51. Prisoner of Battle

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"I can't see a sword anywhere in here, can you?" Ayla sked, scanning the gloomy tower room with her eyes. From outside she heard the rising sounds of battle. Her heart was beating fast, and she was itching to get out back there, back to Reuben. Why did the fool have to forget his spare sword?

"No, Milady," Theoderich confirmed, turning around, a frown on his face. "I can't see it either."

"Maybe in here?"

Walking over to far wall, Ayla opened a chest, the only piece of furniture in the bare stone room apart from the torch burning in a bracket on the wall. But the chest didn't hold a single weapon, unless you counted the various surgical implements stacked in orderly rows beside a supply of bandages, and herbs.

"What..." Ayla mumbled. "Wait just a minute! Those are my own herbs and bandages! How on earth did they get here..." Her voice trailed off, and she righted herself abruptly. Just as she turned, the click came from the door that announced the lock being turned.

"The blaggard!" Ayla growled. She was over at the door in three long strides, and punched the thick oak wood—without any effect. "He did this on purpose! I know he did!"

"Um... did what?" the uncertain voice of Theoderich asked from behind her.

Whirling around, she faced the squire, and gestured at the round room.

"Sending us in here, of course! Chosing this tower as command center!"

Confused, Theoderich looked around at the walls. "Why shouldn't he have chosen this as his command center? The north tower is the largest tower of the castle, with an excellent view of the valley."

"It's also the only tower which is large enough to not just consist out of a spiral staircase with walls around! It's the only tower with a room at the top, and walls that are two yards thick!" Once more she thumped the thick oak door. "Let me out, damn you!"

"Sorry, Milady," came Reuben's voice from outside. He didn't sound sorry at all. "I'm a bit busy out here. I've got a battle to fight."

"Then let me out! Let me help you!"

"Sorry again. I can't do that. The enemy is almost at the wall. Soon enough, they'll be up here, and all hell will break loose."

He was right. She could hear the roars and trampling feet of hundreds of foes, mingled with the zitt zitt of flying crossbow bolts. Yes, the enemy was coming. But by God, that didn't mean she would sit safely inside and listen while here people were slaughtered!

"If hell breaks loose, I'll face it with you!" she called through the door, sounding a good deal braver than she felt.

"No you won't," the blaggard outside informed her, calmly. "The door is firmly locked and bolted from the outside. And it's no use trying to get down the tower staircase. I had some of the guards bolt the door down below, too."

With a few choice words, Ayla informed him what she thought of his behavior, his character, and the general state of his intestines.

"Quite impressive," he congratulated when she was finished. "You're getting a lot better at this."

"You fobbing, elf-skinned flap-dragon!"

"Now, now. I thought it was you who told me that it wasn't proper for a women to bare arms and take part in a battle."

"It isn't! That doesn't mean I was planning to leave your side! I was going to stand by you!"

"To do what, exactly?"

"To... to... well..." For a moment, Ayla searched for words. To be honest, she didn't know exactly why she had to stay. She only knew she couldn't leave his side. Not ever. Not now, in particular. "To offer moral support?"

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