The Robber Knight's Love

49. Thunder and Lightning

The sound of footsteps came from the dark interior of the tower. Only moments later, Burchard stepped out onto the wall, bowing to Ayla, and, much more reluctantly, nodded to Reuben.

“The men are ready,” he told them, his voice just as tense as Reuben's. “They only wait for your signal.”

“Good.”

As the three of them stepped closer together and turned east to watch the outer gates, another clap of thunder sounded. It was closer this time. With a little 'plink', the first rain-drop hit Reuben's helmet. Another followed, and another. Burchard put the hood of his cloak up. Reuben unfastened his helmet from the leather strap on his belt, and put it in place over his head. He suddenly looked a lot less human, and a lot more like the monster Ayla had met in the forest so long ago.

Shivering, Ayla put her arms around herself. She should have remembered to bring a cloak. Now it was too late. Now, she couldn't get off this walkway. She was transfixed by what she knew must be happening beyond the outer wall.

Of course, she couldn't see it, but she could feel it. She could feel the enemy scout spotting the light from Hans' torch. She could feel him running back to his camp, as fast as his feet would carry him. She could feel him stumbling into the camp, drunk with excitement. She could feel the rising bloodlust of the mercenaries at hearing the news that their enemies' defenses were down. She could feel Sir Luca de Lombardi stepping out of his tent, and activity spreading through the camp as he gave the order they had all been waiting for: the order to attack.

The enemy was coming.

So she just stood there, as the rain fell faster and faster, and her dress only provided a rudimentary protection against the elements.

“I can't persuade you to go back into the keep, can I?” Reuben asked.

“No.”

“It will get dangerous up here.”

“I'm fully aware of that.”

She heard him sigh. Without taking his gaze of the outer gate, he shrugged the cloak off his shoulders, and hung it around hers. Gratefully, she snuggled into the cloak, which was coarse compared to her usual linen garments, and far too large for her, but oh so warm and comforting. And it smelled of Reuben—a wild, manly smell, that, when she closed her eyes, almost made her forget where she was. She could roll herself up into a little ball of warmth, and pretend she was safely back at the castle, and the danger was over, and she and Reuben were alone in a cozy little room, while raindrops pattered on the roof outside...

The harsh noise of metal on stone woke her from her nocturnal day-dream. Her eyes snapped open, and she stared in the direction of the gate, where the noise had come from.

She saw only darkness.

“What is it?” she whispered. “What was that noise?”

“Look.” Reuben pointed, but Ayla still couldn't see anything. Only after a few more seconds did she begin to distinguish several black shapes in the greyness of the rain.

“One of them must have bumped against the gate in the dark,” Reuben muttered. “Blundering fools! If you leave your torches behind to be stealthy you should at least be able to see in the dark, or you had better leave your armor behind to stop making such a racket!”

Ayla squinted sideways at Reuben, in his monumental red plate armor, and a great helmet on his head with only one thin slit to see through. You could hardly be more armored if he tried. He seemed to hear her unspoken question.

“I know how to fight at night,” he growled. “This is not my first battle in the dark. Brescia, Faenza, Taillenbourg... I have gotten used to it over the years.”