Page 84 of The Robber Knight
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Rushing out of the tent, Ayla saw the truthof Dilli's words. The giant monster of the Margrave's army wasretreating, the defenders still standing atop the barricade,sending volley after volley of arrows after their enemy. In theirmidst stood Isenbard, his helmet dented, but otherwise appearingunhurt.
When he saw Ayla, the old knight climbed downthe barricade and advanced towards her. She rushed to meet him andthrew her arms around him, armor and all.
“Uncle! You did it! You did it!”
“I'm aware of the fact. Now let go of me,girl! You'll ruin your dress.”
“Are you kidding? My dress is one singlebloodstain anyway.”
Isenbard tried to find a spot where he couldgrab her and push her away that wasn't unseemly for a knight totouch on a lady. “Well... then you'll ruin my armor.”
“Oh, if that's the case, of course I'll letgo of you.” Ayla grinned up at him. “But I was just saying thankyou.”
“You can refrain from such outbursts ofthankfulness in the future, Milady. I was merely doing myduty.”
“You,” she said, tapping on his armor, “didthe impossible. You drove away their army. How did you do it? Therewere so many!”
From what she could see of his face throughthe visor, he looked troubled, and very, very tired. “That's thething,” he murmured. “I didn't. I didn't drive them away. Theysuddenly retreated, just like that. I have no idea why.”
Frowning, Ayla let go of him. “But why wouldthey...?”
“Ayla, not now.”
Her frown deepened. His voice soundedstrange. “Uncle? What's the matter?”
“Let's go into the tent, where no one cansee,” he replied.
After a moment studying his face through thevisor, she led the way, and he followed. Dilli had left the tentagain and was probably somewhere either celebrating or rinsing hermouth. Two other young women were in the back of the tent, pilingblood-stained bandages into a washing basket. Isenbard gestured tothem wordlessly, and they scurried out.
“Isenbard?” Ayla asked, concerned. “What'sthe matter?”
The old knight didn't answer. He stood,stock-still, in the middle of the tent. No, not stock-still.Looking more closely, Ayla saw that he was swaying slightly.
“Close the tent flap, will you, girl?”
Ayla did as he wished.
“Are they all gone?” Isenbard asked.
“Yes.”
“And no one is in sight?”
“No, Uncle Ironbeard.” She stepped up to him,worry etched into her face. “Now will you tell me what is thematter?”
“You are absolutely sure that no one iswatching? None of the soldiers?”
“Yes!”
“Good,” he said.
And without uttering another sound, Isenbardcollapsed, crashing to the ground.
Brave Defender of the DirtPile
The proud, stupid old fool! In horror, Ayla staredat the big, gradually darkening bruise on the side of Isenbard'shead. How he had managed to keep himself upright at all with thatinjury was a complete mystery to her. Still more astonishingly, hehad managed to keep from falling unconscious through almost half ofthe battle. Ayla was sure that he had received that bruise from theblow to the head she had witnessed. And still he had fought on andon and on.
