The Robber Knight's Love (The Robber Knight Saga #2)(69)



The yammering stopped abruptly. Everyone turned to stare at their liege lady dumbfounded, like they had not expected to see her in the world of life again. One middle-aged woman raised a shivering hand, pointing out over the outer wall, towards the origin of the strange, unearthly wailing that was still wafting over the castle.

“It is the dead, Milady!” Her twitching hand wandered to the severed heads of the Luntberg soldiers all around the courtyard. “The spirits of the dead are angry with us! They have come to take us all to Hell!”

“I might very well take you to Hell myself if you don't get these children out of here immediately,” Ayla hissed, thrusting the two youngsters into the woman's arms. “And, while you are at it, rid yourself of your foolish superstitions. The souls of the dead are either in Heaven, Hell or purgatory, and they will stay there and not bother us. Now go!”

Apparently, Ayla was more intimidating than the spirits of the dead, since the woman hurriedly gathered up the children and made her way through the gate into the inner castle. Reuben watched with wonder as Ayla proceeded towards one of the guards, who had just ceased running around like a headless chicken and now stood straight, aiming to look as professional as possible as his mistress was bearing down on him.

“You there!”

“Yes, Milady?”

“Gather all the people you can find around here—not just guards, all able-bodied men and women. Have them tie cloths over their mouths and noses and remove the heads of your fallen comrades from the courtyard and the walls. Do not touch them with your hands, they may already be befallen by some evil infestation. Use tools to carry them, but treat them respectfully. Bring them to some secluded spot in the castle, well away from any food, water, or living quarters, and have it guarded at all times so no one comes too close.”

“Yes, Milady.” The guard bowed more deeply than he probably ever had before and then hesitantly asked, “What are we to do with them in the end?”

Ayla hesitated for a moment, too. Reuben wondered if now she was going to collapse, when she said, “I will come and take care of the matter myself. For now, just collect and guard them.”

Another swift, relieved bow followed immediately. “As you command, Milady!” He hurried off, and Ayla remained alone in the middle of a widening circle of people, who were calming down, finding things to do, or simply going away. Some bowed into her direction now and again, and all looked awed.

Reuben judged the moment right and stepped up to stand beside Ayla.

“And does Milady have a command for me, too?” he asked, only half in jest.

“Yes,” Ayla whispered. “Hold me.”

Reuben's fingers found hers just as a guard came out of a tower down at the outer wall. Spotting them, he started towards them.

“Milady,” he called as he approached. “Milady, you're wanted on the wall!”

“Shall we go?” Reuben asked and was surprised to hear gentleness in his own voice. What the hell was happening to him?

“Yes.” Ayla nodded, and hand in hand, they made their way towards the wall and the unearthly sounds that were drifting over the castle from somewhere out there in the darkness.

~~*~~*

Isenbard awaited them atop the wall. His worried face brightened a little as he saw Ayla. Guilt swept over her. She felt more than a little stupid now for acting so irrationally when the first of the heads had struck. She had probably caused him no end of worry.

“Milady.” Isenbard examined her with sharp eyes. “Have you recovered?”

“My feet are a little sore, but apart from that, I'm fine,” she answered with a weak smile.

“Are you, now?” Isenbard's eyes moved away from her face for a moment, landing on her and Reuben's entwined hands. Ayla felt blood rise to her cheek but didn't let go of Reuben's hand. She needed him too much right now.

“All right then,” grumbled Isenbard. “Come along. I've got to show you something.”

They followed him, stepping up closer to the crenels. As soon as they did, the eerie howling grew louder in Ayla’s ears. Metallic clanks and strange noises were mixed in with the ghostly wail.

“What's that?” Ayla asked, not entirely managing to keep her voice steady.

“That's what I have to show you.” Isenbard threw a look at Reuben. “Though I figure your friend here already knows.”

Surprised, Ayla looked up at Reuben, just in time to see him nod non-committaly.

“You know?”

“Probably.” He shrugged. “But let's have a look first. I want to be sure.”

Ayla stepped to one of the slits between two crenels and looked down into the valley. Far, far beneath her, down on the ground, she saw one of the strangest sights that had ever met her eyes.

The enemy camp appeared to have vanished. Where, previously, dozens of campfires had illuminated the night, there now only was a large plain of blackness. Closer to the castle, halfway up the hill, however, there was something which made the disappearance of the entire enemy army seem rather insignificant:

A train of ghostly, white figures was marching, no, rather floating around the hill. Their entire forms were covered in loose, pale garments that fluttered in the cold night wind and gleamed in the light of the torches they all were carrying. None of them bore a single weapon, nor anything else apart from the torches.

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