The Robber Knight's Love (The Robber Knight Saga #2)(148)

Thank the Lord that he was at least wearing his armor! It would have been much worse if she had been able to feel the heat of his body, and his strong muscles separated from her only by a few layers of thin linen, close enough to…

Stop! Stop thinking about him without clothes, right away! Clear head, remember? Clear head!

“You know,” Reuben remarked drowsily, “maybe I should take my armor off. It's quite a hot day, and…”

“No! Um…you…you should definitely keep it on. Because, um…bandits might attack at any moment! Yes, bandits.”

“Bandits?” Smiling in a way that made it very hard for her to breathe, he leaned even closer. She could feel his breath upon her cheek. “Are you afraid some churl might rob you of your virtue? That's a little far-fetched, don't you think?” He waved at the landscape. “Looks pretty peaceful to me.”

“Looks can be deceiving,” she replied, breathless, but audible at least. “Some days, these forests, however peaceful they look, are infested with ruthless robber knights.”

He gave a low chuckle. Ayla felt the reverberation going through her entire body, stirring something deep inside her.

“Point taken.” Reuben gave a little bow of his head. “You are very wise to be cautious, Milady. Robber knights can be very dangerous.”

“I've noticed,” was all she could manage to whisper.

They sat a while in peaceful silence. Ayla just enjoyed the peace and Reuben's proximity. He didn't make any more offers to take his armor or anything else off, for which she was intensely grateful. She wasn't exactly sure she would have the strength of character required to refuse.

After a while, the silence was interrupted by Reuben's chuckle. Ayla looked up at him. She hadn't said anything funny, had she? In fact, she hadn't said anything at all. She had tried to think of a way of how to phrase what she had to discuss with him, but no words had actually passed her lips.

Then she noticed that Reuben wasn't looking at her. His amusement seemed to be directed at something different. Following his gaze, she saw he was looking at the meadow. There, Eleanor and the black stallion with the unmentionable name were no longer running freely over the grass, but standing close to one another—very close to one another indeed.

“They seem to be getting on very well together, don't they?” Reuben's voice was full of dry humor.

“I suppose so,” Ayla grudgingly admitted.

“Just think,” he sighed. “A beast of a stallion, used to heavy combat and travel throughout the kingdoms of Christendom and beyond, and a sweet, innocent, young mare who has never left her native pastures. That is the stuff epic romances are made of.”

Ayla swallowed.

We're talking about horses, she told herself. Nothing more, nothing less. But inside, she knew that wasn't true. There were words, hidden behind the words that Reuben spoke aloud. She felt it would be best to put a stop to it right away. So she shook her head energetically.

“Epic romance? I call it bad judgment. But Eleanor never had good taste in stallions.”

“You are very harsh, Milady.”

“Not so. I'm simply realistic.”

“I see.” Thoughtfully, Reuben scratched his stubbly chin. The motion was distracting. It made Ayla want to follow the path of his fingers with her own. “But, as you see, they seem pretty sure about each other.” He gestured towards Eleanor, who was rubbing her head against the neck of that accursed black stallion. Ayla decided that she would have to have a very firm talk with her mare once they were back at Luntberg Castle.

“Yes, it seems so, Reuben. And?”

Reuben's eye was no longer focused on the horses. He was looking off into the distance.

“Do you think they will find happiness together?” he asked in a low voice.

Ayla swallowed. This was it. The pretense had fallen away. She had to chance it, now or never.

“I think that kind of depends on Satan.”

“Does it?”

“Yes.”

“In what way, Milady?”

“Well…horses can be very secretive animals. I'm sure there's a lot he is keeping back. A lot he hasn't told her about himself.”

“Such as?”

Here it comes, she thought, gathering her strength. Soon, she would know.

“Such as his past. Such as what made him the way he is.”

Reuben's expression had turned stony. “Why would she need to know?”

“Maybe,” Ayla whispered, tears coming to her eyes, “because she's afraid.”

“She doesn't need to be. Everything is fine, just fine.”

There was a silence. Suddenly, Ayla whirled around to face him.

“How did you do it, Reuben?” she demanded. “How did you hold a flaming torch with your bare hands?”

“I thought we were talking about horses?” Reuben asked, raising an eyebrow..

“Answer me!”

But he didn't. Fear began welling up in Ayla, faster and higher than ever before. “I-is it because…because you…”

“What?” Reuben looked at her curiously. She blushed. Oh dear Lord, how to say this…

“Is it because you are a servant of the devil?” she blurted out. “Flames are the Devil's domain, and you always swear by the Devil, and so I thought that maybe you sold your soul to him or are the offspring of a demon or maybe the great-grandchild of a witch or something and have the blood of the devil flowing in your veins and have control over the powers of hell! I mean, I wouldn’t judge you, it’s not your fault who your parents were, but if you haven’t repented and come back to God and are still an Apostate and Heretic and haven’t been baptized, I don’t know what to do because I love God and believe in him with all my heart and though I love you, too, so much, and Reuben, I couldn't…I just couldn't…”