The Robber Knight's Secret

60. True Victory

"Um... Milady?" One of the guards next to her threw her an uncertain look. "How did Sir Reuben end up at the head of an army of a thousand men?"

Ayla stared down at Reuben, her eyes narrowed to slits. "I don't know."

"Um... Should we cheer, or prepare to defend the castle?"

"I don't know that either. But in the name of all that's holy, I intend to find out! Open the gates!"

The soldier's eyes went wide. The heads of all the men and women on the wall snapped around to stare at her. "M-milady?"

"You heard me! Open the gates, now!"

"But Milady..."

"Now, soldier!"

The gaze she directed at the man made him take a step back. He didn't meet her eyes, and didn't try to argue anymore. Instead, he bowed hastily, twice, and then hurried down the tower to obey her orders. By the time Ayla reached the bottom of the tower stairs and stepped outside into the sunlight, the gate was already being pulled open.

"How many men do you wish to take outside as an escort, Mila—"

The guard's words were cut short as Ayla swung herself onto Eleanor's back and spurred her horse forward, galloping right past the soldier and out of the castle, completely alone.

"Milady! Wait! You can't..."

What exactly she couldn't do was lost in the thunder of hooves. Ayla wouldn't have listened anyway. She was seeing red – literally. Without a moment's concern for her safety, she rushed down the narrow mountain path, her eyes fixed on the figure of the Red Knight, who had started to increase his pace, leaving behind army and standard-bearer, galopping up the Luntberg towards her. Ayla didn't know whether to wheep with joy or snarl with rage at the sight. Right now, she felt much more like doing the latter.

They met halfway up the mountain. Reuben slid out of the saddle, his horse still galloping, and ran towards her. Without realizing, Ayla did the same. They stopped only a few paces away from each other, and Reuben dropped to one knee, lowering his head.

"Milady." Drawing his sword from its scabbard, he offered it to her, hilt first. "Your arrogant, disobedient servant."

Ayla lifted an eyebrow. "Shouldn't it be 'your humble servant', or 'your obedient servant'?'"

"You've got more than enough of those." Without waiting for her permission, he rose and crossed the remaining distance between them. Ayla felt the heat of the body, felt the diabolical force that always seemed to draw her inexorably towards him. She would have liked nothing better than to fall into his arms right then and there and kiss every part of him she could reach.

Instead, she raised her hand and stabbed a finger towards the army covering the slopes of the mountain.

"What," she demanded, doing the best she could to keep her voice steady, "is that?"

Reuben turned to glance at the vaste horde of heavily armed warriors.

"That? That's just my escort."

"I sent you out with an escort of two-hundred. You've come back with one thousand! Now, I understand if you're no genius of mathemathics, but even you should be able to see the discrepancy!"

Glancing at the army once more, Reuben nodded, thoughtfully. "Yes, I see your point. There do seem to be a few more than when I left, don't there?"

"Yes. Indeed. And most of them are sporting my enemy's colours."

"Wrong." Reuben raised a hand, and reached out to touch her face. Ayla shied back like a startled filly. If she let his hands touch her skin, she knew she would succumb to him. And right now, she needed to stay angry. "Very wrong, Milady. Those are all your men down there."