The Robber Knight's Love (The Robber Knight Saga #2)(52)

She didn't say a word, just gave a little, shaky nod and got to her feet. Reuben knew she had gone as far as she was going to go today—as far as her honor and her fragile, broken heart would allow her to go. He let her leave without protest. At the door, she stopped once more and, without turning, said, “Sir Reuben?”

“Yes, Milady?”

“Now that your imprisonment is ended, you can walk abroad again.”

“Indeed I can.”

“I should be happy to see you up on the wall now and again. We face a mighty and perfidious foe, and I would be glad of any advice or help you could give me, if you are so inclined.”

Reuben's voice was as hard as steel and as honest as stone as he replied, “My sword is yours, Milady.”

He could hear Ayla let out a breath she had been holding.

“That,” she said in a soft voice, “is what I had been hoping to hear.”

Then she left the room, leaving behind a dazzled robber knight who had to deal with the traumatic experience of having, for the first time in his life, agreed to fight a war without getting any ravishing or plunder out of it.





Coming Out

Reuben lay quietly on his bed for a while after Ayla had left. The maid came in and brought him his breakfast. He ate the breakfast. Then he lay quietly on his bed some more.

The sun slowly rose, and he continued to lie quietly on his bed. He watched the color of its light change on the wall. When it had changed from a faint rose to the golden color of glorious morning, he rose and began to prepare himself, putting on not only his clothes and mail, but his plate armor as well. This was no time to do things halfway. This was a time of war.

Finally, he threw over a long black cloak he found hanging in the garderobe. He wasn't exactly sure how forthcoming Ayla had been about his true identity to the other inmates of the castle. True, after his entrance the other day, there was hardly any doubt for those who had a copper's worth of brains in their heads. But still…he felt slightly apprehensive.

This was the first time he would be leaving his room. Really leaving his room. Not sneaking out in the middle of the night or forcing his way past his guards, but walking through Ayla's castle as a free man.

As her defender, though the others didn't know that yet.

His dark coat swirling behind him, he marched to the door and threw it open.

The corridor was empty of guards. She had spoken the truth. Despite her words, she apparently trusted him.

As he strode down the corridor towards the stairs, Reuben, for the first time since that dark night when she and her whole village had to flee behind the castle walls, that dark night when she had discovered his true identity, allowed himself to ponder what her feelings were. Before, he thought with a smirk, there had been no doubt. Her feelings had been quite evident from the way she hit him in the face and called him all the names her innocent little mind could think of.

Now, though…

She trusted him. But did she love him?

Had she ever loved him? She had never said so. But then, he had never asked.

Reuben snorted. Well, if she didn't, he was going to put himself to an awful lot of trouble for no good reason. He couldn't believe he had practically agreed to fight for her for—he shuddered at the very thought—for free! He hadn't fought for free in years! He had stolen and ravished and plundered and killed, and it had always been as it should be: purely for personal gain.

What he was about to do now felt so disgustingly honorable! It almost reminded him of the old days when he had been so stupid as to fight for foolish phantasms like glory, duty, or honor.

Plus, he would have to defend people. Peasants who couldn't fight for themselves! He had never even considered defending anyone or anything, let alone someone who couldn't help in a fight. Why carry dead weight, why waste food on commoners? In any of the sieges he had previously been in, he would have advised the Lady of the castle to chuck all of the peasants out of the stronghold, or, to save time, to simply cut their throats. However, he doubted such a suggestion would go over well with Ayla.

A different strategy would have to be devised to get them out of the situation they were in. And the first thing he needed to do was to assess that situation.

Reuben went down the stairs, then stepped out of the keep door into the morning. The sun was just rising over the wall and bathed him in her glorious light. He stretched and gazed around.

What a wonderful feeling to be free again. Really free. He had no guards on his tail, he had no mistrust to fear, and he could go out and kill whomever he liked. Provided, of course, it was a member of the enemy army. He would have to remember that annoying restriction.

At a brisk pace, he proceeded to the outer wall. As the first line of defense, it deserved to be the first object of his attention. There was a guard stationed at the bottom of the tower which granted entrance to the walkway. He put himself in front of the door as Reuben approached.

“Nobody comes through here. It is forbidden…to…go up…” His voice faded as his eyes widened in delayed recognition.

“Ah.” Reuben nodded. “I see you remember me from last night.”

“Yessir.” The guard's voice was hardly more than a whisper.

“And you are here to guard the wall against your enemies?”

“Yessir.”

“And—think very carefully before answering this question—would you like to include me in your definition of 'enemies'?”