Ayla stared at Reuben, and everybody else in the room stared at him with her, their eyes no longer full of hope, but incredulity.
“You,” she declared, “are definitely not well.”
Reuben rolled his eyes. “That's not the entire plan, of course.”
“There's more?” Burchard snorted derisively. “Let me guess... We lend the enemy our weapons so they can kill us more easily? Or why don't we just smash the castle to bits ourselves? That would save the Margrave so much trouble!”
The look Reuben threw the steward was enough to make him shut his mouth.
“My plan does not involve destroying the castle,” he said through gritted teeth. “But it does involve something I dislike doing almost as much.” Ayla felt him fix his gaze on her. “Are you willing to hear me out, Milady?”
Ayla was by no means as confident anymore that this plan of Reuben's was their salvation as she had been a few seconds ago. But she nodded nevertheless.
“To the very end,” she said, quietly.
“Then follow me!” Taking her hand, Reuben pulled her toward the door of the room. “I cannot explain from here. We must be on the castle wall for you to understand.”
Ayla let herself be pulled along willingly. She would have followed him all the way to Thule as long as he didn't let go of her hand. Yet his route didn't take them nearly as far. He merely marched to the inner wall, and there, at the gatehouse, nodded to one of the guards posted at the entrance to the tower.
At this miniscule gesture, the guard jumped away as if stung by a viper. “Yes, Sir? I’m yours, Sir! Ready to serve, Sir!”
Ayla smirked.
“What?” Asked Reuben, raising an eyebrow at her.
“Seems you have the soldiers well in hand already.”
He shrugged. “They obey my orders. But it is you they are willing to die for.” One corner of his mouth quirked up in a devilish smile. “Can't say that I blame them.”
Ayla didn't get a chance to reply to that. Reuben barked an “Out of the way!” at the soldier, who jumped aside like nervous grasshopper. He pulled her into the tower and without stopping picked one of torches from the wall that even during the day illuminated the gloomy interior. They began to climb the spiral staircase, and the sound of feet behind them told Ayla that the other four were not far away.
Finally, they reached the top of the stairs and stepped out onto the wall. A couple of guards kept watch there.
“You!” Reuben gestured to them, and they blanched, taking a step back. “Yes! I mean you, puny codpiece number one, two and three! Go take a leak somewhere!”
They hurried away, along the allure.
“Why did you do that?” Ayla demanded to know, her cheeks flaming.
“Send them away? You’re the lady of the castle. You need to hear my plan first. If you approve of it, I want all the soldiers to hear of it at the same time. I don't want false rumors to spread.”
“That wasn't what I was talking about!” she hissed. “Why did you call them... well, whatever you called them!”
“Puny codpiece?”
Her cheeks flaming still brighter, she nodded.
“It is an endearment among military men,” he told her with a diabolical smirk.
Ayla narrowed her eyes. Somehow, she found that hard to believe. However, the arrival of Burchard and the others saved Reuben from further inquisition.
“So,” Burchard grunted. “Now that you've dragged us up here, you can tell us. What is this harebrained scheme of yours?”
“Look out there,” Reuben said, pointing down from the walls. “What do you see?”
Ayla looked to where he was pointing, then turned back to look at the others around her. They shook their heads, seemingly just as confused as she was.
“The outer courtyard,” Burchard stated in a you'd-better-stop-messing-with-me voice.
Reuben smiled, evil dancing in his grey eyes.
“That's what it may be called by you,” he said. “But it has another name. A darker one.”
*~*~**~*~*
“... and so it will end. One way or another,” Reuben finished.
The others stared at him, mesmereized. The Red Robber Knight had not taken long for his explanation. But in the few minutes since he had begun, the entire world had changed. The eyes of his audience were wide—full of insecurity, and possibility, and fear.
“That,” Burchard managed in a raspy voice, “is the most idiotic idea I have ever heard of!”
“V-very risky,” Sir Rudolphus agreed.
Linhart simply shook his head.
Sir Waldar simply burped again. The others turned to stare daggers at him. “Oops,” he grumbled. “Sorry.”
“The question is not whether it is a perfect plan.” Reuben’s voice was perfectly calm. “The question is: do we have a better one? We are besieged in this castle and cannot get out. Our tactical and strategical options are limited, our choice of weapons even more so. Either we take this chance that providence had offered to us, or we simply wait. For that is all we can do. Sit. Wait. Weaken. And eventually starve.”
A heavy silence descended over the little group.
“So now we face a choice,” Reuben continued. “Do we sit back and doom ourselves to defeat, or do we do this, do we take up the sword and grind our enemies to dust?”
He nodded at Ayla.
“The decision is yours, Milady.”
Slowly, Ayla let her gaze travel over the assembled men. Burchard, stubborn, loyal, Burchard; the calm and strong Captain Linhart; the red-eared Sir Rudolphus; the enormous bulk of Sir Waldar; and finally, him: Reuben. The man she loved. The man who was asking her to entrust her life to him.
She hesitated one more moment—then nodded.
“We'll do it!”
Reuben visibly exhaled. Burchard's mustache visibly bristled. He had to work very hard to not make a disparaging remark.
“But,” Ayla added, meeting Reuben’s eyes, “we can't do it alone, can we?”
The Scowl on Reuben's face was answer enough. “No, Milady. Unfortunately, my plan relies on certain... lowlife individuals.”
*~*~**~*~*
Ayla thought that Madalena looked terrified when she was lead into the room a second time. Well, she had good reason to be. It was not just Ayla and Reuben in there this time, although his presence alone would be enough to scare anyone out of his or her wits. This time, Sir Reuben, Burchard, Captain Linhart, Sir Rudolphus and Sir Waldar all surrounded Ayla's high-backed chair, making an impressive official escort.
There was only one conclusion the woman could draw from this, as Ayla well knew. She hated to do this to a loyal vassal who was guilty of nothing but being married to the wrong man, but she had no choice. All their lives now depended on what transpired in the next hour or so.
“Come here, Madalena,” she ordered, working to make her voice calm and imperious. The woman did as asked and knelt at the feet of her mistress, but not without throwing a fearful glance at the five assembled men behind her first.
“Madalena...” Ayla leant forward and made herself say it: “Madalena, by the laws of God and the Empire, your husband must die. He has committed treason, the most terrible of all the crimes on God's earth, and must pay for it with his life. I have no choice but to put my seal on the order for his execution.”
Those were exactly the words the woman had been fearing. She slumped down on the floor. Clutching at the hem of Ayla's dress, she started sobbing.
“No! Please, Milady, think of our children! What will they do without a father? Please, don’t have him killed! Take me! Take me instead! Please, I beg you, spare my husband!”
Ayla almost gave in, told her that her husband wouldn’t die, in fact that he couldn't die if they were all to have a chance at survival. But she knew she couldn't do that. Reuben had drilled it into her, over and over, she had to make the woman see the sword hanging over her husband's head. It was no joke, no light matter, the crime of treason. Ever since Judas had sold Jesus for thirty pieces of silver, Christians throughout the land regarded this as the most serious of crimes, more serious even than murder.
Under normal circumstances there was no way one could escape the punishment.
Under normal circumstances…
“Please, Milady,” the woman begged again. “Please! Can't you do anything to save his live? Anything?”
“It was your husband,” Reuben said, harshly, “who let the men into the castle who tried to abduct Lady Ayla and nearly slit her throat in the process. Why should she show any mercy for him?”
“I know,” Madalena whimpered. “I know, but...”
“Tell me, woman, did you know of his plot? The truth now, or things will go very badly for you!”
“No! I knew something was on his mind, but this…! He was so strange lately, absent minded and cold... I thought he was just worried about how the siege was going, but I never would have thought that... that he...”
Reuben leaned down to her until the growl of his voice was right next to the weeping woman’s ear. “And how is the siege going?”
“W-what?”
“How is the siege going? What do you think?”
Startled, the woman looked up. Her tearful eyes flickered from one stone-faced man to another, finally looking down at the floor again.
“I... I think that the siege is going very well,” she babbled. “Our brave warriors are doing a wonderful job defending us. It is strange that my husband should dare to defy your authority, Milady, while you are so obviously soon to triumph over your enemies, and gain a complete victory over...”
“Horse shit!”
“What?” Startled, the woman looked up at the knight.
“I said,” he repeated, “that is horse shit! We are about to be overrun. We barely survived the last attack. The enemy has ten times as many soldiers as we do, they are better rested and better equipped. Your Husbands decision to betray his liege-lady may have been many things—despicable, immoral, cowardly—but it certainly was not strange. In fact it was the normal thing to do. Because for those of us who are steadfast and stand by our oaths, it looks like we're all going to die!”
Madalena didn't reply anymore. All she could do was lie on the floor and cry. The sight pierced Ayla's heart. To heck with Reuben's preachings about the fine art of maneuvering and manipulating people! She was not going to let that poor woman suffer any longer. She would end this now!
Carefully, she took hold of the woman's shivering hands and pulled her up into a kneeling position.
“What Sir Reuben says is true enough.” Her voice was gentle now, gentle and warm. “But... What if there were some way to avoid death? Not just for me and him and you, I mean. What if there were a way for your husband to redeem himself, and live?”
Madalena's hand contracted convulsively around Ayla's fingers. “Milady? Milady, are you in earnest?”
“In complete earnest,” Ayla responded, her face showing no trace of bad humor or deception. “There is a way by which your husband can regain his honor. Nobody but five or six guards so far knows of his betrayal. They can be sworn to secrecy. I will not divulge anything, and neither will these men here. Your husband can walk through the castle again, his head held high. He can watch his children grow up, and they can be proud of him as children should of a father. We can all be saved, and the army of the Margrave will be gone forever.”
“What is it?” The woman demanded, breathless. “What is this miraculous way? Oh, Milady, he will do anything, I swear it! If he can regain his and his family’s honor, he will do anything!”
Ayla pressed her hands, looking deep into her eyes.
“Really?” She lifted an enquiring eyebrow. “Anything?”
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Merry Christmas, Milords and Ladies,
I hope you enjoyed my Christmas Chapter? The first Christmas Carols were sung in the eleventh century, so technically, I could have Sir Reuben sing one, but I don't really think he's the type, do you? Not unless you know any Christmas Carols in which Satan's hairy ass figures prominently... ;-)
By the way, do you remember the surprise I mentioned last time? There's another additional Christmas chapter coming in a few days, as a special present! :)
Your Medieval author (packing Christmas presents)
Sir Rob
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GLOSSARY:
Thule: A Mythical Island the location of which nobody knew. Authors from the Roman historian Tacitus to the German dramatist Johann Wolfgang von Goethe used it in their works, yet could never agree on a location. Suffice it to say that it is very, very far away from Ayla’s home.
Codpiece: A medieval piece of underclothing that covered a man’s family jewels. Calling someone a puny codpiece was thus not exactly a compliment. But then, since it’s Reuben saying it, you, my esteemed readers, have probably already guessed that much.