"How could they have reorganized so quickly?" she demanded in a hoarse whisper. "Who is leading them?"

No one answered. The question hadn't been meant for anyone in particular, anyway. Ayla wasn't fool enough to think someone here might have the answer.

Is this it? she asked herself. They are going to attack now, and I'm going to die?

And she had thought herself safe. Hah!

She didn't bother to give any orders. What use was there? Against a force of such overwhelming superiority, they didn't have a hope. Not even the shadow of a hope. They might as well just open the gates.

No! That I will not do! I might not be able to win this fight, but I will not meekly hand over my people to the enemy! Not after all we've suffered together.

As if trying to burn them alive with the pure force of her glare, Ayla stared at the approaching enemy army. They had come back! After everything, they had come back to destroy her people after all. The soldiers didn't seem to be bothered by her glare, so Ayla's eyes slid back up from the army to the black banners fluttering above its heads like crow's wings. And then, she saw something. Something she hadn't noticed before.

"Captain?"

"Yes, Milady?"

"Forgive me, but... Is something wrong with my eyes, or are not all the banners the army is flying black and silver?"

The Captain followed her gaze. "I don't see anything else. But even if there is, it's probably just the flag of some minor noble who is riding with the army."

"I don't think so. I think I saw blue."

"And? Many nobles have blue in their coats of arms. You do, Milady."

"Yes, I do. And I also have white in mine—which I also saw on some of the flags of the enemy army."

Slowly, Linhart turned his face towards her. "What?"

"That army," Ayla told him, pointing towards the approaching menace, "isn't just flying the colors of Falkenstein. They're flying the colors of Luntberg, a white lily on blue ground."

"That can't be!"

"Look for yourself, Captain."

The Captain looked. And then, the Captain's eyes went wide. "Good's aching, festering teeth! You're right, Milady!"

"And that's not all they're flying..." Ayla whispered.

Her eyes had caught on another color. One that fascinated and enraged her altogether more than her own coat of arms. At the very head of the army, just becoming visible as he came out from behind a clump of bushes, rode a standard bearer who held high a very unusual banner: not bearing any coat of arms, it was colored from to bottom and left to right in a brilliant, brutal blood-red.

Behind the standard bearer, towering over him like Goliath over David, rode a huge warrior atop a black stallion. He was muscled as Ayla had only ever seen on one man, but still moved with the grace and elegance of a panther. The sword that hung at his belt was a huge meat cleaver of a thing. His armor was just as crimson as the banner.

He was wearing a helmet, but Ayla didn't need to see his face to recognize him. She thought she could feel his devilish grin even from here.

"That accursed blaggard..." Ayla hissed. "What the heck has he done now? I'm going to kill him!"

Reuben unfastened his helmet, and pulled it off his head. A moment later, his face was free, and there was no longer any doubt: he was grinning, a grin that could chase an army away, or make one follow him.

"Um... Milady?" One of the guards next to her threw her an uncertain look. "How did Sir Reuben end up at the head of an army of a thousand men?"

Ayla stared down at Reuben, her eyes narrowed to slits. "I don't know."

"Um... Should we cheer, or prepare to defend the castle?"

"I don't know that either. But in the name of all that's holy, I intend to find out! Open the gates!"

The soldier's eyes went wide. The heads of all the men and women on the wall snapped around to stare at her. "M-milady?"

"You heard me! Open the gates, now!"

"But Milady..."

"Now, soldier!"

The gaze she directed at the man made him take a step back. He didn't meet her eyes, and didn't try to argue anymore. Instead, he bowed hastily, twice, and then hurried down the tower to obey her orders. By the time Ayla reached the bottom of the tower stairs and stepped outside into the sunlight, the gate was already being pulled open.

"How many men do you wish to take outside as an escort, Mila—"

The guard's words were cut short as Ayla swung herself onto Eleanor's back and spurred her horse forward, galloping right past the soldier and out of the castle, completely alone.

"Milady! Wait! You can't..."

What exactly she couldn't do was lost in the thunder of hooves. Ayla wouldn't have listened anyway. She was seeing red – literally. Without a moment's concern for her safety, she rushed down the narrow mountain path, her eyes fixed on the figure of the Red Knight, who had started to increase his pace, leaving behind army and standard-bearer, galopping up the Luntberg towards her. Ayla didn't know whether to wheep with joy or snarl with rage at the sight. Right now, she felt much more like doing the latter.

They met halfway up the mountain. Reuben slid out of the saddle, his horse still galloping, and ran towards her. Without realizing, Ayla did the same. They stopped only a few paces away from each other, and Reuben dropped to one knee, lowering his head.

"Milady." Drawing his sword from its scabbard, he offered it to her, hilt first. "Your arrogant, disobedient servant."

Ayla lifted an eyebrow. "Shouldn't it be 'your humble servant', or 'your obedient servant'?'"

"You've got more than enough of those." Without waiting for her permission, he rose and crossed the remaining distance between them. Ayla felt the heat of the body, felt the diabolical force that always seemed to draw her inexorably towards him. She would have liked nothing better than to fall into his arms right then and there and kiss every part of him she could reach.

Instead, she raised her hand and stabbed a finger towards the army covering the slopes of the mountain.

"What," she demanded, doing the best she could to keep her voice steady, "is that?"

Reuben turned to glance at the vaste horde of heavily armed warriors.

"That? That's just my escort."

"I sent you out with an escort of two-hundred. You've come back with one thousand! Now, I understand if you're no genius of mathemathics, but even you should be able to see the discrepancy!"

Glancing at the army once more, Reuben nodded, thoughtfully. "Yes, I see your point. There do seem to be a few more than when I left, don't there?"

"Yes. Indeed. And most of them are sporting my enemy's colours."

"Wrong." Reuben raised a hand, and reached out to touch her face. Ayla shied back like a startled filly. If she let his hands touch her skin, she knew she would succumb to him. And right now, she needed to stay angry. "Very wrong, Milady. Those are all your men down there."

"Mine?" Ayla stared down at the huge army, filled with so much shock that for a moment she even forgot to be angry. Just for a moment. "But... I don't have half as many men!"

"Now you do."

"But... but... some of them are bearing black and silver standards! Those are my enemy's colors!"

"No. They used to be your enemy's colors. Now they're yours."

"What... I... I don't..." Ayla shook her head, then glared up at Reuben. "They can't be mine! They're the colors of another noble house! They can't be mine, and neither can all those soldiers, unless... unless..."

Her voice windled as her thoughs were being sucked into a maelstrom of impossible possibilities. She shook her head again.

"Reuben... What did you do?"

"Murder, burn and pillage," was his jovial reply. "I was at my very best form, too. Once you had finally let me out of your clutches and I was out of the castle with my two-hundred men I went looking for the remnants of the enemy army. I found them down the river, camped out in a miserable excuse for a camp and missing a purpose in life. It didn't take me long to persuade them that service as vassals of Luntberg was their secret, life-long ambition."

"Convince?"

"Oh yes."

"So... you talked to them?"

"There wasn't really much talking involved, no."

Ayla's stare bored into Reuben like the Archangel Michel's sword into Lucifer.

He shrugged. "Well, I might have broken a neck or two, but the rest of them were definitely convinced."

"I can imagine."

"Well, once they had seen the light, I asked Count Siegfried's permission to cross his land..."

"Asked?"

"Well, let's say I persuaded him."

"I see."

"He, too, soon turned out to be very reasonable and open to my arguments, and so we crossed his land, and soon reached the late Margrave's borders."

"What?" Ayla's eyes went wide. "You took six-hundred of my enemy's soldier's right onto their home territory?"

With a smile, Reuben raised a finger to her cheek. This time, she couldn't shy away in time, and he stroked it down her cheek, sending a deliscious shiver down her spine. "You're falling into your old error, Milady, in believing those soldiers your enemies. They're not enemy soldiers anymore. They're yours."

"They could have turned on you in an instant!"

"On me?" Reuben threw back his head and laughed. "They had just seen me burn a man to death and sqash their liege lord into a bloody pulp! They were scared to death of me!"

Ayla felt another shiver run down her back, and realized that just a tiny little bit she could sympathize with the soldiers. Reuben was frightening—fascinatingly frightening.

"And even if they would have turned on me," he continued in a low, threatening murmur that made Ayla want to throw herself at him and sink into his hot, hard embrace, "do you think it would have gotten them anywhere? I would kill ten thousand men if they stood between me and you."

His fingers, on her cheek just a moment ago, were suddenly sliding down her throat, over her collarbone, stroking, caressing. Letting out a gasp, Ayla closed her eyes for a moment. It was just a blink, but when she opened dher eyes again he was already right in front of her, and it was too late to flee. His lips caught hers firmly, capturing her mouth, her heart, her everything with one bold, demanding stroke.

When lis lips let go of hers, she wanted to cry out, to demand for the kiss to go on! All she could get out was a small moan. Reuben chuckled.

"You blaggard" she managed. "You're trying to distract me!"

"Of course I am." Moving on from her mouth, he slid his lips over her cheek, up to her ear, capturing her earlobe in his mouth. He sucked, and Ayla sucked too—sucked in a breath. "And it's working."

"You...! Tell me what you did! With your escort and the Margrave's army you still only had eight-hundred soldiers. Where in God's name did you get the rest?"

"You kept count?" Reuben's tongue tickled her ear, and Ayla's knees nearly buckled. "Impressive."

"I... oh... of course I did! Tell me!"

"Well, I and my eight-hundred soldiers marched straight through the Margrave's fiefdom, looting, burning and ravishing all the way. I thought the Luntberg men should get a bit of their own back, and the Margrave's former soldiers seemed surprisingly eager to burn their neighbours' houses down."

"Reuben! How could you!"

"Don't worry. I myself abstained from the ravishing." He gave a sigh. "Not that there weren't some prime opportunities, but, you know, I thought since I love you and all that..."

Ayla felt her cheeks go flaming red. "That's not what I was was talking about! I meant how could you take out your revenge on those poor people? It's not their fault they had to serve the Margrave von Falkenstein."

"No it isn't," he growled into her ear. "But then, I'm a soulless bastard, so I don't really care who I take my revenge on."

"You low, miserable... oh, I don't even know what insult to choose!"

"Do you want my help picking one out?"

"No! Let go! Now!"

"You don't really mean that," he whispered, and strewed a path of kisses on her her cheek, down towards her mouth. Ayla was just about to protest that, yes, she dang well did, when his mouth covered hers again, silencing her. She let him. He was right, anyway, curse him!

Countless immesurable infinities passed before he broke away. When he did, Ayla felt as if she might die from the loss.

"You... you still haven't told me!" she panted. "The two-hundred soldiers! Where did you get them?"

"You don't give up, do you?" Reuben grinned. He didn't seem at all annoyed by the fact—quite the contrary. "Where was I?"

"In the Margrave's fiefdom, looting, burning and ravishing."

"No, no, just looting and burning, remember? I left the ravishing to others."

"Get on with it!"

"Yes, Milady. Well, as I said, we moved up the countryside. It took us a few days to reach Falkenstein Castle, with all the looting and burning we had to do. By the times we had marched up in front of the castle – and a very nice castle it is, by the way – the people inside were already properly shivering with fear of the Red Robber Knight."

"What happened?"

"Why, they opened the gates of course."

Ayla's eyes went wide. "Just like that? You asked them them to open the gates, and they just did? Didn't the castle have a garrison?"

"Of course. About four-hundred men, I think."

"That's more than enough to try and resist!"

"Yes, it is. But I think seeing their liege-lord's head on a spike severely dampened their morale."

Ayla stiffened in Reuben's arms. "Head... on a spike?"

"Hm?" Reuben was busy kissing her behind the ear. It was a very efficient way of making Ayla go all soft and malleable again, but she fought against it, bravely.

"Reuben—are you telling me that you cut off the Margrave's head and put it on a spike and parade it around the country?"

"Yes, indeed," he confirmed, proudly. "Brilliant idea, wasn't it?"

"You big ox!" Pushing against his chest, Ayla tried to shove him away. His rock-hard muscles didn't move an inch, and she thumped his chest with her fist. Still, it had no effect. "Have you got any idea how long I've been searching for that head? My soldiers and servants have been hunting all around the castle for it for days! Eventually, when it started to smell, I had to bribe father Jone with a new altar cloth so he'd bury a headless corps!"

"Oh." Ayla could hear the grin in Reuben's voice. That blaggard! She hit chest again, harder this time. He didn't seem to mind at all, curse him! "I still have the head. If you want it, I can have one of my sergeants bring it for you. I'm afraid it's gone a bit green, though."

It was a tremendous tribute to Reuben's behind-the-ear-kissing abilities that Ayla managed to hear this without wanting to be sick.

"No thank you! You can keep it!"

"And what am I to do with it?"

"You figure that out for yourself! After all, you were keen enough to have it in the first place."

"I know," Reuben purred. "I'll give it to little Fye. She seems to have a fondness for severed heads."

Ayla knew he was just trying to rile her. The problem with Reuben was that this didn't mean he wouldn't do exactly what he said, no matter how gruesome it was. Her fist hit his chest again.

"Don't you dare! She's just a little girl!"

"It's never too early to learn about anatomy." Reuben's hand, having rested against her neck so far, slid down over her shoulder and side, down to her waiste. Ayla shivered. "I myself have found it useful on numerous occasions."

"Don't try to change the subject again! You were telling me what in God's name you were up to at the Margrave's Castle!"

"The Margrave's former castle," Reuben corrected her, placing another kiss behind her ear. God, how did he manage to find all the spots that made her knees want to buckle? "Considering the fact that he's dead, and moreover that I marched into Falkenstein Castle just a week ago, hoisting the banner of the noble house of Luntbert on its highest tower, I think it's fair to say that it's his no longer."

"You what?" Ayla's breath caught. She thought she might fall if Reuben didn't hold her so tightly. "You hoisted my flag above Falkenstein Castle?"

Reuben stopped kissing her behind the ear. Moving back slightly, until he could look her in the eyes, he lifted an inquiring eyebrow.

"Of course, Milady. What did you think was the purpose of my little expedition? To say hello to the Margrave's steward and leave my regards?"

Reuben smiled, and there was nothing of the usual seering hot intensity in his smile. It was cold. Ice-cold.

"Oh no, Ayla. I had very definite goals. Within an hour, the castle was under my control and every soul within its walls sworn to serve the house of Luntberg. To serve you. You should have seen the seemstresses run. Another half our, and they had made a big blue and white banner to hang from the gate towers, proclaiming to all the world who was now Mistress of Falkenstein."

"You... you conquered Falkenstein Castle?" This time, Ayla did fall. Her knees gave way, and she didn't hit the ground only because Reuben caught her. "Actually conquered? Do you mean to say that it's not just some punitive expedition? That you mean to keep the castle?"

"Oh no. I man for you to keep it."

"Me?"

"Naturally. Otherewhise I would have hoisted my banners over the castle, not yours, wouldn't I?"

Aya slammed her fist into his chest once again. When that didn't yield any result, she stamped down on his foot. No effects were visible. Mary, mother of God! Why did she have to be in love with a man who couldn't feel even a little sting of pain?

"What in God's name do you think you're up to, going around conquering castles in my name?"

He looked almost sheepish. "It was only one castle."

"That's not the point! I already have a castle, thank you very much!"

Reuben cocked his head. For a nearly seven foot tall musclebound berserker, he looked astonishingly likea a favorite puppy who has just performed a trick and had gotten a good whack for it instaed of the expected praises.

"I don't understand what is getting your dander up, Milady. You wanted victory, didn't you?"

Ayla rung her hands. Didn't he have any brains in that wooden head of his?

"Of course I wanted victory! I wanted Falkenstein to be gone so wecould live in peace again—not to take over his lands! Have you got any idea how much trouble it is to rule over an entire fiefdom?"

Reuben tapped his chin, consideringly. "Not really. I've really only ever plundered them, never taken the time to rule them."

"Exactly! And Falkenstein's lands are at least three times as big as my own!"

"Four times, I think you'll find. I saw a map in Falkenstein Castle."

Ayla shot a glare at him. "Four times," she groaned. "Four times as big!"

Suddenly grinning again, Reuben leaned forward, pressing his pelvis into her. And Ayla could feel something else down there, too, besides his pelvis—something hard.

"You know, size isn't always a bad thing," he mused. "Sometimes, it has its advantages."

Her face on fire, Ayla tried to push him away. Of course it didn't work. He closed the rest of the distance between them and kissed her with passion.

"Don't try and change the subject again!" she murmured against his lips. "What about Falkenstein's vassals? Do you think they will simply let you take over? All the younger brothers of the knights you've killed in battle, the guards and men at arms that were left behind... They will all be marching on Falkenstein Castle, trying to dislodge you!"

"Aye, Milady. I believe such was their plan. The second army, flying banners of Falkenstein, that appeared in front of the castle days after my arrival suggested something of the kind."

Ayla nearly bit his lip off.

"S-second army?"

"Aye."

"What happened?"

"Well, they might have attacked..." He shrugged. "But as luck would have it, the nobles whose lands the Margrave had been steeling and conquering in little pieces over the last few years got wind of his dimise. They seemed very eager to join the fight, and also arrived with an army a few days later."

The cocky smile on his face made Ayla want to kiss him again.

"As luck would have it my foot!" She couldn't help smiling back at him. "You sent them word!"

"Of course I did. What do you take me for?"

"For a scheming, lecherous blaggard."

"There you're right."

"What happened next?" Anxiously, Ayla let her eyes sweep over Reuben. She hadn't even thought of checking him for wounds before. How stupid! "Was there a battle?"

"No, no. After seing the Margrave's greenish head, and noticing that they were outnumbered three to one, his remaining loyal subjects swiftly became disloyal. They laid down there weapons, and were marched into the castle by my men, where they swore an oath of fielty to me."

"To... you?" Ayla's mouth fell open. He was supposed to be her vassal! And now he was taking over all those troops for himself?

"Of course." Reuben raised an eyebrow. "You didn't think I'd let such an opportunity to make myself more powerful slip through my fingers, did you? Besides, I had already let them hoist your flag on the castle towers. The castle was yours. I had to keep something for myself."

"Oh, really? And you thought an army of a thousand men was the right thing for you?"

"One thousand and five-hundred men, actually, counting the ones I left at Falkenstein Castle." Reuben nodded. "And yes, that's definitely the right thing. I had to keep something impressive. After all, I needed something as a present, and I thought one thousand and five-hundred battle-hardened warriors would make quite an impressive present."

"Present?" Ayla blinked up at him, nonplussed. She had definitely not expected this. Suddenly, she had the feeling of having been plunged into a pool of ice-cold water. "Present for whom?"

"For you, of course. With our big day coming up, I thought I should make you a present, and a nice, big, bloodthirsty army sounded like just the right thing, considering the occasion."

"Occasion?" The ice-cold pool was getting colder by the minute. "What occasion?"

"Why, our wedding, of course."

"What?"

"Oh." He cocked his head again and smiled his most devilish smile at her. "Did I forget to mention that? You're going to marry me."

The world stumbled and came to an abrupt halt. Suddenly, the sun shone twice as brightly as before. Birds started singing in the trees, flutes and fiddles played sweet music in the background, and angels flew across the sky in heavenly formations.

Ayla could hardly breathe. Had she heard right? Had her ears captured those words correctly, those magic words that had changed her life from one moment to the next?

Well, just in case they hadn't, it couldn't hurt to check.

"What did you say?" she managed to ask.

Reuben's diabolical smile didn't waver, burning its way into her very soul. "You heard."

"But... I thought you wanted nothing to do with marriage. I thought you hated priests so much you couldn't stand the idea."

"Yes, well... Let's say father Jone showed me the error of my ways. Any man of the cloth who says Hail Mary over a chest ful of crossbows and buries a headless corpse deserves my respect. Besides... I want you forever. And I won't let anything stand in my way!"

Harps added their beautiful angelic tones to the flutes and fiddles, and the angels flying in the sky started to sing. Ayla's heart sang right along with them. She smiled up at Reuben, shily.

"I love you."

"I love you too, by Satan's hairy ass! And you're bloody well going to marry me!"

"Oh, I am, am I?"

"Aye, Milady."

"Hasn't it occurred to you to ask me first?" She raised an eyebrow. Inside, she was singing louder and louder. She didn't know how much longer she could keep it hidden, keep her joy from bursting out.

"Ask you what?"

"Whether I want to marry you at all, you fly-bitten loggerhead!"

"You as much as told me you want to over a week ago."

"I might have changed my mind. I'm a woman, you know." It took all her inner strength to glare up at him. What she really wanted to do was throw her arms around his neck. "Besides, you can't just order me to marry you, and drag me off to the altar! You have to at least ask me!"

"No." His grin growing even more diabolical, the very devil dancing in his eyes, Reuben snaked an arm around her waste and drew her towards him. She could feel every hard line of him, every muscle, every ounce of strength and power. "I'm a robber knight. I do what I want. I take what I want."

She stabbed a finger into his chest. "You haven't robbed anyone anyone in monthes. You have sworn an oath as my vassal, and have lands and titles again!"

Reuben's eyes narrowed. "True. Bloody, stinking hell!"

"And that's not all, oh no." A grin spread over Ayla's face. "You've caragously fought in defense of the week and helpless. You've protected a maiden's honour from a ruthless conqueror..."

"Satan's hairy ass! Stop, please!"

"...you've shown yourself to be brave, and loyal, and the epitomy of every knightly virtue..."

"You're hurting my ears! Stop!"

"...in short, you're no robber knight anymore. You're a true knight again. My knight."

"Damn! You're right!"

Ayla beamed up at him. "Besides, you're my vassal. You have to do what I tell you to, or I might kick you out. So if I want you to ask me, you had better do it, and right speedily!"

Reuben closed his eyes for a moment. When he opened them, they were dancing with devilish joy.

"Well..." He gave a dramatic sigh. "It appears I have no other choice."

Ayla felt something large and strong take hold of her fingers. When she looked down, she saw Reuben's hands around hers, holding her tightly. Slowly, the Red Knight went to one knee.

If Ayla had been aware of the world around her, she would have heard the "Aahh"s and "Aww"s from behind her, up on the castle wall, and seen the women lean forward with misty eyes. But she wasn't aware of the world around her. All she could see was Reuben, kneeling in front of her, looking up at her with his fiery gray eyes.

"Ayla von Luntberg, you are the most breathtaking, brave and beautiful woman I have ever seen in my life—which is saying quite a lot, believe me. I love you, and I want you to be mine forever." Taking a deep breath, Reuben lowered his head before her, and gently pressed her hand. "Will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?"

Silence.

Then a bit more silence.

When Reuben finally raised his head again and looked up at her, Aayla's head was cocked to the side, and she was thoughtfully stroking her lower lip.

"Ayla..." he growled. "I'm waiting!"

"And I'm thinking. It's not an easy question to answer, you know. I have to consider all the pros and cons."

"I could have added 'the most annoying' to the list of your admirable qualities, Milady!"

She smiled. "What a shame. Up until now, you were playing the role of the courteous and noble knight really well."

He raised an eyebrow. There was danger in that curved eyebrow, and deliscious vengeance threatening in his eye. "And now?"

"Now you're talking like Reuben again—Reuben the Robber Knight."

"Who is still waiting for your answer."

"Yes."

Silence again. Reuben's mouth opened a fraction of an inch, and his eyes caught fire.

"Yes as in... Yes? You'll marry me?"

"Yes!" Unable to hold it in any longer, Ayla grabbed him by the hand and pulled him to his feet. He picked her up and whirled her around.

"Of course I'll marry you, you fiend of Satan," she laughed. "Now let me down! Let go of me!"

"Let go of you?" Reuben growled, and pulled her forward to claim her mouth with his. "Never in a million years!"

THE END

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My dear Lords and Ladies,

I hope you enjoyed the last chapter of "The Robber Knight's Secret"? This concludes the last volume of the Robber Knight Saga. Please let me know what you think of it.

If you want to read more of my writing, you can try my new story "Black Diaries". Please give it a go! I would love to hear your opinion :)

Yours Truly

Sir Rob