The Robber Knight's Secret

20. The Helpfulness of Enemies

Ayla stopped on the way to dunk her head into a barrel of water. She knew she would have to address her people, and it wouldn't be a good thing if her people couldn't recognize her because her face was covered in mud, sprayed up by an enemy projectile. By the time she arrived at the keep, Dilli and Captain Linhart had been busy: nearly everyone was already assembled, with more women and children streaming in from every direction.

As soon as they spotted her, a storm broke loose.

"Milady! What was that noise?"

"Did you feel the earth shake? Milady, what—"

"The Lord's wrath has come down upon us! Milady, we must pray—"

Hands reached out to grab at her dress, her hands, anything they could reach, searching for reassurance. Ayla tried to evade them, climbing up the keep stairs to stand above the heads of the crowd, but they rushed after her.

"Milady, what..."

"...the wrath of God, Milady. The wrath of God!"

"Please!" She raised her hands, trying to ward the people off. They were pushing her farther and farther up the stairs, making her stumble backwards. "Please, I have to speak to you. I—"

She didn't know whether she could have managed to silence them on her own. In any case, it didn't matter, because a second later a gigantic black shape hurtled over their heads, disappearing beyond the wall. From somewhere in the outer castle they heard an earth-shaking thud, as if a giant had slammed his foot down. The ground under their feet shook, and the words of the villagers died on their lips. Some screamed, others dived to the ground, covering their heads with their hands. None dared to utter so much as a word anymore.

"That," Ayla spoke into the quiet night, pointing up at the sky where they had seen the boulder fly past, "is not the wrath of God. It is the wrath of the Margrave. He has built a hellish machine that serves one purpose, and only one: to smash the walls of this castle to rubble and grind us all to dust!"

A ripple of fear went through the women and children.

"Are we doomed then, Milady?"

The question came from an old woman and the edge of the crowd, bent almost double by the weight of age. She was one of the few who hadn't thrown themselves on the ground. Her words were spoken so calmly that you might almost think she didn't fear the approaching death, because the grim reaper was already coming for her—until you saw her hand, tightly clutched around that of a little girl at her side. She feared death all right, just maybe not her own.

Were they doomed? Ayla had asked herself that very question ever since she had found out what was out there in the night. Were they?

"No!" The words came out of her mouth, spoken with her voice—and they sounded so true. "As I speak, Sir Reuben, the victor of our last battle against Falkenstein, is making his way into the enemy camp to destroy that evil machine. He will break the thing like a twig and make the Margrave wish he had never been born!"

Heaven, what am I saying? Where does this confidence come from? Reuben might already be dead! How can I be so sure that he's still alive and that he will save us?

An image flashed in front of her inner eye—not an imaginary image of Reuben's death this time, but the way his eyes had burned when he had last held her in his arms. A man who looked like that didn't die. He might kill everybody else, but he himself would survive, and would return victorious.

Please. Please let that be true.

"We must only hold out," she told her people, her voice steady, "and we shall be saved. I promise you on my honor as the Lady of Luntberg."