The Robber Knight's Love (The Robber Knight Saga #2)(84)

Which was not true, of course, Reuben chided himself.

Ayla reached out to the tree beneath which the grave had been dug. From between the leaves, she picked one of the largest, most beautiful apple-blossoms.

“Rest in peace, my friend,” she whispered and let it fall into the grave. It drifted downwards, slowly rotating as it sank through the air, and finally came to rest on Isenbard's chest, just above his folded hands.

“Father?” With a shaky little nod, Ayla gave a nod to the priest. “You may do your duty.”

The priest stepped forward, bent down, and picked up a handful of earth from the ground. Stretching his hand over the grave, he let it fall. Then Ayla stepped forward to do the same, and as she did, the priest intoned, “In the sweat of thy face shalt thou eat bread, till thou return unto the ground; for out of it wast thou taken…”

Captain Linhart took Ayla's place and threw a handful of dirt into the grave.

“… For dust thou art, and unto dust shalt thou return…”

The Captain stepped back and hesitated. Then, to Reuben's utter amazement, he gestured for him to step forward.

Raising a questioning eyebrow, Reuben looked at Ayla. She nodded. That decided it for Reuben.

He would not have said it was his place to do so, but he stepped towards the grave, bent down to retrieve a handful of earth, and let it fall into the gloom of the open grave. As the dirt hit the body, it had a sense of finality. Reuben realized that it had been his place to do this, for he was taking up the place of the man they buried here: the place of protector.

“…in sure and certain hope of the Resurrection to eternal life, through our Lord Jesus Christ; who shall change our vile body, that it may be like unto his glorious body, according to the mighty working, whereby he is able to subdue all things to himself. Amen.”

“Amen,” repeated the congregation.

There was a moment of utter silence. Then two guards armed with shovels stepped forward. It was time.

As the two passed between Ayla and the villagers, blocking the former from the latter's view, Reuben saw her suddenly stumble and almost fall.

Satan’s hairy ass!

He abruptly realized that she had been running on borrowed strength this whole time. Her show of determination in front of the villagers was just that—a show. She could only keep it up as long as she had to, as long as she knew the villagers could see her. Even so, she would not be able to keep it up for long.

“Milady?” Taking her hand, he turned her towards him. “Perhaps I might prevail upon you to come to the keep with me? There are some urgent matters of defense I must discuss with you.”

She threw him a grateful look, which cut Reuben to the bone. She thought he was just making an excuse for her, helping her find some peace, when what he said had actually been true, and he was about to destroy the last bit of peace she had.

“Of course,” she mumbled. “Let's go.”

A corridor through the crowd opened up in front of them. People respectfully bowed their heads to Ayla as she passed, and Reuben could feel that it was as much a sign of respect as an acknowledgment of her grief. Behind them, the soft 'thud, thud' of earth slowly covering up the remains of Sir Isenbard sounded out in an irregular rhythm.

They walked quietly for a bit. Not that Reuben didn't have much to say, oh no. He had quite a lot to say. It was just that he didn't want to.

The night around them was strangely peaceful, in spite of the terrible events that had shaken the castle of late, and he did not want to break that spell. He did not want to break Ayla, either. Walking beside him in her white linen gown, she looked as ephemeral and breakable as one of the beautiful apple blossoms in her orchard.

Suddenly, as if in answer to his thoughts, she stumbled and fell against him.

“Ayla!” His arms went around her instinctively. Holding her close, he felt her soft body pressed against his, her heartbeat feeling wonderfully alive, even through his mail shirt. He also felt the shivers that were racking her body.

“Ayla, what's the matter?”

What a stupid question! Her oldest friend has just been put six feet under with an ax wound in the neck!

Desperately Reuben tried to remember any courtly lessons from his early days as a knight about cheering up tearful ladies. From what he could remember, most of the methods involved winning a tournament for the lady in question or sending her flowers. He didn't think either method would work in this case.

So he just repeated his stupid question. “What's the matter?”

“Nothing, nothing.” She waved away his concerns. “It all got a bit too much for me, I guess. I'll be right as rain again in the morning.”

No, you won't. Because, before the morning, I must tell you what I discovered.

But he didn’t say that. Instead, he murmured, “Yes, of course. Let's go back to the keep, though, all right? After two attacks on the castle, I'm taking no chances. I want you in the safest place possible.”

She looked up at him then, her sapphire eyes wide open, questioning. “You want me safe?”

He nodded, feeling his heart swell painfully. Satan’s hairy ass! Why did love have to be so damn painful? It was supposed to be a good thing, wasn’t it?

“Always,” he whispered.

“I want you safe, too,” she whispered back, reaching up to touch his cheek, once, briefly. It was the first time she had touched him so deliberately in a long time, and it made Reuben's heart swell even more. The pain drained away to be replaced by a flood of heat. This! This was what love was supposed to feel like! “I just wish,” she continued, still looking up at him, “that this whole feud was over and everybody were safe and you and I could…”