The Robber Knight's Love (The Robber Knight Saga #2)(98)

“That concludes the ceremony,” she said hurriedly, stepping in between Reuben and Burchard. “My people, are you pleased with my choice?”

There was a moment of silence - then an explosion of sound hit. Innumerable shouts of “Yay,” “Hooray,” and “Long live Lady Ayla!' went up in the crowd. Almost all of the gathered people were staring at Reuben's massive figure, at the meat cleaver of a sword at his hip, with a sort of desperate hope. Ayla felt almost as though she could read their minds, because she had been thinking similar thought often enough lately: “If he cannot save us, nobody can.”

~~*~~*

“…and Falkenstein's men have not moved for an attack so far. It seems they have reverted to their original intention of starving us,” the scout ended his report. Ayla slumped back in her chair.

“Which will work just fine if no miracle comes along and saves us,” she muttered. “In a few weeks, we’ll be dead.”

The morning's elation at having Reuben as the official commander of her forces had long passed. What could he do? True, from what he had hinted here and there, he had enormous experience in battle. But they were trapped. How could it make a difference?

“What did you say, Milady?” the scout asked.

“Hm? Oh, nothing, nothing.” She waved the question away. “You have done your work very well. I'm proud of you. Go and get some rest.”

The young man beamed and hurried off, not forgetting to bow to her twice.

As he went out, Reuben came in. Hurriedly, the scout bowed five more times and ran for the hills.

“You seem to be having quite an effect on my servants,” Ayla remarked, her mouth twitching.

Reuben grinned that devil’s grin that made her heart melt and took one of her hands in his.

“Can you blame them?” he asked.

“No,” she answered, breathlessly.

They stared into each other’s eyes for a few seconds, searching. Ayla, for her part, found all she was looking for, and more. There was feeling there, in the thunderous depth of gray. Feeling for her, she was almost sure. Almost.

Oh, why had he not told her again? If he told her again that he loved her, now that she knew he meant it, she would fall into his arms and her world would be perfect, even if she knew they were all going to die tomorrow.

Well, maybe not quite perfect, but considerably better, at least.

Reuben cocked his head. “So…you approve of your new commander?”

She nodded silently, not being able to find the words to answer him.

“Then why do you want to deal with that bastard of a traitor yourself?” he asked. “Why won't you leave the task to me?”

Ayla tensed. It was time.

“He is here?”

“Yes, he has been brought up into the keep, just as you requested.”

“Did anybody see him?”

“I said 'just as you requested'. You requested that nobody would see him. So nobody saw him. I am very thorough, Milady.”

“I believe that.”

“Then why do you want to see him yourself? Why won't you let me deal with him?” Reuben’s eyes narrowed.

“Reuben…” Ayla paused, trying to phrase this as diplomatically as possible. “If I let you ‘deal with him,’ as you put it, what would you do?”

“The first thing on my list,” he answered without hesitation, “would be beating him into a bloody pulp.”

“I see,” Ayla said, nodding to herself. She had expected nothing less. “And that is exactly why I can't let you deal with him.”

Reuben sighed. “You have far too gentle a heart for this world. Has anybody ever told you that?”

“No. But it is very sweet of you.”

“It was supposed to be an insult!” he growled.

Quickly, before she could stop herself, Ayla stood up on her tiptoes and pressed a light kiss on Reuben's cheek. He stood there, stunned, staring at her without saying a word.

“I thought it was a nice compliment. Now bring him in already,” Ayla said, blushing. “Your liege lady has other things to do today.”

For a moment, Reuben didn’t move. He just stood there, devouring her with his eyes. Then he unfroze, giving a slight bow.

“Yes, Milady.”

Turning, he marched out of the room.

Ayla settled down in her father's chair again and waited. Her good mood evaporated as soon as Reuben was out of sight, and the sweet song of love in her heart was replaced by a far more frightening melody.

She knew what was to come. Justice.

And she also knew who would have to dispense it. The liege lady.

A few more tense moments of waiting passed. Finally, the doors to the hall were thrown open, and two guards entered. Between them, limp and helpless in his chains, hung the figure of Hans, the traitor.





Justice

Hans had deteriorated considerably during his night in the dungeon. He was dirty, his eyes had a haunted look about them, and the chains, although Ayla had taken care to have them freed of rust, had left red welts on his wrists and ankles.

Without much care, the two guards dragged him before Lady Ayla and forced him down to the floor. Ayla had to restrain herself from jumping up from her seat and helping the man to his feet. Seeing anyone cowering in front of her on the floor like that, like some sort of slave…