The Robber Knight's Love (The Robber Knight Saga #2)(71)

It took a while, but finally Ayla managed to dissuade the little girl, although she didn't go without considerable protest.

After that, Ayla called together a detachment of guards to bury the heads in a secluded corner of the outer courtyard. But that didn't help. The muttering among the villagers continued.

If only I could do something! I want to burn those goddamn soldiers alive! I want to tear out their guts and feed them to the dogs!

But he couldn’t. The soldiers dressed up as spirits were staying safely out of bow range, and to open the gates just to try and send out a party of soldiers to attack them was much too risky. That might be exactly what the enemy was hoping for.

So for now, we’re stuck with the whole castle thinking that the spirits of the dead are hounding us!

Not that the villagers ever voiced their fear of the supernatural when Reuben was around. Oh no! As soon as either he or Lady Ayla appeared, the villagers fell into silence immediately and looked as though nothing in the world could bother them.

However, Reuben suspected that this same reaction was triggered by entirely different motivations. In his case, they said nothing because they were afraid of his reaction—in Ayla's case, because her presence probably genuinely assuaged their fears.

There was fear in the castle, undoubtedly. But Ayla's presence, her talking to and being with the people, kept it from turning into outright panic. So far, the enemy's plan seemed to have failed.

An assumption that could not have been more wrong. For besides frightening the people of Luntberg, there was a second part to Sir Luca's devious plan.

It became apparent when, at midnight, one shift of guards was replaced by another, and the men who had been standing watch up until then wanted to go to sleep. The minute the watch changed, the wailing and clanking outside the castle intensified tenfold. At first, none of the soldiers dared approach Lady Ayla about this. It was just noise, after all. But finally, after three sleepless hours, one of them came to her chambers to tell her that they could not find rest because the voices of the ghosts were keeping him and his comrades awake.

“I should have foreseen this!” Angrily, Reuben smashed his fist down onto the table in his old sickroom, where Ayla, Isenbard, and he had gathered in an impromptu nightly meeting to discuss the situation. “I should have known from the start! Luca does not only intend to frighten our men, he intends to wear them out! To sap every last bit of strength from them! I am a fool!”

“No, Reuben, no.” Tiredly, Ayla laid a hand on his shoulder, and immediately Reuben, who had just been about to strike the table again, felt his rage drain away. “You couldn't have foreseen this. Nobody could. I mean…it is such a strange thing to do. What do they hope to achieve by it?”

Reuben snorted. Wasn't it obvious? Well, maybe not for someone who hadn't spent his entire life on hundreds of battlefields between Cordoba and Jerusalem. He swallowed, trying to calm himself. No, she wouldn't have any reason to know this.

“What they hope to achieve? Simple,” he said. “As I said before, they want to tire your men, bring them to the brink of collapse.”

“But what…what would be the benefit of that?” Ayla yawned. “Surely they’re keeping their own men awake, too? Nobody could sleep with this racket going on.” She blinked repeatedly. For a moment, Reuben wondered why her sapphire eyes looked even more beautiful now that she had difficulties keeping them open.

Maybe it is because it might not be too long before they close forever.

Clenching his teeth, he banished that thought firmly from his mind. He would not let the enemy’s mind tricks get to him! He would survive this, and he’d make sure that Ayla would, too! Tentatively, he snaked an arm around her waist, hoping that Isenbard wouldn't notice. It was only to support her, after all. Well, mostly anyway.

“That's exactly the problem,” he said as gently as possible. “The enemy will be able to sleep, racket or no racket. The main host will have stuffed their ears with beeswax, and won't hear a thing. Every few hours, they will wake a few dozen men to continue their parade around the castle, and thus will be able to keep the whole thing up indefinitely. I've seen it done before.”

“Well…we'll just do the same,” Ayla mumbled sleepily, snuggling closer to his chest. She didn't seem to be quite awake anymore—certainly not awake enough to remember that Isenbard was in the room with them. Reuben was still a little more alert and very conscious of the old knight's disapproving expression. He tried to step away from Ayla, which caused her to stumble and fall right against his chest. Reuben's arms came up to catch her.

“Hmm…” she mumbled, hugging him and rubbing her face against his chest. That was how he knew she was definitely asleep. Awake, she’d rather have cut off her foot than do something like this in front of her Uncle Ironbeard.

Nervously, Reuben glanced at Isenbard. From what he remembered of his days as a courtly knight, he knew that clutching a sleeping lady against your chest wasn’t exactly considered very decent. Not that he would have minded, under normal circumstances, but having the old man direct his searching gaze at the two of them made him nervous. Enormously nervous.

“Some help?” he asked as he tried to direct the semi-limp figure of Ayla to a chair.

Isenbard's thin lips twitched. “You seem to be doing fine on your own.”