The Robber Knight's Love (The Robber Knight Saga #2)(120)

Ayla slowly rose from behind the crenels and stepped around Burchard.

“What are you doing?” He made a grab for her, but she evaded his hand and threw him a look that made him retreat several steps.

“I am Lady Ayla von Luntberg! I will not sit in a corner and wait for the wolves to find me like some frightened rabbit. I will face my enemy!”

Another metallic clang came from somewhere out of the night. And another, and another. And then it came. A silver-black shadow, darting over the wall with an eye-startling speed. The hooked shape flew directly towards her, and, with terror, she saw its sharp points, like metal claws, reaching out to slash her throat.





Red Beast

Something hard smashed into Ayla from the side and hurled her to the ground, landing heavily on top of her. Her head thudded onto the walkway, and multi-colored lights sprang up in front of her eyes.

“Ow!”

“When I dreamed of getting on top of you,” a voice growled into her ear, “this isn't how I imagined it!”

“Reuben?”

“Who else, you silly goose? What, by Satan's hairy ass, are you still doing up here? We agreed that you’d go down as soon as the attack began.”

“No. You agreed with yourself and didn't listen to me.”

“Where's the difference?”

Rolling off her, he sprang up and drew his sword. Smoothly, he took a defensive stance and placed himself in front of the grappling hook that had wedged itself between the crenels.

“Stay back!” With mad energy, he began to hack at the reinforced rope that hung taut from the hook. From below, Ayla could hear the grunts and curses of the men climbing getting louder.

“What does 'puny codpiece' mean?” Ayla demanded.

Startled, Reuben looked around but didn't stop slashing at the rope, which had already been hacked through about a third of the way.

“What? What did you say?”

“Is it really an endearment among soldiers?”

“Ayla, do you really want to discuss this now?”

“Because it sounded rather insulting to me.”

“Ayla! I'm trying to work here!”

“Why are you here, anyway?”

“I'm protecting you!”

“You should be with the archers!”

“They're managing fine without my help!”

“So am I.”

“Oh, really?”

An enemy soldier stuck his head over the crenels. That was the last time he would be doing anything with his head. Reuben separated it from his body with a swipe of his blade, and it tumbled down into the courtyard, spraying blood in all directions, followed shortly by the rest of the corpse. There was a strangled yelp from further down the rope.

The next soldier was somewhat more careful. He slashed with his sword above his head to clear the way before grasping the crenels with his hand.

But the way had not been cleared. Reuben sprang forward, bringing his sword down on the hand clutching the crenel. It dropped away into the darkness.

“Aaaarr! No!”

Desperately, the mercenary tried to hold on to the slippery rope with one hand while blood gushed from the stump of his left arm. To no avail—he lost his grip and fell backwards into the darkness.

Clank! Clank!

Ayla's head whipped to the left. She had been so transfixed by the fight unfolding before her that she hadn't noticed two more grappling hooks which had lodged themselves firmly between the crenels a bit farther down the walkway. Burchard had noticed them, though. He had picked up the sword of the dead mercenary, the bloody, severed hand still clutching the hilt in an unbreakable death-grip, and was hacking away at the rope with all his considerable strength.

Clank!

Each time the sword hit the stone beside the rope, it made a dull, metallic sound. The rope was about to give way when, from beneath the crenels, a guisarme shot up.

Burchard didn't move with Reuben's speed. He jumped back, but too late. The blade of the guisarme hit him in the shoulder, and he was thrown against the wall, limp and unconscious.

“Burchard!” Ayla screamed and wanted to dash forward, but a rough hand grabbed her from behind and held her.

“I told you,” Reuben snarled between gritted teeth, “to stay back!”

One last time, he turned towards the first grappling hook.

“Yaaaa!”

With a bestial cry, he brought down his sword on its rope, and it split with a ripping sound. Ayla just glimpsed the terrified face of a mercenary stretching his hand, too late, out towards the wall—then he and the rope were gone. Again, thunder rumbled across the dark sky.

With a gigantic leap, Reuben crossed the distance and was suddenly beside the limp figure of Burchard.

“Reuben, is he…is he…”

The knight eyed the prone steward for a moment. Then he drew back his hand and gave him a resounding slap across the face. Burchard twitched and groaned a curse.

“He's not dead. He’s going to be fine,” Reuben gave his expert medical opinion.

Ayla opened her mouth and closed it again. She really didn't know what to say to that.

“You should probably get his shoulder fixed up, though,” Reuben conceded. “Aren't you a healer?”

“Yes.”

“Then get to it!”