The Robber Knight's Love (The Robber Knight Saga #2)(40)



Then she saw the gleam in Reuben's eyes and suddenly knew that there was a different reason for his words. Reuben was planning something. But what? Why didn't he just kill the monster if he could?

The mercenary was already back on his feet. He was astonishingly quick for such a bulky man. He stood there, staring at Reuben with narrowed eyes.

“You're no castle guard,” he growled. His stance had slightly changed. He held the sword differently than before, more firmly, somehow. “Not the usual sort of riffraff.”

“No, I'm not,” Reuben confirmed, advancing towards him. His head was lowered like that of a bull preparing for a charge. His long black hair, glistening in the rain, was fluttering behind him as shiny, dark flags of death.

The eyes of the mercenary narrowed even more—then suddenly went wide.

“You're the one,” he whispered. “The one who broke into our camp and stole our commander's armor.”

“Not quite.” In a swift ark, Reuben brought down his sword. The mercenary jumped to the side, Reuben changed direction, and the two swords met with a clang. This time, the beefy man held his position. “I was just taking back what is mine.”

“Taking back what is yours? I don't understand what you’re babbling about!”

“I wouldn't expect you to.” Reuben shrugged. “But then, it doesn't matter whether you do, because you'll be dead in a few minutes.”

The mercenary’s face hardened. Reuben loosed another blow at him, which the mercenary evaded by jumping back.

“You? You think you're going to kill me?”

“Oh yes. It will be my pleasure.”

“Bah! I've killed more knights than I can count, you stripling![8] How old are you? Twenty? Twenty-one? I'm not about to be beaten by a green boy like you!”

“You mistake my color,” Reuben said darkly and struck again. And again, the mercenary deflected the blow, although he was forced to step back. With the hand that wasn’t gripping his sword, Reuben lovingly caressed the crimson of his armor. “I don't like green. I prefer wearing red. The blood doesn't show as easily.”

“Ha! Do you think you can frighten me?”

Reuben nodded. “Yes, actually, I do believe I can.”

“No dice!”

Ayla was disturbed by how confident the mercenary was sounding. And she had to admit that Reuben wasn't making a very good show of himself. At first, it had seemed as though he would crush the man—but now, he seemed almost timid. Or holding back. But…why should he hold back?

“You think so, do you?” Reuben asked, almost kindly.

The mercenary spat at his feet.

“Maybe with a couple of your cronies over there. But since your knight's honor won't permit you to let them help, I'll show you what I am capable of.”

“Oh, it is not my honor as a knight that prevents me from letting them help,” Reuben assured him softly. “I just don't want to share the pleasure of killing you.”

The way he said those words…It sent a shiver down Ayla's spine. Even the mercenary looked uneasy for a moment. Then he grinned again.

“You talk and talk but don't do anything,” he growled contemptuously.

“On the contrary,” said Reuben. “I have brought you to where I want you. Open the gates!”

The last three words were shouted as a command. Ayla's eyes widened. Only now did she realize that Reuben's carefully aimed attacks had taken him and the mercenary across the courtyard, right to the inner gates. Hearing Reuben's command, the guards, though they could not have the slightest idea who this fellow in the red armor was, didn't hesitate. The look of him alone was enough to instill the wish for obedience in any man with a sense of self-preservation.

“What the…?” The mercenary turned, trying to see where the strange creaking noises came from that rang through the night as the gates swung open.

With another deafening bellow, Reuben lowered his head and charged at his foe's unprotected back. He rammed into the mercenary and flung him through the air, right through the opening gates, and out onto the outer courtyard.

Ayla felt the grips on her arm loosen in surprise. She rushed forward, and before her guards could grab hold of her again, she was through the gate and in the outer section of the castle. There, the mercenary was just climbing to his feet again, cursing. Reuben advanced on him.

“What the hell was that supposed to be?” the mercenary yelled. “Do you want to fight or butt heads with me?”

“You have comrades out there, watching for your return, yes?” Reuben asked.

“Of course! And?”

“I want them to see this. I want them to remember what happens to anybody who dares to enter this castle uninvited.”

Then he loosed his third and final battlecry and charged again. And this time, he did not hold back, did not rein in his wrath. In a furious storm of blows, he drove the mercenary backwards, down the sloping courtyard, towards the outer wall. The man tried to evade, to duck to the side, but someone with his bulk was no match for Reuben's easy, deadly grace. He was slowly being driven towards one of the towers.

The door stood open. With a particularly heavy blow, Reuben knocked the mercenary right through the narrow doorway into the dark interior of the tower and jumped after him, screaming curses so vile they made Ayla's ears burn red.

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