He gave a little smile. “My foul-mouthed warrior.”
“Marian,” Gisbourne said, and it felt like a slap.
Shaking, I leaned up and kissed Rob’s cheek, blinking back watery eyes. Hell would rise up to Heaven before I cried in front of Gisbourne, even for Rob. “This isn’t over, Robin. You have an awful lot you need to explain.”
He squeezed me tight. “Stay alive, Scar, so I can have that chance.”
“Go.”
He slipped away from me and struggled down to the people. Their murmurs rose like water to catch him, and several stepped up to support him, carrying him like the prince he were meant to be. Guards brought Godfrey forward and let them both go from the hall free. It were a strange thing to see, outlaws walking away without so much as a skirmish. Rob didn’t look back at me, and I felt Gisbourne’s hand close over mine sure as if it were closing over my throat.
“I haven’t a ring for you, but I hope you’ll forgive the oversight.”
“Nonsense,” the sheriff cried, pulling the silver band from his finger and passing it to Gisbourne. He knelt over Ravenna’s body, pried the band from her still finger, and handed it to Gisbourne too. “Someone might as well use them.”
My stomach disagreed as Gisbourne took it and handed me the man’s ring, still warm from Nottingham’s hand.
“Sh-shall we begin?” the priest asked. His hands on the Bible shook.
“Yes,” Gisbourne snapped.
The priest’s voice wobbled as he said the ill-fated words for the second time that day. He turned to Gisbourne first, asking, “Guy of Gisbourne, will thou have this woman to thy wedded wife, will thou love her and honor her, keep her and guard her, in health and in sickness, as a husband should a wife, forsaking all others on account of her, so long as ye both shall live?”
“I will,” he growled, clawing his short nails at my hand.
“And Marian Fitzwalter of Leaford, will thou have this lord to thy wedded husband, will thou love him and honor him, keep him and obey him, in health and in sickness, as a wife should a husband, forsaking all others on account of him, so long as ye both shall live?”
I waited three breaths, and I felt them rush through my lungs like the last gulps of air before drowning. “I will,” I said. I felt dizzy. All this time, all this fighting it, and I had married him.
“You have the rings?”
Gisbourne nodded, taking my hand and pushing Ravenna’s pretty ring on my finger. “I take you, Guy, as my wedded husband,” I said, my voice shaking. “And thereto I plight my troth.” Sickness washed over me. I trembled as I put my ring on Gisbourne, and he smiled, big and smug.
“I take you, Marian, as my wedded wife,” he told me, pulling me closer. “And thereto I plight my troth.”
“Receive the Holy Spirit,” the priest told him, kissing Gisbourne’s cheek. Gisbourne turned to me, grabbing my chin in one big paw and pushing my mouth to his. It were hard, so hard my teeth bit my lip, and he pushed his tongue at my mouth but I kept my lips closed tight. He pinched my side vengeful-like, but I didn’t open.
He let me go.
“You are now married in the eyes of God,” the priest said. He sounded mournful.
I didn’t wait longer.
I pulled away from Gisbourne, turning to the gibbet, but he grabbed my shirt and threw me back. He stamped his foot on my chest. “Running so soon, my dear?”
I drew a knife and snarled, trying to drive it into the tendon at the back of his heel, but he jumped free of me. I whipped up, wincing at the pain in my back, and the sheriff caught me, bringing his knife to my throat.
His beard rubbed my cheek and he laughed. “Gotcha.”
“Let go of my wife, Nottingham,” Gisbourne growled.
I didn’t think Gisbourne could surprise me, but that fair did it. The sheriff too, far as I could tell, because he loosed enough for me to wrench his arm back and slam my head into the bridge of his lowborn nose.
Gisbourne slashed his sword at my stomach and I jumped back, hissing as it nicked a light slice. “If anyone’s going to kill you, it’s damn well going to be me!” he bellowed.
He had to yell for me to hear him. The townspeople were taking the guards and working them over, trying to get to the dais. The bright colors were running blood black, the wedding shattering into violence.
Maybe there were too much going on. Maybe the fierce pain, like a flame coming from my sliced shoulder, were addling my brain. Maybe the cursed ring on my finger meant I weren’t so interested in staying alive anymore. Whatever the reason, I weren’t as quick as I should’ve been. I backed up again and tripped over Ravenna’s body, and Gisbourne stepped forward and grabbed my throat.
He dragged me closer to him, and I tried to regain my feet, but I kept slipping in her blood. He squeezed hard enough to hold me up, hard enough to kill.
I tried to yell, but the sound came out a raw gurgle.
He tossed his sword up and snatched it from the air by the blade, his hand protected by his thick leather gloves. I started flailing, kicking, and hitting, but I couldn’t get him. And where I could, it didn’t seem to matter—he didn’t notice, couldn’t feel it. “It seems you need a reminder of just what kind of a man I am, Marian,” he said.
He twisted my head so my left cheek were up, and I drew in a thin little wisp of a breath and tried harder to kick, to stab, to claw.
He pushed the tip of the sword into my cheek, biting deep and drawing a new gash where the old scar had lain.
My eyes went starry dark, and without any sound on my lips, I moved them in prayer.
Whether they meant it or not, my band (and I’m fair sure God, too) were still watching my back, because it were just that minute that the whole place rocked with the force of an explosion.
He dropped me. My head slammed against the floor and the cut on my shoulder from the day before screamed. A cough grabbed my chest as I sucked in a breath, scrambling to my feet.
It were chaos. The townspeople had charged the dais, and someone were fighting Gisbourne.
I took a deep breath, wiping the water and blood from my eyes and scrabbling on top of the gibbet. I gritted my teeth as I started to climb up the chain, pain lancing through every bit of me and blood running down my cheek.
“Marian!” he bellowed, so loud his voice shook the chain. “You are my goddamn wife!”
“I said I’d marry you—I never promised I’d stay with you, Guy!” I spat back.
He felled the farmer he were fighting, and I halted on the chain, watching the man fall. My hands were slipping and I held tighter, not sure whether to go down and help or run.