William chose his words carefully. “You know I believe you. But you have to admit, you’ve been up to some unusual things. You can’t blame me for worrying about … about whether your priorities may have … shifted. Even Marion had her doubts about you.”

That seemed to strike a nerve.

“What does that mean?” Robin asked. “What did she say about me?”

“Nothing.” William replayed the conversation back in his mind, the what-ifs they couldn’t ignore. “She thought perhaps you had gone back, and were responsible for it. She was worried maybe you were … trying to prove yourself to her.”

“She actually said that?”

“Actually, she wanted me to give you a message. She said she truly hoped you had nothing to do with it, for the sake of her sister.” Marion hadn’t explained the message, but insisted it would mean something to Robin. And it did. His mouth gaped without an answer, he sat down and tried to shake it off, but he was rattled.

“Well I didn’t,” he said at last. “I didn’t see it coming. Honestly William, I don’t know why on earth they would do such a thing. I really don’t.”

This part, though, William knew. He had visited the killers in their cells yesterday morning, hoping he would lose control and strangle them. “They said there was a … a child that was killed.”

“What? They killed a child, too?”

“No, no. One of theirs. They claimed it was revenge, for an incident in Bernesdale, they said. Some boy, some orphan boy.”

Robin sat up, instantly alert. “Much?”

“Much, yes, that was the name.”

Robin stood, clearly agitated by the news. “I never should have left them.”

William hadn’t guessed Robin would have known the child. Surely he could recognize he wasn’t responsible for what happened. Robin was no more to blame than Roger de Lacy. “I’m sure you did what you could.”

“No,” Robin jerked, “I didn’t. I was supposed to train them. I knew they had violent instincts, and I…” He trailed away, and his face flushed red.

William had no idea what to say. He swore there were tears forming in Robin’s eyes. But Robin bit it off, he breathed in deeply and came back down.

“My brother,” he said, staring elsewhere, “killed Marion’s sister. Edmond was my responsibility. I was supposed to train him, I was supposed to teach him how to control himself … and I didn’t.”

“Robin,” William’s heart broke for his friend, “you can’t put this on yourself. Whatever your brother did … whatever these outlaws have done … it’s not on you. Don’t do that to yourself.”

But Robin grimaced. “I could have tried harder. I dismissed them as hopeless, but they didn’t know what they were doing. I, of all people, should have recognized that. They have no idea…”