The Robber Knight's Love (The Robber Knight Saga #2)(151)

“Well, yes, but…”

“But what?” Ayla inquired, stroking Fye's wild locks.

“There could always come another. The world is full of baddies.”

“She actually does have a point there,” Reuben commented. Turning her head, Ayla hissed, “Don't encourage her!”, then went back to ignoring him again.

“We'll keep you and Agnes safe from all the baddies,” she told Fye. “Don't you worry. We'll…”

“Fye! Fye!”

Ayla looked up to see the girl’s mother, Margaret, hurrying over the courtyard, straight towards them.

“Oh Fye, where have you been! I've been looking all over the place for you. I… Milady!”

Only then did she recognize Ayla and dipped a hurried curtsy. “Begging your pardon, Milady. I hope she hasn't inconvenienced you?”

“Not in the least,” Ayla assured her and handed the daughter to her mother. “She is a wonderful little girl. You should be very proud of her. Only…if I were you, I would probably keep her away from any sharp objects.”

“Sharp objects, Milady?”

“Don't ask.”

“Yes, Milady. Thank you for the advice, Milady.”

When Ayla turned, relieved to be free of her contrary charge, she found Reuben, not looking at her, but still gazing with interest after the child being carried off by its mother. She was having some difficulty trying to pry the stick from Fye's hands.

“What is it?” Ayla asked, suspicious.

“She's got courage, that one,” Reuben remarked, nodding into the direction where the little girl and Margaret had just disappeared behind one of the outer buildings.

“And a streak of madness, Reuben! Who ever heard of a girl fighting with a sword?”

“Oh, I don't know.” Stepping closer, he grinned at her lasciviously. “I could probably teach you how to do a few interesting things with my sword. Only, I'm not sure whether you could handle such a mighty weapon.”

Ayla contemplated his statement quietly for a few moments, taking into account all she knew of him. Then she asked, trying to keep her voice relaxed,“We're not talking about actual sword fighting anymore, are we?”

“You get to know me better and better every day,” Reuben agreed cheerfully.

“Reuben?”

“Yes, Milady?”

“You are a gutter-minded rogue.”

“Yes, Milady.”

“That doesn't disturb you in the least, does it?” she asked, slightly vexed.

“No, Milady.”

As she studied him, the grin on his face slowly faded until it was replaced by an expression of such indecipherable yearning that it cut her heart. Slowly, he raised his hand and touched her cheek, just once.

“Does it disturb you?” He wanted to know.

“Sometimes.”

“But not all the time?”

“No. Definitely not.”

How quickly they had returned from teasing to serious talk. Ayla threw a look over her shoulder. All the soldiers were busy with their training and out of hearing range. Raising her hand to her cheek, she took his hand in hers and squeezed it gently. Standing up on her tiptoes, she leaned forward.

“I love you,” she whispered into his ear. “I don't ever want you to forget that. But I want to know someday, Reuben. About your past, I mean. Someday, I will need to know.”

Letting go of his hand, she turned and was just about to move away when Reuben's voice halted her in mid-step.

“Ayla?”

She took a deep breath. “Yes, Reuben?”

“What I told you was true. I didn't sell my soul to the devil.”

She heard the unspoken word in the air.

“But?” She prompted, her voice hoarse.

“But he might be taking a special interest in me nonetheless.”

For a moment, Ayla just stood there. Then, she slowly turned, but only half-turned, so Reuben could just see her stubbornly raised chin and her mouth, quirked up at the corners.

“Then I'll deal with him when he comes!”





Embarrassing House-Building

Time passed quickly as all the castle inhabitants kept themselves busy. One of the most pressing tasks was the final disposal of over five hundred bodies of slain enemy soldiers. Under Reuben's orders, the castle guards had had to carry them out of the castle to a distant, arid piece of land first thing after the battle. But there were so many of them that this task alone had taken days to accomplish. By that time, the air around the corpses was unsavory to say the least, or, as Reuben preferred to express it, “Like a fart out of hell!”

At first, Ayla had wanted to give all of them a Christian burial.

“Have you lost your mind?” Reuben roared at her.

They were assembled in the great hall, which was, by now, free of village refugees. Not all of the castle’s commanders were there. Burchard, Captain Linhart, Reuben, and Sir Waldar were all gathered around Ayla, but Sir Rudophus was still happily employed, stockpiling and counting sacks of grain.

“As much as I hate to admit it, for once I have to agree with Sir Reuben.” Burchard made a face that clearly showed it caused him physical pain to say this. His mustache was bristling like an angry hedgehog.