The Robber Knight's Love (The Robber Knight Saga #2)(97)
Eyes widened, and gasps could be heard from all sides. Ayla saw Reuben smile behind his visor. He was enjoying this immensely, the arrogant son of a… And she would have to keep boosting him, no matter how much he smirked!
“Grievously wounded, he lay unconscious in the forest, where I found him and brought him back here to Luntberg castle. Over the last few weeks, he concealed his identity from us, not knowing whether we were friend or foe and fearing for his life. But, a short while ago, he revealed himself to me and offered his aid. And since then, he has more than proven his worth.”
Holding up a hand, she began to count.
“He broke into the enemy camp in the middle of the night, killing dozens of enemy guards and stealing weapons and horses. He rescued me from the enemy when they intruded into the castle to abduct me. He has even, as he has told me,” she paused for a look at Reuben, who managed to look somewhat guilty and disgustingly cocky at the same time, “overcome Sir Isenbard himself in a duel.”
Several people in the audience nodded at that and began to whisper to others. Relief swept through Ayla. Thank the Lord there had been eyewitnesses to that contest!
“He is a paragon among knights,” she declared. “A warrior the likes of which has not been seen since the days of Roland[18] or Lancelot[19]. Not only that, but he has commanded entire armies in battle. He is trapped in this castle just as much as we are. He has already proven his loyalty to our cause beyond all doubt. For all those reasons and more besides, I have decided to offer him a place among my vassals and to make him the commander of all my armed forces.”
The tension over the courtyard was so dense, you could almost feel it with your fingertips. Ayla knew this was what the people had been waiting for.
“Sir Reuben,” she called, her voice ringing out clearly over the courtyard, “do you wish to become a vassal of me, Lady Ayla von Luntberg, daughter of Thomas, Count von Luntberg?”
She held her hands out to him. He, following the ancient ceremony, fell to his knees, and took them in his own. It felt so good to be holding his hands. It had been an eternity since Ayla had held his hands, and she felt as though she would never want to let go again.
“I do.” Reuben's voice was deep and strong. If hers had been heard all over the courtyard, his could probably still be heard in the enemy camp.
“Then do you swear to cherish and protect me, your lady, as befits a vassal?” she asked.
“I do.”
“Do you swear to, err…love me more than your own life, as befits a vassal?”
Ayla could hardly look at Reuben as she spoke the age-old words. Still, out of the corner of her eye, she saw the smoldering, devilish look he gave her from below, a look that made her think that maybe for him, just maybe, there was nothing platonic about this part of the oath. He gently pressed her hands. Oh, dear Lord…
“I do,” he said, and Ayla thought she might faint from his voice alone.
Dear Lord, could it be…?
“Do you swear,” she continued a little unsteadily, feeling Burchard's gaze drilling into the back of her head, “to love what I love, and hate what I hate?”
“I do.”
“Do you swear that your sword arm will always be at my disposal?”
Reuben winked. “That, and all the rest of me.”
Ayla turned puce. That was definitely not the conventional answer for the question, but she would have to be lying if she said she didn't like to hear it very much. Breathless, she continued, “Then I accept you as my vassal. From this day forth, I am your liege lord, and I bestow unto you, as is my right as overlord in the absence of other heirs, the lands and titles of Sir Isenbard von Riffgarten, my loyal vassal who has passed away.”
Letting go of his hands, Ayla picked up a symbolic bowl of earth with a little twig from an apple-tree planted in the middle and handed it to Reuben, who took it with great care.
“I am entrusting my land and my people to you, Sir Reuben,” she said, fixing him with her eyes, her heart beating fast. “Earth and life both are under your care, now. I pray that you shall prove yourself worthy of my trust.”
Reuben took the bowl reverently and bowed his head. When he looked up again, there was that devilish look in his gray eyes again that made Ayla’s bones feel weak.
“I will prove myself worthy, Milady. That I swear by the honor I do not have.”
A few people in the crowd threw confused glances at each other. Surely they had heard incorrectly?
Ayla stepped on Reuben's foot.
“Shut up,” she hissed so low she hoped nobody else could hear. “This is supposed to go smoothly! None of your nonsense here, understood?”
“How could I disobey you?” he whispered back. “I'm sworn to obey you, now. I have to do everything you tell me.”
Ayla's throat went dry. The way he said that…
“So?” He grinned the most lascivious of lascivious grins. “What should I do for you?”
“Rise, Sir Reuben,” she commanded.
He stood up. His smoldering gaze didn't leave her face. “Erect enough for you?” he asked in a very low voice when he was completely upright.
Ayla frowned. “Err…yes?”
He shook his head, smirking. “You don't even get my jokes. We'll have to work on that.”
From the way Burchard had appeared beside her with a face as red as bloody beef and a bristling mustache, Ayla gathered that he, at least, had gotten Reuben's joke.