The Robber Knight's Love (The Robber Knight Saga #2)(76)

The mercenaries tried to encircle him, to grab him, to trip him. Nothing worked. He was an unstoppable force of nature.

Two more steps, and he was at the first ladder. His sword cut through the ropes holding it to the wall and the man who was busy attaching them in a single blow. With his left arm, almost casually, the red knight thrust the ladder away from the wall. There was a moment of terrible, silent movement. Ayla could feel rather than see the ladder fall beyond the wall, and then a crunch announced the death of a dozen men crushed beneath hard wood and the weight of their own bodies.

Reuben moved in quick succession from one ladder to another, not seeming to care much whether he cut through rope or wood or human flesh. There was something strangely fascinating about the way he moved, and Ayla could not look away, though she sometimes wished she could. For a moment, she thought that this was what it must have been like for the masses in the arenas of the old heathen Romans to watch wild animals tear prisoners apart. The fascination of inevitable death.

But when she saw Reuben throw three men from the wall with a single blow, she corrected that view. The prisoners in the arena had probably had a better chance.

“Lady Ayla!”

Startled, she looked over her shoulder.

Guards were running from the barracks, coming towards her, Captain Linhart in the lead. Without a word, Ayla pointed up to the wall where Reuben was fighting. The Captain's eyes widened for a moment.

“God’s breath! He—“

Then he brought himself back under control, and drew his sword. “Your orders, Milady?”

“Go.”

She didn't need to say anything else. He motioned to his men, and they disappeared into the tower and up the stairs.

Reuben didn't even seem to notice their arrival. He seemed intent on personally slicing every mercenary on the wall into tiny little pieces and, from what Ayla could see, was making a good job of it.

The enemies didn't seem to notice Linhart and his men either. They were fully busy trying not to get killed by Reuben. When that didn’t work out, they were busy being killed by him anyway. And then they were busy being dead.

Finally, what remained of the force on the wall turned and fled, running toward the only remaining ladder leaning against the castle wall. Reuben came after them—not like an avenging angel, no, he was far too terrible for that—rather like an avenging demon who had the full fury of hell at his command.

He reached the ladder just as the last man had swung himself over the wall and started to climb down. Reuben beheaded him without hesitation. There were screams and curses from his comrades below as the head of the mercenary bumped down the ladder. Reuben didn't pay any attention. He made short work of the ropes attaching the ladder to the castle wall and then thrust it back with a mighty shove.

The ladder sailed into the darkness of the night. There was a last chorus of screams, a thud—and then silence.

Ayla stood there, gazing up at the wall for a few moments, still caught in a paralysis of fear. She couldn't believe it was over. That had been it?

The enemy had been repelled, and even comparatively easily. All of Linhart's soldiers seemed still to be standing. But then why did this scene feel so wrong? Why, at the sight of the group standing up there on the wall, did dread flood her heart?

And suddenly she knew why.

Reuben was standing.

Linhart was, too.

And so were his men.

But Isenbard was not.

Then, Reuben lowered his head, and as he looked down at the walkway, looking at something Ayla couldn’t see, a grim expression spread over his face, replacing the manic grin that had burned there during battle.

No. No, no, no. This could not be.

Ayla's feet started moving without her consciously realizing it. She was into the tower and halfway up the stairs before she even thought, He'll be all right. Even if he is hurt, he'll be all right. I'm a healer, right? I can heal him. He'll be all right.

Her footsteps quickened. And quickened some more. By the time she had reached the top of the stairs, she had broken into a run. The figures of Linhart’s soldiers stood around her, hazy and indistinct. Something was obscuring her vision. Something wet. Tears?

But why would she cry? Isenbard would be all right. He had to be. He would step out from behind one of the soldiers where he had been hiding and smile at her.

Ayla looked from one of the soldiers to the next. None of them looked like they were hiding Isenbard behind their backs. But, for some reason, they all looked solemn.

Then, two of them stepped aside, and she saw him.





Silent Oath

Isenbard was lying on the stone walkway, his bevor[17] ripped from his throat, a long and bloody gash reaching from his chest to his carotid artery, where the blood was streaming out in a red river. His helmet was also gone, torn off and smashed to pieces by some enemy's sword.

“Captain Linhart?”

Someone was speaking. It sounded like Reuben, but the words didn't make any sense to Ayla. Nothing made sense anymore. Isenbard couldn't be wounded…and he most certainly couldn't look as if he were going to die.

“Captain Linhart! Are you listening to me? Go and check along the wall to the west. There might be more enemies trying to get over the wall. I'll check to the east.”

“Who do you think you are, trying to give me orders?”

There was the metallic ring of a sword.