The Robber Knight's Love

63. The Enemy's Postmortem Gift

They arrived at the open gates of the camp to find a sergeant of what used to be Isenbard's men waiting beside a large pile of metal objects.

"Greetings, Milady, Sir Reuben." The sergeant bowed deeply.

"Greetings, sergeant," Ayla replied. Everything inside her yearned to ride on, to leave this unimportant trinkets behind and search for what she really wanted, for what she prayed was inside the camp. But she knew she couldn't do that. She couldn't start a panic by acting strangely, and she had to keep a cool head. Pointing to the jumbled pile, she inquired: "What is this?"

"All metal that isn't weapons or armor that we found in the camp, Milady-some oil lamps and candlesticks, a lot of pots and spits, and some other odds and ends." He pointed to another pile. "Those are other small things: clay jars, clay plates, horns. I've brought them out here for one of the servants to inspect. Maybe we can use some of it in the castle."

"I have a better idea," Ayla said. "Bring all of it up to the castle, and have it looked through by the villagers. I'm sure they'll recognize much of it."

The sergeant's eyes widened. "You mean that..."

Ayla nodded, a feeling both sad and happy at the same time. But most of all, impatient to get on. "Yes. A lot of it will probably turn out to be loot from the village. See to it that everything is returned to its rightful owner. That which has no rightful owner, I order you to distribute fairly among those who have lost the most. In this, I trust your judgment, sergeant."

"Yes, Milady! I will not fail you, Milady!"

"See that you don't," Reuben growled. "I, for my part, most certainly don't trust your judgment, and will be around to check."

"Reuben!" Ayla jabbed her elbow into Reuben's ribs. He merely smiled at her in return.

The sergeant seemed to be able to hold his ground, though. He paled a little, but met Reuben's eyes. Ayla saw a little of Isenbard in those steadfast eyes. "Yessir!"

"Do you know where the rest of the things are kept?" Ayla wanted to know, eager to get away from the subject of violent threats.

"Yes, Milady! Inside the camp. We didn't want to unpack or move the food so it won't get spoiled."

"Very wise. Until later, sergeant."

The two of them spurred their horses on and rode into the camp at a brisk pace.

"Why do you always do that?" hissed Ayla as soon as the man was out of hearing range.

"Do what?"

"Set people on edge like that."

He grinned at her as though she'd made him a compliment. "Do I set you on edge?"

"No! But every single soldier under my leadership."

"Well... for one thing, it's good for discipline. And for another, it's fun."

"You shouldn't misuse your authority for your own amusement!"

Leaning over, he quickly brushed his fingers along her  neck, and she felt a shiver shoot down all the way down her spine.

"Can you provide me with other kinds of amusement?" he whispered, with enough heat in his voice to make her faint and fall off her horse. But Eleanor was far too trusty a steed to let that happen.

"Don't worry." Reuben reached over and took her hand, caressing its back with his thumb. The motion sent tingles all the way up Ayla's arm. It was becoming hard to remember what they had been talking about. "Soldiers enjoy it when you handle them a bit roughly. I think those lads of yours are actually beginning to take a liking to me."