"Your Majesty, the prisoners need water. I request permission to organize its distribution immediately."

The sun over Acre beat mercilessly down upon the king's camp, draining a man of his sweat and causing many Crusader victors and Saracen prisoners to pass out. Those who did not drink were likely to die within a few short hours.

Robin of Locksley, Captain of the King's Private Guard, expected his request to be readily accepted, and so was surprised when the king chewed his lower lip and looked away.

"How much water do you think the wells hold, Robin?" the king asked thoughtfully.

"Your Majesty?"

"Enough for my armies and the thousands of prisoners we captured? It would have been better for all had they died in battle."

"They need water now, Your Majesty," Robin insisted.

King Richard turned his gaze on his beloved Captain. The boy who had sailed with him from home had grown to an impressive young man, distinguishing himself in battle, surpassing Richard's high expectations of him. His skill, valour, and recklessness for his own safety had earned him a medal, victory, and the king's undying respect. Now, the king would need to test him even further, hardening him into a true warrior, second only to himself.

"Do you know what Saladin did to the prisoners at Hattin, Locksley?" the king asked.

Robin knew all too well. Every soldier had heard the stories describing how Saladin had brought the captured Crusader leaders into his tent after winning the Battle of Hattin, and had offered Guy de Lusignan a goblet of iced water in a gesture of generosity. Lusignan had drunk, then passed the cup to the elderly Crusader Raynald, who also drank. Enraged, Saladin declared he had not offered the cup to Raynald, and thus, was not bound by the rules of Saracen hospitality. Drawing his scimitar, Saladin rushed at the aged warrior and beheaded him before them all. He then ordered the beheadings of all the Christian captives, save for Guy de Lusignan, who alone was sent to a prison in Damacus.

"I thank God England is a Christian nation, Your Majesty, and you Her king. We show mercy to our prisoners, and treat them humanely."

King Richard began chewing his lower lip again, seemingly lost in thought. His next words caused a tight knot to form deep within his Captain's gut.

"Humanity rarely has a place in war, Robin."

Robin remained silent, a sense of dread resting upon his heart, as he listened to the king he revered say things he could not accept. Yet Duty, Loyalty, and Obediance commanded he accept His Liege's words.

"We must march south, to Jerusalem. Saladin means to wear me out, certain our notions of chivalry and honor will prevent us from acting as he did. But we cannot journey south, hauling 3000 prisoners with us. Nor can I afford to keep them here! How can I expect my remaining men to feed them all, when there's barely enough food to feed the garrison? So, you see the dilemna I face?"

"Surely Saladin will ransom them, Your Majesty!"

The King's loud laughter shook his tent. "For all the glory you won in battle, Robin, you yet remain a green boy! Saladin refuses to ransom them. Did you not hear me tell you? He means to wear me down! No, I see no alternative. The prisoners must die."

Robin could not believe his ears. No! The king could not be ordering the execution of so many, no matter the situation! Christian knights did not murder! There had to be another way! But King Richard appeared to have made up his mind.

"When they are dead," he continued, "we can take solace in the fact they will not live to fight against us another day." Then, issuing an order, he commanded Robin to call his troops and begin the slaughter.

Foreign tongues crying out for mercy went unheeded, as Robin ignored them and his heart's cry, doing his duty for his king, trying to prove himself the warrior King Richard wanted him to be. Saracen blood splashed and splattered and oozed from the helpless unarmed prisoners as one by one they fell dead at his feet, hacked to pieces. The king would not even allow Robin to kill them with his bow. Wood for arrows was scarce, too valuable to be wasted, when a sword could be wiped clean and reused again and again. Besides, Richard wanted to shake every last bit of "humanity" from his prized warrior. The immediacy of this blood bath would serve young Locksley well, the king was sure. And so, the slaughter went on and on and on...

...

"Robin! Robin, wake up!"

Robin opened frantic eyes, still visualizing the horrors of a war fought years ago. "Marian?" he whispered hoarsely.

"Yes. Yes, I'm here, my darling. Be still. You were dreaming again."

"Not dreaming."

"Yes, dreaming...that horrible dream that won't let you be free. You see? You're here, at Locksley, where you belong, with me. You are my husband, and I love you. Together, we are doing all we can to help people who need us."

"I need you, Marian."

"And I need you. Here, rest. Let me hold you. Come, let's talk of good things. The new foals are beautiful...especially the chestnut one, and one sow is expecting a litter of pigs."

Robin almost grinned. "Which one?"

"The mean one. The one who bit Gracie."

"Let's hope her piglets give her all sorts of trouble."

Marian continued stroking his bangs back from his forehead, while her other hand gently massaged his chest. She could feel his breathing and heartbeats begin to slow back to a more normal rate. She wanted to remind him of all the good they were doing for their people, but there wasn't time, not even if they stayed awake the rest of the night.

"Locksley's thriving under your care, Robin," she reminded him. "The people have never been so happy, even with King John's new taxes. You are making a difference in so many lives, Robin."

Although he appreciated her words, they just weren't enough.

"I want to forget, Marian," he said. "Help me to forget."

She could feel his heartbeats begin to escalate, and hear his breathing become heavy again, but it had little to do with his nightmare, and everything to do with her. She kissed him and clung to him and willingly gave him all her love, and when they finished, they lay together enjoying afterglow kisses until he fell asleep wrapped in her arms, to dream no more of war and bloodshed that night.