The Robber Knight's Love

26. Visions of the Past

Ayla strode determinately along the walkway. The guards down in the courtyard had told her that was where Isenbard was to be found, and she wanted a word with him. Turning around a corner, she saw him standing not far off, looking down into the valley, surrounded by a few guards. When he noticed her, he turned towards her and bowed.

“Ah, Milady. You come just at the right time. I have something of importance to discuss with you.”

“So have I,” said Ayla. “Why is there a hole in the wall of my stable? And,” she added, sniffing and wrinkling her nose, “why do you smell of horse manure?”

“Because I haven't had time to wash it off yet, Milady,” Isenbard answered with another bow.

“Wait a minute! That's no answ—”

“Milady?” Isenbard interrupted her, “I shall be more than glad to discuss horse defecation with you at some later time. Now, however there is something that urgently requires your attention.”

He pointed down into the valley. Distracted from her line of inquiry, Ayla looked to where he was pointing. It was a spot at the edge of the forest. There, men bearing the crest of Falkenstein were hacking away at trees. A fair number were already felled and lay on the ground. Other men were working on them, stripping off the bark and carving.

“What's this?” Ayla asked, frowning. “They're building more boats? That can't be. They're already across the river and have taken the bridge.”

“Boats aren't the only things you can build out of wood, Milady.”

She rolled her eyes. “I'm aware of that, uncle. But what, then?”

“I'm not entirely sure,” he admitted. “It looks like...” He paused, then shook his head. “No, but that wouldn't make any sense. I'm really not sure. I'm an old soldier, Milady. I am not very up to date regarding the latest war machinery.”

The sentence hung heavy in the air.

“What if there were somebody here who is?” Ayla dared to ask.

“Your merchant who is so knowledgeable about war?” Isenbard asked without taking his eyes off the soldiers at the edge of the forest.

“He isn't my merchant!”

Ayla wasn't sure, but she thought she saw a smile flit over Isenbard's normally so stern face. “Of course he isn’t. My mistake, Milady, I beg your pardon.”

“But... you were right. I was speaking of him,” admitted Ayla.

“I thought as much.”

“Do you know where he is?” she enquired.

“Celebrating his victory, most likely,” the old knight grumbled.

“What? What victory?” Ayla looked at him, perplexed and he waved a hand.

“Nothing, Milady. No, I don't know where he is.”

“Me neither. You there!” Ayla waved to one of the guards who eagerly stepped towards her.

“Yes, Milady?”

“Go look for Reuben. Find him and bring him to me.”

The eagerness in the guard's expression vanished instantly. He took a step back.

“I- I, Milady?”

“Yes, you.”

“A-alone?”

Ayla rolled her eyes. “You may take two other guards with you if you wish.”

Relief flooded the guard's face, and he bowed deeply. “Thank you very much, Milady. I shall fetch him instantly.”