After flipping her Nightwatchman vest to its more "feminine" side, Marian approached the sheriff just in time to watch him upbraid a visibly nervous Allan.

"YOU LET HIM GET AWAY?" the sheriff was screaming, slapping at Allan with his glove. "You had the Nightwatchman, and you let him slip through your fingers? Gisbourne, take away his leather. Your boy's not the genius I thought him."

"Look, I tell you I had 'im! Not bein' funny, but he musta escaped down the privy!"

You may be "good with nuns," whatever that implies, Marian was thinking, fondly, but you're a terrible liar. But thank you! Robin will know what you did today.

"What is happening?" she asked Guy sternly, meaning to come to Allan's rescue.

It took no effort to be stern. Guy loomed over her, his powerful presence rich with menace and his own dark sexuality, but Marian felt no fear. This was the man who, for all his claims of having "another side," had just tortured Robin and longed to see him dead. Marian loathed him.

"Allan claims to have caught the Nightwatchman," Guy explained, casting a sneer toward "his boy."

"Congratulations." Flashing Allan a look of pure gratitude, Marian signaled that she understood what he'd done. When Allan grinned back at her, Guy grew instantly jealous.

Marian was his...nobody else's. And though he did not suspect anything other than an acquaintance between his boy and his woman, he puffed out his chest and moved between them, claiming ownership and mastery over both.

"The trouble is," the sheriff continued, so furious over losing the Nightwatchman yet again that he missed the looks passing between Allan and Marian, "there is no Nightwatchman to be found! WHERE IS HE, HMMM?"

"Look," Allan stalled, risking the sheriff's anger to give Robin and the gang more time to escape, "since he escaped down the privy, all we gotta do is use our noses, and find a man who stinks! Not bein' funny, but Guy and I oughtta be good at that!"

"What is THAT supposed to mean?" Gisbourne roared.

"I'm only sayin', your nose and mine aren't exactly our best features! But I never minded! You know what they say, "Big nose, big-"

"Amusing," the sheriff interrupted, dryly. "A clue...no. And while you two stand around quibbling like a bunch of women, the Nightwatchman HAS MADE HIS ESCAPE!"

"With respect, my lord," Gisbourne sneered, "at least we still have Hood."

The sheriff grasped the import of Guy's words before Gisbourne himself did. Vaisey's eyes widened, looking as if they might pop from his head the way Guy had tried to twist out Robin's, until Gisbourne caught on.

"ROBIN HOOD!" The name was a curse on Gisbourne's lips, as he raced after the sheriff through the castle and down the steps to the dungeon. Every guard present clumped after them, leaving Marian and Allan alone.

"Thank you," Marian whispered, clasping Allan in a grateful embrace.

"Yeah, well, I'm not all bad."

"You're not bad at all. You're a good man, Allan. You proved it today."

"I just didn't wanna see you cry." They were both smiling, with no mistrust, judgment, or shame between them. But the lovely moment could not last.

"You better go while you can," Allan reminded her. "You know, back to Robin."

His words made Marian sad, but she lifted her chin bravely. "I'm not going back."

"No? How come? I mean, not bein' funny or anything, but-"

"I can't. My living in the forest puts Robin in too much danger. But you can go. Go now, while the sheriff and Guy are occupied."

"Look, Marian, even if I wanted to, it's too late."

"It isn't! You proved what side you're on today! You don't need to live here any more, Allan, harming your fellow man, when you could be-"

"What? Beggin' for Robin's forgiveness? Listenin' to Much rant on and on about me bein' a traitor? No thank you. I don't have to beg for anything, any more."

"You're more committed to Robin, and to Good, than you think."

"Sorry to disappoint you, but you're wrong. I'm committed to one thing, and that's me. I gotta be, to survive. I learned that a long time ago. I know what side my bread's buttered on."

"No."

"They're comin' back, and they're not gonna be in a good mood, after findin' Robin gone. I don't know about you, Marian, but I'm gonna make myself scarce."

"Go to the forest."

"Sorry. I got a appointment with somebody lovely, in Gropecunt Street. Redhead, named Maggie. Wouldn't be a gent if I stood her up, would I?"

Marian threw him one last pleadingly demanding look, not half as friendly as the ones she'd earlier bestowed on him, before adjusting her "mask" to turn innocent eyes on a raging Gisbourne.

You're lying to yourself, Allan, she couldn't help thinking. As I realized earlier, you're a bad liar. Unfortunately, I've grown into an accomplished one.

"What is it, Guy?" she asked, beginning her masquerade anew, proud to be a fighter, even while her heart grieved at the role she was forced to play. "You're upset."

...

Djaq's skills and knowledge of medicine soon made Robin well again, at least in body. With Marian gone, his spirits, though he tried to put aside his feelings, remained low.

"Who's catching dinner tonight?" Much asked the gang. "I suppose it will be me...again!"

"I'll do it," Robin offered, reaching for his bow.

"No, Master, you stay here. You're not well enough yet. Though I must say, it would be a refreshing change, once in awhile, for you to bring us back something you shot. Some pheasants wouldn't go amiss, I think. Or a wild boar. Mmmmm, I'd like that!"

"Refreshing change? I've brought back dinner!"

"Please!"

"I have!"

"When? When Marian was here?"

"Yes."

"Unbelievable!"

Much was only trying to good-naturedly tease his master, and he failed to notice Djaq's eyes warning him to "shut up."

"I seem to recall," Much continued, somewhat pompously, "when Marian was here, you two going off with your bows on the excuse that you would bring us home some dinner, but when you both returned, hours later I might add, you didn't bring back so much as a sparrow!"

"Or a squirrel," Little John added, pointedly.

Robin tried to smile, but he just couldn't do it. He missed Marian too terribly, not having seen her since she'd bid him goodbye in the dungeon, two weeks before.

He needed to find out how she was...needed to know that she was alright.

"I'll bring you back more food than you'll know how to cook," he told Much, disappearing with his bow before Much could object.

Moments later he was back. "Come on!" he told his gang, sounding better than he had in days. "The sheriff's up to something!"

A mad chase through the forest, with the gang following a man who shouldn't yet be running and leaping and sliding down hills the way Robin was, ended at the top of a ravine, with Robin ordering, "Get down! Get down!" Then, a whispered, "Where's Much?" until Much joined them, groaning, "Right on my sword!"

Will tentatively draped his arm around Djaq's shoulder, as the gang watched an army of mercenaries tramp through the forest.

I promised you food, Robin thought with a chuckle. "Come on," he told his men, determinedly. "There's enough food there to feed Locksley for an entire winter."

It was too easy. With his men's help, he was soon driving a food laden cart in a completely different direction than the mercenaries.

His good humor, never far away, was restored. Chuckling, he steered the horses toward Nettlestone, and the barn where they stored food for his villagers.

He had no idea an old friend from his past, LeGrand, would meet him there, with a fight and a message from the king.

~FIN~

...

(NOTE: Thanks for reading! Another story has been suggested to me, as well as its title, about Marian, Gisbourne, and the sheriff in the Holy Land, while Marian is a prisoner, titled The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly. (Very clever!) So I hope to start writing that one next.

Much's little complaint in this chapter came from an 1800's book by John B. Marsh titled The Life and Adventures of Robin Hood. To quote it: "Robin and Marian, after their share in the practice of the day, would saunter off into the forest, their quivers hanging at their backs, under the pretence of shooting, but many a time returning without even a bird hanging from their belts, the time having passed in a much more pleasant way than shooting at game." WE ALL KNOW THEY WERE GATHERING HONEY!)