As hard as she tried, Ayla wasn't able to convince Reuben to stop training women. After a few days of basic training, he mentioned to Ayla during supper that he judged the time right to introduce the fighters to the next level of crossbow shooting.

She was burning with curiosity as to what he meant. But she would rather have stabbed herself in the eye than admit it. So after supper, she waited until he had left the table, and then followed him to the training grounds on tip toes.

Ayla heard his voice long before she saw him. When she finally reached the corner of the keep and peeked around, she saw him standing before his recruits, holding something in his hand she couldn't see.

"This," Reuben said, raising his arm, "is a loading belt."

Ayla could see now that in his hand, he held a leather belt with a large, ugly iron buckle.

"It is used to get additional strength for cocking the crossbow. Watch."

Buckling on the belt, Reuben attached its over-long ends to the string of the crossbow, and placed a bolt in the groove. Then, just as he had demonstrated to the villagers before, he placed a foot in the stirrup. But this time, when he rose, he didn't grab hold of the string. He just righted himself, letting the belt around his midriff pull back the string until the crossbow was cocked.

"You see?" he asked. "Like this, you don't need to exhaust your arms, which you'll need for holding the crossbow steady when shooting. Instead, you can utilize the full strength of your body when loading."

One of the villagers raised his hand, cautiously.

"Why would you need all that strength?" the man to whom the hand belonged asked.

"I wouldn't," Reuben told him bluntly. "But you would."

Another hand was raised.

"I must have cocked a crossbow dozens of times now, and I never had difficulties with it."

"Yes?" Reuben raised an eyebrow. "And how do you think you will fare when you have to cock it hundreds of times, as fast as you can, while arrows a flying all around you, and your comrades and friends lie dying left and right?"

No more hands were raised.

"So, which of you gentleman wants to try on this fashionable crossbow loading belt?" He held up another one of the ugly leather things with one hand. "Or maybe one of the ladies might like to try? Trust me, they'll look marvelous on you. They're all the rage down south, at the Emperor's Court."

A few of the ladies raised their heads.

"Really?" asked a plump girl of maybe twenty.

Reuben gave her a smile that could incinerate underwear at a hundred paces. "Of course. Would I lie to you?"

"O-of course, not, Sir. No."

"Exactly. All the fashionable ladies in the south don't even leave the house anymore without putting on their loading belt. No satin, no silk, not even jewels must be on them. That rough, military leather look is the height of Italian fashion."

"Oh, well... If that's the case, maybe it couldn't hurt to try one on..."

The plump girl stepped forward, but before she could get three paces, another girl rushed past her.

"I'll try it! Let me!"

"No! I was there first!"

"Get out of the way, you two! I want one of those!"

It didn't take long until all the ladies were wearing loading belts around their hips. All it then took were a few significant looks from wives to their husbands, saying "Go on. If we're to look ridiculous in the name of fashion and for the defense of our home, you had better do the same" and the men grudgingly availed themselves of the loading belts that remained.

Ayla was waiting when Reuben came around the corner of the keep, finished with his lesson for the day, rubbing his hands.

"Do the ladies in Palermo really wear crossbow loading belts?" she demanded.

"Oh, greetings, Milady. So nice to see you. Did you come to watch the lesson, or just to ogle my magnificent self?"

"Answer my question, Reuben! Do the ladies in Palermo wear crossbow loading belts?"

He snorted. "Of course not! They'd look completely rediculous, wouldn't they?"

Ayla waved an accusing hand towards the female recruits, who were busily exchanging ideas on how to accessorize their loading belts. "Then why did you tell that to those women?"

He rubbed his chin, thoughtfully. "Well, firstly because I enjoy a good lie."

"Tell me something I don't know!"

"Well, then, secondly, because it will ensure that at least half our fighters will keep their crossbow belts on at all times, and will always be prepared for battle, no matter when the enemy attacks." He winked at her. "Just you wait and see, I'll bet you my helmet that most of them won't even take those things off when they sneak up to the hayloft to get naked with their lovers."

Dear God! He was impossible!

Her cheeks burning, Ayla turned around and strode off.

"Hey, wait!" Reuben called after her. "You haven't given me an opportunity to give you my latest guesses yet! I'm sure I'm right this time. You want me to write a poem about the way the sunlight reflects off your hair, don't you? That wasn't it? Wait, I've got another one!"

*~*~**~*~*

Telling outrageous lies and letting women fight in the front lines weren't the only issues on which Ayla disagreed with her commander-in-chief. There was the issue of Gernot, the fanatic, who kept prowling around the castle, throwing Reuben and Ayla filthy looks whenever he came across them.

Whenever Reuben came across Gernot, in contrast, he expressed his desire to throw other things at him than filthy looks. Things like daggers or cobblestones, for instance. But so far, Ayla had managed to restrain his murderous tendencies.

"I told you before," she said, tapping his chest with her finger. "We're not going to set vipers on him. We aren't going to brand him with hot irons or put him in the stocks, either. Reuben, you can't just torture someone because they have different opinions than you!"

"Why not?"

"Because it's wrong!"

"Yes, but it's fun, too."

Whenever the conversation reached this point, Ayla felt the urge to scream. How did you argue with someone like him?

"You're a soulless blackguard!" she accused him, slapping his chest.

"Yes, Milady." With one swift movement, he captured her hand and pressed a kiss onto its back. She tried to pull away, but he was too strong. And if she was being completely honest, she was glad for it. Just one kiss from him, anywhere, lit her whole body on fire.

"At times like these," she whispered, while he trailed kisses up her arm, over the soft fabric of her dress, towards her neckline, "I wonder if you might not be right about my wanting to ram a knife between your ribs!"

"Oh, Milady. You say such sweet, romantic things." He had reached her neck by now, and gently graced it with his hard, stubbly cheek. The sensation made Ayla's lips part in an involuntary gasp. "But you know, you don't have to use a knife to kill me," he whispered into her ear, with the voice of the devil. "We could just die the sweet death together."

"I thought I told you that that wasn't what I wanted from you. That I wanted something else."

Ayla's voice was so weak by now that she could hardly hear it herself anymore.

"I know," Reuben murmured, moving over her cheek towards her mouth. "I just thought you might have changed your mind."

And then he was at her mouth, and he was kissing her, with all the force he possessed, taking everything, and giving so much more by taking than he could ever do by giving. His lips worked on hers, battering the gates of mouth with a sweet assault that left her breathless and hardly conscious.

His tongue plunged into the battle, and, forcing her lips apart, proceeded to rob her mouth of everything it had to give and more. Pleasure, power, lust and love, all he took and gave back a hundred fold.

"Come with me," said the seductive voice of the devil. Or was it Reuben? Or was there even a difference? "The hay loft is only a little way away. It's empty. We'll be completely alone. I want to be alone with you. I need to be alone with you. I need you!"

Maybe... Maybe it wouldn't be such a bad thing to give in. They loved each other. That was all the wedding Adam and Eve had ever needed. They hadn't been married by a priest before they were together.

Yes, and they were thrown out of paradise, remember?

"Come with me, Ayla. I'll show you pleasures beyond your wildest dreams."

Oh God... how could it be evil to give into something that felt so right? She wanted him. Wanted all of him, not just his mouth on hers.

His lips danced a seductive dance against hers. The seductive words never ceased for a moment.

"Come, Ayla... Come with me..."

Why not? He felt so good, so warm, solid, wonderful...

No!

This wasn't what she wanted! She wanted something else from him. What was it again? She knew that she ought to know the word, but her mind felt rather muddled at the moment.

The word began with M, she remembered that much.

Marriage! Yes, marriage, that was it!

Quickly, before the word slipped her mind again, she pushed against his chest.

"Reuben? Reuben let go!" she mumbled past his passionate lips. "I don't want this!"

"Are you sure?"

Another kiss, so burning hot on her skin, so inviting.

No. Kiss me!

"Yes! Let go!"

With a sigh, he took his lips from hers, and straightened himself.

"And you're sure that this mysterious thing you want me to do isn't composing a sonnet?"

"No."

"Damn!"

*~*~**~*~*

Time passed, and the Margrave's men continued work on their siege fortifications. If these fortifications where just a decoy, as Reuben had said, they certainly were a very convincing decoy. Sometimes, when Ayla looked down from the wall, she wondered whether Reuben was really right, whether there would be an attack, or if he was just being overly suspicious.

But then she thought back to all the Margrave von Falkenstein had said and done. Could one be overly suspicious with such a man? Probably not.

She still regularly came by to watch the training. Sir Gregor and his men had joined the ranks of Reuben's crossbowmen by now, and she had a suspicion that Reuben worked the friendly knight harder than anyone else, to make him pay fro the crime of having been on the wrong side of the fight. She kept an eye on things, just so they wouldn't get out of hand. Besides, there was the little fact that after each day of training, Reuben would come to her, push her into a dark alcove and shower her with kisses while whispering into her ear how much he loved her—which might have contributed a little to her eagerness to come.

One day, she was arriving a little earlier than usual, just to make sure Reuben didn't use the time before she normally arrived to pound Sir Gregor into the dust, when from around the corner, she heard two hushed voices. They were hardly audible about the zitt zitt of crossbow bolts hissing through the air, but Ayla immediately recognized one of the voices as Reuben's. And when she caught the words "...don't tell—", she froze in place, listening intently.

What was this? Had Reuben cooked up some new, despicable war strategy? Was he going to make the chickens and cats fight now, too?

Carefully, she snuck closer.

"Just don't tell anyone!" she heard Reuben growl. "Why is that so difficult to get through your thick skull?"

"But Milord..." That was another voice—higher, more melodious and decidedly uncomfortable. Theoderich! Reuben's young squire. What could they have to talk about that was so very secret? "Milord, forgive me, but it isn't right, what you are doing."

"That's none of your business, goldilocks!"

"But maybe it's Lady Ayla's business."

"Don't you dare say a word to Ayla about this, do you understand? Not one word! If she finds out what I'm doing with that girl, I'm a dead man!"

Ayla felt her heart plummet. Darkness swallowed her, and the noises of the training recruits receded into the distance.

What I'm doing with that girl...

Oh no. Please no.

This couldn't be true. It couldn't be happening. Reuben couldn't be courting another girl behind her back, could he? Not after all the times he had told her he loved her?

Ayla was so racked with pain at the thought that she nearly didn't catch Theoderich's reply.

"...all well and good, Milord, but I can't just ignore something like that. Sir Isenbard always said—"

"Sir Isenbard! Always Sir Isenbard! Didn't your precious Sir Isenbard teach you that a squire has to obey his knight master?"

"Of course he did, Milord."

"Well, I am your knight master, in case you have forgotten, and you owe me your fealty. Obey!"

A dark tone had entered Reuben's voice now.

He really must not want me to find out what he's up to, Ayla thought, numbly, and then almost laughed. Of course he didn't want her to find what he was up to! He was betraying her!

"But, Milord, I also owe Lady Ayla my fealty," Theoderich protested.

"Yes. But the fealty you owe me supersedes the one you owe to Lady Ayla. Do you know why?"

"No, Milord. I'm not very well versed in the fine details of feudal hierarchy. Why?"

"Because," Reuben growled, "unlike me, Lady Ayla won't chop off your ass and feed it to the pigs if you don't do as you're told!"

"Oh." Theoderich sounded a little queasy. Ayla couldn't blaim him. "I see."

"That's not the reply I want to hear. What do I want to hear, goldilocks? I give you one guess."

"My lips are sealed, Milord! Lady Ayla won't hear a word about you and the girl from me, Milord!"

The words were like a punch the stomach. She had hoped, prayed that she had misheard the first time. But now there was no doubt.

You and the girl... you and the girl...

What was Reuben doing with any girl other than her?

The answer was so glaringly obvious that Ayla steadfastly tried to deny it even existed.

He must have got tired of waiting. When I wouldn't give him what he wanted, he must have simply taken another. Oh God...

"Good boy," she heard Reuben's voice from around the corner. He sounded a thousand miles away to her. "Now look after the recruits for a while, will you? I've got places to be, and things to do. She's not one you'd want to keep waiting."

Theoderich gave a shaky laugh. "I can readily believe that, Milord." If Ayla wasn't mistaken there was something akin to awe in his voice.

She felt another surge of betrayal, this time mixed with anger. Who was this female, whom both men seemed to treat with so much reverence? Who was the snake in her own home?

The anger was so all-consuming that she realized Reuben's footsteps were approaching only when he was nearly around the corner. Just in time, she jumped behind a barrel.

Reuben marched past without glancing to the side. He didn't notice her. Once he was far enough ahead, Ayla came out of her hiding place and started to follow him. She thanked God that the courtyard was paved. Otherwise, with dirt crunching underfoot, she would never have been able to follow him unnoticed. But what she lacked in stalking skills, she more than made up for with steaming rage. Rage at Reuben, the faithless bastard, and more than that, rage at herself.

She had known what kind of man he was: a rake, a scoundrel, a killer who took money, wine and women wherever he found them. And still she had entrusted her heart to him. Could you be any more stupid?

Yes, you could be—if after hearing what she had just heard, you still were hoping that it all wasn't true, hoping that he had remained true after all, just as she was hoping at this very moment. For although what she had heard was evidence damning enough to condemn Reuben to the deepest, darkest pits of hell, she still couldn't believe that he would betray her. Not after all they had shared, and suffered for each other.

Farther ahead, Reuben vanished around a corner. So whoever he was meeting, they were having their little trysts in the back yard, were they? Not the most romantic of locations, with nothing more to offer than dirt and bare stone walls, but definitely private.

Ayla hastened her steps. Yet before she had even had a chance to peek around the corner, she heard them. Or more precisely, she heard Reuben.

"Oh... yes, that's just right!"

Ayla froze in her tracks. The noises she heard from around the corner were like nothing she had ever managed to elicit from Reuben herself. Strangled, half-painful moans, that spoke of things being done to him she had never been able or willing to do.

"Oh yes! Yes, do it!" His deep was strained. "Do it now! Just like that, up and down, up and down."

Who was she? Who was this vixen who had taken her love from her? With rage flooding her, Ayla took the last few steps that separated her from the bitter truth and looked around the corner.

At the sight that met her eyes, her jaw dropped open.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

My dear Lords and Ladies,

I have great news! "The Rober Knight's Secret" now is available on Radish Fiction!

In case you haven't heard yet what Radish Fiction is - it's a new reading app, a bit like wattpad except that there you can support your favorite writers by donating a few cents per chapter. And the best thing is: in exchange for your generosity, you get EARLY ACCESS to chapters! :) So, if you want to find out what Ayla will find around that corner, you can go and get the Radish App now!

Happy reading, and thank you from the bottom of my heart to everyone who spends a few cents in support of my dream of becoming a professional writer! :)

Farewell,

Sir Rob

P.S: At the moment, Radish is only available on Apple devices. Android will follow soon, though! :)