Page 53 of The Robber Knight
All right, this was because he had neveractually been beholden to anyone, but still! He didn't feelcomfortable taking her possessions. A rough laugh escaped histhroat. He still had some of those...thingsleft? What were they called again?Principles?
“Satan's hairy ass,” he cursed and stormedover to the chest where he had stored his half-eaten black puddingand chicken. She probably wouldn't want those in their currentstate anyway, so he might as well take them.
With his meager supplies stuffed into hispockets, he thrust open the door and ran down the empty corridor,eager to escape this place before the army arrived—or before he sawthe girl again and changed his mind about leaving.
The floor here in the corridor was even moreuneven than in his room. Damn, was it hard to stay on one's feet!The floor actually seemed to wobble. More and more sweat ran downhis forehead, and the stone corridor before him came in and out offocus. What was the matter with him? He had braved entire armies byhimself, surely it would be within his powers to walk ten moresteps to the staircase? And from there it would be easy. Down. Justdown and out and away.
He reached the staircase, though he had tosteady himself against the wall to manage it. Carefully, he raiseda foot and tried to find the first stair. He felt curiouslylight-headed, not at all like himself. Well, from now on, it wouldbe easy. Down. Just down.
His foot came down. Missing the stair, itslipped from under him, and he fell. Or maybe flew?
Down.
Just down.
Into darkness.
FlyingDeath
Ayla rode as if the devil were at her heels. Halfwayto the bridge she met Burchard, who was running the other way.
When he caught sight of her, he skidded to ahalt and his mustache bristled. “What are you doing here?” heyelled at her.
“Riding!” she yelled back, withoutstopping.
“Get the hell back to the castle! You'renot...”
The rest Ayla didn't hear. It was drowned outby the thunderous pounding of her horse's hoofs. Her ride was noEleanor, but he was quick enough. After only a few minutes, she hadreached her goal and slid off the horse's back to storm towards thebridge, waving with her arms to attract the men's attention. To saythat Isenbard didn't look pleased to see her would have been theunderstatement of the century.
“Back!” he growled, pointing to thecastle.
“No.” She shook her head. “I came to warnyou. There are riders approaching.”
“Already?” Isenbard didn't curse. He was atrue knight and never a foul word came over his lips. But theexpression on his hard face spoke volumes. “I had hoped for them totake at least another day!”
“I saw them from the castle and came to warnyou.”
“I should have stationed a lookout there,” hemumbled to himself. Then he pointed at the castle again. “Well, nowyou've warned us, you can go back.”
“No.”
“This is no place for a girl, Ayla. And Ineed you to go back to alert my men at the castle. We need themdown here as quickly as possible.”
She met his eyes without flinching. Behindher, a horn sounded. “I have already alerted your men. They aremarching here as we speak. I have also posted a lookout on thehighest tower of the castle. And where do you think my place wouldbe, Sir Isenbard, if not here with my people?”
He held her gaze for a second or two—then henodded. “Stay behind the barricade. Don't alert the enemy to yourpresence.”
She just nodded, knowing that it was uselessto argue further. He was probably only letting her stay because hehad no time to drag her back to the castle himself, and none of thevillagers would dare manhandle her, even with an enraged SirIsenbard glaring at them.
Anxiously, she looked toward the castle,watching out for Sir Isenbard's men. The enemy riders hadn't beenvery numerous, but still, would twenty warriors be enough to repelthem? Without the barricade finished?
“Were they knights?”
Startled, she looked around. Isenbard wasstanding there like a pillar of stone, staring in the samedirection as she did.
“Who?”
“The riders. Were they knights?”
