The Robber Knight's Love (The Robber Knight Saga #2)(127)
“You can't,” Luca said. “But you can trust that I do not wish to incur the Margrave's displeasure by harming his greatest prize. He is not a man to cross, as this little lady will find out soon.”
He patted Ayla's arm, and she shuddered under his touch. Reuben's wrath flared, but he clamped down on it, controlled it, shoved it away. Amazing what love enabled you to do.
“And the villagers and soldiers?” he asked, stalling.
Just a few more feet now… The small, dark form behind Sir Luca rose slowly.
“They will be punished according to their crimes,” Sir Luca snapped. “Now, put down your sword!”
“Very well.” Reuben bowed his head. Slowly, he opened his fingers, and the giant sword fell from his hand, onto the stone. Everyone was so silent that the clang seemed unnaturally loud.
“I'm unarmed,” Reuben proclaimed, fixing his gaze on a point behind the mercenary commander. “It's up to you now.”
Sir Luca shifted, uncomfortably.
“What? What are you babbling about—”
The shadow sprang!
The Most Fearsome of Foes
The stick wielded by the shadowy figure caught Sir Luca on his hindquarters with full force. Yelling some Italian curse, he stumbled forward, losing hold of both his sword and Ayla in the unexpected attack. Faster than the eye could see, Reuben swept Ayla behind him and caught the Italian's sword. He kicked the man in the stomach, and he was thrown back against the crenels.
“Bastardo! Who dares to…”
Spitting another curse, Luca sprang to his feet again, drawing a dagger and spinning to face the enemy who had attacked him from behind—but there was nobody there. Confused, he stared into empty air, until another whack caught him in the stomach. With a clang, it rebounded off his metal stomach plate. He looked down, in the direction from which the blows had come.
“Eh?”
Large, stubborn, dark eyes under a tangle of black hair looked back at him from behind a defensively raised stick. Sir Luca stared at the little girl in front of him, stupefied.
“Una bambina? En che modo…?”
His concentration was fully focused on her. That was the moment Reuben had been waiting for.
His arm came around Luca's throat from behind, yanking him away from the little girl and holding him as tightly as a metal vice. The sword in his hand came up at the same time and struck true.
With a wet noise, Sir Luca de Lombardi's head was severed from his body. It flew to the side, smashing against the crenels and, still encased in its helmet, landed rattling on the walkway. The rest of the body slipped from Reuben's grasp and crashed onto the stones, gushing blood.
Nobody spoke.
Nobody made a sound.
With an interested expression on her face, the little girl walked over to the stuffed helmet of Sir Luca and prodded it with her stick. It rolled to and fro a bit, creaking.
“Was that the evil man who wanted to lock Agnes up in a tower?” she demanded.
“I don't know,” admitted Reuben, watching the child with interest. “Who’s Agnes?”
“She's my dolly.”
“Oh, I see.” Reuben unstrapped his helmet. Taking a deep breath of fresh air, he wiped the sweat from his forehead. “Still can't help you, I'm afraid. I have no idea whether he was the particular evil man who was after your doll. He was certainly an evil man, though. That much I do know.”
“I see.” The little girl nodded, content. “Well, in that case, I guess it’s good he got his head chopped off.”
“Indeed, it is.”
“Though you might have chopped off other parts of him first.”
Reuben grinned. He was starting to like this little girl's philosophy.
“Haven't we met before?” he enquired, scrutinizing the scruffy little creature in front of him more closely.
“Aye. I heard your speech.”
“Of course! My first volunteer! How could I forget?”
She turned toward him, grinning up at him and doing a cross between a crouch and a curtsy. “My name is Fye.”
He returned the greeting by executing a perfect courtly bow, as deep as any queen would receive from him.
“Charmed to meet you, Lady Fye. Now, if you will excuse me—I have some matters left over that I have to take care of.”
“Certainly.”
Reuben turned, fixing his glare upon the remaining enemy soldiers, who still stood as unmoving as pillars of salt, some on the walkway, some still down in the courtyard, some even frozen in the act of climbing up the wall. Now, as Reuben's ferocious raptor's gaze focused upon them, they seemed, for the first time, to notice that the outcome of the duel hadn’t improved their situation a great deal. Quite the contrary, in fact.
Reuben raised his sword, pointing at them. “You,” he said, his voice coming right from the darkest pit of hell, “are dead.”
Then, with an animalistic roar, he threw himself into the combat. He hurled enemies right and left with so much force that they sailed right over the top of the crenels and into nothingness, or else down into the courtyard, to a quick death on the hard cobblestones. He stabbed, he hacked, he killed by every method known to men, and a few known only to devils.
“Ayla!” He shouted over his shoulder without stopping to turn. “Go into the tower and lock the doors! Lock the doors!”