Page 46 of The Robber Knight
Reuben just shook his head. “I don't have anyproblems. And I already have a bandage, I don't need anotherone.”
“No problems? When you mention Isenbard, yourvoice sounds like you've been force-fed vinegar. And one mustchange bandages regularly. If one doesn't, or moves about too muchor gets them dirty, the wounds will fester and you'll getfever.”
Reuben muttered something unintelligible.Ayla only caught Isenbard's name among some muttered words thatdidn't sound very polite.
“What did you say?” she demanded.
“I just think he's too old!” Reuben growled.“That's all.”
Deeply offended, Ayla put her hands on herhips. This was her father's friend he was talking about! Her UncleIronbeard!
“What do you mean, too old? He can't helpaging, now, can he? And he's in amazingly good condition for hisage.”
“You think so, do you?” he asked, mockingly,then added: “Well of course you do, or you wouldn't be doing whatyou're about to do.”
Ayla stared down at her hands. “What I amabout to do? What has any of this got to do with me changing yourbandages?”
“I wasn't talking about the bandages.”
Ayla was getting confused. What was thematter with him? She had to find out. “Well then, what were youtalking about?”
There were a few moments of silence.
“Forget it,” he said, his voice cool now.
Ayla stared at him angrily. So he wanted toannoy her, did he? Well, two could play at that game.
*~*~**~*~*
Reuben could almost feel her anger boiling.He was amazed at the show she put on. Seeing her infuriated likethat, he could almost believe that she genuinely cared for thatgray-bearded pervert. Yuck! That would be even worse than herintending to marry him for his lands or money.
“By the way,” she said sweetly, “I wanted toask you how you liked your supper yesterday. I hope you like fennelsoup?”
He couldn't help grinning. So, it was timefor her revenge, was it?We'll see aboutthat, he thought to himself.
“I liked it very much. Please send mycompliments to your cook,” he replied uber-politely.
Her mouth dropped open and formed a tinylittle “O.” It looked very cute, and his grin widened at the sight.Quickly though, she regained her composure. Her eyes narrowed andshe said: “Good, very good. So you won't have any objections toeating nothing else for the rest of the week? It'll do you a worldof good, believe me.”
“No, that's fine. It is really an excellentsoup. Thank you so much for your concern about my diet,Milady.”
“It's my pleasure,” she said, probablytruthfully. He had to work hard not to chuckle.
“And there's something I wanted to ask you,”he added.
“Yes?”
“Have you made a decision about mycompensation yet?”
She gasped, and again he had to suppress achuckle. In a voice that sounded endearing in her attempt to beintimidating, she said: “Not quite. Though I thought maybe I couldgive you a pot of fennel soup, since you like it so much.”
He let his face assume a sad expression.“Alas, Milady, that will not be possible. You see, I am a merchantand will have to sell it to buy me new wares to trade with. Andwhile I know that your fennel soup is excellent, the people on thenearest market might not share that opinion. They might even thinkit tastes like overcooked horse manure.”
He had expected her to be angry, or to makesome sarcastic remark, or something along those lines. Her actualresponse took him completely by surprise.
She laughed.
It was a wonderful sound, like the music of aharp—so wonderful that he found himself joining in. They laughedand laughed, and then their eyes met, and suddenly they were bothsilent. There was a moment where they just stared into each other'seyes. Reuben drank in the sapphire-blue and thought of nothingelse: not of his life being in danger, not of the fact that she washis enemy and captor, not of the pains of his past.
