The Robber Knight's Love (The Robber Knight Saga #2)(37)

As quickly as he could, he scaled the wall of Luntberg castle. Normally, it would have been easy, the rough stone providing many foot and handholds. But with the rain making even rough stone as slippery as an eel's privates, and the movements of his hands inhibited by thick, armored gloves, he had to be careful not to make a mistake and fall. And he couldn't fall. He couldn't die yet. Not while Ayla was in the captivity of these monsters. And certainly not while he hadn't yet beaten that beefy bastard into a bloody pulp!

Inch for inch, he proceeded down the wall. It was tiring work. Although he could feel no ache in his muscles, naturally, he could feel a dull tiredness creeping into them, slowing his movements and making his fingers stiff. Satan's hairy ass, this was no work for a knight! He should be cutting people to ribbons, not climbing some infernal wall! Yet he had to get down. He had to!

He climbed and climbed, and all the while, he could hear the voices of the mercenaries beneath him, approaching, arguing. They were still inside the castle. He had to get down before they got out, otherwise…

And then it happened.

A piece of old stone broke away under the weight of his descending boot, and his hands grasped at the air in a vain attempt to grab again the hold he had just let go of. A strange feeling of mixed freedom and dread engulfed him as he fell, and his limbs flailed uselessly through the air.

And in the brief seconds before he hit the roof, only one thought pervaded his mind: He wasn't far enough down yet. Not far enough to not break every bone in his body when he smashed onto the roof!

Air rushed past him at deadly speed.

Oh, Ayla, he thought, and closed his eyes. I'm sorry. I couldn't even get to the first item on the list.





Blood on the Cobblestones

Reuben hit the stork's nest with a resounding thump! Even had it not been for the noise, though, the stork family living on the castle roof would probably have been awakened by a 6-foot-7-inch ironclad figure crashing into the middle of their home. The stork father pecked at Reuben, who rolled away and shielded his eyes, cursing.

Still in one piece! The blasted thing had cushioned his fall, and he was still in one piece! Although the breath had been knocked out of him, Reuben dragged himself to his feet and stumbled farther down the roof. It took him only a few moments to find his strength again, and his movements steadied. Behind him, the stork family shrieked in triumph over the fleeing intruder.

“Now I definitely heard something!” he heard one of the mercenaries call out, still from inside the castle.

“Yes,” the beefy one growled back. “A stork! Now shut up and move, or I'll give you a taste of my blade!”

Underneath him, the voices of the mercenaries continued through the keep and towards the exit. Reuben scuttled over the roof tiles, following closely. By the time he had reached the edge of the roof, he felt like himself again. He knew, because he could remember every single item on the list.

Peering over the edge, Reuben saw the flickering light that emanated from the half-closed keep door. It increased in intensity as the voices and steps of the men approached. One of them had to be carrying a torch. They were approaching quickly. He had to hurry!

Quiet as the night, Reuben swung himself over the edge and again began to climb down the castle wall, more careful not to slip this time. There was no roof beneath him now, only cobblestones. No storks built their nests there.

He climbed and climbed, getting more desperate and ferocious as he went. The voices were getting closer so quickly, and he didn't seem to be making any headway at all. Then, suddenly, his foot came down on stone. A windowsill? No! This was the archway! The archway over the keep door - what he had been waiting for!

Carefully, he positioned his feet so they stood solidly on the slippery stone. Then he turned, slowly.

Underneath him, he could see the courtyard, a maze of shadows thrown by the crenels high up on the walls. Guards had assembled from all directions, their faces grim, their spears in hand. They had realized that intruders were in the castle and were waiting for them to emerge, to be able to surround them. All their eyes were fixed on the door under Reuben's feet. Nobody had spotted him, crouching on top of the archway, in the shadows.

“Whoever you are,” called the man who seemed to be in command of the soldiers, “come out and lay down your arms! I am Captain Linhart, vassal to the mistress of this castle, and I command you to surrender!”

“Surrender?” came the mocking voice of the beefy mercenary from inside the castle. “I don't think so.”

“We know your numbers. We caught the lookout you left on the walls. You cannot hope to match us. Surrender, and maybe Lady Ayla will spare your lives.”

“Will she, now? How very nice of her.”

Beneath Reuben, the door was thrust fully open, and light flooded into the courtyard. Captain Linhart gasped, and his spear, leveled at the door just a moment ago, sank limply to the ground.

“Milady!” he whispered, horror-struck.

Reuben's jaw muscles tightened. He could imagine all too well what the captain was seeing.

“Now, you all drop your weapons and back away,” the mercenary growled, still just inside the keep. “Or this pretty little lass gets a second pair of lips—blood-red ones, on her throat!”

The soldiers stayed where they were but shifted uncomfortably.

“Do it!” The man snarled. “Now!”