Sovereign's War

by Debbie Viguié

  “You know, I would take it as a great personal favor if you wouldn’t mind assuming the cooking duties,” Marian said. “Of course, this is all very primitive here, and I wouldn’t want to impose.”

  “I would be honored, milady.” Jansa beamed from ear to ear.

  “Excellent. Then it is decided. I will find other work for Thomas.”

  “Don’t get me wrong, milady, he’s a decent man. He’s just a horrible cook. I offered to help, but he so wants to be useful.”

  “Now that you mention it, I had noticed,” Marian admitted, and it was true. But she hadn’t had the luxury of caring about something so trivial. However, improved food would likely help the morale of them all. “Can you remind me which one is Thomas?” she asked, slightly embarrassed.

  “The short, fair-headed man with the large hands,” Jansa said. “He’s a woodworker.”

  “Is he?” Marian said. “Well, then, I can definitely find other, better uses of his time.”

  “I’d appreciate it, milady. Like I said, he so wants to be useful.”

  “And he shall be.” Marian barely managed to suppress a smile. It was what they all sought these days. “After all, we have plenty of wood around us to work, and the whole camp will be grateful to have you as cook. Is there anything I can have one of the men fetch you, that would be helpful?”

  “Whatever vegetables can be found would be appreciated, milady, but otherwise I have what I need. We left the castle in a hurry, but I brought some seasonings.”

  “How on earth did you manage to do that?” Marian asked, unable to contain her surprise.

  Jansa smiled. “We had been packed and ready to go for weeks. I figured when you left, so would we.”

  Marian wished she could embrace the other woman. Instead, she just gave her a smile.

  “Thank you.”

  “Thank you, milady,” Jansa replied. “Now, I think there might be something I can do for you.”

  Again Marian had to suppress a smile.

  “What is it?” she asked.

  “I know one or two in the castle who are still loyal to your uncle, and to you. I figure if I send word in the right way, I might be able to find out about your maid.”

  “Chastity?” Marian asked, her breath catching slightly.

  “Yes.”

  Marian balled up her skirt in her fists, trying to control her response. “I’d very dearly love to know what has happened to her, but I wouldn’t want to risk any lives,” she said. “Chastity wouldn’t want that either.”

  “Just tell me that you want to know.”

  “I want to know,” Marian said.

  Jansa nodded. “Then I will find out. And now, with your permission, milady, I’m going to go tell Thomas that I’ll be doing the cooking from now on.”

  “Best to have him come speak with me,” Marian said. “I’ll break it to him gently.”

  “Yes, milady,” Jansa said. She stood with some difficulty, started off, then turned back. “I was very sorry about Will Scarlett. He was a rogue, but he was a good man.”

  “Yes, he was,” Marian said. More than most anyone knows.

  Jansa nodded then headed on her way.

  Marian sat back, struggling with her emotions. Everyone had lost someone, and the odds were great that more would be lost before it was all over. She felt selfish wishing for Chastity’s safety, but couldn’t help it. She reached down and stroked Champion’s head. He sat up and leaned into the affection, a rumble of satisfaction coming from his chest. She was grateful more and more every day for the fox’s presence. It helped steady her, keep her calm.

  She remembered what her uncle had told her He wanted to spare her from the burden of leadership. As it turned out that decision had been out of both of their hands. At that thought she stood abruptly. Champion stood with her, ears forward, alert. She needed to walk a bit. The forest called to her and she moved quickly toward it.

  Once inside the tree line she closed her eyes for a moment and breathed in the scents all around her. The crisp air filled with the sharp tang of the evergreens, a trace of wood smoke brought to the forest by her people, and, underneath it all, the rich, heady aroma of loam, the forest replenishing itself with decay and death to bring forth life. It was the very essence of magic.

  She began to walk slowly, placing each foot with purpose, feeling the life of the forest around her. Every instinct told her to open her eyes so that she could see where she was going, but whatever it was that had been growing inside her since she and Robin journeyed to the heart of Sherwood, urged her to trust.

  Trust the forest.

  Trust herself.

  Trust the magic inside her.

  She kept walking, making slight adjustments when she felt the urge to do so. She wasn’t sure how far she walked or how long, but the longer she walked the more alive she felt. She could hear, no, feel, the creatures that were alive in the forest. She could hear the creak of the branches in the cold. The padding of Champion’s paws beside her seemed to grow louder and louder even though her mind told her the fox moved through the forest with a predator’s silence.

  Her senses took in the smell of the trees and the frost and the earth. She could detect the scent of Champion’s fur and the musk of other animals from time to time. There was something more, though, and she finally decided it must be the faint smell of death as the premature winter took its toll on all in the forest.

  She stopped at last and tilted her head back, lifting her face toward the sky. She was one with nature, just another creature inside the vast forest. Her hopes, dreams, fears began to fade away until there was just her, the fox...

  And a man.

  She opened her eyes swiftly. Robin was standing about ten feet from her, watching her closely.

  “You walked all this way with your eyes shut,” he said.

  “Yes,” she said. “The forest, it speaks to me now. That’s the only way I can describe it.”

  He reached out a hand and brushed it against a tree trunk. “It has always spoken to me. Though lately it has made itself even clearer.”

  She watched as his fingers stroked the bark of the tree and she shivered as she realized that she envied it. Watching him she could no longer feel the bite of the cold. Warmth seemed to be spreading through her. He felt elemental to her, part of the forest itself.

  His hand fell to his side and he walked slowly forward. Her heart began to beat faster. The way he cocked his head to the side she had the uncanny feeling that he could hear it. He stopped when he was barely an arm’s length away. His eyes seemed to pierce her, and she stood, rooted to the ground.

  “Your ancestors knew that the forest was alive, knew the creatures who dwelt here,” he said.

  “I believe they were your ancestors, too,” she answered. The way he was looking at her sent heat to her cheeks. She should look away, Marian knew, but she couldn’t.

  No! It wasn’t that she couldn’t look away. She didn’t want to look away. She wanted to never look away.

  “Marian, I don’t want to leave you,” he said, voice thick and husky.

  “I don’t want you to leave either,” she said, having to clear her throat to get the words out. He reached out and touched her cheek. She leaned into it and a sigh of longing escaped her.

  “It is strange to me, how we can want something we’ve never had,” he said, sliding his hand behind her head. “Want it so much that we might die without the having of it.”

  “It is part of nature, part of who we are,” she whispered. She reached out and put her hand on his chest. She could feel his heart now. It was beating fast, keeping time with hers. That was as it should be. They were alone. Two of God’s creatures in their forest home. All the artifice of society was gone, and for the first time in a very long time what she wanted was clear, simple, without artifice.

  And right in front of her.

  She put her hands on either side of his face and pulled it down to her. She kissed his lips. He was hesitant at first, a
nd then she felt the moment when he gave himself over. She could taste the longing on his lips, and it mirrored that which was growing inside of her.

  After what seemed an eternity he pulled away.

  “Marian, what do you want from me?” he asked.

  “I want you to come back to me,” she whispered.

  “I’ll try.”

  “More than that,” she said. “Promise.”

  “You know I can’t promise,” he said.

  “But I need you to,” she answered, feeling as if her heart might break.

  “Ask me anything,” Robin said, “but I can’t make a vow to you that I’m not sure I can keep.” He wanted her, almost as much as she wanted him. She knew it, and for just a moment she let it all play out in her mind—a life with him, a home… children.

  “I want you to give me a child,” the words slipped out before she could stop them.

  He jerked as though she had struck him.

  “Marian, you don’t know what you’re saying.” He stared at her like he thought she had lost her mind.

  “I know exactly what I’m saying,” she countered. It was true. “I want to be yours and you to be mine. I don’t want to wait for you to come back. You might die. I might die. Why put off what we both want?”

  He stared at her, his face flushing.

  “It’s not proper.”

  She wanted to laugh. Nothing that had happened was proper, or civilized, or right. Still, she had a feeling she could stand there and reason and argue until she was blue in the face. So she kissed him again. Wrapped her arms around his waist and pressed close to him. She couldn’t help but think of when they had danced at King Richard’s party, and the fire that she’d felt in his arms.

  Robin stepped back, pulling out of her arms.

  “Marian, I can’t do this,” he said. “You’re a princess, and if Richard falls, you must be queen. You need someone who can match you. I will follow you. I will serve you. I will worship you, but I can’t be a stumbling block.”

  “Retreating from the field of battle?” she challenged.

  “Yes,” he said, taking a deep breath.

  “Then you’re a coward,” she said. The words rang through the air between them. They were harsh, but she did not regret them. He looked desperate, like a trapped animal. She expected him to respond to the insult with anger. Instead, he just shook his head.

  “Then I’m a coward,” he said, turning to walk away.

  “No!”

  “But you called me one,” he said over his shoulder. “Perhaps rightly so.”

  “I meant, no, you cannot leave,” she said firmly. “I did not give you permission.”

  He stopped and she could tell that every muscle in his body was taut. He spoke without turning.

  “If I can rescue the king and bring him home,” he said. “If we can defeat the Sheriff. Then, perhaps I will ask King Richard for your hand in marriage. Perhaps I will be worthy of doing so.”

  “All we have been through and you still think yourself not worthy,” she shook her head. “Do you not love me?”

  He turned, looking pained. “Of course I love you. I have loved you for so very, very long.”

  “Do you not desire me?”

  He balled his hands into fists at his side.

  “Any man would desire you.”

  “But do you?”

  “Yes,” he murmured so that she could barely hear him. She took a deep breath, feeling on more solid footing.

  “Do you know how many men have asked Richard for my hand in marriage?”

  Robin flushed deeper. “My father said every lord had offered up himself or his son.”

  “Do you know why my uncle rejected every offer?”

  Robin shook his head.

  “He wanted me to have a say in the matter. He thought it was important.”

  Robin stared at her. “So, he brought all those offers to you?”

  “He did.”

  “Why did you reject each suitor?”

  “Oh, Robin… silly boy.” She shook her head again. “Because they weren’t you.”

  CHAPTER FOUR

  “What are you saying?”

  “I’m saying that when your father proposed Robert, as my husband,” Marian replied, “I should have been bold enough to tell my uncle to suggest you instead. I have regretted not doing so every day since.”

  Robin moved so that he was standing again in front of her. He stared into her eyes, searching them, trying to understand what she was telling him.

  “Why?”

  “Because I love you.” She smiled up at him. “I want you. I choose you.”

  At that he wrapped his arms around her. Instead of kissing her, though, he buried his face in her neck. His whole body shuddered. A few moments later he let go of her, dropped down onto one knee, and addressed Champion.

  “Go get Friar Tuck,” he whispered to the fox.

  Champion turned and started running back toward the clearing.

  “You can talk to animals,” Marian breathed.

  “Only those that wish to listen,” he said. Robin was shaking like a leaf from head to toe. He wanted to move, to take her hand, touch her in some way. He was afraid that if he did, though, it would somehow break the spell they were both under.

  * * *

  Just when he could stand it no more he heard the sound of someone hurrying through the forest toward them, moving with great difficulty and much muttering. He smiled, and a minute later the fat friar came into sight, being shepherded by the fox that was nipping at his heels and tugging at his robe.

  As Friar Tuck stumbled to a stop next to them, he wheezed with exertion. Still Champion grabbed at his robe.

  “You dragged me here,” the monk roared. “You can stop now!” When the fox stopped, he looked up at Robin and Marian. “What’s the emergency?” he asked, eyes wide with fear.

  Robin’s mouth had gone completely dry.

  “We want you to marry us,” Marian said in a level voice. “Right now.”

  A look of consternation settled on Tuck’s face. “You can’t be serious.”

  “Oh, but we are,” Marian said, putting more force into her words. “We want you to marry us in the eyes of God.”

  “Here? In the cold?” he said. “But, your uncle—”

  “Marry us or we’ll get Alan to do it.” Marian tilted her chin up, eyes hard as stone. “According to the old ways.”

  “Now hold on a minute there.” Friar Tuck turned bright red. “He can’t get you married good and proper in the eyes of God and the church. And I never said I wouldn’t. You just have to give a fellow a chance to catch his breath.”

  Robin found his voice. He reached out and put a hand on Friar Tuck’s shoulder.

  “We don’t mean to startle you. We just want to be wed before we are parted again.”

  Friar Tuck nodded slowly, and a smile lit up his face. “The truth is I’ve prayed for this day,” he confided. “It’s just not how I expected it to happen.”

  “Nor did I,” Robin said with a wink. The friar laughed and slapped him on the back so hard he almost knocked him over.

  “Very good, then,” he said, having regained his composure. “You know, though, there’s a lot of fine folk back in the clearing who’d love to celebrate with you. When you think about it, everyone could use something to celebrate about now.”

  “While I appreciate that,” Marian said, “we’d like the ceremony to be private.” She gave him a meaningful look. “Just us.”

  “Are you planning on keeping your marriage a secret?”

  “Only until morning,” Marian said, blushing. “We’d prefer to be undisturbed until then.”

  “Ah, I see.”

  A long moment passed with no words.

  Champion gave a short bark.

  “You are sure?” Friar Tuck asked them.

  “Absolutely,” Robin and Marian spoke in perfect unity.

  “Well, then, let’s get on with it.” He positioned h
imself between them. “Take each other’s hands.”

  Robin reached out and took Marian’s hands in his own. Their breaths steamed out, but he realized he didn’t feel the cold as he used to. Nor did Marian, it seemed. As the friar talked he tried to listen, but he found himself lost in her eyes. He managed to answer when called on, and listened in awe when she answered, but the words all seemed to run together.

  “I said, you may kiss the bride,” Friar Tuck said, and Robin with a start realized the man was repeating himself. He leaned down and kissed Marian, his lips touching hers gently. When he would have pulled away, however, she wrapped her arms around his neck and drew him closer until their bodies were pressed together.

  “Come on, Champion,” Tuck said wryly. “We are clearly no longer needed here.” Still Marian held the embrace, until a long moment after they were alone.

  “I thought they’d never leave,” Marian whispered against his lips. Then she grabbed hold of his tunic and began to pull it over his head, and he felt a fierce surge of joy. Marian was his and he was hers. Whatever the future held, nothing could take this moment from them. He picked her up and spun her around as he kissed her, there in the forest with only the trees to see.

  * * *

  Friar Tuck hurried back to the clearing, eager to leave the young couple to themselves. The fox trotted beside him, although he kept glancing over his shoulder. Tuck couldn’t help but feel happy that Marian and Robin had finally realized they were meant to be together and had done something about it.

  He was, however, deeply sorry that both Will and Cardinal Francis hadn’t lived to see it. He was pretty sure neither man would have been surprised. Indeed, Will had been vocal—at least to him—in his hope that the two of them might finally realize they were in love with each other.

  That they have…

  He lifted his eyes heavenward and hoped his friends were both smiling down. Imagining them doing so was some slight comfort. He made it back to the camp finally and looked around, bursting with the need to tell someone what had just happened. Not surprisingly, his eyes fell on Alan. He knew that Marian and Robin wanted privacy until the morning, and he could trust the bard to do nothing that would disturb them.