Page 106 of The Robber Knight
Ayla's eyes widened, and she could feel herbreathing quickening. No! She couldn't have another breakdown! Nothere! Not now! Not when she knew perfectly well that she wouldthrow herself into his arms again as soon as her tears started toflow.
“I... I think that's not a good idea rightnow. I should change your bandages. They haven't been changed in along time, and they should be, regularly.”
“Ayla, it's important that I knowwhat...”
“Reuben. Please, let me change your bandagesnow. We'll talk later, all right?”
For a moment, Reuben's gray eyes weresearching her face. Perhaps they saw something of her chaoticfeelings there, because he reached up and stroked her hair. Justonce, lightly, with the back of his hand.
“All right, all right.” Reuben capitulatedwith a wave of his hand. “You can mollycoddle me all you want. Butbefore you start...” He fixed her with an earnest, probing gaze.“There's just one thing I'd like to ask you. Something veryimportant.”
Ayla's heart almost jumped out of her chestwith delicious anticipation. The way he was staring at her, sointently... She could swear he wasn't talking about the battleanymore.
“Yes,” she whispered.
“Well, could you explain to me why you werecrying about killing your enemies, earlier? I didn't quite get itthe first time.”
*~*~**~*~*
Ayla tried. She really tried to explain it tohim. But it was like trying to explain knitting to a flock ofsheep. He didn't understand. After changing Reuben's bandages,telling him off for being callous three times, and hugging him fourtimes more, Ayla gathered her things together and left. She plannedto return later in the day to see how Isenbard was doing, butfirst, she needed to look after her other duties as the mistress ofLuntberg, and then she needed to look after herself. Threeharrowing horse rides and commanding a battle had taken a lot outof her. She needed to eat and to sleep, badly.
Only when she was already down the corridorfrom Reuben's room did Ayla remember that she had wanted to grillReuben about his extraordinary military knowledge, and had quiteforgotten it. Darn those distractingly hypnotic gray eyes ofhis!
To Kill or Not toKill
Ayla didn't have the energy to return to Reuben anddemand the answers to her questions. After she had left him, shesuddenly felt bone-crushingly tired. The battle had taken its tollon her: she hardly managed to return to her chambers and cross theroom to the bed before she collapsed and the darkness claimedher.
Although she’d had a good night's sleep thenight before the battle, she slept for a full five hours. Not eventhoughts of Reuben could keep her awake, though a certain devilishsmile never left her alone in her dreams. She wasn't even asembarrassed about that fact when she woke up as she ordinarilymight have been. Imagining what bloody specters might have plaguedher dreams instead, she was really rather grateful.
She yawned and stretched, enjoying the warmthof the bed for just one moment more. But she knew she had to getup. Looking out of the window, she saw that the sun was nearing thehorizon. It was time for dinner. She had a duty to perform.
For the first time in many days, she got upand went to the main hall to eat. She had preferred to eat in herchambers lately, which afforded her the privacy to think about hertroubles undisturbed and meant she didn't have to put on a mask ofconfidence. But after the battle, she felt her responsibilitystronger than before. Who was to give confidence to the people ofLuntberg if not she, the mistress of the castle?
A hush fell over the assembled crowd as sheentered the main hall. Dinner had just been served, and everybodywas about to start eating. When they saw her, spoons and knivesstopped in mid-air, and all eyes went to her.
Suddenly, a sense of significance overcameAyla. Her eyes went to her father's high-backed chair, the lord'schair, in the center of the room. Then they strayed to the smallerchair beside it, which she usually sat in during mealtimes,although her father never sat beside her. It had seemed wrong toappropriate her father's place. There had never been a need to, andeven if there had been, she didn't feel ready.
Now though...
Her gaze met Burchard's. The old steward satone table further down from the raised platform of the lord'stable, and was studying her more intently than anyone else in thehall. His face gave nothing away. Most of it was hidden, as usual,behind that giant bushy mustache and those eyebrows of his.
Ayla raised her chin a tiny little bit andmarched over to the lord's table. Climbing onto the raisedplatform, she went directly to the lord's chair and sat down.
Everyone let out a breath they hadn'trealized they'd been holding. Ayla knocked on the table with aknife.
“Everybody, please start eating, don't waitfor me. I'm sure you all have a lot of work to do to ensure ourcontinued safety, and I wouldn't want to keep you here because ofcourtly manners. They won't keep us alive.”
Ayla chanced a look at her steward.Burchard's face was still impassive. But Ayla thought his mustachelooked more relaxed—perhaps even a bit proud of her.
“Burchard?” She waved him over. “Please comehere, sit next to me. We have a few matters to discuss.”
Rising, he made an unusually deep bow andsaid: “As you command, Milady.”
She knew his words to be no empty show.
As he came to sit next to her, servants camescurrying to the table with platters of bread and bowls ofporridge—people who she had known only casually all her life andwho now treated her with an extraordinary mix of love anddeference. A mix she hadn't witnessed for years—not since herfather had been well. They had treated him exactly like that.
Part of her ached for replacing him, butanother part knew that she wasn't replacing him. She was taking uphis standard. That, and the respect of her people, made her feelwarm inside. It also made her feel a bit queasy.
