Page 48 of The Robber Knight
Overcoming her apprehension, Ayla looked athis wounds again. Were they swollen? It was hard to tell.Innumerable bands of muscle bulged everywhere on Reuben's back,swelling him in an absolutely natural and, admittedly, even quiteattractive way.
“Reuben?”
“Yes?”
“I'm going to touch your back now. I have toexamine something. It will hurt a lot, but please hold still.”
“That won't be a problem,” he said. His voicestill sounded gruff with anger, but why was there also a trace ofamusement in it? Ayla would dearly liked to have known. She herselfcouldn't see anything funny about the situation.
Very, very carefully, she reached out andtouched the red spot on Reuben's back, conscious of the fact thatat any moment he would cry out and flinch away.
He did nothing of the sort. Instead, he tooka deep breath, and his breathing slowed. What was the matter withthis man?
As soon as she had felt the unhealthy bulgeunder the red skin, she could answer at least part of thisquestion. Yes, there was a swelling. But that was only anindication, she reminded herself. It didn't necessarily mean thewounds were getting infected.
“I'm going to have to wash this,” she saidand rose to her feet. “Don't move while I get some water and freshcloth.”
*~*~**~*~*
Reuben just lay there, thinking, while Aylaworked over him for almost an hour. He didn't really know or caredwhat she did. The wounds didn't bother him, they would heal soonenough, and then he would be out of here, away from her.
She had looked so radiant when she had comeinto the room earlier, so utterly happy. She must be a damn goodactress to appear happy because of that stone-faced old creep. Hehad almost, almost believed that she was really looking forward tomarrying that fellow—until her cheeks had reddened when she hadtouched his face.
That blush had sent a tumult of emotionstumbling around in his chest. So many, so various, that he didn'tknow which to name first. The strongest, however, was one he wasn'table to identify at all. A tugging sensation near his heart. It wasalmost as though his heart was hurting. But that was ridiculous, ofcourse! Nothing could ever hurthim, least of all such a soft, slendercreature.
Best you rememberthat, he told himself.And rememberwhat kind of a gross witch she is. He wasn't all thatkeen on morals himself, but to freely admit she had been busy withher future husbandand herfather...
God inheaven, he thought.At least thelast woman I fell for pretended to be honorable and kind. Thislittle monster in an angel's guise freely admits to debauchery andbloodthirst, and still I can't help thinking about her. She reallymust have put a spell on me. The quicker I get out of here, thebetter!
The Enemy
Tired but satisfied, Ayla left Reuben's quarters anhour later. She was fairly sure she had prevented any festering.Just before she left, she had drilled it into him again to move aslittle as possible. But she knew he wouldn't be able to anyway. Anymovement would still cause enough pain to have him writhing on thefloor. He would have to stay where he was, and he would getbetter.
The question was: Why did that knowledge fillher with such overwhelming relief?
Shaking her head, she pushed Reuben to theback of her mind, where he belonged. Crossing the entry hall, shestepped out of the keep and saw Isenbard already waiting at thegates of the inner wall ring, his stallion beside him.
He nodded to her and pointed down towards thebridge, raising an eyebrow a fraction of an inch. This had alwaysbeen his way: never waste a word you might need later.
“Yes, we're going,” she said.
He climbed his horse. Ayla didn't waste timecalling for another horse to be saddled. She felt too sad about theloss of Eleanor to be riding herself anyway. “Could you give me alift, Uncle?”
He held out a gauntleted hand. She took itand swung herself into the saddle in front of him. He spurred hishorse and they galloped out of the gate and down the mountain path.Ayla held on tightly to the arms clasped around her waist so as notto fall off the gigantic animal. She wasn't used to riding a horsethis big and powerful.
“Are your men settled in?” she asked,breathlessly.
“Yes.”
“And Burchard told you everything?”
“Everything about the feud, Milady.”
You always had to listen very closely toIsenbard. There was always more to his short sentences than wasapparent at first.
“So what didn't he tell you?”
“He wasn't very specific about this robberknight, Milady.”
