The Robber Knight

29. Battle of the Bridge

“Yes, Milady?” A deep and strangely unfamiliar metallic voice came from behind the visor.

“I hereby appoint you supreme commander of all our armed forces. Defend us as you see fit. All our lives are in your hands, all my vassals at your command.” She threw a significant look at Sir Waldar and Sir Rudolfus. They understood.

Sir Isenbard bowed. “As you wish, Milady. Sir Waldar? Sir Rudolfus? Please call your men and follow me.”

She watched them march down towards the barricade. Under Sir Isenbard's orders, the force of about fifty men, consisting of the three knights' warriors and her own castle guards, positioned themselves behind the barricade. At a beckon of Isenbard's armored fist, five of his own men climbed onto the guard walk, stationing themselves atop the barricade shoulder to shoulder. With a shiver, Ayla realized that they would have to deal with the brunt of the attack.

Across the river, the horn blew again, drawing her eyes.

There he was. The red robber knight, in full armor. Now that Isenbard had shown her, she knew what wearing full armor meant. And now that she wasn't looking down on him from atop a barricade, she could fully appreciate the monstrous thing he was wearing. In the light of the morning sun, his armor glinted, as evil and impenetrable as the scales of a dragon.

Suddenly, she heard footsteps approaching and whirled around, gripping one of the surgical knives she had brought with her. But it was only Dilli. Relieved, Ayla clutched at her heart.

“Mary Mother of God, Dilli, you scared the wits out of me! I thought you were an attack from the rear! What on earth are you doing out here?”

The maid eyed the knife in her mistress' hand apprehensively. Quickly, Ayla put it away and repeated her question: “What are you doing here?”

“I have a favor to ask, Milady.”

Ayla looked back to the red knight.

“Men!” he shouted, his deep, strangely accented voice carrying all the way over the river and to the two women beside the tents. “Today we will win a great victory! We will triumph over this nanny who calls himself a knight and does a woman's bidding!”

A roar went up from the assembled soldiers as they raised their spears and axes.

“Err... I'm happy to help you any way I can, Dilli,” Ayla replied, not letting Sir Luca out of her sight. “Only not just now, maybe? As you see, I'm a little bit busy.”

“Forward,” the red fiend shouted. “Forward to honor and victory!”

“Oh yes,” Ayla mumbled. “Honor. I'm sure there's a lot of honor in attacking innocent people and threatening to burn their homes to the ground. Blackguard!”

She felt Dilli tug at her sleeve, but at the moment she had eyes only for her foe and his forces, slowly approaching the bridge.

Again, Dilli tugged at her sleeve. “I can't go back, Milady. I... c-came to help. Please... let me help with the wounded.”

That got Ayla's attention. She turned to stare at her maid and friend. “But you're terrified of anything that bleeds, Dilli. Once, you walked by farmer Albert's house when he was beheading a chicken, and you almost fainted. You came running back to the castle in tears.”

Dilli squared her tiny shoulders and nodded, her brown curls bobbing up and down with the motion. “I know. But I still want to help.”

“Err... I'm touched, Dilli. But your place isn't here on the battlefield.”

“My place is by your side, Milady, wherever that is.” The smaller Dilli looked up at Ayla with big, begging, doe eyes. “This is my only chance to help you. Please, Milady, let me stay.”