Reuben watched Ayla in silence as they rode out of the castle gates. The beautiful valley of Luntberg lay beneath them: a velvet cloak of forest, slowly taking on the colors of autumn, wrapped around a beautiful river which glittered in the light of the sun. Reuben hardly saw any of it. His eyes were fixed on the girl that rode beside him.
He knew very well what she was going to ask. What he did not know was whether he was going to give her an answer.
For a moment, he closed his eyes, and it all came back in a storm of images: the cheering crowd, the rush of speed, the splinter of wood, the screams, the pain. Unimaginable pain. Once, just once, and then never again. He remembered getting up. He did not remember staggering through the dark, from where the dead were kept to where the living vultures were yelling, arguing over scraps. But he remembered their faces when he came in. Over all the years, this memory alone had given him satisfaction: the horror on their faces as they realized their mistake. Especially in her face. How the wench had paled at his sight! Ah, how joyful it had been after being betrayed, that he was now the terror of those who had forsaken him.
Now, though, that memory no longer gave him joy.
He opened his eyes and looked at Ayla again. What if she would look at him with the same expression of terror on her face? Well, that was unlikely. He knew her by now, and knew she wasn't likely to be terrified. If he told her the truth about himself, she wouldn’t run away screaming. She might call her soldiers and have him thrown into the dungeon or burnt at the stake, but she wouldn't run or scream.
And a lot of good it will do your smoldering remains, he thought sarcastically.
But then, hadn't she told him she loved him? Yes, she had. He didn’t know a lot about this thing called “love,” but usually, people who felt it for each other didn’t burn each other alive, right?
Maybe I should tell her. If she truly loves me…
But that much? Enough to ignore what he was? Enough to ignore what no god-fearing woman should ignore?
*~*~**~*~*
Reuben didn't ask what Ayla wanted to discuss with him as they rode down the path into the valley, and Ayla was incredibly grateful for it. She needed to gather her courage to say what she had to say. They rode in companionable silence, past the path to the village, past the enemy's camp, where they waved to the men at work dismantling everything, and into a sunlit meadow with a single apple tree at its edge.
Ayla cleared her throat. It felt as though it hadn't been used in a very long time.
“People drive their flock here often,” she remarked, reigning in her horse and looking over the meadow. “It's good grazing. I used to come here often as a child. I used to climb the apple tree over there, eat as many apples as I could, and feed the rest to the animals.”
“You? Climbing trees?” Reuben raised an eyebrow. “I'd like to have seen that. Especially from below, if you were wearing a skirt.”
Ayla felt one corner of her mouth lift. “I might have let you.”
“How unladylike of you.”
Ayla smiled. “I was quite wild when I was young. You know, with mother dead and father falling ill, Burchard really was mother and father for me.”
“And you just have to look at his giant mustache to know he is so motherly! He must have done a good job.”
Ayla's shoulder's shook. “Oh, do be quiet!”
“Did he ever put on an apron and try to teach you how to sew and spin wool?”
The mental image was too much for Ayla. She broke out in a fit of laughter.
“That's not fair!” she gasped. “I came out here to discuss something serious with you!”
“Too bad.” Grinning at her, Reuben slid out of the saddle. “Do you think he'll teach me how to sew? Sounds like a useful skill.”
“Reuben!”
He didn't stop grinning, but fell silent and let her catch her breath. When she could finally talk again, she said, “How about letting the horses run free? I've hated it, having to keep Eleanor cooped up in the castle.” Lovingly, she stroked the mare's side. “She could do with a bit of freedom.”
“And I'm sure Satan would appreciate it, too.” Reuben nodded and began unfastening the saddle straps. He pretended not to notice when Ayla scowled at him.
“Haven't you changed his name yet?”
“No.” He flashed his devilish grin up at her. “Never will, either.”
Ayla chose not to dignify that with a response. Instead, she slid out of the saddle and relieved Eleanor of her burden. Then she hugged her beloved mare around the neck, feeling warm inside.
“We're free again, my girl,” she whispered. “Do you hear me? Free. Go and have fun. There's a lot of fresh grass for you to nibble out there.”
Regarding her with large, black horse eyes, Eleanor gave Ayla's sleeve an affectionate nibble. Ayla laughed. “Yes, I know. You always prefer me to grass. But you have to be hungry, and I'm not very edible. Go, off with you! I'll watch you having fun.”
With a last whinny to her two-legged friend, the mare turned and galloped out onto the meadow. Ayla watched her with moisture in her eyes.
Beside her, Reuben was busy heaving the saddle off the back of the horse whose name Ayla refused to think about.
“There you go, Satan, you old crock!” He gave the horse a hefty slap on the rump. “Go and find something evil to do!”
The “old crock” promptly fulfilled his master's wishes by aiming a savage back hoof kick at his head. Reuben deftly dodged the attack and watched his horse galloping off after Eleanor fondly.
“You have such a way with animals,” Ayla commented, shaking her head.
“And with people, too,” he retorted, leaning closer with another devilish grin.
“In your dreams,” she mumbled and wandered over to the apple tree. There, she sat down with her back against the trunk and relaxed. The whole scenery was so peaceful, and the last few days—and really the weeks before that—had been so exhausting… It was nice to sit here in the sun and watch two beautiful horses chasing each other across a meadow, even if she strongly disapproved of one of their names.
Seeing this peaceful picture before her, it sank in for the first time since Luca's death that the feud really was over. Peace had indeed returned to Luntberg, and she now had her whole life ahead of her once more, to do with as she pleased. It was a wonderful feeling.
Then she heard footsteps beside her and saw two plate armor boots, painted blood-red, entering her vision. With that sight returned the knowledge that, with the power to make her own decisions, also came the possibility of making her own mistakes. She prayed to heaven that this would not turn out to be one of them.
“May I?” Reuben asked. At least he did ask. But, being Reuben, he didn't wait for an answer before flopping down in the grass beside her and draping an arm around her shoulder. She stiffened. Oh no. This was way too close a proximity to him for what she had planned. She needed to keep a clear head, and with his body so seductively pressing against hers, making her tingle all over, a clear head was the last thing she would have.
Thank the Lord that he was at least wearing his armor! It would have been much worse if she had been able to feel the heat of his body, and his strong muscles separated from her only by a few layers of thin linen, close enough to…
Stop! Stop thinking about him without clothes, right away! Clear head, remember? Clear head!
“You know,” Reuben remarked drowsily, “maybe I should take my armor off. It's quite a hot day, and…”
“No! Um…you…you should definitely keep it on. Because, um…bandits might attack at any moment! Yes, bandits.”
“Bandits?” Smiling in a way that made it very hard for her to breathe, he leaned even closer. She could feel his breath upon her cheek. “Are you afraid some churl might rob you of your virtue? That's a little far-fetched, don't you think?” He waved at the landscape. “Looks pretty peaceful to me.”
“Looks can be deceiving,” she replied, breathless, but audible at least. “Some days, these forests, however peaceful they look, are infested with ruthless robber knights.”
He gave a low chuckle. Ayla felt the reverberation going through her entire body, stirring something deep inside her.
“Point taken.” Reuben gave a little bow of his head. “You are very wise to be cautious, Milady. Robber knights can be very dangerous.”
“I've noticed,” was all she could manage to whisper.
They sat a while in peaceful silence. Ayla just enjoyed the peace and Reuben's proximity. He didn't make any more offers to take his armor or anything else off, for which she was intensely grateful. She wasn't exactly sure she would have the strength of character required to refuse.
After a while, the silence was interrupted by Reuben's chuckle. Ayla looked up at him. She hadn't said anything funny, had she? In fact, she hadn't said anything at all. She had tried to think of a way of how to phrase what she had to discuss with him, but no words had actually passed her lips.
Then she noticed that Reuben wasn't looking at her. His amusement seemed to be directed at something different. Following his gaze, she saw he was looking at the meadow. There, Eleanor and the black stallion with the unmentionable name were no longer running freely over the grass, but standing close to one another—very close to one another indeed.
“They seem to be getting on very well together, don't they?” Reuben's voice was full of dry humor.
“I suppose so,” Ayla grudgingly admitted.
“Just think,” he sighed. “A beast of a stallion, used to heavy combat and travel throughout the kingdoms of Christendom and beyond, and a sweet, innocent, young mare who has never left her native pastures. That is the stuff epic romances are made of.”
Ayla swallowed.
We're talking about horses, she told herself. Nothing more, nothing less. But inside, she knew that wasn't true. There were words, hidden behind the words that Reuben spoke aloud. She felt it would be best to put a stop to it right away. So she shook her head energetically.
“Epic romance? I call it bad judgment. But Eleanor never had good taste in stallions.”
“You are very harsh, Milady.”
“Not so. I'm simply realistic.”
“I see.” Thoughtfully, Reuben scratched his stubbly chin. The motion was distracting. It made Ayla want to follow the path of his fingers with her own. “But, as you see, they seem pretty sure about each other.” He gestured towards Eleanor, who was rubbing her head against the neck of that accursed black stallion. Ayla decided that she would have to have a very firm talk with her mare once they were back at Luntberg Castle.
“Yes, it seems so, Reuben. And?”
Reuben's eye was no longer focused on the horses. He was looking off into the distance.
“Do you think they will find happiness together?” he asked in a low voice.
Ayla swallowed. This was it. The pretense had fallen away. She had to chance it, now or never.
“I think that kind of depends on Satan.”
“Does it?”
“Yes.”
“In what way, Milady?”
“Well…horses can be very secretive animals. I'm sure there's a lot he is keeping back. A lot he hasn't told her about himself.”
“Such as?”
Here it comes, she thought, gathering her strength. Soon, she would know.
“Such as his past. Such as what made him the way he is.”
Reuben's expression had turned stony. “Why would she need to know?”
“Maybe,” Ayla whispered, tears coming to her eyes, “because she's afraid.”
“She doesn't need to be. Everything is fine, just fine.”
There was a silence. Suddenly, Ayla whirled around to face him.
“How did you do it, Reuben?” she demanded. “How did you hold a flaming torch with your bare hands?”
“I thought we were talking about horses?” Reuben asked, raising an eyebrow..
“Answer me!”
But he didn't. Fear began welling up in Ayla, faster and higher than ever before. “I-is it because…because you…”
“What?” Reuben looked at her curiously. She blushed. Oh dear Lord, how to say this…
“Is it because you are a servant of the devil?” she blurted out. “Flames are the Devil's domain, and you always swear by the Devil, and so I thought that maybe you sold your soul to him or are the offspring of a demon or maybe the great-grandchild of a witch or something and have the blood of the devil flowing in your veins and have control over the powers of hell! I mean, I wouldn’t judge you, it’s not your fault who your parents were, but if you haven’t repented and come back to God and are still an Apostate and Heretic and haven’t been baptized, I don’t know what to do because I love God and believe in him with all my heart and though I love you, too, so much, and Reuben, I couldn't…I just couldn't…”
She stopped, because Reuben had burst out laughing.
“Reuben!” she whimpered in embarrassment, her blush reaching astronomic proportions. “I'm trying to be serious here!”
“S-sorry! You're just so…so…”
“Funny?”
“Well, yes.” He chuckled again. “I swear by the devil because I haven't had very good experiences with the servants of God on this earth, Milady. But no, I have not sold my soul to the fiend below, if that's what you're afraid of.”
“Oh, thank God!”
Ayla slumped back against the tree, covering her face with her hands.
“Shouldn't you rather be thanking me?” She heard Reuben's voice somewhere from her left. “After all, it's my soul. I can do with it whatever I want.”
“Keep hold of it for my sake, will you?” she muttered. This covering of her face with her hands was a great idea! He couldn't see her burning hot blush this way.
“I've got a better idea, Milady. I'll give it to you, and you can take care of it for me.”
The words fell on Ayla’s heart like Manna on the desert. Slowly, she let her hands slide down her face and peeked between the tips of her fingers. The corners of her mouth moved up in a small smile.
“That sounds nice,” she ventured.
Reuben grasped her shoulders. “I think so, too.”
“But it doesn't answer my original question.” Ayla steeled herself. “I need to know, Reuben. Before I…commit myself to anything, I need to know who and what you are.”
His face darkened.
“You didn't think you had me distracted, did you?” Somehow, Ayla actually found the strength to grin at him, although her heart was pounding fast again. “I'm not so easily sidetracked.”
“No,” he growled. “That would make things far too easy.” There was tension around his eyes. Ayla could see it as clearly as the love that burned in their gray depths. “Satan's hairy ass! Can't you just forget about this? For me? Please?”
“Don't swear! And…no, I can't, Reuben.” A shudder ran down her body, and there was nothing she could do to keep him from feeling it. With her mind's eye, she once again saw his hand, firmly grasping the burning wood, unmoving, unflinching. “For you, I would do almost anything. But forget…that? No, I can't, I'm sorry.”
He bowed his head. “I understand.”
“So will you tell me?”
His lips opened. Ayla could see them tremble slightly. Was he going to answer? She couldn't tell. His tongue darted out to moisten his lips.
“Ayla, I… “
“Milady!”
Ayla's head whipped around at the sudden shout. She had been so focused on Reuben that she hadn't noticed the rider coming up from behind. Only now did she see the man with the Luntberg crest on his jerkin, galloping towards them on a light gray mount. The animal was exhausted, and at another time, Ayla might have chided the soldier for riding so hard on an animal that obviously wasn’t used to it, but when she caught sight of the soldier’s face, she bit back her words and came to her feet.
“What's the matter?” she demanded. “Speak up!”
The soldier sprang from the horse's back and ran the last few yards towards her. Coming to an abrupt halt, he just stood there, wringing his hands frantically and turning his head back and forth between the castle behind him and Ayla, at whom he stared imploringly.
“Milady,” he gasped. “You have to come to the castle now!”
Putting her fingers to her lips, Ayla called Eleanor to her with a loud whistle. Quickly, she picked up the saddle and strapped it onto the mare's back as Reuben did the same with the horse who must not be named.
“Why?” she demanded, swinging herself into the saddle. “What is happening?”
Suddenly, a horrible possibility occurred to her—one she had almost thought impossible now that they were all supposed to be safe.
“Are we under attack?” she demanded.
“Well…” The soldier hesitated, looking back at the castle again. “I'm not sure, exactly.”
“What do you mean, you're not sure?” Reuben barked at the man. He was in the saddle now, too, doing his best to control the excited stallion beneath him. “It can't be that difficult to tell, can it? Are the soldiers being attacked or aren't they?”
The man looked from Ayla to Reuben, and then quickly back to Ayla. There was helpless, shameless pleading in his eyes as he stared up at her.
“Well, yes. And no. And yes. I guess we are. Can you please just come? And quickly? We don't know what to do!”