Page 115 of The Robber Knight's Love
“Soldier!”
“Sorry, Milady.”
They approached the bridge in a whirlwind offlying dirt and water. Down in the valley, near the river, theground was wet during the night, and Ayla was splattered with mudby the time she brought her horse to a halt in front of thebridge.
Mud, shethought.Soon it will be blood. No play. Realblood.
The bridge was alight with flames. Open fireshad been lit behind the barricade, illuminating the ladder leadingup to the walkway and the grim faces of the soldiers at the top,waiting, their weapons at the ready. Only the enemy was nowhere insight.
Frowning, Ayla slid off her horse andapproached Captain Linhart, who was standing at the very edge ofthe bridge, leaning over the railing to see around thebarricade.
“Captain, what is the matter? The alarm wassounded, but I see nothing of Sir Luca or his army.”
“That's because they approached in darkness,”he said grimly. “Trying to catch us off guard, I suppose. We canthank the Lord that our scouts have sharp ears and caught theirapproach.”
Ayla looked out over the water, on whichstrange, hellish reflections danced in the red torch light. Thelight lasted only for a few feet all around the bridge. Beyond thatwas only darkness. God alone knew what horrors it held.
She threw an anxious glance over hershoulder. Somewhere on the path down from Luntberg Castle, shecould see torches moving. Those must be their reinforcements. Butin the dark, she couldn't measure the distance.
Slowly, she returned her eyes to theblackness across the river.
“You mean to say that they're out there?Right now?”
“Oh yes,” the captain affirmed. “I imaginethey'll drop the pretense soon enough. We've made it pretty obviousthat we know they're here.”
As if in response to his words, flames beganto light up everywhere on the opposite bank. Ayla trembled at thesight. Flames, which only a few days ago had saved them fromdestruction, were now heralding their doom.
“There are so many,” she whispered.
“Aye,” the captain agreed. “If every sergeantis carrying one, I'll guess at least three hundred men.”
“Three hundred? That's not the full...”
Ayla's voice cut off as, suddenly, moreflames appeared on the opposite bank. And more. And more. The landseemed to be awash with them.
Beside her, she heard Linhart draw in a sharpbreath. “God's teeth!”
And for once in her life, she couldn't findit in herself to rebuke a man for cursing. Her chest tightened asshe watched hundreds upon hundreds of blades, glinting wickedly inthe torchlight, being drawn and raised towards the sky in a bloodypromise.
“Rally!” she yelled, panic welling up insideher. “All rally to me! Defend the bridge!”
And the enemy charged.
*~*~**~*~*
The tent in which Ayla had worked during thelast battle was still up, and she dearly wished she could use it.But there was little enough light under the open sky, let alone inan enclosed space where no torches could be lit for fear ofsuffocation. So she had to operate in the open, and the men shecared for had to watch their comrades fight and die while theyfought for their own lives.
Ayla did her best not to look towards thebarricade. She was needed. She had a job to do, and couldn't afforddistractions. Yet every now and again, she couldn't help it. Hereyes flitted up towards the merciless waves of attackers poundingagainst the barricade. Every time their numbers seemed to belarger, every time the defenders seemed more tired and...
“Aaaarr!”
Terrified, Ayla looked down again at thesoldier lying in front of her. Had she done something wrong?Brought him pain because of her distraction? No, she hadn't eventouched him yet. Grimacing, the soldier pointed to his leg, whereseveral pieces of mail had been driven into the flesh by the savageblow of some blunt weapon. Suppressing the urge to look away fromthe gruesome sight, Ayla handed the soldier a piece of hardenedleather.
“Here. Bite down on this, so you won't biteyour tongue off while I attend to your leg.”
He put the piece of leather between histeeth, then looked at her and nodded.
Picking up a pair of pincers, Ayla proceededto pull out the metal links one by one. It was no easy task: thepieces were meshed together by the force of the blow and thesoldier kept jerking and twitching, moans escaping his throat againand again. Ayla's heart constricted every time she heard his pain,but she steeled herself and went on. No time for crying now. Later,when this was all over.
