by Robert Thier
“Well,” he sighed. “I wasn't going to talk about it, but since you ask…promise you won't tell anybody. It's a secret plan—my last resort.”
“I promise.”
“Well, if they don't simply vanish or turn into robins and fly away, I'm going to go have to go out there and kill every last one of them myself.”
Ayla couldn’t help it, she had to smile again. “What a brilliant plan, Sir Knight.”
“I know. I’m a genius, aren’t I?” He gave an exaggerated sigh again. “Of course, it's going to take some time, and I'll probably need to come back for fresh swords when I've hacked my own to pieces once or twice. But I think I should manage it in about three or four days. Then I'm going to ride to the Margrave's castle, kill everybody there, too, so you can be safe forever, and I'll bring you the Margrave's head on a spike. Would you like that?”
“I should very much like to be safe,” Ayla murmured into his shoulders. “But you can forget about the head on a spike. I've seen enough heads to last me a lifetime.”
“Oh?” He was grinning. She could hear it in his voice. “Am I to infer that the sight of my own nut is displeasing to you, Milady? Should I cover my head with a cloth from now on?”
Ayla couldn't help it. She giggled. It was unbelievable! She had just lived through what probably were the five worst minutes of her life, and he managed to make her giggle!
“I meant dead ones, silly!” she sniggered.
“Well, that's a relief.” She looked up and saw that she had been right. Reuben was indeed grinning. A full-blown I'm evil, know it, and enjoy it grin. It made her melt inside. “There are certain things you cannot do with your head covered. Particularly your mouth.”
At those words, Ayla felt her heart speed up. Damn him! He was so good at distracting her!
Abruptly, she realized how close she was to him. Very, very close in fact. He was clutching her in his arms, and she felt every hard line of his body pressed against hers in a way that probably wasn’t very decent.
It felt good all the same.
“What sort of things?” she asked, breathless.
Reuben's smile turned even more devilish, and he leaned closer until their faces were only inches apart. Ayla could feel the warmth of his breath on her cheeks.
“Well…” he began.
Suddenly, heavy footsteps approached down the corridor outside. Before Ayla could move or do anything, a guard pushed the door open and stepped inside.
“Milady, there you are! Sir Isenbard sent me to look for you! He…”
Then the guard's eyes caught up with his mouth. His gaze traveled from his mistress, to Reuben, and back to his mistress. They didn't have to travel far between the two.
“Um…err…um…”
“Got something to say, soldier?” Reuben asked, fixing his eyes on the man and not letting go of Ayla in spite of her furious attempts at freedom.
“Err…yes, Sir. That is…no, Sir. I'll, um…wait outside. Shall I, Milady?”
“I think that would be a good idea,” said Reuben before Ayla had even opened her mouth. The guard nodded hurriedly and fled from the room.
“Reuben!” Ayla hissed. Anger was boiling in her hotter than the Devil's tea pot.
“Yes?”
“Why didn't you let me say something? He thinks…thinks that we…”
“What?” Reuben asked, trying to look innocent. He didn't manage it very well.
“You know!”
“Just suppose for a moment that I am very stupid and enlighten me.”
She smacked him on the chest. “Let go of me, you lecher!”[15]
“Do you really want me to, Milady?” he asked, giving her a look that almost made her change her mind.
“Yes! The guard said Isenbard sent him to look for me. It must be something important.”
“Maybe he is just concerned for you.” The humor that had been there until just a moment ago drained from Reuben's face. “I certainly was.”
He was? He had been concerned for her? Ayla’s heart brimmed over with a joy so fierce it almost banished the horrors of the night from her mind. Her face softened.
“I know,” she whispered. “But even if he is only concerned for me, I should go. You see…” Quickly, before her courage could desert her, she leaned forward and brushed her lips against his cheek, once. “…I don't like the people I care about to be concerned or troubled. I like to make them happy. Whenever and wherever I can.”
Under the touch of her lips, she felt him stiffen, and, for a moment, she feared he would pull away. But then he crushed her against his chest tighter than ever and breathed into her ear, “A nice sentiment. But I hope very much you aren't thinking of making anyone else happy with your soft lips?”
“No,” she murmured, spellbound by the intensity of his words.
“That is very good to hear. Then I won't have to beat anyone senseless.”
She waited, her heart pounding. Was he going to tell her that he loved her again? Now would be the perfect moment. Like this, so close to the mesmerizing power of his eyes and his seducing devilish smile, she would have believed him instantly.
She longed to hear the words again, hear them from the lips of the true man: Reuben the robber knight, not Reuben the merchant, who had never really existed. She needed to hear them, soon, or she didn’t know whether she could go on any longer.
He opened his mouth. “Ayla…I…”
Racket
“Ayla, I think we had better go see what Sir Isenbard wants,” Reuben said.
All right. That was definitely not what she had been hoping for. It was so infuriatingly prosaic, cold, and…true. After all, she herself had advocated the same course of action not two minutes ago. Dang!
But that had been before she had dared to believe, for the first time in days, that he’d repeat his confession of love! No one could expect a young lady to have the same priorities while a man as mind-bogglingly beautiful as Reuben stared at her with those fiery gray eyes of his…
She shook herself.
War, she reminded herself. We’re at war. Think about chopped off heads, not about how soft Reuben’s lips felt on your skin.
Sometimes, life was really hard.
“All right.” Sighing, she slid out of his grasp, but took hold of his hand. He wasn't going to get away from her as easily as that!
“Stay with me?” she asked, peeking up at him through her eyelashes.
“Always,” he said in a tone as immovable as granite. It sounded like a promise. So why, why hadn't he told her that he loved her once again? Why hadn't he taken this opportunity to rebuild her broken beliefs?
*~*~**~*~*
Sir Reuben felt frustrated. No, to be honest, the word frustrated didn’t quite capture how he felt. Raging in hell, pounding on the iron walls of his dark soul, fed up to here with life and love—yes, that would describe it more accurately.
For the life of him, he couldn’t understand why she hadn't told him she loved him just now. Everything had been right: they were close, emotional, alone—well, maybe not quite alone once the guard had arrived, but still—pretty perfect conditions for a confession of love. He had almost sensed it, almost felt what she was feeling for him.
So why, by all nine circles of hell, hadn't she told him she loved him?
He didn't need to say it, of course. He had already told her once, and repetitions were so bothersome and completely unnecessary, weren’t they? She could hardly have forgotten his confession, after all. A girl forgetting his declaration of love? Preposterous!
She knew all right. It was her turn now. So why hadn't she said anything?
And then, all those little gestures—like not letting go of his hand, for instance. Why did she send him all these confusing little signals? It was just like the time when he had first confessed his love for her. It had been a very inspired and romantic confession. He had stared at her with that intense look that made women melt using all of his considerable charm.
A
nd what had she done?
She had just sat there and said one word. One teasing, little word:
Thanks!
That had been it. Then, she had run off. All right, there had been a battle imminent at the time, but still. The way she never committed, never told him her actual feelings made him wonder if perhaps she didn't love him, but simply encouraged his feelings to have an additional protector by her side.
He glanced down to his right, where she walked beside him, his strong hand clasped tightly in her smaller one.
Well, if that was her game, she was playing it infernally well.
Yet when he held her in his arms, looked into the depth of her sapphire eyes, he could almost sense the force of the feelings emanating from inside her. She had to feel something for him, didn't she?
These thoughts occupied Reuben so much that he and Ayla had already progressed some distance down the corridor before he noticed that she was limping.
“Ayla! What is the matter?” A possibility occurred to him. “Did someone hurt you? I'll…”
“No, no.” She hurriedly shook her head. “Nobody hurt me—well, apart from myself. I ran up the hill barefoot.”
He frowned. “That was silly.”
Ayla rolled her eyes at him. “Well, thank you very much for your moral support. I must admit, I was a bit too distracted at the time to care about bare feet. There were those rotting heads everywhere!”
Reuben just had to grin at her. He couldn't resist it. “And they took your shoes away?”
“No, of course not, you blockhead! I lost them.”
Evading her elbow in the ribs, he swiftly bent to examine her feet. When he grasped her ankles, she teetered precariously.
“Hey! Be careful!”
“Hmmm…” Slowly, Reuben ran a finger over the skin of Ayla's foot. There were a few small cuts on the soles of her feet, but apart from that, her skin was smooth and unblemished. “Doesn't look too bad.”
“Not in comparison to some of the cuts you've had, I'm sure. But I'm not in the habit of letting my body be pierced and battered on a regular basis.”
“True,” Reuben nodded. “Is it very painful?”
“Enough that it's difficult to walk. Are you finished with your examination?”
“Depends.” Carelessly, Reuben's fingers stroked the skin around her ankles. “Are you sure the only cuts are way down there?” His finger traveled up a bit. “You could have a few further up—on your calf, or your thigh, perhaps. Maybe I should check.”
“No, thank you!” Reuben looked up just in time to see the blush on Ayla's cheeks. She pulled her dress more tightly around herself. “I'm sure everything is fine.”
“That's hardly fair,” he pointed out, grinning up at her as lasciviously as he could manage—and that was plenty. “You already got to undress me once, remember? Why shouldn't I get the same chance?”
By now, Ayla's cheeks were a delightful cherry red. “That was different,” she muttered. “I…err…was tending to your wounds.”
“Well, so am I.”
“I am perfectly fine. See?” She took a step forward, stumbled, and only managed to stay upright by grabbing a doorframe. Reuben was beside her again in a second.
“Fine, hm, Milady?”
“Well…nearly, anyway.”
“Are you, now? Well,” Reuben sighed, “if you're not going to let me tend to your wounds, I think there remains only one properly chivalrous thing for me to do.”
She eyed him suspiciously. “Proper chivalry? From you?”
“Of course.” Before she could move so much as an inch, Reuben had bent again and swept Ayla's legs out from under her. With a startled yelp, she fell back into his expectant arms. He picked her up and held her to his chest. “I'll have to carry you.”
“Reuben!” She protested. “Let me down!”
Reuben sighed. “And there I was, hoping I would receive a few gentle caresses as thanks for my solicitude.”
She raised an adorable little fist. “I'll give you gentle caresses if you don't let me down!”
Let her down? Not hardly. Reuben was quite liking the feel of her soft body pressed against him, all warmth and gentle curves. He would have liked it a lot better if his armor hadn't gotten in her way, and her dress was kind of redundant, too, but still it felt very nice.
Ignoring her quite ineffectual and not very earnest attempts to struggle out of his grip, Reuben advanced to the next door and kicked it open with one foot. It slammed against the wall and made the guard who was waiting a few feet away jump.
Reuben shook his head in wonder. The guards here really were loyal to Ayla. In the castles he had stayed in during the earlier years of his life, that door would have caught a guard right in the head as he tried to listen at the door.
This one was just looking demurely at the ground, awaiting orders.
“You there!” Reuben shouted. The guard looked up and his eyes widened as he saw his mistress in the arms of the knight.
“Your mistress has been a bit too active recently and misplaced some of her clothing,” Reuben said. “Go to her chambers and fetch her a new pair of shoes.”
“Very well, Sir.” The guard dared to examine his mistress a bit closer, then quickly looked away. “Err…will she need anything else, Sir?”
“No,” Reuben replied with a grin. “You interrupted us, so I didn't get any farther than that, unfortunately.”
From the corner of his eye, he saw Ayla's jaw drop.
“All right, Sir. I'll be back immediately, Sir!”
The guard disappeared down the corridor. Apparently he couldn't get away fast enough. Reuben turned his eyes away from him to Ayla, who was still gaping up at him, open-mouthed.
“What?” Reuben asked, raising an eyebrow.
“You…he…you practically told him we…”
“I told him you needed new shoes,” Reuben said, giving her his best lascivious smile. “That is all.”
“Reuben, you could just say to somebody that you’d like a cup of water and make it sound like one of the seven deadly sins!”
He couldn’t help laughing at that. The laughter rocked his body and jostled the girl in his arms in quite an interesting way.
Ayla, apparently fearing he would let her fall, quickly put her arms around his neck. It was an absurd notion. He'd never let anything happen to her. But still he didn't say anything. The soft touch of her hands on the back of his neck was too intoxicating.
“Why did you say that to the guard?” she admonished. “What were you thinking?”
He bent a little closer. “Well, right now, I'm thinking you had better close that mouth or I'll do it for you, with my lips.”
She closed her mouth immediately. Ah, well. Another day, perhaps.
*~*~**~*~*
Reuben began to stride down the corridor, still holding her tightly in his arms.
“Aren't you going to wait?” she demanded.
“No.”
“But you sent the guard away to fetch a pair of shoes for me.”
“Yes. And?”
“And that means you should wait for him. Otherwise he'll have to run after us.”
“Which means I get to hold you in my arms a little longer,” Reuben pointed out to her with a salacious grin. “An excellent reason for leaving.”
Ayla's heart rate picked up. He likes to hold me in his arms?
Once more, she abruptly became aware of how close she was to him, closer even than before, in his room. Their faces were barely inches apart, her hands were around his neck. She could feel the ends of his long, tangled black hair tickling her fingertips.
It was in moments like these that something stirred inside her, a feeling she had never really experienced before. Not love—she loved Reuben, yes, insanely. But there was something else. There was a part of her that wanted to do things with him and to him that had never occurred to her before.
She blushed even to think of those things! And then, when he grinned at her again, she b
lushed some more, because she knew he could see her blush and must know what she was thinking about.
“Lady Ayla! Lady Ayla!”
The guard came running up behind them, holding a pair of Ayla's shoes in his right hand. Ayla heard Reuben mutter something. She didn’t catch the words, but the fact that it wasn't a compliment for the guard was pretty much evident from his tone.
“Here are your shoes, Lady Ayla.”
“Let me,” Reuben said, holding out his hand for the shoes. His tone made it clear that this was not a request. The guard hurriedly handed the shoes to him and took a step back. “I, err…had better go and tell Sir Isenbard that you are coming. Yes, I'd better do that.”
“Yes, I think too that it’s time for you to piss off,” Reuben agreed, absent-mindedly, moving the first shoe towards Ayla's left foot without even bothering to set her down. She pulled her foot back. What did he think? That she was so helpless she couldn't even put a shoe on?
“I can do that perfectly well on my own, thank you very much,” she said haughtily.
“Yes, you could. If I'd let you. Now, hold still.”
Knowing it was pointless to argue, Ayla remained motionless while he pulled the shoes over her feet. Reuben lingered with his fingers on the skin around her ankles a bit longer than was strictly necessary, but she didn't protest. The guard was gone after all, and, well, maybe this wasn't quite as terribly immoral as she had thought. It certainly felt good.
“There you are, Milady.” Carefully, Reuben set her down on the ground. He didn't let go of her arm as she stood, but steadied and supported her as she tested her feet. “And?” he asked, his voice very different from the devilish lasciviousness she was used to. It was soft and…sincere? Was something wrong with her ears? “How are you?”
“Why, you are becoming quite the gentleman, Sir Knight,” she teased.
“You think so, do you?” Swiftly, his hand moved from her arm to…another part of her. A part which was located right below her back, which no gentleman would ever touch on a lady. “I could also hold you here, I think. It's just as good for supporting you, and much more fun.”
“Reuben!”
“Well, am I a gentleman?”
