Defender of Hearts

by Tanya Bird

  The crowd quietened.

  ‘It was Queen Fayre who brought me here, hopeful that I could make a difference. She taught me the true meaning of strength, showed me how to be the queen you all needed.’ She coughed, tasting soot and ash. ‘She was not sitting idle. She was hard at work.’

  A man stepped forwards. ‘We don’t trust her.’

  Lyndal nodded. ‘I understand. But perhaps you trust me, and I swear to you that she wants to see the merchants thrive as much as I do.’

  ‘You think she’s going to care what happens to us now?’ the man asked. ‘We’re the reason her son is on that wall.’

  Lyndal looked to Fayre, who was not saying a word. ‘It’s true, she’s the king’s mother, and she’ll grieve the loss of her son like any mother would. But she’s also a queen, and one of the first things she taught me was to separate heart and mind.’ Her shoulders fell. ‘I wasn’t very good at it, but she’s exemplary.’

  Queen Fayre’s eyes creased at the corners.

  Lyndal faced the crowd again. ‘This woman will grieve and cry and fall down in the privacy of her quarters, but then she’ll get up and do what has to be done.’ She looked between their faces. ‘Prince Becket will be coming for his crown. Don’t you think the young prince has lost enough already?’ Seeing that last comment hit the mark, she added, ‘Don’t make him return to an empty home. Every merchant here knows that kind of pain.’

  She did not stop there.

  ‘And take her son down from the wall. That’s not who we are. The king has paid the price for his actions. Must his mother wait for the crows to arrive as we have all waited at some point?’

  Silence fell over the crowd. There was not a merchant present who had not witnessed the horror of seeing a loved one or neighbour get pecked apart by birds.

  ‘Let Queen Fayre lay out her son and bury him the way many of us couldn’t. That’s who we are. You all came here for change, not revenge.’

  It felt like a full minute passed before Lyndal heard a rope creak behind her. She turned as the king was lowered to the ground, the queen mother’s face contorting when he landed. Taking control of her emotions, Fayre finally addressed the merchants.

  ‘I am sorry for his death, but I am more sorry for his failure as your king. You all deserve a better leader, a better protector. I really hoped he would come to see that so I would never have to see this.’ She glanced over her shoulder, lips pressed tightly. ‘You owe my family and this kingdom nothing. You have endured more hardship in the past ten years than most can bear, but I am afraid I must ask more of you.’

  There was a shuffle of feet as they waited to see what she would say next. Lyndal exchanged a look with her sisters and drew a breath.

  ‘You are likely aware that King Edward’s army is outside our walls. It seems they intend to stay. While I do not know exactly what that would mean for Chadora, I do know there is not enough food for us as it is.’

  Birtle hobbled forwards, his wary eyes on the queen mother. ‘That’s because you lot have been selling it behind our backs.’

  ‘Your anger is not misplaced’ was Queen Fayre’s reply. She took a step forwards. ‘I know it is a big request, but I want to assure you that better times lie ahead for all of us. Prince Becket is not his brother. He is a young man with a lot of empathy and compassion. However, you will not get the chance to discover that if Chadora falls to England today.’

  ‘So what would you have us do?’ Birtle asked, arms crossed in front of him.

  Queen Fayre looked around. ‘Stand alongside our army. That means no more fighting within these walls. We need every defender protecting the boroughs and the rest of you ready to fight for your homes and families. You are the next line of defence.’

  The merchants looked between themselves.

  ‘Maybe we’ll be better off under King Edward’s reign,’ a woman called.

  Fayre found her in the crowd. ‘Perhaps. Or perhaps the English army will storm your village and slaughter your families. I cannot speak of the king’s intent.’

  A murmur of voices rolled through the crowd.

  ‘Can you promise we’ll see some of the food we’ll be laying our lives down for?’ Birtle asked, continuing to watch her with suspicion.

  Queen Fayre nodded. ‘I know it is not worth much to you at present, but you have my word.’

  With a hard sniff, Birtle turned to the other merchants. ‘You heard her. Pick up those swords and bows, and whatever else you have tucked underneath those threadbare clothes of yours, and get ready.’ He nodded at Lyndal before leaving.

  The merchants turned and followed him, walking back in the direction of the gate, leaving only the queen mother and the three sisters standing there. Blake and Eda wandered a short distance away in an attempt to give them some privacy, but no one spoke for the longest time.

  ‘This morning he was the King of Chadora,’ Fayre eventually said, her voice quiet. ‘Now he is just another muddy corpse.’

  Lyndal looked over to where Borin lay twisted on the ground with a noose still around his neck.

  ‘I know it is a great deal to ask…’ the queen mother began.

  ‘Of course I’ll help you,’ Lyndal said.

  Fayre’s eyes went to the tower, where smoke continued to pour from the windows. ‘Did he make it out?’

  Lyndal did not need to ask who she was talking about. ‘Yes, he made it out.’

  ‘Good,’ Fayre said, eyes returning to her son. ‘Good.’

  Lyndal walked over to Borin, swallowing down the rising nausea. She did not know whether to take his arms or his feet, and Queen Fayre had not made a move in either direction.

  Eda and Blake appeared, gently pushing Lyndal out of the way. They each took an end and lifted him.

  ‘Lead the way,’ Blake said.

  Lyndal gave her sister an appreciative smile, then went and threaded her arm through Fayre’s. She knew the queen was too proud to admit her legs were failing her. ‘Let’s go inside.’

  Chapter 38

  The defender at the farming gate looked Astin up and down, taking in his dishevelled appearance and filthy face. The uniform was the only reason he raised the portcullis. The fact that there was only one guard at the gate demonstrated how few soldiers they had on the ground.

  ‘Is it true?’ the guard asked. ‘Is the king dead?’

  Astin nodded.

  The defender did not seem surprised—or emotional, for that matter.

  ‘I’m looking for Cooper Brooke,’ Astin said. ‘He left the borough earlier to meet with someone on the other side of the wall. Do you know if he’s returned to the borough?’

  ‘Never heard of him. You’ll have to speak with the guards at the north gate, but they’re not opening for anyone right now given the English army is parked just out of shooting range.’

  ‘The fight hasn’t begun?’

  ‘And no one’s interested in talking either.’

  What were they waiting for? It made no sense. Every minute the English delayed their attack was another minute of preparation for their own army. If they were expecting Chadora to surrender, someone would have surely mentioned it by now. Unless they were waiting for the war inside to play out first. With the king dead and the people divided, it would be less of a war and more of a taking control of the reins.

  The realisation hit Astin like a rock to the head.

  Cooper had probably leaked the news of livestock being sold outside the wall himself, knowing the outcome. The bastard had let the merchants do his dirty work for him. God only knew what other surprises he had in store. Astin needed to get his family somewhere safe until he figured out exactly what was at play.

  Nodding at the defender, he took off at a run in the direction of the farm and did not stop until he reached it. He went wide, approaching from the back of the house just to be safe, and kept out of sight, listening for clues as to who was inside. Cooper’s horse was missing from the paddock, but there was a quietness to the place he did not trus
t, so he proceeded with caution.

  Approaching the window, he peeked inside and saw his mother in her chair, staring hard at her sewing. Presley and Rose were seated at the table preparing vegetables. But something looked off.

  A man stepped into view and glanced at the window.

  Astin pressed himself against the wall as footsteps drew closer. His hand rested on his weapon.

  That was no farmer. That was a soldier.

  The problem was he was not one of theirs.

  He struggled to figure out how there was an English soldier inside the borough and yet no one else seemed aware of the fact.

  There was only one way to get answers.

  Grabbing hold of the top of the window, Astin swung his legs through and dropped into the room, drawing his sword as he landed. He pointed it at the English soldier as he turned.

  ‘Someone start talking.’

  His mother rose from her chair, gripping tightly to her sewing. Presley moved to stand in front of Rose.

  ‘No one says a word,’ the soldier said, his weapon only half drawn.

  Presley looked from the guard to Astin. ‘They’re already in the borough, hundreds of them.’

  When the soldier turned his head to look at her, Astin pressed the tip of his sword to the man’s neck. ‘Eyes on me.’

  The balding man looked back at Astin.

  ‘There’s an entrance on the east wall,’ Presley said. ‘I doubt even the warden knows of it. The king had it built to get the livestock out—’ She swallowed nervously. ‘—and now Cooper’s using it to get the enemy in.’

  Astin’s eyes were fixed on the soldier. ‘And now a question for you. What are you doing in my family’s home?’

  The man’s face hardened. ‘That’s not your business.’

  ‘Wrong answer.’ Astin lunged forwards, cutting the man’s throat before he had a chance to get his sword the rest of the way out. He caught the soldier, dragging him to the door and throwing him outside to save the floors.

  His mother watched the dying man through the open door while Rose clung to a pale-faced Presley.

  ‘There will be more of them,’ Presley said.

  Astin had to get his family out of the borough—fast. ‘Saddle the horses. Let’s move.’

  ‘Cooper said they wouldn’t hurt us if we cooperated,’ his mother said, not moving.

  Astin blinked slowly. ‘I’d hoped you might have realised by now that you can’t believe a thing that comes out of that man’s mouth.’

  ‘If he comes back and we’re gone—’

  ‘Mother,’ Presley said, tone firm. ‘The borough will soon be overrun by soldiers. We’re going with Astin.’

  Lari placed her sewing on the chair behind her and nodded. ‘All right.’

  The moment Astin stepped outside, he stopped, lifting a hand to his family behind him. Everyone froze, ears straining as they listened.

  ‘Horses coming our way,’ Presley said.

  They were moving at a gallop. He guessed around six of them.

  ‘Stay inside,’ he instructed. He loaded his bow and swung it in the direction of the horses as they came into sight. There was Cooper flanked by English soldiers in helmets, chain mail, and steel chest plates. Astin took aim at his stepfather.

  ‘I wouldn’t do that,’ Cooper called, gesturing past him.

  Astin’s eyes flicked over his shoulder as another horse appeared from behind the house, an arrow trained on him. He was tempted to shoot his stepfather anyway, but he was not sure how the soldiers would react, and he could not protect his family if he was dead.

  He lowered his bow.

  ‘Last I heard you were locked in a tower,’ Cooper said, pulling his horse up a few yards from the house and looking down at the dead body at Astin’s feet. ‘Did the king have a change of heart?’

  ‘The king’s dead,’ Astin replied. ‘But I’m guessing you already knew that.’

  Cooper watched him a moment. ‘I think even you would agree it was time for a change in leadership. King Edward is not his father. Any defender who lays down their weapons and bends the knee will be spared.’ He paused. ‘I doubt the merchants will take much convincing when they realise he already has control of the food. Troops are securing the farms as we speak.’

  Astin slowly shook his head. ‘You absolute traitor.’

  ‘Soon to be Lord Traitor.’

  Every muscle in Astin’s body was tense. ‘Do you honestly think anyone’s going to respect that title?’

  ‘Not at first, but they will when they realise I’ve given Chadora a king fit to rule.’

  ‘All you’re doing is giving away our food. Nothing more. Nothing less.’

  Cooper let out a breath and walked his horse forwards. ‘Surely you understand that letting you live would be a big mistake. You’ll fight me the whole way.’

  That was true. He would.

  ‘Don’t. Please,’ Presley said, stepping out of the house.

  Astin calmly raised his hands, not wanting any arrows flying his way while his sister was outside. ‘Presley, get back inside.’

  ‘No.’

  He looked over his shoulder. ‘Inside, now.’

  She turned when she felt a tug on her dress. There was Rose looking up at her with pleading eyes. Presley snatched her up and carried her inside.

  Astin heard the release of an arrow, a familiar noise he would recognise anywhere. There were things he could have done in that moment to save his own life, but to what end for those inside the house? He pressed his eyes shut, readying for the searing pain.

  I’m sorry, he told Lyndal as she filled his thoughts. He would have done anything to spare her the grief of his death.

  He flinched at the sickening thud of arrows hitting flesh, waiting for the explosion of pain that would spread like liquid through him. A scream rang out, but it did not come from him. His eyes snapped open, and he found his mother next to him, an arrow protruding from her chest. She looked down as her knees buckled, and Astin caught her, lowering her the rest of the way to the ground.

  Another scream sounded, and he realised it was coming from Rose.

  ‘Mama!’

  Presley stood frozen in the doorway, face slack, holding tightly to her daughter.

  Astin’s eyes burned as he crouched over his mother. It was not supposed to end like this. Her protection had come far too late, and his forgiveness not at all.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ she breathed, eyes fixed on him and voice gurgling.

  He had seen death up close before, but the sight of his mother desperate for exoneration as she struggled to draw breath almost broke him. He was supposed to say ‘I forgive you’. That was the correct response. But the words stuck in his throat. Instead, he gave her the next best thing he could. Bringing his face close to hers, he said, ‘Father’s waiting for you.’

  Lari’s mouth turned up slightly as she exhaled and fell still. Her chest did not rise again.

  Presley dropped to her knees, and Rose slipped from her hands, running over to the woman she had called “mama” her whole life.

  ‘Look what you’ve done,’ Cooper snarled, jumping down from his horse.

  Astin lifted his gaze to his stepfather, then said to Rose, ‘I need you to go inside with your sister. Can you do that for me?’

  Presley was already at his side, pulling the girl away and dragging her towards the house.

  Astin was not going to play nice anymore.

  Reaching for the knife strapped to his calf, he shot to his feet, throwing it at the soldier who had killed his mother. It struck him just above his steel chest plate. The moment the knife left his hand, Astin was reaching for his bow. The other soldiers drew their weapons now, but they were no match for a defender. Astin released five consecutive arrows—and he did not miss. The men cried out, two slipping from their saddles and slamming into the ground. None of them would be any help to his stepfather now.

  Cooper’s breaths came a little faster. He should have stayed on his horse. He l
ooked around, weighing up his options.

  ‘There’s nowhere you can go right now that I won’t follow, you sack of shit.’

  Astin dropped the bow and walked towards him, eyes flicking to the soldiers to make sure none of them were going to try anything cunning. But it was Cooper who tried to be clever. He drew a knife, deluded enough to think Astin was going to let him use it. Astin punched it from his hand and grabbed Cooper by his tunic, throwing him to the ground. His stepfather wheezed as the air was knocked from his lungs. Astin dropped a knee onto Cooper’s chest and drew his sword. Cooper struggled for a moment, then fell still when he felt the blade against his neck.

  ‘Go on, then. Do it,’ his stepfather growled, sending a spray of spit in Astin’s direction. ‘You’ll finally get to feel like a man.’

  Astin looked into his eyes, hoping to see remorse, or at the very least fear. But all he saw was hate. ‘You think I need to hurt you to feel like a man? That’s where you went wrong in life. Hurting people doesn’t make you a man, it makes you an arsehole.’

  Cooper strained beneath him, but he was no match for Astin.

  ‘Get it done!’ he shouted.

  Astin stared down at him, not speaking for the longest time. Then, removing the blade from his neck, he took hold of Cooper’s wrist, pinning him in place. ‘You don’t get an easy death. First, you must pay for her death,’ he said, nodding towards his mother. ‘Then all the cruelty, every beating.’ He leaned closer. ‘And every time you forced yourself on my sister.’ He squeezed the wrists tighter. ‘Then you’ll pay for every merchant who has died because you gave away their food.’

  Finally, some fear in his stepfather’s eyes.

  A horn sounded, a deep noise that vibrated around them. The sound of fighting carried on the breeze.

  ‘You might have missed your chance,’ Cooper said, his lips turning up. ‘Here come the English.’

  Astin looked to the road as a stampede of feet whispered along the ground to them. ‘It’s you who’s missed your chance.’ He looked his stepfather in the eye. ‘Because here come the merchants.’

  Panic filled Cooper’s face, and he turned his head in an effort to see. Hundreds of merchants appeared on the horizon, clutching swords and homemade weapons. Astin rolled his stepfather onto his stomach, removing Cooper’s belt and binding his hands together behind his back.