The Robber Knight's Love (The Robber Knight Saga #2)(110)

“Why not?”

“Because I'm a good Christian.”

He sighed. “That must be awfully boring.”

“I'm sure it has its benefits. Like not burning in purgatory for a few millennia.” She cleared her throat and waited a few moments until she could be sure her voice would sound steady again. “Now, can we please concentrate on the siege?”

Reuben halted his hand. Then, very, very slowly, he began to move it upwards again, just as tortuously slowly as he had moved it down. Ayla nearly collapsed with relief when his fingers were safely out of range and she was free from temptation. He grasped her shoulder again, and, bending over her, he pressed a light kiss on the top of her head that sent delicious shivers through her body.

“As you command, my sweet lady,” he murmured.

He raised his other arm, and, as it encircled her, Ayla didn't resist. She went into his embrace and soaked up all the warmth, strength, and courage he willingly gave her with each passing second. Maybe he was doing the same with her.

A scraping noise echoed across the courtyard, and they sprang apart, looking around wildly.

It was Hans, who was dragging open the second wing of the gates.

“The time is approaching,” Ayla heard Reuben’s voice close to her ear. He still hadn’t let go of her.

When the second wing was fully open, Hans stood for a moment under the open, exposed archway. Then he stepped out into the dark, without looking back.

“I'd better go and tell the men to prepare,” Reuben told her, letting go of her. The feel of him suddenly not there was like having her own heart ripped from her body! Ayla thought she might have cried right there and then if she hadn't needed to keep up a facade for his sake.

He still had hold of her hand. He let it slip from his, one finger at a time. Only when it fell limply to her side did he turn and completely step away.

“Reuben?” she asked suddenly.

“Yes?” He stopped but didn't turn back.

“Will Hans keep his oath?”

“I thought you were so sure, Milady.”

“I was—until a moment ago.”

For a moment there was silent.

Then, “Reuben?”

“Yes?”

“Please tell me our plan is going to work.”

He stood still and silent for a moment longer. Then, without answering her question, he strode off towards the tower and, having reached it, threw the door open.

“Tell the men to ready themselves,” he called down into the dark, his voice rough with tension. “Battle is approaching!”





Thunder and Lightning

The sound of footsteps came from the dark interior of the tower. Only moments later, Burchard stepped out onto the wall, bowing to Ayla and, much more reluctantly, nodding to Reuben.

“The men are ready,” he told them, his voice just as tense as Reuben's. “They only await your signal.”

“Good.”

As the three of them stepped closer together and turned east to watch the outer gates, another clap of thunder sounded. It was closer this time. With a little “plink,” the first raindrop hit Reuben's helmet. Another followed, and another. Burchard put the hood of his cloak up. Reuben unfastened his helmet from the leather strap on his belt and put it in place over his head. He suddenly looked a lot less human and a lot more like the monster Ayla had met in the forest so long ago.

Shivering, Ayla put her arms around herself. She should have remembered to bring a cloak. Now it was too late. Now, she couldn't get off this walkway. She was transfixed by what she knew must be happening beyond the outer wall.

Of course, she couldn't see it, but she could feel it. She could feel the enemy scout spotting the light from Hans’s torch. She could feel him running back to his camp, as fast as his feet would carry him. She could feel him stumbling into the camp, drunk with excitement. She could feel the rising bloodlust of the mercenaries at hearing the news that their enemies' defenses were down. She could feel Sir Luca de Lombardi stepping out of his tent and activity spreading through the camp as he gave the order they had all been waiting for: the order to attack.

The enemy was coming.

So she just stood there, as the rain fell faster and faster, and her dress only provided a rudimentary protection against the elements.

“I can't persuade you to go back into the keep, can I?” Reuben asked.

“No.”

“It will get dangerous up here.”

“I'm fully aware of that.”

She heard him sigh. Without taking his gaze off the outer gate, he shrugged the cloak off his shoulders and hung it around hers. Gratefully, she snuggled into the cloak, which was coarse compared to her usual linen garments, and far too large for her, but oh-so-warm and comforting. And it smelled of Reuben—a wild, manly smell that, when she closed her eyes, almost made her forget where she was. She could roll herself up into a little ball of warmth and pretend that she was safely back at the castle, that the danger was over, and that she and Reuben were alone in a cozy little room, while raindrops pattered on the roof outside…

The harsh noise of metal on stone woke her from her nocturnal daydream. Her eyes snapped open, and she stared in the direction of the gate, where the noise had come from.

She saw only darkness.

“What is it?” she whispered. “What was that noise?”