The Robber Knight's Love

23. Sir Reuben the Coward

Ayla pouted and glowered at him, although there were other things she wanted to do far more. “I will only be too happy to oblige!”

“If you can't think of anything else, being put on the rack is always a classic people are glad to see. Or you could use a brazen bull, if you want.”

“What in God's name is a brazen bull?”

His smirk didn't waver, nor did his voice as he said: “You wouldn’t want to know.”

The way he said that told Ayla more than any horrible description ever could. And yet, the way he said it was so cool, so off-hand as if it were nothing special to die a torturous death.

With a shiver the memories came flooding back into her mind. Memories she had done her best to forget: Reuben standing on the wall, holding fire in his hand. Reuben forcing the fire down on the mercenary, lord of the flames, like Satan himself. How had he been able to do that without collapsing from the pain? What dark, demonic secrets were there in his past?

She glanced at him.

Should she ask? Could she dare? What if he wouldn't tell her? Worse even—what if he would?

“Would you scream in pain from this brazen bull?” The words tumbled out of her mouth before she could hold them back.

He regarded her intently.

“That depends. Do you mean 'you' as in 'somebody', or 'you' as in 'you'.”

She took a deep breath.

“The latter. If it were used on you, Reuben—would you scream?”

There was a moment of silence.

Finally, he said: “I didn't the last time.”

Oh dearest Lord above, thought Ayla, hardly able to keep her tears from flowing. What must his eyes have seen?

She could have asked him in that moment. Yes, she could have. She felt almost certain he might have answered.

Instead, she softly asked: “How's your hand?”

He looked at her with an emotion she couldn't quite decipher. Then, his devilish grin reappeared on his face, and he shrugged. “Quite well, actually. The gauntlet protected from the heat better than I would have expected.”

“Then why are you hiding it behind your back?” she asked, suspiciously.

“I'm not hiding it. I just happen to hold it there, that's all.”

“Then why don't you hold it somewhere else for a minute? Under my nose, for example, so I can examine it.”

“Really, it's fine. You don't need to...”

“Reuben?”

“Yes, Milady?”

“Hold out your hand this minute, or I'll wrestle it from behind your back!”

His grin widened. “That might be fun. I'm all for it. Who knows, we might end up passionately fornica—“

“Reuben! Hold out your hand, now!”

“Yes, Milady, of course, Milady.”

Wisely saying not another word, he held his hand out towards her. Ayla gasped. The entire hand was an angry, aggressive red as if it had been held into boiling water. In some places, the skin had blistered.

“You call this 'fine'?” she demanded. “You should have told me how bad it was! I would have come sooner.”

“I promise you,” he said in absolute earnesty, “It doesn't hurt at all.”