"Kill you," he said quiet.

"He wants something. It's such a strange offer, he wouldn't make it just to kill me."

"He well might, Scarlet. But say he is telling the truth. There are other ways he could hurt you."

I remembered listening to the things my sister had to do in London, the way men touched her. It pushed blood into my cheeks and made me shiver. "Not if he wants an annulment."

"You want the annulment. What if he doesn't really want an annulment?"

My shoulders shrugged up, but I didn't answer him.

"You're already married, Scar. If he can'ta"or won'ta"swear before a priest that you're still a virgin, there is no annulment. That's all it takes. He outweighs you by more than a hundred pounds, at least. If he comes after you in close quarters, there isn't much you and your knives can do about it."

I were starting to sway, my head dizzying round.

"I know I'm scaring you, Scar, even if you can't admit it. You should be scared. You have a lot of fight ahead of you no matter which way you go."

Rubbing my arms didn't do nothing for the cold, for the hot swirl in my head. "I'm tired of fighting, John."

"We've all been fighting more than our fair share, Scar. Maybe both of us should start fighting for our happy ending."

My eyes shut and my eyeb.a.l.l.s felt like ice behind them, like little bits of my eye had gone to frost. "What if there ain't an end, and it ain't happy besides?" I asked him. "How could it be, after all this?"

"I don't know, Scar."

"Can we stop?" I said. My stomach were overtight and rolling and twisting. "I think a ugh," I whined, bending over, ready to cast up anything that remained in my belly. Nothing came up, but the pain didn't ease and the world were sliding round me.

"Come on, we need to get you out of the cold," he said, tugging my arm.

I straightened, standing on wobbly knees. My head beat a cruel tattoo, and it were choking me. "J-Johna"" I never got a chance to finish the thought, as the dark trees and bright day pushed together and changed to total dark.

My eyes were bare open before my belly twisted and I retched. I were in a bed, and the best place seemed to be off the side of it. Lucky there were a pot there, and someone set my face toward it.

When I were done, I looked, and it were Ellie, one of Tuck's girls. She petted the duck feathers left of my hair where I'd cut it off months before. "You all right?" she asked.

I shut my eyes and hugged the pillow, but the lumps Rob had put on me yelled in protest and I rolled onto my back. "Christ," I moaned.

"Sit up a bit," she told me. "Tuck sent some broth up."

I obeyed, though I didn't much feel like it. She pushed a bowl at me and I reached to grab it when I saw one hand was covered with bandages hard and stiff. "What a" I asked her.

She shrugged. "Brother from the monastery said you broke your hand."

My chest felt like it cracked open. My hand were broken? I couldn't throw knives. I couldn't a Christ, I could barely defend myself. My hands shook as I took the bowl from her.

Ellie leaned back on her hands. "So strange," she said, staring at me. "Never would have even thought you're a girl, but now that I know I feel stupid for not seeing it before."

I frowned. She were more stupid for hussing her bits at me so often.

"Robin's downstairs, you know," she told me. "Stalking outside like a lion. John won't let him in."

Coughing a bit, I shrugged. "He won't never, not with Bess in here."

Ellie sat up straighter. "You think? Do you reckon he's serious about her, then? I told her John is just a boy, and a stupid, disloyal one at that."

I didn't throw the soup at her. I felt right proud for that. "You don't know nothing, Ellie," I snapped at her. "John is the most loyal. The most protective. He chooses Bess and he'll love her till he rots. He deserves a family."

Now her eyes narrowed. "Have you and John fooled around, then? Living in the woods with all them boys, must be just like everyone says, isn't it?"

"Don't be a fool. I ain't never done nothing with John. You have."

She shrugged. "So?"

I put the soup down and tossed the blanket off. "I'm going to see Rob," I told her.

She didn't stop me. I went down the stairs and near the door, but I stopped. I went to the window, looking outside.

He were there. He were pacing, just as she said. Looking fair miserable.

I didn't want him to know what he'd done. Sure, he knew, but seeing me were a different thing. The hand were bad, and he'd know just how bad. He'd know what it meant for me. And he couldn't know.

Most because, as I watched him, sad and hurting and the kind of alone that I couldn't be a part of, I knew what I had to do. I knew what I wanted to do. And Rob wouldn't never rest if he knew I were going to Gisbourne and couldn't bare throw a knife.

Rob wouldn't never forgive himself, neither, if I died.

I went back from the window and asked Tuck where John were. John came up from around the bar, glaring at the door, where Rob were just beyond. "What?" John asked.

"Find out what Gisbourne wants," I said. "And find out when the prince comes."

Chapter Six.

Three days later, I hadn't much moved from the bed Tuck had given me. I'd looked once in a gla.s.s, and my face were purple by half. My belly were yellow and black, and my hand had set to aching fierce. From what the girls were saying, Rob were outside most of the time, which were like to mean he ain't slept. Weren't nothing good coming from that.

It were dusk when Much came to me. I were downstairs, hanging back from the windows to watch Rob without him seeing me. He were just sitting now, waiting. Watching.

Much looked bigger to me, like his bones were growing, and it made me remember how young he were still. He were only half formed, half grown. A few years never seemed like much between us, but he still had changing to do. "John told me," he said. "What you're thinking of doing. And I tried to find out what Gisbourne wantsa"we both dida"but we couldn't. And Rob's suspicious."

"You can't tell him," I said. "Even after I go, keep it as long as you can."

He nodded. "So you're going."

"Maybe. How long till the prince comes?"

"He'll be here tomorrow. They're releasing the men at the same time so a good crowd will greet the prince."

My eyes shut. Weren't there no luck for me in this world? "I can't go to him with no way to defend myself, Much. What am I supposed to do with a broke hand?"

Much frowned. He had such a serious face, so oft full of thoughts, but this were strange on him, like there were something he didn't understanda"which happened rare enough. He'd spent most of the winter tearing through the library of monks' books that I could bare pick up, never mind understand. "What does your hand have to do with defending yourself?"

"Now you're just making fun," I told him, standing and drawing closer to the windows as Rob began to pace.

"No, I'm not," he said. I looked at him and he kept on frowning. "I think you're confused."

"My hand's broke, Much," I snapped, looking away.

"And you think that's how you fight," he said, like light just dawned in his head. "Christ, you think your knives make you what you are?" He came closer and put his hand on my shoulder, but I didn't turn to him. "You remember when you bought me the kattari?" he asked.

I shrugged under his hand.

"Why'd you do that?"

"Because you were whining and moping all about and complaining that you couldn't fight."

"So what did the kattari change?"

"Nothing," I snapped. "I just gave you a weapon that weren't hard for you to carry."

"It changed something. I couldn't fight without it."

I shoved his hand off, glaring at him. "Of course you could! You've fought every d.a.m.n day of your life and the person who doesn't look at your stump of an arm and know it means you're a better, stronger, harder fighter than someone with two hands is a d.a.m.n fool." He started to smile and I pushed him. "And if you're trying to say I don't need my knives to fight, it's different!"

"How?"

My chest felt like it caved in. "Because he will hurt me. Badly. And there won't be no band. And no Rob. And if he wants to make me every bit the scared, helpless girl, it won't be hard." My voice were gone, and the words were bare solid, like dust in the air.

Much stepped forward, looking into my eyes and I looked down. "Scar," he said soft. "Scar," he repeated, until I looked at him. "You learned to use your hands to fight for you. And you learned to trust the band to be at your back. You may have even learned to let Rob save you. But you don't need a d.a.m.n one of those things. Your power, your great gift, is that you never give up. When something fails you make a new plan, and another, and another. You never accept defeat. You never give up."

"He'll kill me."

"He wants something from you, and I don't think it's to kill you."

"What if it is?"

The corner of his mouth twitched up, and I frowned hard before it turned into a full smile. "Then don't make it easy."

I ducked my head.

"You don't have to do this, you know," he told me.

I stood. My body hurt everywhere, and I hated that Gisbourne would see the proof of this shameful thing between me and Rob. I hated that I were going. I hated that I were going alone, for the first time in years without the band behind me. Without Rob.

"Find some way to distract Rob."

"Scara"" Much said, but he didn't finish the breath.

"Keep him whole, Much. Find something in those books of yours to make him better. Please."

Much caught my good arm and squeezed awful hard. "Don't die, Scar. He doesn't come back from this if you die."

That bit, at least, made me smile. "Neither do I. Go on. Make it good so he don't suspect."

Much nodded and let go of me. I hoped it wouldn't be forever.

John followed me to the castle. I told him to leave off, but he wouldn't neither. He helped me climb with my hurt hand, he waited on the wall beside me as I sat there for most of the night, staring at the residences. There weren't no candles lit by then. We didn't talk none. Me and John weren't the sort for that.

When light started to rise above the trees, I stood from the wall. "Bye, John," I said to him.

Paying no mind to my bruises, he hugged me straight off my feet, then let me go. "We won't be far. We'll be here if you need us."

That weren't true. If I needed them, it would be quick and done fast, before they could charge in. I were going, and I were going alone. "I know."

He nodded, and just stood there. I went over the wall and into the castle, and he just stood there still. Climbing up to the residences were slow and awful, using one hand to climb up while the other were useless. I sat in Gisbourne's window with one look left for John. He were still standing there, watching.

I took a breath and looked into the room. Gisbourne were sleeping, and my fingers twitched for a knife.

Couldn't I just kill him right there? While he slept. No mess, just a knife in the throat and he'd wake up in Heaven 'stead of his bed.

Well, it ain't like I make such decisions, but in truth, I doubted he were meant for Heaven.

But I still wanted to be. And that meant I couldn't honestly kill him while he slept.

I dropped one leg inside the window and left it there. That were as far into the room as I were willing to go. I let my boot sc.r.a.pe along the rough stone, making a soft bit of noise, and it were enough. Gisbourne pulled awake, brandishing a short sword from under his pillow.

Heave-chested and wild eyed, he found me in the room, his mouth twisted in a snarl. He swore, putting the sword down. "Marian," he grunted. "You came."

"Why do you want me here, Gisbourne?" I asked. My heart were hammering but I wouldn't move none. "Tell me or I'm leaving."

"No you're not," he said, lying back without a care for me. "You want that annulment. You'd never have come otherwise. So shut up and be still and I'll tell you if I feel like it."

I pulled my leg back up, and I drew the shutter closed behind me but I didn't move. I just sat there, in the window, wondering what I had done.

My heart were thrumming like someone were playing it on strings. I didn't sleep, just took in as much as I could about the chamber. It looked the same as it had before: big chairs by the fire, the two trunks, a bed. A big bed. Gisbourne were sprawled out in it, and it were like watching a bear. It weren't something I'd step close to, but if it were sleeping there weren't no harm in looking.

He looked broader than I remembered. His hair were s.h.a.ggy in sleep and his big back were bare and muscled over. He were built like John, all b.u.mps and lumps and trenches in between. He were strong. Stronger than me.

It were full sunlight before he moved, and then only when a manservant came into the room. He looked at me and went over to Gisbourne, calling his name until Gisbourne woke with a growl like a beast.

"My lord, the prince will be arriving soon. You must dress."

"Fine. Eadric, find a lady to dress my wife as well."