The Faithful Heart

by Merry Farmer

  Another mercenary took his place. Without time to breathe Jack brought his sword up to defend against the blow aimed at his head. He swung his attacker’s sword around, kicking the man away as he lost his balance.

  He had time to take a single step closer to Simon’s body before another man came out of nowhere and he defended against a hard attack from his right. The blow pushed him back further but as he slashed at the man to fend him off yet another attacker surged at him from the left. He spun to meet that attack, steel clanging against steel, only to have to swing around and meet the blow of the man on his right. If only he had time to pick up the sword Simon had dropped. He fought both men as best he could, catching a third running at him out of the corner of his eye. He braced himself for the impossible, braced himself for the inevitable.

  Without warning the man on his right crumpled to a heap and the sharp ring of steel stopped the third man from reaching him. He could only blink before spinning to thrust at the man on his left. That man was distracted by the large flash of black and dropped his guard long enough for Jack’s thrust to hit home. His sword sunk into the man’s chest and he fell back with a gurgling cry. Jack wrenched his sword out and turned to find Crispin slashing at one of the other attackers.

  Jack tried to say something, but all that escaped from his lungs was a shapeless bellow of emotion at seeing his friend. The thread of hope that had been crushed flared back to life. It twisted in his heart like a dagger when he glanced down and saw Simon. He jumped towards the man, squatting and dropping his sword so that he could hold Simon's head in his hands.

  “Simon!” he shouted at his friend’s pale face. “Simon!” To his shock, Simon’s eyes fluttered. He laughed at the sight. His eyes shot up to survey the battle around him. A crowd of dead men surrounded them as Crispin battled with the one last man standing. Beyond them, nearer to the house, part of the battle raged on. Villagers defended their homes with ancient swords and scythes. They fought like lions but were still outnumbered.

  He pulled Simon’s arm around his neck and grunted as he hefted him over his shoulder. Crispin finished off the man he was fighting with one final thrust then spun to face him. “This way!” he shouted as Crispin stooped to pick up as many stray swords as he could.

  They rushed towards the storehouse. Crispin wrenched open the door as Jack stumbled through with Simon, then slammed it behind them. The dimness of the storehouse was as good as pitch black and he staggered forward, sinking to his knees and half laying Simon on the ground, half throwing him as he collapsed himself. They were met with screams of shock and panic from Madeline and Joanna and a bellow of pain from Aubrey. Crispin dropped his armful of swords and flew to Aubrey’s side, falling to his knees and throwing his arms around her with a groan. She clasped him just as tightly and let herself cry.

  “Simon! Simon!” Madeline shouted, half mad, eyes wide in panic when she saw nothing but the blood drowning him. She turned her frantic eyes to her husband, clutching at him with one hand and her rosary with the other as she joined him sprawled on the floor. “Jack?”

  He tried to speak but couldn’t catch his breath. Madeline crowded closer to him and he turned his head into her skirt, clutching at the fabric of her shift and coughing through painful gasps as he sank to lay by Simon’s side. He just needed a minute to recover, he told himself. He would be fine if he could just lay there for a second, if he could breathe.

  The clattering and crashing of the fight outside was growing nearer with every second that passed. He knew he didn’t have the time. Every muscle and bone in his body aching, he tried to roll over and raise himself to his hands and knees. His body wanted to give up. He grasped Madeline's skirt with both hands to anchor himself. Her gentle scent was the only link to life that he had at the moment.

  His eyes hadn’t adjusted all the way when there was another loud bang and the storehouse door flew open. He spun, grabbing for his sword, and Crispin wrenched himself from Aubrey’s arms and to his feet. “Ethan!” Joanna’s startled shout broke the silence. “Toby!” She ran forward and flung herself into her brother’s outstretched arms, erupting into tears. “I thought I would never see you again!”

  “Me too!” Toby admitted, hugging his sister. When he let her go he pushed her back to arm’s length, face grim as death. “Lydia knows we’re all in here.”

  Joanna’s eyes snapped to Ethan’s. He stood on one foot, turning to shut the door and bar it with whatever he could find. He lowered his head in shame as everyone stared at him. The sight broke Toby’s heart.

  His sister had a different reaction. “You bastard!” she shouted and ran at him. “This is all your fault! You and your stupid obsession with Windale!”

  “No, Joanna,” Toby tried to stop her.

  “You told them we were here, didn’t you? Didn’t you!” The words weren’t enough. She pulled back and slapped him. His head whipped to the side, eyes closed in misery, red-rimmed and streaming.

  She balled her fist and pulled back again, but Toby threw his arms around her and lifted her out of the way. “Joanna, no,” he spoke soothingly in her ear. “No. Let him be. Can’t you see he’s hurt himself more than he’s hurt you?”

  Joanna struggled out of her brother’s arms and spun to glower at him. “Of course you would say that! You defend him in everything! You take his side in all things! Even when he’s wrong! Even when his pride is about to get us all killed!”

  “He never means to hurt anyone, he just does.”

  “I’m sick of listening to you defend him!” Joanna shouted. “I’m sick of watching you eat your heart out for him, year after year, leaving me to follow him to the ends of the earth for something you’re never going to get!”

  Toby’s hands went numb, his face pale. As much as he wanted to, he couldn’t bear to glance to Ethan. He couldn’t bear the truth that was about to come out. “I love him!” he cried from the bottom of his mangled heart, squeezing his eyes shut as soon as he’d said what he’d promised himself he would never utter aloud.

  “He can’t love you back!” Joanna shouted even as she broke down. Her whole body wracked with sobs of anger and pity and guilt.

  “I know,” Toby strangled out his cry of defeat. “Don’t you think I know that?” He forced himself to raise his eyes to meet those of the only person he had ever loved. Ethan stared back at him with wide-eyed shock. Even shattered into a thousand pieces, bruised and defeated, he was the most beautiful thing Toby had ever seen. “I know,” he whispered, nodding painfully. “I know.”

  Ethan swayed forward, mouth falling open as he searched for something to say. Whatever he would have said was cut off by the swelling cry and clamor of the men that surrounded the storehouse. Their bellowing, ribald voices shook the foundation of the building. Aubrey let herself cry out with the pain of contractions that were too close together. Crispin crouched beside her, undisguised terror in his eyes.

  Jack lunged to the door, looking out for a moment then turning to pull Madeline across the room to where Simon lay. “It’s Lydia,” he hissed.

  “We know you’re in there!” Lydia called from the clearing outside of the storehouse. “There’s no point in hiding. So why don’t you all just come out and we’ll kill you quickly, alright?” She sounded like she was having the best day of her life

  Toby tore his eyes away from Ethan’s and hugged Joanna as she trembled with rage and fear. Crispin smoothed the damp hair off of Aubrey’s forehead and kissed her before standing and turning to face the others. “There has to be a way to get the women to safety.”

  “We’re surrounded, mate,” Jack shook his head in reply. He pulled Madeline into his arms. “I’m not leaving my wife.” Madeline sobbed and trembled in his arms.

  Crispin turned back to Aubrey, their eyes meeting. “Neither am I. Never again.” He sank to his knees at her side.

  “Come on, Jack!” Lydia taunted them. “You’re wasting my time as usual. Let’s get this over with, shall we? I have a manor to rebuild!”r />
  “Right,” Jack drew in a breath. “We all rush out together. Maybe some of us will make it. Oy, an’ leave Lydia for me!”

  “Tom is on his way!” Toby stopped the mad plan in its tracks. “Tom is coming with an entire army. They were right behind us. They should be here any minute.”

  “I hate to break it to you,” Jack shook his head, stepping away from Madeline and bending to pick up a sword with each hand, “but we don’t got a minute, mate.” He moved to the door and looked out through a crack.

  “Do you see them? Do you see Tom and the Windale men?” Ethan rushed to stand beside Jack, looking out over the engulfed village and the crowd of mercenaries.

  “No.” Jack shook his head, tightening his grip on both swords.

  “They’ll be here!” Toby shot forward to join them. He had complete faith in his friend to come to their rescue. He too scooped down and picked up a sword. “We just need to buy them time,” he told them, resolve stronger than any he’d ever felt filling him. “And I know how.” He marched towards the door, face dark with determination.

  “No!” Ethan grabbed him by the shirt and pulled him back. “You can’t go out there. Connor is out there. He will kill you! For cutting him up before if nothing else.”

  Toby stared into Ethan’s eyes unblinking. “I know,” he told him with a nod. “But he’ll want to do it personally. He’ll stop them from attacking until he’s killed me. He’ll want everyone to watch. He’ll think it’s fun.” The truth was as clear as anything had ever been. “It will buy you time.”

  “No!” Joanna rushed to him. She stopped in her tracks when he glanced at her, eyes steely with courage.

  “I can’t let you sacrifice yourself like this!” Ethan grabbed him by the shoulders.

  He shook his head, peace settling over him. “You don’t understand, Ethan.” He was calm in the face of what he had to do. “You don’t understand. ‘Greater love hath no man than this’.” He took a step closer to his friend, his lord, his love, reached a hand out to cradle the side of his face. He tilted his head up to capture his mouth in one powerful, passionate kiss. Ethan’s lips were as warm as he’d always imagined they would be. He closed his eyes, savoring the taste of him, throat constricting. It was the moment he had waited for his entire life. Now it was over.

  He let go and took a step back, lowering his eyes so that he wouldn’t see Ethan’s face. He didn’t want to know what his reaction had been. Instead he reached for the door, pulling it open and stepping out into the clearing in front of the storehouse.

  “What?” Lydia snorted at the sight of him. “That’s it? They sent you?”

  “Yep.” He raised his eyes to meet Connor’s as he strode out into the center of the clearing. He heard the door of the storehouse shut behind him.

  “This is stupid,” Lydia heaved a sigh. “Kill him.”

  Several of the surrounding mercenaries raised their swords or crossbows but Connor hollered “Hold!” He laughed. “I’ve got a score to settle with this one, my lady. He’s the mouse who cut my face!” Connor cackled, showing off his scar to his men.

  It was just as Toby had predicted. He said a prayer of thanks, a prayer for Ethan’s soul.

  “We both know it’s me you really want,” he bluffed, buying as much time as he could. He didn’t dare let his eyes wander to the hillside where Tom and the army should appear. Not yet. “Let’s settle this right now.”

  “How long is this going to take?” Lydia crossed her arms, tapping her foot.

  “Not long at all, my lady, not long at all.” Connor continued to laugh and as he did his men echoed him.

  “Go ahead then.” Lydia waved them off and went to find somewhere to sit down.

  When Connor spun back to face Toby his eyes were alight with malice. “Honestly? I didn’t think you had it in you.”

  Toby raised his sword. He closed his eyes for a second and willed himself to remember all the fighting lessons that Ethan had given him. He needed to hold out long enough to allow Tom to get there. He didn’t need to win.

  Connor’s men laughed at his gesture but Connor himself only snarled and raised his sword. He lunged forward, aiming the blade at Toby’s gut. Sucking in a breath, Toby jumped into action. He parried the blow with all his strength, going through the sword forms in his mind as he brought his blade up and around to attempt an attack. Connor’s face twisted into an amused grin as he slashed at Toby’s side. Toby barely caught the blow in time, throwing it off with a grunt and stepping back to recover. He dared to glance up at the hill now. The hillside was empty.

  With a quick breath he adjusted his grip and charged. Connor dodged, slicing his blade along Toby’s arm as he passed. Toby yelped in pain but forced himself to regain his footing in time to make another attack. This time he sliced across Connor’s chest instead of thrusting. Connor deflected the blow and swung his own blade around to mirror the slice, ripping into Toby’s torso and tearing a gash across his chest.

  Toby shouted in surprise at the pain before wheeling around and trying yet another attack. He thrust at Connor’s left side. Laughing, Connor deflected the blow like it was nothing, catching Toby’s sword and yanking him off balance. As he stumbled Connor curled his arm around and jabbed his blade into Toby’s back. Toby’s eyes popped wide as he felt the blade enter.

  Pain radiated through his body, doubled when Connor wrenched the blade out and kicked him. He panted and stumbled, eyes wide with shock at just how much death hurt. He glanced over his shoulder to the hillside. It was still empty. He couldn’t die yet.

  He sucked in a few breaths, turning and forcing himself to raise his sword again, to make another pass at Connor. This time his blow was so weak and badly aimed it bounced off of Connor’s sword. Connor grinned and returned the attack by thrusting his blade into Toby’s gut.

  Toby grunted with the blinding pain and for a moment he thought he would pass out. He could feel the metal holding him upright, tearing him apart from the inside. The world was beginning to go black. He blinked and looked to the hillside. It was still empty.

  Connor yanked his sword out of Toby’s gut, expecting him to fall. When he didn’t, when he stood there reeling, blinking off into the distance as the color drained from his face, Connor lost his grin. “Come on, boy, this is embarrassing. Just die already!”

  He shook his head and mouthed the word “No.” He wasn’t sure if he could breathe anymore. His eyes were fixed on the hilltop. Sticky wetness ran down his body. They needed more time, Ethan needed more time. He swallowed and raised his sword, dragging his eyes from the hilltop to Connor. He could barely focus on the man. With all the strength he could muster he slashed. Connor easily avoided the blow.

  Face darkening in fury, Connor buried his sword in Toby’s chest. Toby gasped but his lungs had no room for air. He dropped his sword, unable to feel his arms. Tears stung at his eyes as they tried to roll back in his head. He couldn’t give in, not yet. His mouth filled with the sharp, metallic taste of blood and he felt it dribble down his chin.

  It took every last bit of effort for him to keep standing. He fought for his balance when he couldn’t fight for breath. He turned his hot, streaming eyes towards the hilltop again. They had to come. They had to be there. He had to buy them enough time to be saved. All he wanted was for Ethan to be saved. All he’d ever wanted. It couldn’t be in vain. His whole sad, pathetic life, his desperate, thwarted love, couldn’t have been in vain.

  “Give up already, man!” Connor shouted at him, stepping in close enough to push him over if he wanted to.

  He shook his head, tears stinging, swaying on the spot as blackness closed in around him, blackness mingled with light. His eyes stayed fixed on the hilltop. He didn’t see Connor raise his blade again and thrust it into his heart.

  “No! Toby!” Ethan’s frantic cry cut through the hush that had fallen on the watching men as the door to the storehouse clattered open.

  Toby didn’t think he’d heard right. He struggled to keep
his eyes from rolling back in his head, to keep the darkness from taking him. He stared hard, watching the hilltop even though the only thing keeping him upright was Connor’s blade through his heart. He couldn’t let Ethan down. Ethan needed him. One last time.

  In that moment he saw a swarm of dark shapes, sparkles of sunlight glittering off of raised weapons and polished armor. They surged over the hilltop like angel’s wings. They had come at last.

  At last.

  He closed his eyes with a smile of relief.

  He let go.

  Jack rushed out into the clearing as Connor jerked his blade out of Toby’s body, watching it crumple to the ground. Moments later Ethan lunged at the man. The force of the blow that pounded down on Connor was enough to send him reeling backwards. Connor thought fast, baring his teeth in a snarl and using Ethan’s momentum to trip him as he dodged out of the way. Ethan sprawled to the ground, the wind knocked out of him, losing his sword.

  Jack lunged after Connor but stopped short at the new, roaring cry that rose up from the hillside. He spun around in time to see the shining army of soldiers on horseback pouring down towards them from the hill.

  Connor’s eyes snapped wide and he searched for a way out. Ethan recovered and reclaimed his sword. He seized on Connor’s hesitation, jumping to his feet and charging. He slammed his sword into the bastard’s neck with so much fury that Connor’s severed head flew to the side and his body dropped. Ethan lost his sword and fell to his knees, hollow eyes staring at Toby’s body.

  “The orchard!” Lydia jumped up from her resting place in a panic and shouted to the men who still carried torches. She yanked one out of a goon’s hand and thrust it at the rows of trees herself. “Burn the orchard!”

  Jack heard the order and watched the men surge into action, horror mingling with hatred like nothing he had ever known. His orchard. Within seconds the first tree was alight. Rage filled him. They had burned his house, destroyed his village, killed his friends, but this was where it ended.