The Robber Knight's Love (The Robber Knight Saga #2)(12)

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Sir Rudolfus was waiting for her down in the cellar. As Burchard opened the door for her and held the torch he carried aloft so she might pass, Ayla caught a glimpse of the young knight's long, eager face and big red ears.

Well, she thought. Here's one, at least, who doesn't seem to be particularly upset about the fact that we're all doomed to a slow death. But maybe he's juggling too many numbers in his head to think of that.

“Good day, Milady, good day,” he welcomed her, gesturing for her to come nearer with the slate pencil he held in one hand.

“It is the middle of the night,” observed Ayla.

“Is it?” Sir Rudolfus blinked at her and scratched himself behind one of his big ears with the pencil. Then he brightened, pointing at the dark vaulted ceiling of the cellar and the torches burning around them on the walls. “Kind of hard to tell down here, isn't it, though?”

“You've been down here all night?” Ayla asked, incredulous.

“Of course, of course. There were a lot of things that needed cataloging and assessing.”

Absent-mindedly, Ayla wondered whether he had noticed that, above his head, there had raged a great battle and that hundreds of people had only just managed to escape into the castle with their lives. Probably not. Oh, well, she had ordered him to busy himself down here, so she could hardly fault him for being immersed in his work.

“So, how do we stand?” she asked.

“Hmm?” Sir Rudolfus was already busy perusing the wax tablet in his hand again, scribbling down notes and calculating numbers.

“I asked, how do we stand, Sir Rudolfus?”

“Hmm…on two legs, I should imagine…forty-one plus three hundred thirty-seven equals three hundred seventy-eight, minus twenty-one…”

“Sir Rudolfus!” Ayla clapped her hands, and the sound echoed loudly enough to get his attention.

“Oh, err…yes, Milady. Was there something you wanted?”

“I thought there was something you wanted. You had me called here to talk over our situation regarding our provisions, did you not?”

“Of course!” He nodded eagerly, beaming at her. “Thank you for reminding me.”

“You have finished assembling everything we have and taking stock?”

“Indeed, I have. If you would like to follow me, Milady, and you, Burchard, please hold the torch aloft…”

He led them to a back area of the cellar, where countless crates and barrels were stacked onto each other. Big sausages and slices of salted pork hung from the ceiling and sacks of flour had been arranged atop the crates. Everything was arranged in the most neat and orderly manner imaginable.

“We have twenty sacks of flour, five barrels of wine, five barrels of mead, thirty-two sausages, ten pieces of salted pork, and ten crates full of smaller receptacles holding honey, herbs, pickles, and various other foodstuffs. And, you see, I have stored everything in impeccable order and sorted all we have according to importance, and where that is not distinguishable, after the letters of the alphabet. Here, we have herbs, and in the next crate, there is honey, and in this one…”

“What is this?” Ayla interrupted. She had only just noticed that everything that was piled up in the cellar had not been placed on the floor itself but on a wooden platform, which again was resting on several wooden supports formed on both sides like an upturned letter “L.” Following her outstretched finger with his gaze, Sir Rudolfus brightened even more.

“Oh! I'm so glad that you asked me about this, since it is one thing I am particularly proud of. You see, it occurred to me that, during the siege, rats might wish to partake of our food, which, considering our limited supplies, would not be a very good thing.”

“Not be a very good thing?” Burchard grunted, incredulous. “It would be catastrophic!”

“Quite so!” Sir Rudolfus confirmed delightedly. “So I hit upon this idea: placing all the food on a platform in the middle of the room and putting the platform on supports which are not straight, but are slimmer at the bottom than they are at the top. You see, rats could run up a straight support, since they can run up a wall for a few feet. But, unlike spiders and other insects, they cannot walk on the ceiling, and thus will fall off the support when it widens above them.”

“Meaning?” asked Burchard, who stared at Sir Rudolfus as if the man were a rat himself—and a two-headed one at that.

“Meaning that our food is safe from all vermin!” Sir Rudolfus exclaimed delightedly. “I learned this little trick from a merchant from eastern Europe, who had seen farmers in Russia store their corn in this way. Isn't the human mind a wondrous thing?”

“Wondrous indeed,” Ayla confirmed, making a mental note not to underestimate this lanky youth again. He may not be any use in battle, but he most certainly had brains. Looking at the immense mass of supplies stashed behind the excited Sir Rudolfus, she had to admit to herself that she was beginning to see a tiny glimmer of hope. Maybe they could just sit this out, wait in the castle until the Margrave's men got tired of waiting and left.

But then she reminded herself that, while there might be a great deal of food, there were also a great many hungry mouths to feed right now. And the most vital question had not been answered yet.

“All this is very well, Sir Rudolfus,” she said. “You have told me exactly how much food we possess—but I still have to ask you: what does that mean for us?”