The Robber Knight

13. Sewing Survival Tactics

She shook her head. “No, I don't think so. What's your name? Wait, I think I recognize you. Aren't you Berthar? Your sister is married to one of the castle guards.”

“Yes, Milady. I come to visit her sometimes.”

“So, Berthar. Why did I give you that order?”

The man looked down, avoiding her eyes. “I couldn't say, Milady.”

A smile tucked at the corners of Ayla's lips. This was a clever man. He knew how to use words. “You mean you literally cannot say—because you're afraid of offending your mistress. Don't be afraid, Berthar. I'm not having all the food brought to the castle because I plan to leave you stranded out here alone, at the mercy of the mercenaries.”

The man's head snapped up with evident surprise. “You're not? But I thought...” And then, realizing what he had said, he clamped his mouth shut quickly and looked down again. “Beg your pardon, Milady.”

“There's nothing you need to apologize for.” She took a step closer. “Berthar, look at me.”

He did as she had commanded. There was uncertainty and fear in his round, stubbly face.

“I'm going to do my utmost to keep you all safe,” Ayla said, trying to infuse the words with every ounce of earnestness in her heart. “I'm going to fight for you, your homes, and your families. But I'm not the warrior my father was. I'm young, inexperienced, and far less powerful than the Margrave von Falkenstein. There may come a time when we cannot hold out here any longer and must retreat into the castle.”

Berthar nodded. “I understand, Milady.”

“Do you?” She raised an eyebrow. “I said we.”

Berthar was quick. His eyes flew open in astonishment.

A few moments later, she heard gasps of surprise all around her, as the others understood.

“Do you mean...? You can't mean...”

“I mean,” Ayla said, her small, feminine voice easily silencing that of the man before her, “that if the worst comes to the worst, I will not flee alone and leave behind those to whom I have pledged my protection. I will take everyone along with me into the castle.”

Burchard gripped her arm and hissed into her ear: “What are you saying? You know we can't...”

She silenced him with a single look. He let go of her arm.

“As we live together so we stand together,” she told Berthar. “As we live together, so we fall together. Do you understand, Berthar?”

There was a fierce gleam in the peasant's eyes. “Aye, Milady!”

“Well? What are you waiting for? I would imagine gathering enough supplies for an entire village takes some time, so get to it!”

He fell to his knees, and all the other villagers around her followed suit. They stayed like that for three immeasurable seconds, then sprang up again and began to disperse, conversing eagerly about what needed to be done.

As soon as they were far enough away, Burchard grasped her arm again and pulled her towards him. “You foolish young girl!” he growled into her ear. “Have you any idea how quickly our supplies will be used up with the entire village quartered in the castle? You've just ruined our only chance of sitting out this siege!”

Ayla didn't reply; she just waited.

“You also,” Burchard added grudgingly, as he observed the feverish activity among the peasants, “have just gained your men's undying loyalty. Well done.”