Grant What I Wish

Grant What I Wish - Chapter 1. A Pawn is Sacrificed

Chapter 1. A Pawn is Sacrificed

O Western wind, when wilt thou blow,
That the small rain down can rain?
Christ, that my love were in my arms,
And I in my bed again!

--Anonymous

The Holy Land, 1193

 

It was hot, so hot. Her side burned with the searing heat of a thousand suns. The pain took her breath away, so that she would not move for fear of sending unbearable spasms throughout her body. She lay in a deadly swoon, incapable of acting or speaking. Someone was crying, calling her name over and over again in a keening wail of despair. Was it Guy? He sounded as if his heart would break. But why would he cry, when it was he who had stabbed her? She had been trying to buy time for the king, but such a foolish way to buy time! Not one of my finer plans, she thought fleetingly.

“Marian, get out of the way!”

“You’ll have to kill me first.”

“No—we’re going to get out of this, you and I. I’m going to do this thing and I will have power beyond measure. And we will be together.”

“I would rather die than be with you, Guy of Gisbourne.”

“No!”

“I’m going to marry Robin Hood. I love Robin Hood.”

She had not expected his obsessive love for her to result in her death. She tried to open her eyes, but the effort was too much.

"I have killed you, the only woman I ever loved, the only woman-oh, Marian, how will I go on?" The voice broke off in wracking sobs, and she felt arms clasp her close. The physical agony was unbearable, and she felt a hot wetness at her side. Darkness threatened to overcome her.

She heard a harsh, cruel voice hammering at the man. "Gisbourne, come! Gisbourne, listen to me-you must come away! There is nothing more to do here! We must leave before Hood and the king's men return. It is too late for her-she's as good as dead already. Move, now!"

Footsteps sounded in the courtyard, and she heard a cacophony of cries and shouts, horses thundering about, a maniacal cry of "I will have England!" The chaotic noise seemed to reverberate through every pore of her body. Death will carry me away soon, she thought drowsily. The thought of darkness and quiet was alluring. A sudden idea pierced the fog: I shall see my father soon. This idea comforted her.

Hands grasped her again and pulled her up, and an insistent voice cried out her name several times. It was Robin, he had come for her! He lifted her in his arms. She wondered weakly where he was taking her. Each step jolted her body, making her wound throb, and she could feel blood run down her side.

After what seemed an eternity, Robin gently placed her on the ground. "She is dead," he choked out, and she heard Much and John cry out in grief. But I'm not, she thought.

"We must bury her," Alan insisted, "We cannot leave her body here to be carrion."

She heard the sound of shovels lifting sand, scraping and grunts. They are digging my grave, she though drowsily. Do they not realize I am alive?

"Robin," Much shouted in a sharp voice. "The Saracens-they are on the horizon! We must return to the citadel and protect the King." She listened to the metallic song that swords sing as they are wrenched from scabbards, and felt reverberations from footsteps pounding away from her. Within moments, she was alone, with only the sigh of the wind to keep her company.

They are leaving me to die alone, she thought calmly. How like Robin. King before woman, holy war over the safety and wellbeing of England's subjects, as it had always been. Why did I never see it so clearly before? He had said his vows to her just a scant hour before-incomplete vows, as it were, since they had been rescued by the king's men before they could complete their recitation.

Now, those vows were forgotten and Robin had left her once more. She had always been an afterthought with him-why did it matter now?

Alas, this is no longer my concern, she thought as she felt her life ebb away. Fingers of darkness reached up and pulled her inexorably down into the earth. Father, I am coming to join you, was her last conscious thought.