’ave asked you if I ’ad!”
Tuck dropped the jerkin he had been mending, and John woke from his nap.
“What’s going on?” John murmured sleepily.
“Robin wants to know if we got the money,” Will said distractedly. John and Tuck smiled, waiting for Will to absorb the information. When Will did catch on, his face lit up and he leapt to his feet. “I was right!” he cried triumphantly. “I told you, didn’t I?”
Robin sighed and walked away, while Will laughed and danced around Much. The younger man shook his head and joined his leader by the fire.
“Robin, if we haven’t got it, and they haven’t got it, then where is it?” Much asked.
“Good question, Much,” Robin said. He glanced at Scarlet. “Will?”
Will stopped dancing. “What? Oh…uh…”
“Why don’t you show Robin your prisoner?” John said, another smile tugging at his lips.
“Prisoner?” Robin’s head whipped around. Then he spotted the man tied to a tree at the edge of the camp. The prisoner had been left standing, though his head was bowed. If it hadn’t been for the blond hair, Robin might not have recognized him.
“Gisburne?” he asked, as if doubting his own eyes. “He was so quiet, I didn’t even notice him! Did you gag him?”
“No, though we’ve barely heard a peep from him since we returned to the camp,” Tuck admitted.
“Maybe it’s the Earl of Derby after all,” John said.
“What?” Robin asked.
“When we captured Gisburne, he was disguised as the Earl of Derby, or some such noble,” Tuck explained. The monk then told Robin about that morning’s adventure.
“It sounds like something the Sheriff cooked up,” Robin said once Tuck had finished his tale, “though I would have thought that even Gisburne would have refused to participate in that plan.” He sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Have you questioned him yet?”
Tuck shot a warning look at Will. “No, we thought we’d better leave that to you,” he said. Robin frowned thoughtfully and rose to his feet.
As he headed towards the tree, Robin wondered if Gisburne had either fallen asleep or was making a concerted effort to ignore his enemies. Captivity might have made another man despondent, but this was Gisburne. Surely, he would never accept defeat or despair. And, yet, Gisburne still hadn’t acknowledged his enemy’s presence.
“Gisburne,” Robin said. He waited for the knight’s cold glare, but there was no response.
“Gisburne,” he repeated, raising his voice.
This time the knight did lift his head, and Robin was shocked by what he saw. Gisburne’s face was very pale, and the eyes that stared back at Robin seemed dazed and unfocused. “Wolfshead?” he croaked, and his head rolled onto his chest. Robin reached for Albion and immediately began to cut Gisburne free.
“What are you doing?” Will shouted, running to Robin’s side.
“He’s sick, Will,” Robin said.
“Sick? ’E’s not sick!” Will scoffed. Robin ignored him and continued to work on the ropes. Will grabbed his arm. “It’s a trick! ’E’s just pretending!”
“Is he? Well, he’s doing an excellent job.” Robin pulled his arm free, and concentrated on the task at hand. He saw John and Tuck approach the tree from the corner of his eye and wondered if they wished to judge Gisburne’s condition for themselves.
“But he can’t be sick,” John said. “There was nought wrong with him when we brought him here.”
Tuck raised Gisburne’s head by the chin. “He’s sick, John. Look at his face.”
John gaped at Gisburne, taking an involuntary step forward. “By Saint Thomas! I’ve seen corpses that look better than this! Cut him free!”
“You must be joking!” Scarlet cried.
“He’s sick, Will!” Robin, John and Tuck said in unison.
“So? Why do we care? ’E’s our enemy! ’E should be dead!”
“Aye, lad, but not when he’s like this,” John said. “Face him when he’s got a sword in his hand and a fighting chance.”
“There, that should do it,” Robin said, cutting the last of Gisburne’s bonds.
“I’m telling you, ’e’s fine!” Scarlet yelled.
“I’m fine,” Gisburne stated. He took a few steps away from the tree.
Will pointed at the knight wildly. “There! See! I told you, didn’t I? If ’e was that sick, ’e wouldn’t be able to walk, would ’e?”
“You’re right, Will,” John said. Then he brushed past his friend and caught Gisburne before the knight pitched forward onto his face.
“’E’s pretending. ’E ’as to be,” Will insisted. However, there was a note of uncertainty in his voice.
“Feel his head,” Robin suggested, as John lowered Gisburne to the ground.
Will grimaced. “I don’t want to.”
“Oh, come on, Will,” Tuck said. “You’ll never prove us wrong unless you do.”
“All right, then,” Will said, though he didn’t sound very enthusiastic about the prospect. He knelt down beside his enemy and slowly extended his hand. “’E’s burning up!” Will exclaimed, yanking his hand away as if Gisburne really was on fire.
“Much, fetch some blankets,” Robin ordered. “Nasir – ” He turned his head to find the Saracen standing beside him.
“It doesn’t look good,” Nasir said.
* * * *
“There are no wounds,” Nasir said. They had moved Gisburne closer to the fire, and Tuck was covering him with blankets.
“Are you sure?” Robin asked. The Saracen raised an eyebrow, and Robin let the subject rest.
“If he isn’t wounded then it must be an illness of some kind,” Tuck said, mopping the knight’s brow with a cold wet cloth.
Much stared at the knight with wide eyes. He was biting his bottom lip nervously. “Do you think it’s catching?” He and Will exchanged glances and stepped back a few paces. Robin, on the other hand, moved closer.
“Did he show any signs of sickness when you ambushed him?” Robin asked.
“None that I could see,” Tuck said. “Of course, he did wobble a bit when Will punched him…”
Robin shot Scarlet a look that might have been translated as: You hit a sick man?
“’E was fine!” Will shouted.
“Fine,” Gisburne murmured, before starting to shiver.
“Right! That time ’e did it on purpose!”
“Will!” Tuck scolded.
“Ah…”
Tuck sighed in frustration. “He needs a physician.”
“A physician!” Will exclaimed in outrage. “’E’s our enemy! ’E’s supposed to die!”
“Isn’t there that woman in Elsdon?” John asked, choosing to ignore Will’s comment.
“Who? Jennet?” Will laughed. “She ’ates Gisburne!”
“No, you daft fool, the other one,” Tuck said. “Oh, what’s her name?”
Robin’s brow creased. “Elsdon’s a bit far, isn’t it?”
“I don’t believe it,” Will mumbled, shaking his head.
“If I left now, I might be back by nightfall,” John said.
“If you’re that concerned why don’t you just return ’im to the castle?” Will asked sarcastically.
“Don’t be silly, lad,” John said. “He’s our prisoner.”
“Besides, he’s in no fit state to travel,” Tuck added.
Will threw up his hands. “That’s it! I’ve ’ad enough of you lot! I’m going on watch!” he shouted, storming out of the camp.
John scratched his beard thoughtfully. “What’s the matter with him?”
* * * *
Will crashed through Sherwood, paying little heed to the leaves that rustled as he swatted branches from his face or the twigs that snapped loudly under his feet. If the others could have seen him, they would have been appalled. Will grinned and started to stomp on the forest floor with relish.
He knew he was making enough noise to attract the attention of at least a dozen soldiers, but he didn’t care. If they wanted to arrest him, they were welcome to try. He was in the mood for a good fight.
“Ahh!” Will spun around as a hand fell on his shoulder. He was reaching for his sword, when he recognized his attacker. “Marion?” he gasped.
“Hello, Will.”
Scarlet stared at Marion for an instant before he found himself moving towards her and folding her in his arms. She returned the embrace eagerly, only releasing him when he began to back away awkwardly.
“Is it true?” he asked. “Are you really a nun?”
Marion gazed down at her grey robes, unconsciously smoothing a crease in her habit as she did so.
“Well, I’m still a novice, actually,” she said. Will looked at her blankly, and Marion smiled. “Yes, Will, I’m a nun.”
“Oh, uh…Are you ’appy?”
“Yes, I’m happy most of the time, but I didn’t come here to speak of that. I came here because…because…” Marion trailed off, closing her eyes.
“What’s the matter?” Will asked in concern.
Marion grasped Scarlet’s sleeve anxiously. “Oh, Will, is Robin sick?” she cried.
Will’s eyebrows rose in surprise. “Robin? No, Robin’s all right,” he said. Then he gritted his teeth. “I almost wish ’e wasn’t,” he grumbled. “No, it’s Gisburne that’s sick.”
Marion frowned in confusion. “Gisburne? Are you sure?”
“Yeah, ’e’s back at the camp. Looks like ’e might die…if we’re lucky.”
“He was wounded?”
Will made another face. “No, we don’t know what it is.”
“I see.”
Will didn’t like the tone of Marion’s voice. “You’re not going to go look at ’im, are you?” he demanded.
“Well, I think I should, Will,” Marion said.
Scarlet nodded grimly. “Well, I guess I’d better take you there.” He started to walk away, but Marion laid a hand on his arm.
“It’s all right. I’ll find it,” she said.
“It’s no trouble, Marion. I – ”
“You seemed rather cross just now. Perhaps you should calm down before you return to the camp. Why don’t you go on watch?”
“That’s what I was going to do,” Will said sheepishly.
“Good. I’m glad to hear it, Will, because if a nun can sneak up on you, I’d hate to see what some soldiers might do,” Marion said with a smile.
Will laughed out loud. “I’ve missed you, Marion.”
Marion took his hand and squeezed it. “I’ve missed you too.”
* * * *
Robin crouched down beside Tuck. The monk was still patiently mopping their enemy’s brow.
“How is he?” Robin asked.
“Still the same,” Tuck said. “No better, no worse.”
Robin studied the knight. Gisburne appeared to be sleeping. His eyes were shut and the only visible movement was the steady rise and fall of his chest. Robin didn’t like it.
“What is this, Tuck?”
Tuck shook his head. “Maybe an illness has been spreading through the castle.”
“Maybe.”
“What are we going to do?” Tuck asked.
Good question, Robin thought. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “If it were up to Will, we’d leave him to die.”
“Aye, but it’s not up to Will, is it?” Tuck said gently. “To Will he’s just an enemy, but I’m afraid it’s a lot more complicated for you.”
Robin grimaced. “Well, if I can’t kill him, I suppose I can’t leave him to die either.”
“It looks like you have your answer, then,” Tuck said. Robin nodded, patted Tuck on the back, and then rose to his feet. He was heading over to John to ask him about that woman in Elsdon, when the sound of a birdcall filtered into the camp.
John raised an eyebrow. “Scarlet?”
“No, it was too close,” Nasir said. “Will was too angry to return this quickly.”
John crossed his arms over his broad chest. “But if it isn’t Will who could it be?”
Suddenly Robin felt a flutter of joy in his heart. “Marion,” he whispered.
“Hello, everyone.” Marion walked into the camp, and Robin’s happiness died. She was still wearing a nun’s habit. She had only returned to visit, not stay.
* * * *
“Marion!” Much leapt up from the fire and, grinning boyishly, he threw his arms around her. She laughed and placed a maternal hand on his cheek.
The other outlaws slowly emerged from their collective daze. Tuck approached her first, smiling shyly. Marion wrapped her arms around him.
“We’ve missed you, Little Flower,” Tuck said.
“Aye, that we have, lass.” John was now standing beside them. He hugged Marion, kissing the top of her head despite the wimple.
Nasir stepped forward next. “Salaam aleikum.”
Marion smiled and took both his hands. “Aleikum es-salaam,” she said, returning his greeting. Then she looked at Robin. He hadn’t moved at all.
“It’s good to see you, Robin.”
“Welcome to Sherwood, my lady,” he said coldly. Marion’s smile instantly vanished, and Robin’s eyes flew to the ground.
“Robin!” Tuck protested.
“Right,” John said. He walked over to his leader and took him firmly by the arm. “Look, we all know you’re happy to see her, so there’s no point in hiding it.” He shoved Robin towards Marion, who was now blushing. They both stood there uncomfortably. Robin was too ashamed to meet Marion’s eyes.
“I’m sorry,” he said at last. “I don’t know why I said that.”
“Perhaps you wished to hurt me,” Marion said quietly.
Robin shook his head. “No…no, never that.”
“Robin…” He still wouldn’t look at her. She placed a finger under his chin, and Robin slowly lifted his eyes. “I’m sorry too,” she said. Robin engulfed her in his arms, pulling her close. Marion shut her eyes and held him tightly. She could deny it all she wanted, but she had missed him.
“How are you, Robin?” she asked when they had finally pulled apart. “Are you well?”
“I’m well,” he answered. Then his gaze wandered away, as if her question had reminded him of another subject. Marion followed his eyes and saw Gisburne. Will had been right: the knight didn’t look good at all.
Marion knelt down beside Tuck, who had returned to his patient. “Will said Gisburne was sick and you didn’t know why.”
“Maybe you can help us,” Tuck said, though he knew he had no need to ask. Marion had already placed a hand on Gisburne’s forehead.
“I’ll try to bring his fever down. I’ll need hot water.”
“There’s already some on the fire,” Tuck said. Marion looked at him quizzically. “I was going to prepare a febrifuge,” he explained, “but I’ve forgotten which herbs to use…”
Marion smiled and removed a small pouch from her belt. She pulled at the drawstrings and reached inside, producing a sprig of flowers that resembled daisies.
“Feverfew, of course!” Tuck exclaimed. “How could I have forgotten?”
“Crush the flowers, leaves and stem in a cup then pour in some hot water and stir,” Marion said. “It will need to cool before I give it to him.”
Tuck took the feverfew and rose to prepare the infusion. Marion wiped Gisburne’s face and forehead with the cloth Tuck had left in a bowl beside her. He was very pale and his hair was damp with sweat. Marion loosened his collar and he stirred.
“Gisburne, can you hear me?” Marion asked.
The knight’s eyes opened slowly and he stared at Marion for several seconds before he seemed to recognize her. Then he attempted to sit up, but Marion held him down.
“Were you wounded?”
“Wounded?” Gisburne said in confusion. “No…”
“You weren’t hurt in any way at all?” Marion asked.
“That animal hit me,” Gisburne answered after a long pause.
“Animal?”
“Scathlock.” Gisburne scowled, though the effort was weak.
“Ah, why aren’t I surprised?” Marion exchanged an amused glance with Robin, who shrugged innocently. “Gisburne, what did you eat today?”
Once again there was a long pause before Gisburne spoke. “Bread…wine…” he said.
“Did anything taste strange?” Marion asked. Gisburne was closing his eyes. She shook his shoulder lightly and the eyes flew open. “Does your stomach hurt?” Marion persisted. “Do you think you’ve been poisoned?”
“No…don’t think so…cold.”
“All right,” Marion said as Gisburne sank into the depths of sleep.
When the drink cooled, Marion debated whether it would be better to let Gisburne rest, but decided that she really needed to bring his fever down. As if anticipating her request, Robin draped an arm around Gisburne’s shoulders and pulled the knight into a sitting position. Blue eyes stared at Robin hazily, before Marion placed the cup against Gisburne’s lips.
“Drink,” she said, nudging his mouth with the brim when his lips refused to part. She managed to pour a mouthful down his throat before he began to cough.
“No,” he gasped, once he could speak. However, Marion was determined. When the coughing fit had passed, she made him drink some more. Then his eyes closed and his head rolled back against Robin’s arm. He had only swallowed about a third of the febrifuge, but it would have to do.
Robin set Gisburne back on the ground and looked at Marion. “Do you have any idea what this could be?”
She shook her head. “He isn’t wounded, so it must be an illness of some kind.” Marion remembered her dream and bit her lip anxiously.
“What is it?” Robin asked, noticing the sudden change in Marion’s expression.
Marion instantly lowered her eyes. “It’s nothing. Forget it.”
“Marion,” Robin said, his tone a little sharper.
Marion blushed. “It’s almost as if…as if someone cursed him.”
Robin’s brow furrowed, and John started to laugh.
“It’s about time,” John joked. “I’m surprised no one thought of it sooner. Tuck frowned in disapproval, but Nasir and Much made no attempt to hide their grins. Robin continued to study Marion. She still wouldn’t meet his eyes.
“Marion, why did you come here?” Robin asked.
“Why, to see all of you, of course,” she said.
“No, the truth, Marion. Why did you really come?” Robin placed a hand on her shoulder. “What did you see? Did you know that Gisburne would fall ill? Is that why you were carrying feverfew?”
“She thought it would be you.” Will had entered the camp and was walking towards the pair. “She asked me if you were sick before I even ’ad a chance to tell ’er about Gisburne. Isn’t that right, Marion?”
“Yes, that’s right,” Marion whispered. She raised her head. Her eyes were brimming with tears.
Robin stroked her cheek gently. “What did you see, Marion?”
“There was a woman – a witch. It looked like she was casting a spell. She said, ‘I curse those tainted with the murderer’s blood’.”
“The ‘murderer’s blood’?” Tuck said nervously.
Marion nodded. “She said she would bring sickness and fever upon them and cast them into darkness. Then I saw you falling, Robin. No, you weren’t falling. She threw you into darkness.” Marion shivered as if she were suddenly cold, and Robin drew her close.
“Are you sure it wasn’t Gisburne you saw?” Robin asked. “He has fair hair and isn’t much older than me.”
“It wasn’t Gisburne,” came the muffled reply. “It was you.”
“But if it’s Robin she saw then why is Gisburne sick?” Much asked, voicing everyone’s question.
Marion lifted her head from Robin’s chest, and gazed at him steadily. “I could never mistake Gisburne for you.”
Robin smiled faintly. “I almost wish you had.”
“What?” John and Tuck cried in unison.
Robin pressed a palm against his forehead, squeezing his eyes shut.
Marion clutched his arm in concern. “Robin?”
“I was hoping you’d be wrong,” Robin said. Then he swooned and landed at Marion’s feet.
