Broken Arrow

In the half-light, Robert stared down at her face and shrugged. 'Nothing.'

'Liar.' It wasn't said in a nasty way, but it stung nonetheless.

'Am I not allowed to just sit here peacefully now?'

'That's not what I said. I asked you what you were thinking about?'

'The past.'

Mary sat up, resting against the headboard beside him. 'You were thinking about Joanne and Stevie again, then.'

Robert sighed. 'No… why does it always have to come back to that? Why can't you let it go?'

'Why can't you?'

'This isn't even about… If you must know I was remembering an old friend of mine from the force. And before you ask, no, he wasn't a woman.' Mary's turn to be stung. 'I've been thinking about what's been happening, what I'm doing here.'

'With me?'

Robert sighed again. 'No, you're twisting it all… What I'm doing here at the castle, Mary. How I've become rooted to this place, been hiding behind its walls for too long. It's not where I belong.'

'And where should you be? Sherwood? Alone?'

'No…' Robert shook his head, but there was no conviction in it, only confusion. 'I don't know… Anywhere but stuck here organising the men, sending them out on missions.'

'I help you as much as I can, you don't have to shoulder it all on your own.'

'No, that's not what I'm talking about. I'm not the man you met anymore, Mary. Staying here's done that. I'm… rusty.'

'So this is about what happened in York? I said it was a bad idea to — '

'Mary, you're not listening. That's not the issue. The men we saw out there, the cult. They're dangerous.'

'More dangerous than the Frenchman?'

'They have the capacity to be. And they're not interested in wealth or power like he was. They'll fight until every last one of them is dead.'

Mary was silent for a few moments. 'We have men, loyal men,' she said eventually.

'And what if they fall? What if the fight is brought here again? How am I supposed to defend the people I care about, how am I supposed to lead men into battle, when I've lost my edge? When I've become…'

'What? A family man? A leader?'

'You just don't see it, do you? I'm no better than De Falaise.'

Mary pulled a face. 'How can you say that?'

'Because it's true. He stayed here in his ivory tower with Gwen while he sent his men off to their deaths, to do his dirty work for him.'

'To do his killing. And he wasn't exactly the dutiful partner when it came to Gwen, was he? She was his plaything, Robert. His toy. You care about your men. You care about me… don't you?'

'You really need to ask that?'

Mary gave a little shrug which he could barely see in the dark. 'When girls like Adele — '

'Adele again?' Robert snorted. 'What the bloody hell's she got to do with this?'

'It's another consequence of going out there. You're a living legend, Robert; women fall at your feet.'

'That's your paranoia again.'

'Is it? I saw the way she looked at you. You can't have missed it; and you invited her back here of all the things to — '

He pulled the covers aside, climbing out of bed.

'Where are you going?'

'For a drink of water.' Robert pulled on his robe, making for the door.

'Robert, I — '

'They don't mean anything to me, Mary. None of them. You'd know that if you really knew me.' He took one last look at her, then he opened the door and slid out, whispering under his breath, 'I love you.' Robert wasn't sure whether she'd heard him or not, but he'd said it and as far as he was concerned that was enough. As he shut the door he thought he heard a faint sob, and almost went back in. But he was in no mood to keep talking that particular subject to death.

Robert crept down the darkened corridor, careful not to wake the others sleeping in this part of the castle. He padded down the stairs, heading for what had once been the castle cafe. Striking a match on the counter, he lit a couple of candles. Then, taking a glass, he opened a cupboard and took a bottle of water from a pack, one of a batch his men had found out on their travels. He looked at it. There weren't many still around, but even this was somehow mocking him — reminding him he'd returned to a life he'd once turned his back on. When he'd been in Sherwood, he'd caught his own water and filtered it. Now, it was like that had never happened. Hanging his head, he unscrewed the lid and poured.

He felt a hand on his shoulder and dropped the glass, spinning round, simultaneously grabbing whoever was behind him by the throat and shoving them against the wall.

Robert was breathing hard. He blinked, and realised the figure he was holding was a woman with short hair.

'I… I'm sorry…' croaked Adele. 'I…'

Horrified, Robert let her go. 'No, I'm… You shouldn't creep up on me like that.'

She rubbed her throat and said hoarsely: 'I… I wasn't creeping, Robert. Honestly. I had to go to the loo and got lost finding my way back. This place is so huge, and I'm still figuring it all out.'

Robert's breathing slowed. God, he really was losing his touch; there was a time he would have heard… felt someone come up behind him. If it had been an assassin, they'd have plunged a knife into him before he could even turn.

'I saw the light and, well, if I'd realised you wanted to be alone…' Adele said sadly.

'It's not that. I just…' Robert shook his head. 'Did I hurt you?'

Adele coughed and smiled. 'Nothing a glass of water won't fix.'

Robert walked back to the counter, then stooped to pick up the bits of broken glass. He looked across when Adele followed him, noticing what she was wearing for the first time. A man's shirt — probably Jack's because it was so big — with the sleeves rolled up… and nothing else. Her long legs looked pale in the light from the candle, and he chastised himself for letting his eyes linger on them before getting back to his task.

'You're very fast, you know.'

'Hmm? Not nearly as fast as I used to be.'

Adele leaned on the counter, watching him pick up the final pieces of glass. 'You're joking? You really had me back there. And the way you tackled those hooligans back in York!'

Robert put the glass in a bin. 'It was nothing.' That sounded better in his head than it did out loud. Why didn't you go the whole way and add, aw shucks? 'It's what I do. Well, what I did.'

'Did?'

Robert joined her at the counter, then rounded the other side — partly to fetch another couple of glasses, partly to put a physical barrier between them. He poured her some water and she sipped it gladly. But she wasn't going to be distracted. 'You said did; past tense?'

Robert took a swig of his own water. 'It's just that lately I've felt like I'm not doing any good anymore.'

'I don't understand.'

'I'm stuck here all the time. Organising.'

'Then if it makes you feel like this, perhaps you shouldn't be.' Adele put the glass down and absently ran her finger around the rim. 'I've always been a big believer in following your heart.' She looked up at him. 'What's it telling you?'

'That's the thing: it's not telling me anything. Or at least nothing I can trust.' Robert let out a breath. 'I don't know why I'm dumping all this on you. I barely even know you.'

Adele smiled again. 'Sometimes it's easier to talk to a stranger than someone… Well, you know.'

Robert nodded. 'Sometimes I guess it is.'