The Robber Knight's Love

18. Swordplay

Ayla had been in agony, terrified she would be taken to the Margrave, terrified she would become a slave to her worst enemy, terrified she would never see Reuben again—and then he dropped on her head. That had been quite the shock, to say the least.

Well, he hadn't actually dropped on her head. He had just dropped from God only knew where out of the sky, and ripped her from the clutches of that stinking monster.  For a moment, she had been in his arms and everything had been all right—and the next moment, he had the effrontery to squash her against a wall and call her a silly girl! She would have very much liked to stab him in that moment—if she hadn't been so terribly afraid for him.

And then...

Then it had all gotten a bit confusing. Mostly because she wasn't used to being tossed through the air like some jugglers ball. How dare he? How dare that villain treat a lady in this manner? She landed on something that said “Umpf!” and then suddenly was surrounded by armed men and couldn't see Reuben anymore.

Was he all right? Was he alive? Oh Lord, she prayed, her head still spinning like a spindle, Lord, please let him be alive! Please! He may be a villain, and a rogue, and a terrible sinner, but please let him live anyway!

Some of the soldiers around her rushed forward, and she heard a voice. His voice. He was alive!

“Back! This one is mine! Mine I say! Back with you!”

What was going on?

As the soldiers around her slowly retreated, she saw a sight that made the marrow freeze in her bones. Most of the mercenaries were lying dead on the ground—but one was still very much alive. With a gigantic sword in Hand, the beefy monster that had held his knife to her throat stood in the middle of the courtyard.

And directly opposite him stood Reuben. Totally alone.

Ayla's mouth went dry.

“No! Reuben, don't be a fool!”

She tried to rush forward, but Hands grasped her arms, holding her back. She yelled at them to let her go, that he was about to get hurt, and couldn't they see that she had to do something to prevent this, but the hands only tightened their grip.

“Reuben, don't do this,” she cried. “Not alone! Why do this alone?”

It was so stupid, so unnecessary, so... typically male! For heaven's sake, there were two dozen soldiers around! But instead of helping him, they were holding her back, to allow Reuben to go through with his grand heroic act! Didn't they have any brains in their helmeted heads?

In a swift motion, Reuben picked up one of the swords that were strewn among the corpses. It was by no means as large as the one the mercenary had in his hand. Another surge of fear rose up inside Ayla’s chest. She had never actually seen Reuben fight before. Well, she had, out of the corner of her eye seen him attack her abductors, but she was being forcibly dragged away at the time, with a knife held to her throat—not the best conditions for exact scrutiny.

Was Reuben actually any good at fighting?

But it was too late for such questions. In that moment, Reuben loosed a battlecry that shook the very foundations of the castle, and charged the mercenary head on. His first blow reassured Ayla on one point: Yes, Reuben could fight. Reuben could fight better than any knight she had ever seen.

The mercenary had hardly time enough to bring up the giant sword and deflect the first blow. Sparks ignited in the night as the two blades connected. With a gyrating movement, Reuben somehow took control of his enemy’s sword and swirled it into the opposite direction from that which the mercenary intended. The fat monster was still trying to regain control of his sword when Reuben rammed into him and catapulted him twenty feet or so through the air. With an unhealthy crash, the mercenary slammed onto the cobblestones.