Defender of Hearts

by Tanya Bird

  ‘I just came from there,’ Borin said, ‘and I am sorry to inform you that there was a small incident.’

  A loud bang on the door behind them made Lyndal jump and Eda glance over her shoulder.

  ‘A bit of a tragedy really,’ Borin continued, as though hundreds of merchants were not standing on the other side of the doors waiting for their chance to get him.

  ‘What did you do?’ Lyndal asked, her stomach falling.

  He tutted. ‘You merchants love to blame me for everything.’

  Bang.

  Lyndal flinched at the noise. ‘For years, Fletcher has protected you with his life.’

  A nod. ‘Yes. Then you came along, and now suddenly everyone wishes me dead.’

  ‘I’m afraid I can’t take credit for that. People wished you dead long before I was lured here to help clean up your mess.’

  ‘Well, I tried to rectify that—twice.’ Borin’s eyes flashed. ‘Fletcher was determined to protect you with equal enthusiasm.’

  Lyndal’s lungs expelled all the air they were holding. ‘Oh. It was you.’

  Eda looked up at her, confused.

  ‘The fire, then the poison.’ She pressed a hand to her stomach as the new information settled. ‘All that effort when all you had to do was tell your mother no.’

  Bang.

  Borin’s eyes went past her to the door. ‘My mother’s logic was sound. I cannot fault her there. The merchants were in love with the idea of us. I had no choice but to play along.’

  Bang.

  She shook her head. ‘Then why try to burn me alive?’

  He took a step in her direction, and she took a step back.

  ‘Better to win their sympathy than break their hearts.’

  Bang.

  ‘You are vile,’ she said, taking another step towards the door.

  Borin pointed a finger at her. ‘And you are lucky to still be talking, because I am fed up with your mouth. The only reason my guards have not sliced you open already is because I made a promise to my mother, and I am a man of my word.’ His eyes went to Eda. ‘Of course, I made no such promise about you.’

  Eda revealed the knife and did the most remarkable thing she had done in years: she spoke.

  ‘Good luck with that.’

  Lyndal sucked in a breath when she heard her sister’s voice. It was the sweetest form of music. No heart had been hit harder after their father’s death than Eda’s. The tiny shadow had lost its person the day he died. Her voice was no longer that of a child but of a confident young woman. It was remarkable and frightening all at once.

  ‘She speaks,’ Borin said, amused. ‘Is that knife for me?’ When she did not reply, he said, ‘Do you know what happens to people who kill kings?’

  Eda raised her chin. ‘Your father’s killer went on to live a long and happy life.’

  The darkness that descended Borin’s face was chilling. ‘Kill her,’ he instructed. ‘And take Lyndal to my quarters.’

  There was not a chance in hell either of those things were happening.

  One of the guards came for her, but before he had taken his second step, Eda threw her knife, striking his sword arm. The defender grunted and dropped his weapon. The king’s eyes widened slightly. Clearly he had not been expecting that level of skill from her.

  Door, Eda signed as she shook another knife from the sleeve of her dress.

  Lyndal leapt in the direction of the exit, praying her sister had the situation under control behind her.

  ‘If you open it, you will kill us all,’ Borin shouted

  Lyndal looked back as she took hold of the drawbar, watching as the second knife flew between two of the guards, striking the king in the leg.

  He roared.

  The door banged once more, the noise vibrating through Lyndal. The drawbar was too heavy.

  ‘Eda!’

  Her sister was at her side a moment later, throwing her shoulder into it and pushing as hard as she could while two defenders came at them.

  ‘Don’t fret, Your Grace,’ Lyndal called when the drawbar finally budged. ‘The merchants will show you the same compassion you’ve shown them.’

  The women tossed the wooden plank at the defenders as the doors burst open and merchants poured in like floodwater. The guards were swept back with the force of the deluge. Lyndal and Eda pressed themselves against the wall, then squeezed around its edges.

  ‘I need to get to the tower,’ Lyndal shouted, but her words were drowned out by King Borin’s screams.

  Chapter 37

  The castle grounds were swarming with merchants. No one looked twice at the two women moving in the opposite direction with their unkempt hair and worn clothes. They were there for one reason only: to knock the monster off his throne.

  ‘What are we going to do about them?’ Lyndal asked, pointing to the handful of defenders atop the wall shooting at merchants below.

  Eda tripped, and when the girls looked down to see what she had fallen over, they found a dead merchant man clutching his longbow. Without hesitating, Eda snatched it from his hands.

  We need to keep moving, she signed.

  The habit of signing in place of speech would take time to break.

  As they ran towards the gate, they pulled arrows from corpses. Lyndal watched the defenders atop the wall carefully, praying their bows would not swing in their direction, because she knew they would not miss. They stopped beneath the archway to regroup, looking in the direction of the tower. Lyndal’s breath caught when she spotted smoke pouring from the windows of the circular structure.

  Astin.

  Go, Eda signed. I’ll cover you.

  Lyndal took off at a sprint towards the tower, leaping over bodies, her dress snagging on weapons. Her wet skirt tangled on her legs, and she fell, slamming into the mud just as an arrow whistled overhead. She watched it pierce the ground in front of her, knowing another would follow.

  A hand wrapped her arm, pulling her to her feet. She came face to face with Blake, and her eyes widened.

  ‘What are you—’

  ‘Move!’ Eda shouted behind them, jogging backwards while shooting at defenders atop the wall.

  Blake grabbed Lyndal by the arm and pulled her in the direction of the tower. ‘She spoke!’

  ‘A very recent thing,’ Lyndal shouted back, holding up her dress to prevent another fall.

  They stopped once they were out of shooting range, eyes sweeping the outer-wall to ensure there were no more arrows pointed in their direction.

  ‘What are you doing here?’ Lyndal asked Blake, her breaths coming in heaves.

  Blake held her knees. ‘You didn’t think I was going to let you two have all the fun, did you?’

  ‘What about Mother?’

  ‘She’s with our aunt.’ Blake straightened.

  Lyndal looked up at the tower, the smell of smoke making her sweat. ‘Astin’s inside. I’m going to get him out.’ She headed for the tower.

  ‘What?’ Blake ran after her. ‘It’s on fire. You can’t just walk into a burning building.’

  Lyndal did not slow. ‘Why not? He did it for me once.’

  She heard Eda swear behind her. Not overly surprising that some of her first words in years would be ones that should never come from a lady’s mouth.

  Eda caught her arm just before she entered. The guards hang the keys on the wall.

  It was the one advantage of having a sister who had once been locked in there.

  ‘This is madness,’ Blake said. ‘The smoke alone will kill you.’

  Lyndal drew a breath, preparing to enter.

  ‘Fine,’ Blake said, ‘I’m going in with you.’ She pointed at Eda. ‘You stay right here—no matter what.’

  Lyndal pressed the crook of her arm to her nose and mouth, nodded at Blake, and then the sisters ran into the smoke-filled doorway. The haze made the darkness even more unsettling. Lyndal blinked against it as she took Blake’s hand and pulled her through the smoke in what she hoped was the direction o
f the stairwell. Relief pulsed through her when her foot hit the first step. Then they were climbing as fast as they could.

  ‘Open the door. Please’ came a voice that did not belong to Astin. ‘Let us out!’

  In her rush to get to Astin, Lyndal had almost forgotten that there were other prisoners locked in the tower. The king had done this knowing others would die also.

  Blake waved her sister forwards. ‘Go. I’ll catch up.’

  Lyndal nodded and drew her first breath. Her throat closed in protest. She hurried on, coughing into her arm. Her shins smashed into the edges of the steps as she misjudged their location over and over, but she continued forwards, checking each cell she passed. Whenever she heard a cough, she made a mental note to return for them on the way down.

  ‘Astin!’

  Panic was setting in. She called for him, knowing it was a terrible waste of air and energy but unable to stop herself. He was probably already dead.

  Where is the fire?

  As she continued to climb, she got her answer. The smoke glowed an eerie orange up ahead, and the wall felt hot beneath her hand as she steadied herself.

  ‘Astin!’

  Flames appeared, climbing one wall and reaching all the way to the roof.

  ‘Lyndal?’

  She was so relieved when she heard his voice that she began to cry. He was alive. Now she just had to get him out.

  Holding her breath once more, she ran towards the flames, the heat from them almost knocking her backwards. She passed just out of reach of them and fell to her knees in front of Astin’s cell. He crawled to her on his stomach.

  ‘Get right down,’ he instructed. ‘The cleanest air is closest to the ground.’

  She coughed as she reached for him. ‘Where are the keys?’

  She knew from the look on his face that there were no keys.

  ‘You need to leave—now. The damp walls in here are the only reason I’m not burning, but they’re drying out, and the fire will spread.’

  She shook her head. ‘I’m not leaving without you.’

  ‘Yes you are.’ He coughed, his chest wheezing. ‘Crawl to the stairwell, then get down those steps as fast as you can.’

  Again, she shook her head.

  ‘Stop telling me no and leave!’

  She looked around, thick smoke in all directions. ‘There has to be a way.’

  ‘There’s no time. Think about your sisters.’

  She gripped him through the bars, crying.

  He kissed both of her hands. ‘I love you. Don’t let your death be the last thing I see. It’s senseless.’ He coughed long and hard into his arm.

  Dropping her head to the bars, she knew he was right.

  Arms wrapped her middle, lifting her. Lyndal turned to see Blake’s soot-covered face.

  ‘There’s no key,’ Lyndal said, a sob tearing from her. ‘I can’t get him out.’

  Blake’s eyes were raw from the smoke, tears rolling down her face. ‘I’m so sorry,’ she told Astin. She coughed, and it was so violent Lyndal felt it through her own body.

  ‘Take her,’ Astin said, bloodshot eyes pleading with Blake.

  A thought came to Lyndal as she was pulled away. ‘Wait!’ She reached up and pulled two pins from her sister’s hair. If Harlan knew how to pick a lock using pins, then maybe Astin did too.

  ‘We have to go,’ Blake said, her voice unrecognisable.

  Lyndal pulled free and stumbled back to Astin, pressing the pins into his hands and closing his fingers around them. The room spun, and she fell forwards, her cheek smashing into the bars.

  ‘Get up,’ she heard Astin say. ‘I’ll be right behind you.’

  She looked up at him to see if he was telling the truth but could no longer see him through the smoke. Then Blake was dragging her away.

  Heat hit her once more, flames ahead of them, above them. The stairwell seemed like an impossible target. When Blake hesitated, Lyndal knew it was time to take charge. She tugged her sister’s hood up over her head and face, knowing the wool would protect her, then ran for the stairwell, turning her own face away from the flames.

  They part ran, part fell all the way to the bottom of the steps, then headed for the light. The second they emerged outside, Lyndal said to Eda, ‘Take her.’ Then she took a few steps and threw up.

  ‘Where’s Astin?’ she heard Eda ask.

  Lyndal pressed her eyes shut and threw up again. Eda appeared at her side, pulling her away from the smoke, away from the tower. Away from him. That was when she noticed the prisoners nearby. Blake had gotten them out before coming for her.

  ‘I’m so sorry,’ her sister said, coughing and crying.

  She had nothing to apologise for. The choice was one of them dying or both of them dying, but she knew Blake would see his death as her own personal failure.

  Lyndal shook her head and wrapped her arms around Blake. ‘Don’t. He’s coming. He said he’d be right behind me.’ She was trembling so badly she had no idea how she was standing.

  Eda looked in the direction of the door, her expression doubtful. All three of them stared at it for what felt like twenty minutes but was probably more like twenty seconds.

  Twenty eternal seconds.

  ‘There,’ Eda said as a figure came staggering out into the daylight, coughing and gasping.

  Lyndal ran to him, flew to him, leading him away from the smoke, then taking hold of his blackened face while crying.

  ‘It’s all right,’ Astin said, his voice hoarse. His reddened eyes met hers. ‘I’m all right.’

  She wrapped her arms around his middle while he continued to cough. ‘Thank God.’ When she drew back to look at him, she saw his gaze had drifted to the castle.

  ‘They actually did it,’ he croaked.

  Lyndal turned just as a corpse was hoisted up the wall by the neck. Not just any corpse—the king. Knowing he was dead was one thing, but seeing it was something else. There was no sense of victory, and it was too early for hope. She felt only relief knowing King Borin would never harm another merchant again.

  ‘I need to go to the farming borough,’ Astin said, coughing into his arm. ‘Cooper’s the reason we’re in this mess, and I need to get my sisters and mother out of the borough.’

  ‘I’ll come with you,’ Lyndal said straight away.

  He shook his head. ‘I need you all to go to the nobility borough. You’ll be safest there.’

  Blake chewed her lip, then asked, ‘Do you happen to know where Harlan is?’

  Astin glanced at her. ‘North wall. I’m guessing he thinks you’re safely in the nobility borough?’

  Blake shrugged. ‘I’m probably safer here due to recent events.’

  Astin blinked slowly. ‘Remind me not to be present for that reunion.’ He wandered off to collect the weapons from a nearby corpse.

  ‘You’re in no condition to fight,’ Lyndal said, following him.

  He strapped on the sword and slung the quiver and longbow over one shoulder. Coughing, he said, ‘It’s just a precaution.’ He cupped her face with one hand. ‘Promise me you’ll go to the nobility borough.’

  Nobody spoke—or met his eyes.

  He looked between them. ‘None of you are going, are you?’

  ‘I doubt they would let us in anyway,’ Lyndal said. ‘We’ll meet in the merchant borough when this is over.’

  Astin searched her eyes, stifling a cough. ‘I need to know you’re safe.’

  Lyndal gestured to her sisters. ‘You of all people should know it’s not the location but the company.’

  His hand fell away. ‘I’ll come find you as soon as I can.’

  Lyndal watched him jog off in the direction of the gate. A bad feeling enveloped her, but she did not get time to indulge it, because then Blake said, ‘Is that Queen Fayre?’

  Lyndal’s eyes snapped in the direction of the castle wall. And there she was. No guard in sight and surrounded by merchants. Lyndal’s heart sank as the queen mother was confronted by the sight of he
r own son hanging on the wall. Her feet were moving before her mind had a chance to catch up. ‘We have to make sure they don’t hurt her.’

  Eda and Blake rushed after Lyndal.

  Why? Eda signed. She locked you in your bedchamber.

  Blake’s eyes widened. ‘She locked you in your bedchamber?’

  ‘It sounds bad out of context,’ Lyndal replied. ‘It’s not like she set it alight.’

  The king did though. Eda sneered.

  Blake moved in front of Lyndal, blocking her path. ‘The king lit that fire?’

  Lyndal stepped around her. ‘He also tried to poison me, but let’s not dwell on the past.’

  ‘Tell me how you got that cut on your throat,’ Blake demanded, matching her stride.

  Knife to the throat, Eda signed.

  Blake was fuming now. ‘He’s lucky he’s already dead. You don’t owe that woman anything. You know that, right?’

  Lyndal met her eyes. ‘She doesn’t deserve to die for his sins.’

  When they reached the castle wall, the girls pushed their way through the crowd of merchants pressed in tightly for a close-up view of the dead king. Lyndal tried not to look up. She did not want to see his lifeless eyes, the red and purple face painted with blood. It had not been a quick or painless death.

  ‘We should string her up with him!’ someone shouted. ‘She’s proven where her loyalties lie.’

  Lyndal’s eyes met the queen mother’s as she emerged at the front of the crowd. Fayre gave her a resigned smile, like she had already accepted her fate. The woman had birthed a monster—there was no denying it. But his choices were not her fault. Making her pay for them was unfair. She had done her best, even if at times her best had fallen short.

  Lyndal turned to the unruly crowd. ‘Have you forgotten all this woman has done for us? She saved our lives that day in the square. She took a stand against her own son when he instructed his army to shoot us down like rabid dogs.’

  ‘And hasn’t spoken a word on our behalf since,’ a woman shouted. ‘While we’ve watched our loved ones starve and suffer.’

  Lyndal stood her ground. ‘She’s been making a plan to end your suffering. I can attest to it, because I was the plan.’