They arrived at the open gates of the camp to find a sergeant of what used to be Isenbard's men waiting beside a large pile of metal objects.
“Greetings, Milady, Sir Reuben.” The sergeant bowed deeply.
“Greetings, sergeant,” Ayla replied. Everything inside her yearned to ride on, to leave these unimportant trinkets behind and search for what she really wanted, for what she prayed was inside the camp. But she knew she couldn't do that. She couldn't start a panic by acting strangely, and she had to keep a cool head. Pointing to the jumbled pile, she inquired, “What is this?”
“All metal that isn't weapons or armor that we found in the camp, Milady—some oil lamps and candlesticks, a lot of pots and spits, and some other odds and ends.” He pointed to another pile. “Those are other small things: clay jars, clay plates, horns. I've brought them out here for one of the servants to inspect. Maybe we can use some of it in the castle.”
“I have a better idea,” Ayla said. “Bring all of it up to the castle, and have it looked through by the villagers. I'm sure they'll recognize much of it.”
The sergeant’s eyes widened. “You mean that…”
Ayla nodded, a feeling both sad and happy at the same time—but, most of all, impatient to get on. “Yes. A lot of it will probably turn out to be loot from the village. See to it that everything is returned to its rightful owner. That which has no rightful owner, I order you to distribute fairly among those who have lost the most. In this, I trust your judgment, sergeant.”
“Yes, Milady! I will not fail you, Milady!”
“See that you don't,” Reuben growled. “I, for my part, most certainly don't trust your judgment and will be around to check.”
“Reuben!” Ayla jabbed her elbow into Reuben's ribs. He merely smiled at her in return.
The sergeant seemed to be able to hold his ground, though. He paled a little but met Reuben’s eyes. Ayla saw a little of Isenbard in those steadfast eyes. “Yessir!”
“Do you know where the rest of the things are kept?” Ayla wanted to know, eager to get away from the subject of violent threats.
“Yes, Milady! Inside the camp. We didn't want to unpack or move the food so it won't get spoiled.”
“Very wise. Until later, sergeant.”
The two of them spurred their horses on and rode into the camp at a brisk pace.
“Why do you always do that?” hissed Ayla as soon as the man was out of hearing range.
“Do what?”
“Set people on edge like that.”
He grinned at her as though she'd given him a compliment. “Do I set you on edge?”
“No! But every single soldier under my leadership.”
“Well…for one thing, it's good for discipline. And for another, it's fun.”
“You shouldn't misuse your authority for your own amusement!”
Leaning over, he quickly brushed his fingers along her neck, and she felt a shiver shoot down all the way down her spine.
“Can you provide me with other kinds of amusement?” he whispered, with enough heat in his voice to make her faint and fall off her horse. But Eleanor was far too trusty a steed to let that happen.
“Don't worry.” Reuben reached over and took her hand, caressing its back with his thumb. The motion sent tingles all the way up Ayla’s arm. It was becoming hard to remember what they had been talking about. “Soldiers enjoy it when you handle them a bit roughly. I think those lads of yours are actually beginning to take a liking to me.”
She thought that this might be a bit too optimistic a view of things, but held her tongue and reluctantly pulled her hand from his oh-so-seductive grip. They had business to attend to.
After a short ride through the camp, they reached a place in the middle. Ayla saw a few holes in the earth, right in front of her.
“What's that?” she asked.
“It's where Luca's tent stood,” came Reuben's quiet reply.
Ayla sucked in a quick breath. “H-how do you know…? Of course! You were here.” He had probably seen a lot of the camp, that night he had stolen back Eleanor. It was odd, looking at these four round holes in the muddy ground now. They were all that remained of the stranger from a foreign land who had tried to take everything she knew and loved away from her. Now he was dead.
Ayla decided she didn't like it here. It didn't exactly feel like somebody walking over her grave—rather as if she were walking over somebody else’s grave.
“All right, let's get this over with.” Sliding from the saddle, she stepped towards Sir Rudolphus, who was waiting for her beside the holes in the ground. After the impressive job he had done with the castle supplies, she had put him in charge of taking stock in the enemy camp. It had been an excellent choice, Ayla could see that right away. His eyes were shining, and his Adam's apple was bobbing in excitement.
“Sir Rudolphus.” Ayla smiled and acknowledged him with a nod. Nothing had ever felt as hard as that smile.
Please let him have found what we need! Please, God!
“Tell me what you have found, Sir knight.”
Please, God! Just enough to get us through the winter!
Sir Rudolphus took a deep breath.
“Well, Milady, apart from the various utensils and paraphernalia you already found beyond the limits of this encampment, there is a great deal more to discover. First of all, of course, are the tents. They are of a surprisingly good quality, especially those of the officers. They will, I am sure, catch a good price on any market. Some I suggest we should keep. In case of emergencies such as the recent violent altercation, we could extend our housing capacities beyond the buildings of the castle and utilize the yard for this purpose.”
Reuben, who had dismounted, too, by now, leaned over and whispered into Ayla's ear, “Does he always talk like this? Maybe he needs a good bump on the head, and he'll start making sense.”
Ayla's lips twitched. Was he still trying to cheer her up? Well, whether deliberate or not, it was working. She raised an eyebrow at Reuben.
“I have no problems understanding him. Do you?”
She nodded to Sir Rudolphus. “Your suggestion seems to me to be an excellent one, Sir Rudolphus. Please continue with your report.”
And please, please get to the important things now!
“Thank you, Milady!” She was rewarded with a nervous, but heartfelt smile. “Apart from the tents, there are a lot of provisions, of course.”
Yes! Please!
Her heart made a leap.
“What kind?” Ayla wanted to know, her voice hoarse. If only they would be in luck now…
“Dried fruit, salted pork and fish, grain, things like that. Food that can sustain somebody over a long march and is generally non-perishable.”
Yes! Food that will hold over the winter!
“Oh, thank the Lord,” Ayla sighed. “Please, Sir Rudolphus, tell me you've already counted everything? How much?” Anxiously, she held her breath. “How much corn is there, exactly? Is it enough to sustain all of us for a few months?”
He grinned a boyish grin. “Hundreds of sacks of corn, dozens of barrels of fish and meat. It’s literally enough to feed an army. I have already ordered it to be stored in the same manner as all our other supplies, so it will be safe from pests of all kind.”
“Yes!” Before she knew what she was doing, Ayla had run forward and thrown her arms around the young knight. “Yes! Yes! Yes! Sir Rudolphus, you're a wonderful knight! Don't ever let anyone talk you into sword fighting! You're doing fantastic just as you are!”
“Um…thank you, Milady.” With a face as red as the royal arms of England, the young knight tried to squirm out her grip. He was about to get help with that. Reuben appeared beside the two, his eyes practically throwing lightning bolts.
Quickly, Ayla let go.
“Oh, um…sorry, Sir Rudolphus. We'll leave you to continue your work.”
“I think that is a very good idea,” Reuben growled, grabbing her by the arm and dragging her backwards. “In fact, a perfect idea. I need to get you away from him.”
“Oh, really, Reuben. I was only expressing my appreciation for his work.”
She tried to wriggle out of his grip, but he wouldn't have any of it.
“Well, in future, Milady, express your appreciation from a distance. Understood?”
“You are my vassal! You are supposed to do what I tell you, not the other way around! Let go!”
In answer, Reuben picked her up and carried her the rest of the way to Eleanor, depositing her on the mare’s back. “Well, I never do what I'm supposed to do, Milady. I thought you would have figured that out by now.”
He swung himself into his saddle beside her.
“Reuben?”
The quiet earnestness in her tone made him turn his head and look at her. All the anger disappeared from his face as he looked at her. Ayla knew why. She could almost feel the joy radiating out from herself. She placed a hand on his arm.
“Please don't be angry. Don't you understand what that food means? I thought my people would suffer dearly during the winter, maybe even starve! Now, we suddenly have enough in our cellars to easily last through the winter, and probably still have something to spare. I am…I can't even tell you how happy I am! Do you understand?”
Her eyes pleaded with him, trying to find something beyond the years of metal, battle, and blood that had made him what he was. He gazed at her for a few moments, in silence. Then he slowly shook his head. “Being happy for other people? No. I’m a cold-hearted, merciless bastard. I don't understand.” A little smile pulled up one corner of his mouth. “But I think that, one day, I might.”
Reaching out, she took one of his large, strong hands in both of hers and held it, feeling whole and hopeful for the future. “Let that day come soon,” she whispered.
“Lady Ayla! Lady Ayla, wait!”
Sir Rudolphus had come hurrying after them, a piece of slate in his hand. “I completely forgot! There's something else we've found in abundance.”
Ayla threw a wary look at Reuben, but he didn't make a move. Apparently he thought that, on horseback, she was safe enough from pseudo-amorous entanglements with Sir Rudolphus.
“What is it?” she asked.
“Weapons.” The young knight tapped his slate excitedly. “And materials from which weapons can be made. We found at least fifty spears, five swords, fourty-five guisarmes, and seven axes. Also bows of various forms and sizes, a great number of bowstrings, whetstones, wood, iron, and other raw materials in considerable quantities.”
Ayla made a face. “Have everything gathered and loaded onto a wagon. I want those…things on the way to the market at Rothenburg at daybreak tomorrow. Hopefully, the money will go some way to repairing the damage the mercenaries have done.”
Sir Rudolphus bowed and was already about to turn when Reuben held him back with a shake of his head.
“Milady…maybe it would be wise to keep these weapons a little while longer.”
Ayla turned towards him. “You want me to keep the weapons of the mercenaries? The tools of butchery with which they intended to slaughter my people?”
He nodded grimly. “Yes, I do.”
“But…why?” she asked, puzzled.
Reuben's face was dark and troubled and gave nothing away.
“I'm not sure. But please, trust me for now. You want to keep those weapons. You might need them some day.”