The Robber Knight's Love (The Robber Knight Saga #2)(149)

She stopped, because Reuben had burst out laughing.

“Reuben!” she whimpered in embarrassment, her blush reaching astronomic proportions. “I'm trying to be serious here!”

“S-sorry! You're just so…so…”

“Funny?”

“Well, yes.” He chuckled again. “I swear by the devil because I haven't had very good experiences with the servants of God on this earth, Milady. But no, I have not sold my soul to the fiend below, if that's what you're afraid of.”

“Oh, thank God!”

Ayla slumped back against the tree, covering her face with her hands.

“Shouldn't you rather be thanking me?” She heard Reuben's voice somewhere from her left. “After all, it's my soul. I can do with it whatever I want.”

“Keep hold of it for my sake, will you?” she muttered. This covering of her face with her hands was a great idea! He couldn't see her burning hot blush this way.

“I've got a better idea, Milady. I'll give it to you, and you can take care of it for me.”

The words fell on Ayla’s heart like Manna on the desert. Slowly, she let her hands slide down her face and peeked between the tips of her fingers. The corners of her mouth moved up in a small smile.

“That sounds nice,” she ventured.

Reuben grasped her shoulders. “I think so, too.”

“But it doesn't answer my original question.” Ayla steeled herself. “I need to know, Reuben. Before I…commit myself to anything, I need to know who and what you are.”

His face darkened.

“You didn't think you had me distracted, did you?” Somehow, Ayla actually found the strength to grin at him, although her heart was pounding fast again. “I'm not so easily sidetracked.”

“No,” he growled. “That would make things far too easy.” There was tension around his eyes. Ayla could see it as clearly as the love that burned in their gray depths. “Satan's hairy ass! Can't you just forget about this? For me? Please?”

“Don't swear! And…no, I can't, Reuben.” A shudder ran down her body, and there was nothing she could do to keep him from feeling it. With her mind's eye, she once again saw his hand, firmly grasping the burning wood, unmoving, unflinching. “For you, I would do almost anything. But forget…that? No, I can't, I'm sorry.”

He bowed his head. “I understand.”

“So will you tell me?”

His lips opened. Ayla could see them tremble slightly. Was he going to answer? She couldn't tell. His tongue darted out to moisten his lips.

“Ayla, I… “

“Milady!”

Ayla's head whipped around at the sudden shout. She had been so focused on Reuben that she hadn't noticed the rider coming up from behind. Only now did she see the man with the Luntberg crest on his jerkin, galloping towards them on a light gray mount. The animal was exhausted, and at another time, Ayla might have chided the soldier for riding so hard on an animal that obviously wasn’t used to it, but when she caught sight of the soldier’s face, she bit back her words and came to her feet.

“What's the matter?” she demanded. “Speak up!”

The soldier sprang from the horse's back and ran the last few yards towards her. Coming to an abrupt halt, he just stood there, wringing his hands frantically and turning his head back and forth between the castle behind him and Ayla, at whom he stared imploringly.

“Milady,” he gasped. “You have to come to the castle now!”

Putting her fingers to her lips, Ayla called Eleanor to her with a loud whistle. Quickly, she picked up the saddle and strapped it onto the mare's back as Reuben did the same with the horse who must not be named.

“Why?” she demanded, swinging herself into the saddle. “What is happening?”

Suddenly, a horrible possibility occurred to her—one she had almost thought impossible now that they were all supposed to be safe.

“Are we under attack?” she demanded.

“Well…” The soldier hesitated, looking back at the castle again. “I'm not sure, exactly.”

“What do you mean, you're not sure?” Reuben barked at the man. He was in the saddle now, too, doing his best to control the excited stallion beneath him. “It can't be that difficult to tell, can it? Are the soldiers being attacked or aren't they?”

The man looked from Ayla to Reuben, and then quickly back to Ayla. There was helpless, shameless pleading in his eyes as he stared up at her.

“Well, yes. And no. And yes. I guess we are. Can you please just come? And quickly? We don't know what to do!”





Under Attack

“Stand and fight, you mangy, weather-bitten cur!”

The mangy, weather-bitten cur, who was actually quite a pleasant-looking young soldier, had no intention of doing anything of the sort. He backed up until he stood with his back to the barrack wall, then ducked out of the way of the next upcoming blow. The stick wielded by his opponent missed him by an inch or so, bouncing off the wall with a dull thud.

“Coward! You flee from my prowess with the blade!”

“Um…it's not a blade,” one of the horrified onlookers dared to mention. “It's just a stick.”