The Robber Knight's Secret

01. Red

Reuben reigned in his horse and brought it to a halt beside the Dale Bridge. Raising a hand, he made a commanding gesture to the guard on the opposite riverbank, telling him to get over here, and to get over here now.

The sun caught on the red color of his gauntlet, making it gleam like freshly spilled blood. The color was no accident. Reuben had chosen it himself, and he knew exactly what freshly spilled blood looked like. He had spilled enough of it himself, and soon intended to start doing so again. A devilish grin of anticipation pulled at the corners of his mouth.

The guard on the other side of the bridge hadn't turned to him. He was still watching the East for approaching enemies, just as he was supposed to. Reuben could only approve of such vigilance, but just now, more important things were at hand.

"Hey, you there!" He called to the man and waved to him again. "Get over here now, or I'll have my next saddle made out of your miserable hide!"

The guard gave a start, and turned towards the voice. When he saw the giant red figure atop the great black warhorse and realized who had come to pay him a visit, he blanched, sprinted over the bridge, and, on reaching Reuben, immediately dropped to one knee. Reuben noted the reaction with satisfaction. Only a few weeks ago had he taken over command of the soldiers of Luntberg, and already they were beginning to show proper respect. It was amazing what a little discipline could accomplish—well, discipline, and the threat of horrible, violent death if the soldiers didn't do exactly as he said.

"Sir Reuben," the guard panted, springing to his feet again and standing straight. "I am at your command! How may I serve?"

"Have any of our scouts returned yet?"

"One is just now coming in, Sir. I spotted him only a few minutes ago, approaching from the east. Look!"

The guard pointed towards the forest in the distance. And indeed, now that he looked closely, Reuben could see flashes of color between the trees. It looked like a solitary rider, approaching fast.

"Excellent. I'll wait here for him. I want to hear his report first hand. And as for you..."

"Yes, Sir Reuben?"

"You will damn well try and stand straighter, man! You have a posture like a rusty old sickle! It's a disgrace!"

The man tried his utmost to stand even more erect. Reuben fancied he could hear a few bones creak under the strain. He smiled to himself and leaned back in the saddle, waiting in a leisurely posture, while the man-at-arms beside him sweated his trepidation out through every pore.

Wasn't life fun?

Finally, the awaited rider shot out from behind the trees and raced over the meadow beyond the river, towards the bridge. When he spotted the gigantic figure in red armor, he spurred his horse on to a last effort, and then reigned it in, not ten feet from the bridge. He slid from the animal's back and fell to one knee, bowing his head.

"Sir Reuben," he exclaimed, breathing hard. "I am at your command! How may I serve?"

Reuben smiled to himself again. Yes, he had definitely done a good job at instilling discipline into those fellows.

"You may tell me what you learned and observed on your mission."

"Certainly, Sir Reuben. It is my honor to serve you and Lady Ayla!"

"Lady Ayla and me," he corrected, his eyes narrowing. "You serve first Lady Ayla, then, and only then you serve me."

The scout realized his mistake a second too late and nodded eagerly. "Of course! I serve Lady Ayla with all my heart! I would lay my life down for her."