The Robber Knight's Love

58. Aftermath

Ayla started running. Grinning triumphantly, Reuben opened his arms—and she rushed right past him. For a moment, Reuben stood there, taken aback. What could possibly be more interesting for any, indeed for any female on this earth, than his magnificent self? Satan’s hairy ass!

All of a sudden, he heard strange cooing noises from behind him, such as might originate from a young mother hen. Turning around, he saw that Ayla had gathered up the girl Fye in her arms and was pressing her face into her shoulder, protecting her from the sight of the carnage around her. It was no easy job. Fye seemed to be quite determined to get another good look at the carnage. The helmet of Sir Luca, with the head still inside it, seemed to hold particular fascination for her.

Ayla, however, would have none of it. She held the girl pressed tightly against her chest, cooing to her in a reassuring tone. “Don’t worry! Everything will be all right now! You’ll be safe!”

Reuben cleared his throat. “She probably knows that. After all, she made sure of it herself with a good, hard stick.”

Ayla threw a glare at him that would have made a king quake in his boots.

“What did I do wrong now?” Reuben wanted to know.

“You have to ask that, you blockhead? You beheaded a man in front of a five-year old!”

“Well... it helped winning the battle and keeping us from getting killed,” Reuben pointed out.

“That's no excuse!” Ayla snapped. “She will have nightmares for the rest of her life!”

“No, I won't,” Fye mumbled her protest into the linen of Ayla's gown, struggling to get free. “I'm perfectly fine!”

“Shh, girl, shh,” Ayla muttered, stroking her hair, and looking at her with loving eyes. The look in her eyes when they returned to Reuben was quite different.

“Couldn't you have done something different?” she demanded.

“Well, I could have stabbed him in the stomach.”

“Reuben!”

“That would have been slightly messier, you know, with all the guts and fluids spilling out...”

“Reuben! Shut up!”

Quickly, Ayla clamped her hands over Fye's ears. “You don't need to hear this, sweet. Just think of a fine meadow in the spring, you'll soon feel better.”

“Meadows in the spring make me sneeze,” the girl protested. “And I'm perfectly fine.”

“No you're not,” declared Ayla, with a determination Reuben just had to admire. “You've just witnessed a terrible ordeal that no child should have to witness!”

“I'm all right, really.”

“No, you're not!”

“You can trust her on that,” Reuben advised the little girl. “Ayla knows her healing. She knows when somebody is fine and when they aren't. And if they should happen to be fine in spite of her pronouncement... well, she has a wicked slap.”

Ayla shook an accusing finger at him. “And that coming from a man who beheads people? I like your cheek!”

“He was your enemy,” Reuben said, grimly. Then, his lips twitching into a smile, added: “And I know you like my cheek. You can show your appreciation of it with the soft caress of your sweet lips whenever you want.”

“The soft caress of my knuckles, more like!”

Reuben was just about to say something else, when a scream echoed across the wall, and a woman rushed out of the tower towards them, her hands flailing in the air. Who the hell was she? Reuben dismissed the question from his mind. There was only one important thing right now: From the way she was screeching, it was obvious the woman was crazy. Quickly, Reuben put himself between her and Ayla, raising his bloody sword, ready to strike the dangerous madwoman.