The Robber Knight's Secret

13. Honor among Enemies

When Gregor glanced at the open dungeon door, he saw that it wasn't a knight who stood in the doorway this time, or a soldier, even an angel. It was a young girl, slim, dressed with simple elegance in a white linen dress, her long blond hair flowing down over her shoulders like the halo of cherubim.

What in God's name was a sweet girl like that doing in a place like this? Gregor hoped with all his heart that she hadn't spotted the torture instruments all around, or at least that she didn't realize the grim significance of the metal implements.

Go! He thought, projecting his words at the girl with all the force of his mind, praying his silent plea would somehow reach her. Run, before this monster of a red knight sees you! If he catches a glimpse of you—

Too late.

Slowly, the red knight turned around, the red hot tongs still firmly in his right hand. With his left, he pulled his helmet off and Gregor asked himself why he had bothered to keep it on before. If it had been for the purpose of intimidating his prisoners, he need not have bothered. The face that appeared from underneath the helmet—strong chin, wild, fiery grey eyes and a tangle of hair as black as the devil's heart—was scarier than the helmet itself. Gregor supposed that to ladies it might be a very handsome face, but to him, who had seen his share of battles and the men who fought them, it was the face of a killer who had thrown away his honor and sold his mercy to the highest bidder.

Gregor didn't know who the girl in the doorway was, but he didn't think she had very long to live in one room with this man, to judge by the fiery glare he directed at her. Desperately, Gregor tried to pull his hands free of the chains that bound them, but it was no use! He was imprisoned! And now this poor, helpless girl would feel the red knight's wrath instead of him!

The girl's mouth opened, probably preparing for her last scream.

It didn't come.

Instead, she took a confident step into the room, and raised a hand, pointing threateningly at the red hot tongs.

"What in the name of the apostles do you think you're doing, Reuben Rachwild?" the girl demanded, sounding not the least bit afraid. "Put that away! Now!"

Gregor's mouth dropped open.

"What, this?" The red knight's voice was deep and rough. But even though it was one of the manliest voices Gregort had ever heard, he somehow managed to sound like a schoolboy. The red knight glanced down at the glowing tongs in his fist, rather like a puppy who had been caught playing with a forbidden toy. "It's not as bad as it looks, really."

"It's a pair of red-hot iron tongs! How much worse can torturing people get?"

"Well, there's the rack, that's quite nasty, and the brazen bull, which in my opinion—"

"That was a rhetorical question! Put it away, Reuben. Now!"

The red knight sighed, and Gregor watched with growing amazement as he strode over to the bowl of glowing coals and deposited the tongs among the embers.

"Now are you happy?" he demanded.

"Not," the girl snapped, pointing to first Gregor, than Blasius, "until you explain to me why two knights are dangling from my dungeon ceiling like wet trousers from a washing line!"

"I wasn't going to hack any of their limbs of or something like that, if that's what you're afraid of," the red knight, whose name apparently was Reuben, grumbled. "I only wanted to scare them a little."

"Of course. That's why you had almost stuck those red hot tongs up his nose when I arrived," the girl retorted, pointing to Gregor.

"I haven't even touched him yet! I swear I was just going to ask them some questions. Now will you please leave and let me do my work in peace? This is no place for a lady."