The Robber Knight's Love (The Robber Knight Saga #2)(24)

He looked up towards the castle again, and every thought of the pursuing army vanished from his mind. Far, far above, he saw a slim, white figure up on the battlements, strongly contrasting with the dark night sky. His heart thudded.

Ayla! She was waiting for him.

A grin spread across his face. Everything was working out exactly as he had planned. He would bring back her horse, and she would fall weeping into his arms, brimming over with thankfulness.

Suddenly, the white figure disappeared from the battlements. Reuben hoped that meant those damn castle gates would open soon. It would be a poor end to his adventure if, after rescuing his lady's beloved horse, he would be slaughtered in front of said lady's castle because she hadn't opened her gates quickly enough.

“Hüa![6] To the left, Satan!” With a violent tug on the reins, Reuben turned the stallion on the narrow mountain path that led up the Luntberg to the gates of the castle. Behind him, he could hear angry shouts as the army pursuing him tried to fit onto a path meant for only a few men to walk abreast.

And yet, in spite of that, some of his enemies seemed to be catching up. When Reuben looked back again, he could see a few riders advancing up the path towards him. Unlike himself, they wore only light armor, and their horses, though inferior to his, were not as tired by the weight. He measured the distance with narrowed eyes. Yes, they were definitely catching up.

He looked ahead again. Still several hundred feet to go to the gates.

Glancing back at the riders after a moment or two, he could see that they had already halved the distance. Normally, Reuben would not have been worried by this. He was confident of defeating any foe. But these riders bore bows, and even the most miserable archer could shoot him with an arrow if he was just a few feet away. He had to move faster!

“Come on, Satan, you old devil! Show me your fiery wings!” Reuben pressed his spurs into the flanks of the stallion. Snorting, the black beast gave him his best effort, sprinting up the hill at a pace that hardly seemed possible for such a massive animal. Still, the enemy was gaining. And the gates, Reuben noted with dismay, still hadn't opened. What was Ayla playing at?

Then, he heard the voice, ringing out over the clamor of the army behind him: “Open the gates! Open the gates, man!”

He smiled to himself as he heard the creaking of ropes and the squeal of metal. The portcullis was being lifted. He always knew his plan would work. Now he only had to live long enough to see its completion!

Another arrow whizzed past him, closer this time. Reuben paid it no heed. He was just about a hundred feet away from the gates now, which were slowly swinging open. Behind them, in the courtyard beyond, he could see flickering torchlight illuminating a maiden with golden hair. He had no mind for any enemies anymore.

As if feeling Reuben's triumph, Satan redoubled his efforts and raced up the rest of the mountain at a prodigious speed, flying between the open gates like an avenging angel. Eleanor came close behind, and the angry shouts of Reuben’s pursuers mingled with the creak of hinges as the gates closed behind him and the portcullis slammed down.

Yes!

Triumphantly, Reuben reigned in his horse—and suddenly found himself surrounded by a ring of steel. More than a dozen guards had gathered in the courtyard, and all were pointing their guisarmes at him. Though they were the ones holding the weapons, not he, all of their faces resembled those of frightened children.

And for good reason, thought Reuben darkly. He looked around and spotted Ayla. She was standing a bit farther back, next to another guard who was holding a torch aloft.

“Milady?” He nodded to her. “If you would be so kind as to clear up this little misunderstanding and tell your friends here to put away their weapons?”

“Take off your helmet,” she said in a slightly hoarse voice. “This time, I want to be sure. I want to see your face.”

Without another word, he reached up and unfastened the leather straps holding his helmet in place. When he removed it and proudly raised his head, so unmistakable with its wild black hair, strong chin, and scimitar-shaped scar, gasps could be heard from all around.

“Reuben the merchant?” whispered one of the soldiers, slowly lowering his weapon.

“Not quite,” said Ayla in a toneless voice, stepping forward. “Climb down from your horse, Sir Knight.”

Again, gasps escaped the assembled crowd.

“Knight?” could be heard in low voices all around. “Did she say knight?”

Ayla paid them no heed. She continued towards Reuben, the soldiers parting before her like the Red Sea before Moses. Reuben climbed from his horse and strode towards her, a grin on his face which was, perhaps, a tiny bit cocky. Now it was time for his reward! What would he get from Ayla for his demonstration of heroism? A tearful apology, maybe? A few caresses? A kiss, even? There were so many possibilities…

He made a little bow to her, more of a nod, really. “I have brought you back the horse which you had…misplaced,” he said, still grinning, pointing to Eleanor.

Ayla had stopped a couple of paces away from him.

“I can see that,” she said in a small voice.

Everyone was watching the two of them. Reuben was rather enjoying himself. This was going to be good. Maybe he would even get more out of her than a kiss. But then he would have to take her to some place more private…Yes, there definitely were many possibilities.

“Reuben?” she said.