Defender of Hearts by Tanya Bird

Chapter 10

‘What in God’s name happened here last night?’ Harlan asked, dropping onto the seat beside Astin.

The bodyguard looked up from his bowl. ‘And good morning to you too.’

‘“Absolute carnage” were my father’s words.’

Astin looked around the mess hall to check no one else was listening. ‘Didn’t help that I was half-cooked when I became aware of the fact.’

Harlan watched him a moment. ‘I’m glad you were nearby for Lyndal’s sake. I was going to call on her but figured she needed some sleep after last night’s festivities.’

Astin pushed his empty bowl aside and rose. ‘I’m about to head there now.’

Harlan followed him out of the mess hall and into the morning fog. ‘Now I have the fun job of telling Blake that people were slaughtered at the dinner her sister attended last night.’

‘Shame I’m too busy to bear witness.’

‘Warden tells me Queen Fayre requested Kendra and Lyndal remain here under your protection.’

‘More fun news to pass on to your wife.’ He tugged the hood of his cloak up. ‘Did your father also tell you it was the king’s idea? I saved his arse last night, and then five minutes later he’s pretending he doesn’t need me.’

‘Probably wants you out of the way so he can conduct his shifty business with your stepfather.’

It was meant as a joke, but the thought had crossed Astin’s mind.

‘Just make sure that bruised ego of yours doesn’t interfere with your new responsibilities,’ Harlan said.

Astin stopped walking. ‘Bruised ego? Are you drunk?’

Harlan stopped a few paces ahead and turned. ‘I know you. You don’t handle rejection well.’

‘One can’t reject something that’s not on offer.’

Harlan laughed. ‘Admit it. It kills you that she doesn’t swoon when you walk into a room like other women.’

‘I’ll admit it bothers me that she gets up and leaves.’

‘Because you normally walk in and say something like “What happened to your hair?”’

‘A joke.’

‘And what about the time she was nice enough to cook you dinner and you asked if she dropped the pork into the salt bag?’

‘Another joke.’

‘It was quail, by the way.’

‘I know it was quail. That’s why it was funny.’ He threw his hands up. ‘Eda laughed.’

Harlan exhaled. ‘That’s your comedic gauge? I once saw that girl use a decapitated chicken as a puppet.’

The youngest Suttone sister was not without her quirks.

‘The point is,’ Astin finished, ‘Lyndal’s hair is always immaculate, and she’s a solid cook. I make jokes because we all know they’re jokes.’

Before Harlan could reply, the warden called to him from ten feet away. ‘Is there a reason you are out here with Wright instead of doing your job, Fletcher?’

Both men turned. Then Harlan looked back at Astin, waiting for his response.

‘There’s a guard patrolling the west corridor, sir,’ Astin called. ‘The ladies know not to leave their room without an escort.’

Shapur’s scowl deepened. ‘Is that why the Suttone girl is wandering around the castle by herself at present?’

Astin’s blood heated a few degrees. ‘Perhaps I wasn’t clear last night when I gave very specific instructions. I’ll go there now.’

Harlan looked down at the ground in an attempt to hide his growing smile.

‘Perhaps a clearer conversation is in order,’ Shapur replied before walking off.

‘Yes, sir,’ Astin called to his back.

The second he was out of earshot, Astin shoved Harlan. ‘Don’t you have new recruit arses to wipe?’

Harlan only laughed as he walked off in the direction of the training yard.

Wallis, the kitchen maid, blinked in confusion. ‘You want the whole jar?’

Lyndal stepped past Wallis to where jars of fermented cabbage sat in a neat row on the bench. ‘Four jars should be enough.’

‘Enough for what, miss?’

‘Yes, enough for what?’ came a stern male voice.

Lyndal almost dropped one of the jars as she spun around to meet Astin’s thunderous stare. She found a smile for him. ‘Oh, there you are.’

‘Here I am.’ He crossed his arms, waiting for an explanation.

‘I forgot to mention that I’m an early riser,’ she said, placing the jar she was holding back on the bench.

‘So am I’ was his rather unhappy reply. ‘If you wanted to visit the kitchen, you should have sent the defender on duty to fetch me, or at the very least had him accompany you.’

‘To the kitchen for some cabbage? That seems a tad dramatic.’

Astin reached her in a few strides, his tall frame looming over her. She made a point of not stepping back.

‘This castle was attacked a few hours ago.’ His voice was a growl. ‘I thought you were supposed to be the sensible sister.’

She was very aware of the height difference in that moment. ‘I am the sensible sister.’

‘Then follow the few simple rules in place for your safety.’

Conscious of Wallis frozen in place watching them, she said, ‘If I apologise, can we move on?’

‘Spare me the empty apology and just do as you’re told next time.’ He finally stepped back from her.

‘Very well,’ Lyndal mumbled as she turned away from his glare to face Wallis. ‘Might you have a basket?’

The kitchen maid glanced nervously at Astin before walking to the other side of the room to fetch one.

The defender picked up one of the jars and turned it in his hands. ‘The queen’s carriage will be out front in half an hour. Where’s Lady Kendra?’

‘Dressing.’ Lyndal took the jar from him and placed it in the basket. Looking down at her blue dress, she asked, ‘What does one wear when accompanying the queen mother to visit the sick?’

He stared down at her, not speaking for an unsettling amount of time. ‘Are you seriously asking me for fashion advice?’

Rolling her eyes, she brushed past him. ‘Forget it.’

‘Lyndal,’ he called after her.

She stopped and turned back to him with a tired expression. He looked very uncomfortable suddenly.

‘That dress is elegant and practical,’ he said. ‘It’s a fine choice.’

The corners of her mouth lifted. ‘Was that really so hard?’

Astin followed the carriage on horseback, through the gate and into the lazaretto borough, located in the heart of the kingdom. Kendra sat opposite Queen Fayre, discussing the dire food situation in Ireland, trying to sound worldly. The queen mother’s silence was a solid indication the strategy was not working.

Lyndal was by the window, holding on to her basket of cabbage, seemingly tuned out of the conversation. Her gaze was fixed on the rows and rows of graves, many of them fresh in that part of the borough. He knew her father and brother were buried somewhere—as was his own father. He made a point of not looking, because the visual of his father’s grave never seemed to get any easier.

‘What do you think, Lyndal?’ the queen mother asked, pulling her into the conversation.

Astin’s eyes should have been on his surroundings, but he found himself watching for her reply instead. Her blonde hair was pinned back and threaded with blue ribbon. She played with the end of it as she stared at the queen blankly.

‘We were discussing the loss of livestock in Ireland,’ Kendra said, helping her out.

Lyndal nodded. ‘Yes. Any loss of livestock is tragic. But at least without walls, the Irish are free to hunt and fish wherever they please.’

Astin wished he could have seen the queen’s face after that response.

‘The absence of walls makes it easy for thieves,’ Kendra said, ‘and is the reason their animals got sick in the first place.’

‘And yet, I’ve not heard of one Irishman requesting a wall be built,’ Lyndal replied.

‘Because they do not know any better.’

Lyndal looked away. ‘Or perhaps they’ve learned from our mistakes.’

Queen Fayre spoke up at that. ‘What is the answer, then?’

Lyndal’s eyes went to her. ‘I think history has proven, quite definitively, that no one cares for the opinion of a merchant on this subject.’

‘But you are not like them,’ Kendra said. ‘You are just as much one of us as you are one of them.’

Lyndal’s eyes met Astin’s, and he saw how much that statement pierced her. She might have had meat back on her bones and some nicer dresses, but he understood that every inch of that beating heart was merchant. She had lived in that borough her entire life. Starved, suffered, grieved in it. She wore the trauma of that existence like a crown of thorns.

Astin pushed his horse into a trot and rode ahead of the carriage and other guards, past the muddy gravesites, stopping at the leaning huts at the far end. They were more like shelters built for animals. Risk of harm to those in his charge was low, but he still treated every man, woman, and child he passed with the same suspicion he would when guarding the king.

Wasting people emerged from the huts, pale-faced and wary. Mothers held tightly to the hands of children, relaxing a little when they laid eyes on Queen Fayre. She represented hope for a broken system. Her timely return to Chadora had made her somewhat of a hero.

The queen mother was first to exit the carriage when it rolled to a stop. As she stepped down, her eyes moved along the line of people staring back at her. There was no hiding her shock at the conditions these people were living in. Kendra was next, taking one look at the sick, then anchoring her feet where she landed. Lyndal looked like any other noblewoman as she elegantly took the driver’s hand and joined her cousin on the ground. The flash of shock on her face was quickly replaced with a convincing smile as she moved towards the merchants.

Astin gestured for Kendra to follow, and she reluctantly moved to his side, using him as a barrier between herself and the sick.

‘You don’t need to hover the entire visit,’ Lyndal whispered at Astin over her shoulder.

Normally the breeze in the lazaretto borough carried the smell of death, but Lyndal’s floral scent seemed to have taken over the air.

‘That’s the point of a guard,’ he replied without looking at her.

She slowed her pace. ‘Must you look so serious, then? You’re scaring people.’

Now he looked at her. ‘Good.’

The queen mother wandered the length of the line, bowing her head and pausing occasionally to speak with people. She managed to maintain a sensible distance without being obvious about the fact. Kendra tried to mimic her gestures, holding a smile that did not quite reach her eyes.

Then there was Lyndal.

She walked straight up to the woman at the end of the line, taking hold of her hand and asking questions. Then she pulled one of the jars out of her basket and handed it to her. ‘Share it around. You only need a spoonful each morning. The symptoms should start to settle within a few days.’

‘What on earth is she doing?’ Kendra whispered to Astin. ‘Some of these people are literally bleeding from the mouth, and she just marches up and touches them.’

Astin’s eyes never left Lyndal. ‘It’s scurvy. It’s not contagious.’

‘We do not know that. The king has isolated them for a reason.’

Yes, because he’s an idiot, Astin thought. He said nothing as he followed Lyndal along the line, watching as she took hold of icy hands, squeezing encouragingly as she chatted away.

Towards the end, she crouched in front of a young boy, brushing hair off his face. His eyes were bloodshot, his gums swollen and protruding from his mouth.

‘I don’t like cabbage,’ the boy said, his cracked lips stained with blood.

Lyndal tilted her head. ‘You know, I’m not very fond of it either, but it’s going to help you get better.’

Her genuine desire to help these people had Astin squinting in the other direction for fear she would see the admiration on his face.

Lyndal handed the final jar to a young girl with red curls springing in all directions. Pulling the blue ribbon from her own hair, she combed the girl’s hair back with her fingers and tied it.

‘Mother usually brushes it,’ the girl said.

Lyndal looked up at the woman standing behind her. ‘Is that your mother?’

The woman gave her a sad smile. ‘She’s back in the borough. The defenders only took those with symptoms.’

Lyndal rose and turned to glare at Astin as if he had personally torn the girl from her mother’s arms. ‘Did you know about this?’

‘That they were separating the sick from the healthy? Yes.’

‘That they were separating children from their parents for a disease that isn’t even contagious?’

He drew a breath. ‘I don’t work in the merchant borough.’

‘No, you’re just friends with all the men who do.’ She let out a frustrated breath. ‘Am I the only one who has a problem with this?’

Queen Fayre looked in her direction, then wandered over. ‘What problem is that?’

Lyndal’s feet shuffled. ‘There are children here without family, Your Majesty.’

The queen mother looked to the woman standing behind the girl. ‘Is this not your daughter?’

‘No, Your Majesty.’

Fayre stared down at the small girl. ‘How many children are here without family?’

‘Four.’

Clearing her throat and straightening, Lyndal said, ‘Your Majesty, I’d like to request that these children, who clearly have scurvy, be returned to their families.’

The queen watched her calmly. ‘You mean the children who my son, your king, requested be removed and placed in isolation?’

‘Isolation for scurvy. Sure, the symptoms are a little more confronting, but that’s what comes of famine stretching on, year after year. Most merchants get it at some point. At fifteen my joint pain and fatigue were so bad I couldn’t get out of bed. No one came to take me away. I was eventually cured by carrots.’

Kendra wore a look of horror. ‘Father never told me you had scurvy.’

‘Needless to say, the carrots did not come from him,’ Lyndal said before returning her attention to the queen mother. ‘These children don’t need to be locked in with the dead. They need small amounts of the right foods—and their own mothers combing their hair.’

The sharp edge in her tone had Kendra looking nervously between the two women. ‘Perhaps we should discuss this later,’ she said lightly. ‘Let the queen mother fulfil her obligations here.’

No one moved.

Astin was used to standing still and silent during tense moments, but he had a strong urge to speak up on Lyndal’s behalf. The pained plea in her eyes made him look at the ground. It was the same look his sister had whenever she was forced to visit him.

Queen Fayre did not appear angered by the outburst but rather fascinated. ‘You know, there is such a thing as being too honest.’

Lyndal released the breath she was holding. ‘I apologise for the outburst, but for some, family is the only thing they have left. Must the king take that from them too?’

A tight laugh came from Kendra. ‘I think we can all agree honesty is an admirable quality, but let us keep that honesty on a nice tight leash, shall we?’

Lyndal stepped forwards. ‘And why are there walls for this borough at all? Why must we seek permission to bury loved ones? To visit their graves? Surely King Borin is happy to relinquish control once a person is dead.’

Before Queen Fayre could respond, Kendra walked over and took Lyndal by the shoulders. ‘While you have made some very sincere points, I think we should—’

‘In fact, I would like to request that all these people standing before you be allowed to leave,’ Lyndal said, shrugging free of her cousin’s grip. ‘Simpler still to just put an end to the insanity. They’re quite capable of isolating themselves if they truly believe they’re a risk to their families.’

‘Are you finished?’ Queen Fayre asked, her tone even.

Kendra’s lips were pressed together so tightly at that point that all colour had left them.

‘Yes,’ Lyndal said, her voice catching as her head caught up with the words that had tumbled out of her. ‘I think that covers all the… relevant points.’

The queen turned to one of her guards. ‘Have a physician brought in. If he can confirm that these people are not contagious, they are free to return to the borough. Say nothing to the king until I have spoken to him.’

Kendra looked heavenwards, releasing the breath she had been holding. The merchants were all staring at Lyndal as though she were a goddess sent to save them. For all Astin knew, maybe she was.

‘Your Majesty,’ Lyndal began, ‘I—’

Fayre raised a hand, cutting her off. ‘I came here to see the situation for myself. I always intended to send the merchants home if there was no need for them to be here.’ A coy smile appeared on her face. ‘But the cabbage was a nice touch,’ she said as she stepped between the girls and headed for the carriage.

Laughter rose up Astin’s throat, but because he was on duty, he swallowed it down and bit back the accompanying grin.

‘Oh my goodness,’ Kendra muttered, head shaking as she followed the queen.

Lyndal stared after them, her face slack. ‘Not a word, defender,’ she warned.

He raised his hands. ‘I believe you’ve said enough for all of us.’

She cast a venomous look in his direction before dragging her feet all the way to the carriage.