The Robber Knight

04. The Red Robber Knight

Ayla stared down the shiny length of sharpened metal. Then her gaze wandered to the robber knight. Through his visor slit she could see his dark eyes. There was no hint of hesitation in them. The sword the man was holding was a monster of a weapon, broader than Ayla's slender neck.

Slowly, very slowly, she reached for her pocket and grabbed the purse she always carried with her for emergencies. It held only a few silver Thalers—hopefully enough to satisfy this ravenous monster!

“Here,” she said, scathingly, throwing her purse at the man in the hope he would lower his sword to catch it and she could escape. “May you choke on it!”

He caught the purse easily with his left hand, without taking his eyes from her or moving the sword an inch away from her throat.

“Thank you,” he said, with an effected little bow. Ayla would have liked to slap him for that, but didn't dare. “And now get off your horse.”

“What?”

He sighed. “And we were doing so well. Girl, I'm robbing you. That means I take everything I want. Get off your horse.”

She stiffened, and her gaze hardened.

“If you think you can intimidate me, you villain, you are very much mistaken! I may have given you my money, but the only way you'll get me off this horse is if you drag me down forcibly.”

Proudly, she raised her chin, ignoring the blade at her throat. She had called his bluff. Ha! Now what could he do?

He sighed again. “Oh well, if you insist...”

*~*~**~*~*

Five minutes later, a very ruffled and even angrier Lady Ayla stood beside her horse on the ground.

“Lecher,” she hissed up the knight who was busy checking his armor for fingernail scratches.

“Oh please!” She could almost hear his eyes rolling. “If you think I purposefully touched you there, you are very much mistaken. I only meant to grab you around the waist.”

“Well, you aimed a bit too high for that!”

“My hand slipped.”

“So you say! I bet you did that on purpose!”

The knight snorted and picked a few long golden hairs from his breastplate. “You wish!”

Ayla gaped up at him in wordless indignation. The fiend had the audacity to suggest that she wanted, that she... It wasn't even possible for her to finish the thought in her mind! She could feel the color rising to her cheeks and gritted her teeth.

Finished with ridding himself of the remnants of the struggle, the knight looked down at her and laughed. “You look funny when you blush, do you know that, girl?”

“I can't find anything amusing about the situation,” she hissed between gritted teeth.

“Just wait.” He bent forward and patted her on the head. If he hadn't been too far up for her to reach and hadn't been wearing his helmet, she would have punched him in the face, sword or no sword. “In ten years or so, you'll tell this story to your friends, and it'll make the long winter evenings seem that much shorter.”

“If they've found and hanged you by then,” she snapped.

“Ha!” He threw his head back and barked in laughter. “You'll have to wait a very long time to hear that news.”

Ayla didn't want to, but she believed him. The way he handled that sword of his... He wouldn't be caught. Not if he could help it.

“Blackguard,” she muttered.

“You know, I was robbing another woman only three days or so ago, and she was much nicer than you.”

An angry tear ran down Ayla's face.

“Until this day,” she said, her voice quivering, “I had always thought knights to be men of honor. Apparently, I was mistaken.”

“Oh, I do have honor, Milady. A lot.”

“But you just said...”

“Not the sort of honor you mean, Milady—the sort that compels you to be courteous and pious. That sort of honor is, as I said, bothersome. The sort of honor I like is the kind you take away from pretty maidens.” Ayla wasn't sure, but she thought she saw him wink through the slit of his visor. “And I have heaps of that.”

He grabbed the reins of Ayla's horse and raised his free hand in farewell. “Good day, Milady.”

With an encouraging curse, he spurred his horse forward and galloped off. Soon, he was nothing more than a black and red streak, flashing between distant trees.

“I'll find you, do you hear me?” she shouted after him. “I'll find you, and when I do, I'll have you hanged from the highest tower of Luntberg Castle! That I swear by all the bones of my ancestors!”

All she heard in reply was the rustling of the wind in the trees and maybe, just maybe, the faint echo of a devilish laugh in the distance.

Ayla touched the place where the cold steel had pressed against the tender skin of her throat. The Margrave von Falkenstein was one thing—but at least he still kept to a distorted semblance of chivalry, tried to adhere to the rules and laws that governed life within the Holy Roman Empire. This fiend on the other hand... He had unsettled her in an unexpected manner. He had made her angry. Very angry.

Anger wasn't going to get her anywhere, though. Scowling at the surrounding forest, she turned and began stomping back towards the castle. If she ever got her hands on that robber knight, she would make sure that he never forgot the name of Lady Ayla von Luntberg!

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A very romantic first meeting, don't you think? ;) I think so, but I'd love to hear your opinion!

Also, I want to take this opportunity to thank all the lovely people who have started to follow me since I began this story. I'd like to thank you all indidually, but am fast running out of different ways to say 'thanks for following, you are awesome!!' :)

So, to everybody - thanks for following, because you ARE awesome!

By the way, if you always want to be up to date about new chapters, you can get the info on my facebook page, which can be reached via the external link.

Cheers

Robert

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

GLOSSARY:

Heel: This doesn't mean high heels ;) Heel is an old-fashioned medieval term for a bad guy.

Lecher: Medieval expression for a guy who's a bit too forward with women.