Slowly, Reuben raised his bloody sword towards the night sky. He wasn't exactly sure how that much blood had gotten on it, after all, his final stabs into the stomach and heart of the twitching remains of the Margrave had been done with a dagger, and not his sword. But he was exceedingly pleased about the bloodiness. The glistening gore produced a nice effect for his hundreds of awed onlookers.
"Victory!"
His shout was echoed in a renewed roar out of hundreds of throats. Men, women, even children who, regardless of the danger, had rushed onto the walls to watch his duel with the Margrave were cheering and crying and throwing their hats in the air.
"Reu-ben! Reu-ben! Reu-ben!"
Tilting his head back, Reuben let the worship of the crowd wash over him. Being the victorious hero instead of the villain who burned, pillaged and murdered everything in sight—his usual role—had some advantages. For example, there were more people left to cower at your feet and lick your boots.
With relish he let his eyes wander over the hundreds that were now in his hands, both on the wall and down here. And then, finally, he let his gaze travel to the one whose worship he most wished for, the one whose enemy he had just crushed. He couldn't wait to meet her blue eyes and read in them her utter adoration.
There! There she is!
Ayla stood where he had left her, high upon the wall, over the inner gate. Her arms were raised just like those of any other person in the courtyard. Reuben took a step forward. What would she say? What would she do?
She stiffened. The joy which had suffused her features just a moment ago bled away and was replaced with an expression of horror. Then, her arms fell abruptly to her side and she turned her back on him.
What?
Reuben uttered a wordless growl. All right, he hadn't been expecting her to be so grateful that she'd drag him off to her bedchamber and offer up her virginity—although that would have been nice. But he'd at least expected her to plaster him with passionate kisses, or smile at him, not present him with her backside, and fully clothed at that!
He was just starting forward to give that little wench a piece of his mind when he saw the red glow around her. Other people had noticed it, too. Up on the wall, a few turned around. Reuben couldn't see the reaction on their faces, but he heard their screams. And then he smelled the smoke.
No! Stinking pestilential boiling pits of hell full of rotten demon entrails, no! That smoke couldn't mean what he thought it meant. Not after how hard they had fought! Not after everything! How could this have happened?
That question was answered only a moment later, when from high up on the wall, mad laughter drifted down towards Reuben.
"There it is, you heretics and infidels: your punishment!" The voice was high and hoarse, and clearly hadn't been used in a long time. Its owner seemed very determined to make up for that neglect, though. "You will burn! Burn first in the flames of your own arrogance, and then in the fires of hell!"
Screams came from the wall, and more mad laughter. Reuben's eyes flew to its origin. There he stood: Gernot the fanatic, dressed in his dirty prison rags, his eyes wide and lit with a wild light.
And not any wild light, either. Reuben knew what he was talking about: he had seen wild lights flicker in the eyes of a thousand enraged enemies. This wasn't just the sort of wild light you'd see in the eyes of a man who wanted to kill his enemy. This was the sort of wild light you'd see in the eyes of a man who thought the whole world was his enemy, and wanted to burn it down.
Reuben's teeth clenched in rage.
How the hell did he get out of the dungeon?
Then, suddenly he remembered: of course! The enemy soldiers had opened the dungeon gates! Gernot must have escaped while he was busy taking care of those bastards!
"You have cursed this land!" Stabbing a finger at the surrounding crowd, Gernot drew himself up to his full height. "The blood you have shed with your heretical weapons will be as salt to your fields! It will ruin your harvests and poison your children! Your homes shall be destroyed by the righteous wrath of God! There, do you see?" He gestured to the flames behind him. "His wroth has already struck! This is God's will!"
And your handiwork, no doubt, Reuben thought grimly. It always amazed him how people had no problems burning whole cities down in the name of God, but if someone pinched a loaf of bread or slept with the wrong girl, nobody ever accused God of stealing or committing adultery. Reuben had never ever burned down a city or a castle in the name of God. After all, why let someone else take all the credit for your hard work?
"I warned you!" The fanatic's voice rose higher and higher. "I warned you to leave the path of sin, told you to repent, but you wouldn't listen! Now, it is too late! Now all of you will pay the price of sin! And as for you—"
Whirling around, he pointed an accusing finger at Ayla.
"You, witch, you, who are the unholy head of this band of heretics, shall meet the death of all witches! You will burn! Burn, I say!"
Ayla's gaze flickered between the keep and the madman. Reuben saw her pale, and felt his fists clench.
Over the growing crackling of the flames, Reuben heard a noise. Not really a cry, it was too weak for that. It sounded more like the sound of a wounded, week old moose. Reuben didn't understand what the sound was until Ayla's scream shattered the night.
"Yes!" The fanatic laughed. "Do you hear that, witch? The cries of your father? He is already burning, and soon, you will follow! You will burn! You will all burn!"
"Father! No!"
Forgetting the twenty-foot drop in front of her, Ayla stumbled forward. She caught herself just before she reached the edge of the wall, but her arms reached out towards the glow of the fire. Even over the wall, Reuben could see flames licking up towards the night sky now, and smoke rising over the keep.
Her father! Of course!
Reuben cursed himself for not thinking of that earlier. The man was a bedridden old cripple! Of course he would still be in the keep! There was no one else up there, how could he try and escape the flames? He couldn't! And since she was the sentimental sort, Ayla would probably mind if her father burned to death.
Satan's hairy ass! Did she expect him to do something about that?
He took another look at her face, at the tears running down her cheeks. It only took that one look and he knew: he might not have to do something, but he was bloody well going to!
"You there!" Stepping forward, Reuben grabbed one of the enemy soldiers, who, even kneeling down, was still holding on to one end of a siege ladder. "Give me that ladder!"
"L-ladder?" The soldier glanced down at the object, confused.
"Yes, man, are you deaf? Give me that ladder!"
"But... It's a siege ladder."
"I know it is! Give it to me! I need to storm the castle!"
"You?" Now, the soldier looked even more confused. "But... you're one of the defenders, aren't you?"
"Yes! I need to storm the castle anyway! Now will you give me that ladder or do I have to kill you for it?"
"N-no, Sir! Of course not! Here you are."
"Good. Now on your feet! And you, and you, and you!" Stabbing his sword at several of the men, the strongest and toughest of all the ones around him, Reuben gestured to the wall. "Follow me!"
Without waiting to see if they would obey, he turned and sprinted towards the castle wall, clutching the siege ladder under one arm. In the other hand, he still held his sword. He pointed it over his shoulder, at the army. "And the rest of you—stay where you are!"
Then he doubled his speed.
"You will burn!" fanatic screeched above him. "You will all bu—"
"Oh, shut your trap!" Reuben bellowed. Drawing back his arm in lightning move, he hurled his sword up, up towards the origin of the voice and over the wall. It whirled through the air in a steel dance of death, and struck the fanatic Gernot in the center of the chest.
He did shut his trap then. Immediately and finally. Slowly, he tipped forward, and, slipping through the gap between two crenels, tumbled off the wall, crashing to the ground a few yards away.
Reuben didn't stop. Raising the siege ladder, he ran forward and slammed it against the wall. He was up two rungs before the other men had even reached him.
"Grab the thing!" Reuben bellowed. Already he could feel the ladder tipping backwards. That didn't make him stop climbing though. "Grab the damn ladder!"
The men who only a few minutes ago would have cheered to see his head cut off obeyed without question. All of them braced themselves against the stone wall, pushing the ladder against it, trying their utmost to hold it in place. Still, under Reuben's massive weight of muscle and steel, the ladder swayed slowly back and forth.
"If you let go, you're dead!" Reuben barked, grabbing the next rung. Most likely, in that eventuality, he'd be dead, too. But he tried not to focus on that.
Faster! I have to go faster!
And so he did. His hands few upwards at a stunning speed. The ground disappeared beneath him until all the soldiers down there looked like mere ands gathered around a blade of grass, swaying in the wind. And still he wasn't up there.
Satan's hairy ass! How long is this going to take?
He looked up again to see how far he still had to go—just in time to see that there was no next rung to reach for. His head shot over the breastwork and he froze, gazing directly into Ayla's deep, sapphire eyes.
*~*~**~*~*
When Ayla heard a noise behind her and whirled around to see Reuben's face poke over the breastwork, she thought at first that the world had turned completely mad.
"H-how... how did you get up here?"
"I stormed your castle, of course. What else?" Swinging over the crenels, Reuben flashed her his devilish smile. "But don't worry. I told the enemy army to stay outside."
"Oh... Reuben!"
Ayla wasn't even conscious of having moved. One moment she was just standing there, trembling with the horror of what was happening, the next she was in his arm, sobbing on his chest. "Reuben... my father! He... he's in there!"
With a trembling hand, she pointed at the keep, which by now had flames licking out of all the lower windows. Oh, how she wished with every fiber of her being that the building were solid stone. But roof supports, window shutters, and God only knew what else inside was made of dry old wood that would ignite like tinder. And at the very top of the castle was... was...
"Oh God, Reuben... my father! My father's up there! I have to... I simply have to..."
You can't, said the voice of reason in her head. There's nothing you can do about it! The lower floors are already all on fire! No human being can get up there. You can do nothing whatsoever.
Never had she hated reason as much as right then.
Reuben didn't say anything. He just pulled her close and held her. But even his arms held no comfort now.
"Milady!"
Ayla turned her face just enough to see Dilli, eyes wide and face black with soot, stumbling towards her. Tears had made paths down her cheeks, mirrowing those on Ayla's own.
"Oh, Milady! Your father... your poor father..."
Raising a trembling hand towards the keep, Dilli's last words drowned in a sob.
"I know, Dilli. I know."
"We tried to get him out, Milady, we really did! But the staircase was already on fire and there was so much smoke and we couldn't... we just couldn't!"
A tremor ran through Ayla. "Y-yes. Of course. Is everybody else safe?"
"Yes, Milady. But your poor father..."
"I know!" Was it a shout? A sob? A scream of desperation? To Ayla, the noise that erupted form her seemed like all three thrown together. "But what can I do, Dilli? Nothing! I can't do anything! Nobody can!"
"That's not completely true," said a voice from beside her. "I can."
Startled, Ayla looked up. "Reuben? What do you mean?"
He detached himself from her and, with another devilish smile, stepped away. "Good bye, Ayla. Just in case I don't come back: I love you. And I'm really sorry I never got to seduce you."
Then he started running.
It took Ayla moment to realize what he was doing. The moment she did, a tidlewave of terror flooded through her such as she had never known. "No!" Ayla lunged forward, grabbing at him. "Reuben, no! You'll die, you'll..."
Her fingers closed on empty air. Reaching the edge of the wall, Reuben sprang. He sailed through the air for a few yards, then plummeted towards the ground like a stone. Very unlike a stone, he caught himself on the ground with his arms, rolled and came to his feet again. Not even stopping for one moment, he sprinted towards the keep.
"No!" Ayla cried. "Reuben, no don't!" While all the time, something inside her was screaming: Yes! Yes, go! If anybody can do it, it's you! Please!
Only moments later, Reuben reached the doors of the keep. Kicking them open, he ducked underneath the cloud of black smoke that erupted towards him, and dove inside.
The time Ayla spent standing up on the wall outside the keep, waiting, paying for Reuben to come back out was the longest wait of her life. She spent it mentally listing all the ways she was going to kill him if he ever got there alive. When she ran out of murder methods, she started listing all the ways she was going to kiss him if he got her father out of there. Unfortunately, she didn't know many ways to kiss, so the list turned out to be very short. And then she had nothing to do but stand there and stare up at the burning keep, feeling her heart burn with it.
Please, she prayed. Please, just come back out alive, and I'll let you kiss me however you want! Please! I need you! I love you!
But the doorway of the keep remained empty. All that came out was more smoke, and the occasional burst of sparks.
"I... I'm sure he'll be all right, Milady," Dilli offered timidly.
Ayla swallowed hard. "Are you? Are you really?"
"N-no."
"Then why say it?"
"I thought it might make you feel better, Milady."
"Th-thanks. But I'm afraid it didn't work."
"Oh. Sorry, Milady."
"Dilli?"
"Yes, Milady?"
"Hold me."
"Yes, Milady."
A moment later, Ayla felt her friend and maid's arms envelop her. They were warm, and familiar, and should have been comforting—but they were all wrong! Not nearly strong or hard enough. In other words: they weren't Reuben's arms.
"Oh... Dilli! If he doesn't... doesn't come out... I don't know what..."
"Sh... Don't think about that, Milady." Her maid's hand gently caressed the top of her head. "It'll be all right. Everything will be all right."
"He's been in there so long already!"
"I know, Milady. I know. Just relax and—"
"I can't relax! I have to get down there!"
"Down?" Dilli's eyes flew wide open in surprise. "Down where?"
"Down into the courtyard! I have to be there if he— I have to be there when he comes out!"
The maid hesiateted. "I don't think that's a very good idea, Milady. It's so close to the fire and—"
Ayla wrenched herself from the other girl's grasp. In seconds, she was through the tower door and had started down the steps.
"Milady! Milady, wait!"
Ayla didn't wait. It was pitch-black inside the tower. The torches had gone out, and in the panic nobody had thought of rekindling them. But she didn't care. She ran down those steps as if Paradise awaited her at the end. Maybe it really did. That all depended on whether he would get out alive.
"Milady!"
Dilli's shouts were getting fainter. In front of her, Ayla could see the reddish glow of the fire through the lower door of the tower. Someone had left it standing open, and without having to fumble for the latch, she stumbled out into the night. The stink of the inferno hit her right in the face. She coughed.
"Reuben!" Smoke drifted her way, and again she had to cough again. "Reuben! It's me! Ayla!"
No answer from the keep. Apart from the crackling of the fire, the doorway remained silent and empty.
"Reuben... please!"
Nothing. Curse that stubborn, cocky blaggard! Why couldn't he ever do what he was supposed to?
"Reuben... please! Please come out alive! I'm beging you!"
Still nothing. Ayla could feel her hands start to shake.
"All right!" she screamed at the keep door. "All right! Come out of there alive, and I'll let you seduce me! I'll let you have your wicked way with me! Forget about the marriage! Just come out of there alive, and you can have me!"
And not a second later, the smoke parted, and a blood-red figure, blackened by smoke and soot, stumbled out of the inferno, carrying another figure in its arms. Sobbing, Ayla rushed forward. Reuben was hardly recognizable. His hair was half burned away, his cheeks were raw and red. The only thing that was the same were his eyes. They fastened onto her, with a hundred times the usual burning intensity. His cracked lips quirked up into a crazy smile.
"I told you," he rasped. "I told you I'd walk through fire for you."
Then he collapsed.
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Greetings, Milords & Ladies!
I have wonderful news! "The Robber Knight's Love", Volume 2 of the Robber Knight Series, is now available as ebook and paperback preorder, with SPECIAL BONUS CHAPTERS delving into Sir Reuben's mysterious past! You can get it on Amazon or Barnes & Noble!
I hope you enjoy the extra chapters!
Farewell
Sir Rob