Page 4 of The Robber Knight
Eleanor whinnied, leaning into Ayla'stouch.
Ayla laughed softly and hugged the marearound the neck. “Yes, I love you too. But we haven't got time forthat now.”
The mare regarded her with large,intelligent, brown eyes, seeming to ask why exactly they didn'thave time for a bit of tender loving care.
“We have to hurry. People are in danger, andwe have to help.” With a last pat on Eleanor's side, Ayla swungherself into the saddle. “Run my girl! Run!”
Shegently pressed her boots into the horse's sides. Eleanorunderstood. She had never needed more than a small indication toknow exactly what Ayla wanted. Her hoofs turning into a blur, shegalloped through the first set of castle gates and along the steeppath that snaked down the side of the mountain towards the largerouter gate with its iron portcullis.[10]
Luntberg Castle truly was an impressivebulwark. Built in Ayla's father's youth, when the land had stillbeen free of those accursed robber knights and a series of richharvests had filled her father's coffers with enough money for thisproject, it was a massive complex of impenetrable stone walls andhigh pinnacles. Two walls, the outer lower than the inner one,surrounded the central keep where Count Luntberg and his onlydaughter lived. Within the first courtyard, there were only themost essential buildings: the armory, the bakery, and a well thatled down deep into the mountain, supplying the castle with freshwater.
The second courtyard held a few morebuildings, but was essentially there for the purpose of keeping anyenemy forces far away from the central keep. Count Thomas vonLuntberg, in his youth a man of both foresight and vigor, had builtthis stronghold on the top of the mountain that bore his name toprovide a safe haven for himself and his family if ever there camea time when the clouds of war gathered on the horizon.
Now, it seemed, the castle walls were allthat stood between them and certain doom. Suddenly, they did notseem as impenetrable as Ayla had always thought them to be.
No, shechastised herself, slowing down her horse as she approached theouter gate.What about the village? Will I letthe people there be driven out of their homes? I will not act likea coward and retreat into my stronghold, leaving them to face theconsequences of my actions. I will meet our enemy headon!
She greeted the man on watch at the gate, whobowed in return.
“When I've gone,” she said, “close the gatebehind me and let the portcullis down. The time for open doors haspassed.”
He swallowed. “Then is it true what they aresaying, Milady? Has the Margrave declared a feud?”
“He has,” was her only answer. Then she urgedher horse out of the gate and down the mountain path towards thevalley.
*~*~**~*~*
When she reached the bridge, Burchard hadalready assembled a great number of men and horses. Stacks of woodwere piled against the stone bridge's railing.
Burchard greeted her with a bow. “Now are yougoing to tell me what all this wood is for?” he asked.
“Simple.” Ayla pointed over the massivebridge spanning the river in two graceful arches to the eastern,lower parts of the valley. “Beyond the bridge, there are onlyscattered farms. Falkenstein's land lies to the east, beyond theriver. The waters flow fast and strong; there are no othercrossings for dozens of miles in either direction.” She fixed hersteward with an iron stare. “We are going to head the Margrave vonFalkenstein off and erect our first line of defense here—at thebridge.”
“What?” Theold steward's eyes bulged. “You are intending to face him before hereaches the castle? Milady, when I urged you not to give up hope, Ididn't mean for you to give up your strongest defensive positioninstead! This is madness!”
“Is it madness to want to stop the Margravebefore he reaches the village?” she asked, looking around. All themen Burchard had gathered were watching intently. All men from thevillage.
“Your concern for your people is admirable,”Burchard managed to say through clenched teeth. “But...”
“No buts, Burchard.” She leaned closer andsaid under her breath so that no one else would hear: “I overheardmy father and Sir Isenbard talking once about what happens when anarmy moves through country where only peaceful peasants live. Theydo something called “foraging”, I believe. What does that wordmean, Burchard?”
“Milady, I never...”
“What does it mean,Burchard?”
Burchard took a deep breath. “It means thatthe soldiers range out up to sixty miles on either side of theirroute, pillaging, plundering, and killing at will. Commanders don'tprovide food for their soldiers, so the soldiers have to get itthemselves or starve. Soldiers don't like to starve.”
“I thought so.”
The steward hadn't given up yet, though.“That doesn't change the fact that your plan is insane! I mustrepeat that from a military standpoint...”
“Plus,” she added, fixing him with her clearblue eyes again, “we simply do not have the supplies to feedeveryone in the castle over a prolonged period of time. Cut offfrom any supply chains, there will be hunger. Disease will spreadwith so many people packed so closely together. Should our standhere fail, we can always retreat into Castle Luntberg or dosomething different. If we lock ourselves up in the castle, we willbe out of options. The Margrave will surround us, and all we can dois pray for a miracle. Do you want to risk that?”
Burchard growled somethingindistinguishable.
“And besides,” she said, “I kind of think Ishould at leasttryto protect mypeople.” She smiled at him. “Someone told me once that is what aliege lord is supposed to do.”
“Sometimes I wish you weren't so much likeyour father,” the old steward growled and gave her her favoritescowl.
