The Robber Knight's Love (The Robber Knight Saga #2)(60)

“What about burning missiles?” asked Ayla.

Reuben raised an eyebrow in what was an insultingly surprised manner. “You actually have a brain in that pretty head of yours!”

There were a lot of things Ayla might have wanted to give as a reply to this—like “How dare you!” or “A better one than yours, Sir Knight!”—but all she could think to say was, “You think my head is pretty?”

Color rose in her cheeks. Isenbard and all the guards seemed suddenly very interested in examining the stones of the castle walls.

Reuben leaned down to her and whispered in her ear, “Very. But not as pretty as some other parts of you, I'm sure.”

“Reuben!” She hissed, her cheeks turning an even darker shade of red. “You can't say such things!”

“Of course I can. I just did.”

“What I meant is you shouldn't say such things!”

“Well, that's something totally different.” His eyes burned with gray fire as they gazed into hers. “I love doing things I’m not supposed to do. It's so much fun.”

“At least don't say them while we're with company!”

“I can't wait to get you alone, then.”

By now, Ayla was feeling really hot, and it wasn't just her face anymore, either. She tried to shake it off and wrench her gaze away from his fiery gray gaze to the siege weapon down in the valley. That wasn't easy, though, while a chorus of nightingales were fluttering in her chest, singing the beautiful song of “He may love me! He may actually love me!”

“Err…we should…we should return to the matter at hand,” she said. “Yes. The siege. We should return to the siege.”

“As Milady commands,” said Reuben, bowing his head. “My sword is always sharp and at your command.”

“Err…good. Well, what do you think?” she asked, fumbling with her dress since she didn't really know what else to do with her hands. “Could they be planning to throw flaming projectiles at us?”

Reuben shook his head. “What would be the use? I admit, flaming projectiles can often do harm where other kinds of missiles fail. But in this case? No. Most everything in the outer defensive circle is built out of solid stone. They couldn't hope to set fire to anything. And pelting us with fire just so they can disrupt our dull lives? Unlikely.”

“So,” Ayla put her concluding question, “is this siege weapon a threat to us?”

“It cannot harm the walls of the castle,” answered Reuben. His tone was hesitant. Curt. Ayla knew how to listen for things that were not said. It was a skill she had picked up from conversations with Isenbard.

“That is no straight answer to my question,” she accused. “Can it harm us?”

Reuben shook his head but frowned as he did so. “I cannot see how. They might be able to throw lighter projectiles over the walls, but how could they harm us? We could simply evacuate everybody except the soldiers into the inner ring of walls and station the men-at-arms on the walls so they would be protected by the crenels. It would be of no use to the enemy to bombard us like that. As I said, any projectiles they can throw at us with this kind of siege weapons are too small to harm us.”

“Maybe they just don't know that, and that's why they're going to try it,” a guard suggested hesitantly.

“No.” Isenbard shook his head. “I can't believe a commander of a mercenary army is that stupid. He wouldn't have lived long enough to become commander if he were.”

“Agreed,” Reuben nodded.

“So…what does it mean?” Ayla asked. She wasn’t trying to sound scared, but her eyes pleaded with Reuben for some reassurance.

Maybe he wasn’t looking at her eyes closely enough to notice, though.

“They have something planned,” he told her. “We'll just have to wait and see what it is.”

~~*~~*

Sir Luca waited beside the catapult, his fists on his hips, a smile on his lips that did not show the least sign of humor. It was a dark smile. Conrad approached him cautiously. His master was in a strange mood these days, and one never quite knew how he would react or to what lengths he would go.

Conrad had already realized this before tonight, but he was being even more careful now. More careful after what they had just done, and what he knew they were going to do…

A shiver ran down his back. Not something very common for a man who had killed more times than he could remember.

“Sir?” He stopped beside Sir Luca and bowed.

“Is it done?” the commander asked.

“Aye, it is done.”

“And did they see you?”

“No, they didn't see or attack us. Nobody is hurt.”

“I am not interested in whether anyone is hurt. I am interested in whether those maggots in the castle know what we are going to do. I want this to be…a surprise.”

“They will not know what is coming, Sir. I promise you that.”

“Good.”

Conrad looked behind him, at the wagon which approached the siege weapon. He had to lie to the driver about its load, because three of his colleagues had, one after the other, refused to drive the wagon after being told what was in there. Even though the army's drivers had seen and committed their share of bloodshed, they would not cross some boundaries.