Ayla stood on the walkway of the outer wall, watching the doom of her people slowly rise into the sky. It was a dark, cloudy night and not much natural light fell on the land, but the entire enemy camp was ablaze with torches. Especially the area around the trebuchet was literaly burning with activity. Ayla supposed what she saw were hundreds of tiny people hurrying in a circle around the giant siege weapon, carrying building material or ammunition. However, from up here, it looked like nothing so much as a great, malignant eye with a glowing iris and a pupil lit with hellfire.
In the middle of the hellish eye stood the trebuchet. It was so high now, it didn't look like a spiderweb anymore, but like an insect itself, sitting patient, waiting to strike.
And strike it would. Soon.
"They're not going to make it in time," she whispered, terrified at how weak and thin her voice sounded up here in the cold air. "That thing is going to smash us to pieces."
"Milady, d-don't s-say such things," Dilli protested. The maid stood beside her mistress, shivering in the cold night wind in spite of her thick woolen cloak, eyeing the sheer drop beyond the wall with trepidation. Ayla knew that Dilli wasn't comfortable with being up here, at the very highest point of the outer wall. That her maid and best friend had come all the same warmed Ayla's heart. And her heart needed all the warmth it could get right now. Most of it was filled with ice-cold dread at the thought where Reuben was at this moment, what he was doing, or worse, what was being done to him.
"Why not?" she asked softly. "It is true."
Reuben fighting alone among hundreds of enemy soldiers... Reuben in chains, at the mercy of the Margrave, Reuben being led to the executioner... The images kept dancing past her inner eye in an endless dance of death.
Stop it! she chastised herself. You are the lady of Luntberg, not some lovelorn fool or a child, cowering in a corner. What would he say if he saw you like this?
That thought sent a jolt through her. She knew without a doubt what Reuben would say. He would not be touched, would not be glad that she was going to pieces because she was afraid for him. Oh, some part of him might be—the part that was too busy being in love with her to care about anything else. But the part of him that was rough and tough and ruthless, the part of him that made him the red robber knight, wouldn't be touched at all. That Reuben would tell her to get off her ass and do something.
Yes. He would definitely use the word "ass." And probably a few curses too. Ayla knew the thought should have made her cringe in horror, but for some reason, it made her smile.
She felt her spine stiffen with resolution.
"Gather the women and children."
It took a moment for Ayla to realize that the words had come out of her own mouth. Dilli needed a moment longer. She blinked at her mistress, taken aback.
"Milady?"
"You heard what I said. The women and children. Call them together. Now!"
"What... up here, Milady?" Incredulously, Dilli looked around at the narrow walkway.
"No, of course not! I want them in the inner castle courtyard, in front of the keep. Tell Captain Linhart to search the castle and bring all of them there."
Dilli, still perplexed, but showing obvious relief at the fact that she would be getting off the wall, dipped a hasty curtsey. "Yes, of course, Milady."
"And get Burchard, too. Tell him I want him there yesterday!"
"As you wish, Milady. But... if I may ask, why?"
Ayla gestured to the wooden monster rising above the enemy camp in the distance. "Once it is up, that thing will be able shoot through our walls, Dilli. Who says it won't also also shoot over our walls? What if one of the boulders they will hurl at us flies right over the outer and inner wall and into one of the buildings where the women and children are quartered? Can you imagine what a rock which can punch through castle walls will do to thin wooden walls and the people behind them?"
Dilli's face paled.
"Exactly." Ayla nodded, starting towards the tower stairs. "The soldiers have to stay on the walls, in case the bombardment is just a distraction from another kind of attack. But we have to find the safest place in the castle for the women and children to hide until the danger is past. Come."
"But, Milady..." Dilli was looking back and forth between her mistress and enemy camp in the distance. "Surely they won't really start firing at us? Surely, um... he will be in time?"
There was no need to ask which he Dilli was talking about. They both knew very well.
Ayla felt the surge of violent images return, stronger than ever. Reuben hurt, Reuben in chains... She pushed them down with all her strength. He had to fight his fight—and she had to fight hers.
She was ripped from her thoughts by a sudden swishing sound, a sound like the wings of the angel of death. She looked up just in time to see a motion out of the corner of her eyes, like a giant mantis striking out at its prey. The motion was gone from the night as quickly as a flash, but it was followed by a groan that seemed to come from the very bowels of hell. It rose and fell in a rhythmic chant that made Ayla's skin crawl with fear.
Turning, she searched the landscape for any attacker, anything close that could have uttered this unearthly cry. Nothing.
"What was that?" Dilli rushed towards her mistress. "Milady, what—" Quickly, Ayla held up a hand, stopping her friend in mid-step. "Be quiet! I think it's..."
The noise of the deadly angel's wings returned. Rising, growing above the hellish groan, it drowned out Ayla's voice and made fear surge within her. Not for Reuben, this time, but for everyone within the castle. Dilli fell to her knees, clasping her hands in prayer, and Ayla had half a mind to join her.
Please no! They can't already be—
An Explosion ripped the night apart and the castle wall shuddered. For a moment, Ayla thought the trumpets of God were about to sound and bring down the walls in retribution for her sins. She clutched at the parapet, trying to keep her knees from buckling. The spray of dirt from below hit her right in the face.
"Milady!" Jumping up from her kneeling position, Dilli rushed toward her, terror on her sweet face. "What happened? Your face, your beautiful dress...!"
"Never mind the dress," Ayla told her, spitting out bits of clover. She reached up and plucked an earthworm from her head that had somehow found its way into her hair. "Look."
Putting the earthworm down carefully on one of the crenels—the poor creature had suffered more than enough—she pointed down to a dark something on the ground far below them. Together, they leaned out between the crenels.
"I-is this what I think it is, Milady?"
"I'm afraid so." Ayla answered, grimly.
Down there on the ground, only a few feet away from the castle walls, a dark crater had opened in the earth like a fresh wound. At its center sat a ball of dark stone, as big as an ox's head, partly buried in the dirt.
Slowly, they raised their eyes towards where, in the distance, the arm of the trebuchet was swinging in the wind, sending its hellish groan up towards the heavens.
"Do you still think he'll be on time?" Ayla asked quietly. No answer came from Dilli. Well, she hadn't really expected one. Turning back to the tower, she motioned for her maid to follow her. "Come on. Quick! We have work to do."
*~*~**~*~*
Reuben stared at the man from behind a bush and wondered how best to kill him. Normally, there would have been hundreds of options—decapitation, a sword through the heart, or simply bludgeoning him to death. But in this case, the circumstances required a silent kill. Not that Reuben wasn't capable of an assassination, but he generally preferred to kill with plenty of noise so his other enemies would know he was coming.
Ah, well, it couldn't be helped. He couldn't afford to alert them to his presence right now. The Margrave's sentry would have to die in silence.
"So," Theoderich whispered beside him. "How are we going to get around him without him noticing us?"
Reuben looked sideways at the young squire. The young fellow really still had a lot to learn.
"We aren't."
"But, Milord, I thought you said we had to get passed h—" The squire's voice died when he saw the expression on Reuben's face. He swallowed, hard. "Oh. I see."
"Good. Now be silent and let me think."
Reuben returned his eyes to the enemy sentry in the distance. "There's another sentry down that way?" he asked, pointing to the northeast.
"Yes, Milord. Nobody in the other direction, though. The camp reaches almost to the river there, and they probably don't expect an attack from the water."
"With good reason. The only thing that could attack them from there are trouts. How far apart are the sentries?"
"At least a hundred yards."
"So if we take out two that should be enough to slip by in the darkness," Reuben mumbled. "Now... how to get rid of them...?" Focusing on the sentry once more, he ticked off possibility after possibility. Throat slashing? No, not quiet enough. Besides, the man was wearig something around his neck. He leaned forward, further around the bush, and squinted to pierce the darkness with his gaze.
"Satan's hairy ass! The bastard is wearing a gorget. And I was hoping we could just use a garrote and be done with it!"
"A... carrot?" The young squire stared up at his new knight master in confusion, and Reuben rolled his eyes.
"Garrote, not carrot, you young louse!"
"Um, if I may ask... Where's the difference, Milord?"
"A carrot is a vegetable. A garrote is a thin rope you use to strangle someone from behind."
"Oh. That's quite a difference."
"You can bet your ass it is," Reuben grunted. "I guess your old knight master didn't teach you about garrotes?"
"No, Milord. He didn't hold with fighting like a cowar— um, I mean, he didn't hold with attacking people from behind."
"Well, here's a piece of news for you, goldilocks: if you attack a sentry from the front, he'll most likely sound the alarm before you can kill him."
"Sounds quite reasonable, Milord."
"I'm so glad you agree with me," Reuben said, his voice dripping with murderous sarcasm. "Now keep your mouth shut while I think about a nice and quiet way to send that bastard to the devil."
"Yes, Milord. As you command; Milord."
Reuben thought.
"Is the other guard wearing a gorget too?"
"Yes, Milord."
"What kind of gorget? A metal one that covers the entire back of the head, neck and upper back, or just a narrow leather one, like this fellow?"
"The latter, Milord, I think."
"You think?"
"I-I'm certain, Milord."
"And the armor? Chain mail, plate, or simple padding like this fellow?"
"Padding, Milord."
"You are certain about that, too?"
"Y-yes, Milord."
"You had better be." Reuben slipped his hand inside one of his pockets and drew out his secret friend. The boy beside him didn't realize what it was immediately. Only when Reuben held it up for his inspection did he recognize the blade for what it was. His face paled.
"Scared?" Reuben asked.
"N-no, Milord. Not in the least."
"You'll have to get better at lying. It's one of the most useful survival skills."
"Y-yes, Milord."
"Here."
Reuben handed his squire the knife. The blade didn't glint as the starlight fell on it—it was black as coal.
"Why does it look like that, Milord?"
"I blackened it with soot before we left. The glint of metal can betray you in the dark, even over long distances."
"And... and now?"
Reuben gave the youth an encouraging smile. The little toad was doing this for the first time, after all—he needed some encouragement. He wanted to learn? Well, he would learn. With any luck he would soon rid himself of all those inconvenient restrictions commonly called "morals" and be just as soulless a bastard as his teacher.
"Do you know what to do now, goldilocks?"
"No, Milord."
"Well, then I'll tell you. Now," Reuben explained with a smile and a gesture at the sentry, "we have to stab him. And after him, his comrade. A stab to the kidney is the way to do it. That will stun him and prevent him from crying out. You grab his face—like this—" Without warning, Reuben sprang behind the squire, grabbed him and jerked him backwards. Judging from the way the youth's arms flailed and his eyes widened, it was a pretty good demonstration.
"Mmmh! Mmmpf!"
"—covering his mouth just in case, and let him fall backwards onto the knife."
Reuben jabbed Theoderich in the kidney with his forefinger, and the squire jerked violently.
"Mmmpf!"
Reuben grinned. Hmm... He had never thought so before, but maybe he had a talent for this teaching-thing. Maybe having a squire wouldn't be so bad.
"That has the added advantage that his weight will fall on your blade and drive it home," he explained, carefully, jabbing his finger in a little harder. "So, now you've stunned your enemy. This attack normally isn't fatal, though."
Theoderich relaxed. Reuben felt him draw in a big breath through his nose.
"Not right away, anyway. So you have to do this." Before the squire could react, Reuben had flipped him over onto the ground and, pressing his knee into lad's back, had him pinned down, face pressed into the dirt. Half a second later his finger was pressed into the base of Theoderich's neck.
"This is where the second and final stab wound goes," he whispered into his squire's ear. "It will be fatal immediately. Be sure to twist and move your knife on the way out to leave a good-sized hole." He moved his finger from side to side at the edge of Theoderich's blonde hair. "Now, your enemy is dead. Congratulations."
Rising to his feet, Reuben grabbed his squire by the hand and pulled him up. The young man was white as a sheet after washing day.
"Well," Reuben said with a bright smile that was, of course, completely free of evil amusement. Absolutely. Definitely. He was a serious teacher, after all, trying to impart an important lesson. "What do you think of my teaching?"
"I-impressive, Milord."
"Thank you, Theoderich. Is it just me, or does your voice sound a little hoarse? Is there something wrong?"
"M-maybe I'm getting a cold, Milord."
"Oh. I'm sorry to hear that. Are you ready to go and kill someone now?"
"N-not really, Milord."
Reuben smirked, and picked the knife up from where Theoderich had let it drop on the ground. "I thought as much. Wait here, goldilocks. I'll be back in a flash."
Reuben didn't wait for an answer. He strode over to the sentry, the hand with his dagger concealed between the folds of his surcoat. He didn't sneak, or try to duck down behind brush: he just walked over there, quietly, at an unhurried pace. If the guard should happen to turn and see him, he wouldn't see anything suspicious—just one of his comrades wearing the crest of the Margrave coming back from a piss in the river.
But the man didn't turn. He didn't see.
Three steps...
Two...
One...
Reuben's hand was on the man's mouth as fast as a striking cobra. But other than the snake, he didn't bring death by venom. The mercenary gave a low grunt as Reuben's blade sank into his kidney.
Reuben sighed. This was really too easy. Flipping the mercenary over, he inflicted the fatal wound with a quick jab, then returned to Theodrich and held out the bloody knife.
"Want to take the second one? It would be a valuable learning experience."
"M-maybe next time, Milord."
"As you like," Reuben shrugged. "Leaves more fun for me." He moved off towards the second sentry, away into the darkness. This time, it took him a little over five minutes to return. Theoderich nearly fell over with relief when his knight master reappared in front of him.
"Thank God!" The squire placed a hand over his heart and fell to his knees. "I thought you were gone for good, Milord! What happened?"
"That one was so fat, I don't think the knife was long enough to reach his kidney," Reuben growled. "I had to snap his neck! Damned annoying. Satan's hairy ass! Enemies could at least try and keep themselves in good enough shape to be killed properly."
"Y-yes, Milord. Of course, Milord."
"Well, it's done now. We should get going."
It was at that moment that they heard a terrific swishing noise. Reuben felt the hair on the back of his neck stand up. He had been at too many sieges to count, and he remembered that noise very well. Something dark and enormous raced over their heads and disappeared over the river, in the direction of Luntberg castle. A few seconds later, they heard it: the distant, dull thud that made the earth shudder under their feet.
"Yes, we should definitely get going—now!" Reuben snarled. "Get your ass moving!"
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Greetings, Milords and Ladies!
In case there are any professional assassins among you, what did you think of Sir Reuben's killing method? Sufficiently ruthless? ;-)
Your medieval scribbler
Sir Rob