Defender of Hearts by Tanya Bird

Chapter 23

While the carcass was being skinned and butchered, Lyndal tried to convince Wallis, the kitchen maid, to join her on a quest to the merchant borough.

‘The king said I could ask the staff for help,’ Lyndal said when Wallis responded with “No way.”

Wallis continued chopping onions. ‘So ask someone who wants to go.’

Lyndal glanced over at Astin, who was leaning in the doorway not looking at her, then returned her attention to the maid. ‘When was the last time you left the royal borough? Don’t you miss the hustle of the merchant borough?’

‘I heard there are dead bodies on the street.’

‘Bodies that will have likely been collected by the time we get there.’ Not her strongest argument but worth pointing out. ‘And you have the opportunity to be part of the solution. Fewer dead bodies tomorrow because of your good deed today.’

Astin coughed—his only contribution.

Wallis picked up a turnip and washed it in a bowl of water. ‘I’ve got enough work to do here.’

Lyndal tried another approach. ‘I understand. I’ll ask someone else. The king might have some fresh suggestions for me.’

When she went to turn away, Wallis stopped her.

‘Wait.’ She let out a resigned breath. ‘Are the rumours true? About you and the king?’

Lyndal backed away from the bench. ‘I’m really not at liberty to speak about it.’

‘Fine. I’ll do it. But you better remember this good deed if those rumours prove true.’ She placed the knife down, hands going to her hips. ‘What do you need?’

A smile spread across Lyndal’s face. ‘I’m going to need some very large pots and as many vegetables as you can spare.’

Lyndal did not know how to fix what had broken between her and Astin that morning. He walked beside the wagon, still refusing to look at her. Acknowledging feelings of any kind seemed like a bad idea, but pretending the conversation had never happened did not seem helpful either.

‘So serious, defender,’ she said. ‘Any potential threats identified?’ If humour did not work, she could always throw a piece of onion at him.

No response.

‘We haven’t even left the borough yet. What could possibly have you so preoccupied?’

His gaze drifted in her direction. ‘We’re in shooting range of the wall, and you’re an easy target right now.’

She refused to let him spook her. ‘Are you suggesting there’s a defender atop the wall who wishes me dead?’

‘Any one of those men has the skill to carry it out on another’s behalf.’

That shut her up.

She glanced nervously up at the wall, then behind her to the six cast-iron pots filled with meat and vegetables. There were another two filled with bones and organs, as well as an assortment of bowls and spoons. She decided to focus on the task ahead.

When they passed through the gate into the square, Astin’s hand went to the hilt of his sword. He signalled something to the other defenders who had travelled with them, and they dispersed.

Once the wagon rolled to a stop, Lyndal and Wallis stepped down to set up. They asked some merchants to help build the fires for cooking, then went to fetch water from the well. Within the hour, two pots of soup simmered away.

Lyndal kept an eye out for her family, and just when she thought they were not going to show up, she spotted Blake and Eda at the edge of the square. Candace was not with them.

‘I’ll be back in a moment,’ Lyndal told Wallis before making her way over to her sisters. Astin followed at a distance.

The three sisters stood in awkward silence for a full minute before anyone spoke.

‘Is Mother all right?’ Lyndal finally asked.

‘She had some things to take care of at the shop,’ Blake lied.

Lyndal nodded and played with the end of her hair. ‘I gather she still hasn’t come around to the idea of me with the king?’

Blake chewed her lip. ‘Harlan told us about the fire.’

‘It was quickly brought under control,’ Lyndal replied. ‘Shame about the furniture though. Very comfortable chairs.’ She barely knew what she was saying.

You look so tired, Eda signed.

Lyndal’s eyes began to sting. ‘I’ve had a bit of trouble sleeping since.’

‘Not surprising,’ Blake said. ‘Someone did lock you in a room and set the one beside yours on fire before leaving you to die.’

Lyndal crinkled her nose. ‘I gather Harlan spared no detail in his retelling?’

‘Do you think I gave him a choice?’

Silence.

Still going to marry the king, then?Eda signed.

She was the second person to ask that question that morning. ‘I really think I can do this.’

‘You mean if you can survive until the wedding?’ Blake said.

More silence.

‘You’ve always been incredible in a crisis,’ Blake admitted. ‘And this is the biggest crisis the merchants have ever faced. But he doesn’t deserve you, which makes giving you up even more difficult.’

Lyndal’s stomach fell. ‘Please don’t give me up. I couldn’t bear it.’

Eda looked down and began rolling up her sleeves. Enough. How can we help?

Lyndal pulled her sisters to her, kissing their faces before letting go. ‘We have soup for the children and offal and bones for everyone else.’

We’ll spread the word, Eda signed. Tell people to bring a pot with them.

Blake was looking over at Astin with a thoughtful expression. ‘What’s the matter with him?’

How to explain something she was still getting her head around.

Let me guess,Eda signed. He’s figured out he fancies you—too late.

Lyndal’s mouth dropped open. ‘Why would you say that?’

Blake’s eyes returned to her. ‘Maybe because the man has spent the past year asking after you when you’re absent and staring at you when you aren’t.’

‘That’s not true’ was Lyndal’s immediate reaction. ‘If he was looking at me, he was likely thinking up his next insult.’

Blake tilted her head. ‘Didn’t you ever wonder why Eda never accidentally tripped the man or dropped soup onto his lap? She saw it before I did.’

Lyndal looked over at Astin, who continued to survey their surroundings as though an army of assassins were about to descend at any moment. ‘Why did neither of you say anything?’

Blake’s eyebrows rose. ‘What for? You made it abundantly clear you couldn’t stand him.’

She had given that impression. It had been a matter of pride. He was always noticing other young women and never her, so she made a point of not noticing him right back.

Except he had noticed her.

When she turned back to her sisters, she found them watching her with an amused expression.

‘Why are your ears turning red?’ Blake asked. ‘Is it possible the attraction is mutual?’

‘Louder,’ Lyndal whispered back. ‘I don’t think he heard you.’

Eda pursed her lips. That’s quite a pickle you find yourself in, Lady Lyndal.

Lyndal took a step back. ‘Off you go. Bring me some children to feed. I’m here in the square with food enough for two hundred people because I’ve agreed to wed the king.’

The smile fell from Blake’s face. ‘And we’ll stand by you through the entire disastrous marriage.’

Unless he hurts you, Eda signed. Then I’ll cut off his—

Lyndal grabbed hold of her sister’s hands. ‘Best not to finish that just in case.’

‘In case of what?’ Astin said, appearing beside her.

Lyndal let go of her sister’s hand. ‘Oh. We’re talking again.’ She turned her younger sister in the other direction and gave her a gentle push. ‘Off you go. Many mouths to feed.’

‘There’s already a line,’ Astin said.

Lyndal turned back to the fires and saw he was right. The smell of simmering meat had lured people from every crevice of the borough.

‘Keep order,’ Astin instructed a nearby defender.

‘For goodness’ sake,’ Lyndal said as they walked over. ‘People are quite capable of forming a line without defender supervision.’ She stopped in front of the bubbling soup pot and peered inside. ‘This one ready?’

Wallis added a handful of salt, then gave it a stir. ‘Now it is.’

‘Bring your children forwards,’ Lyndal called to the crowd. ‘Everyone else is welcome to broth if you have something to take it home in.’

They removed the pots from the heat and placed two more over the flames.

The two women found their rhythm, Lyndal ladling soup into bowls and reminding people to return them so they could be washed and reused, and Wallis doing the washing while handing out the bones and offal.

‘May Belenus bless you,’ people said as they took the steaming soup from her.

Other common sentiments included ‘Can we expect an announcement soon?’ and ‘He’s a fool if he doesn’t marry you.’

Lyndal was aware of Astin’s gaze constantly flicking in her direction. That combined with the heat from the fires had her feeling hotter and hotter by the minute.

‘The line’s only getting longer,’ Wallis whispered.

Lyndal looked down the growing line as she handed a bowl to the eldest of four boys. ‘You’re responsible for bringing the bowls back to me. All right?’

He nodded, eyes never leaving the food.

‘Halve the portions to make it stretch further,’ Lyndal whispered to Wallis when the family stepped aside. ‘And one bone per family.’

Wallis frowned. ‘That’s not even enough to—’

‘I know,’ Lyndal said, wiping her brow with the back of her hand.

She turned to a young mother holding a girl around three years of age, stilling when she caught sight of the girl’s face. Her eyes were closed, her skin grey and lips blue. Lyndal stepped around the pot and carefully placed a hand on the girl’s chest.

No heartbeat.

No movement at all.

She pulled her hand back as though burned. ‘I’m so sorry.’

The woman stared at her with bloodshot eyes. ‘She’ll be all right once I get some food into her. Please.’

Lyndal swallowed. ‘Your daughter is dead. I’m sorry.’

The mother shook her head, eyes watery. ‘She was crying all morning, said her stomach hurt. A bit of soup will fix her.’

It was not the first time Lyndal had encountered mothers unable to accept the loss, mothers who had sacrificed every morsel of food so their child could eat, only to discover it was still not enough.

‘I’ll have someone help you,’ Lyndal said quietly.

‘You shut your mouth!’ the woman fired back, clutching her daughter as tears spilled over and fell down her cheeks. ‘I’m not leaving until you hand me a bowl.’

Astin stepped between them. ‘Lower your voice,’ he told the woman, signalling to another defender.

‘My daughter has as much right to this food as anyone else here,’ the woman screamed.

Astin took her by the arm and pulled her out of the line. ‘Your daughter is dead, and the food is for the living.’ He handed the woman over to the waiting defender. ‘Find out if she has family in the borough, and take care of the girl.’

The defender nodded and led the woman away.

Wallis dropped the bowl she was holding and pressed a hand to her chest. ‘She’s really dead?’

Lyndal bent and picked up the bowl, brushing it off and handing it back to her. ‘That’s why we’re here. Keep going.’

Wallis took the bowl from Lyndal’s trembling hand and turned back to the pot.

‘Everyone all right?’ Astin asked when he returned.

Lyndal forced a smile and faced the line. ‘Who’s next?’

They continued filling bowls until every pot was empty. Then they added a little water to each pot to collect the fat around the edges, handing that to the next family in place of soup. An older man took the final bone, and then there was nothing left to hand over.

A woman was next in line, a girl clinging to her leg and another on her hip. Her face collapsed when she realised the pots were all empty, and a hand went over her face in an attempt to hide the devastation from her children.

It broke something in Lyndal.

If she was hot before, she was boiling now as she tried to keep her emotions contained. ‘I need some air,’ she said, moving away from the fires.

‘Are you all right?’ Wallis called to her back.

Lyndal covered her ears to block the growing noise coming from the line of people. Anguish poured out of the merchants, filling the square.

Black spots danced in her vision, and just as she felt herself begin to tilt, Astin appeared, catching her around the waist. ‘Clear the square,’ he shouted to an approaching defender. ‘And help the maid.’ He pressed a hand to Lyndal’s burning cheek. ‘Let’s get you cooled down.’

She wanted to object, tell him she was fine, but the numbness in her body suggested otherwise. ‘It doesn’t make sense.’

‘What doesn’t make sense?’

She swallowed. ‘Mothers carrying their dead children around the village when there’s meat on the other side of that wall.’

He said nothing.

‘When will this end?’ Her voice broke.

He drew her closer, an arm still wrapping her waist. ‘Stop talking, and breathe for me.’ He nodded to the defender on duty as they passed through the port gate. A few minutes later, they were across the sand and standing at the water’s edge.

‘Look at the water,’ he told her. ‘Don’t worry about what’s happening behind you.’

She slowed her breathing and watched the waves roll in, grateful for the cooling breeze that blew in off the sea. Astin bent and dipped his hand in the water, then brushed her hair to one side, placing it on the back of her neck. Her eyes closed at the sensation.

‘Better?’ he asked.

She nodded. ‘Better.’

He withdrew his hand, leaving droplets of cold water on her neck. Opening her eyes, she stared out past the waves to the horizon.

‘Can I ask you something?’ she said.

‘Yes.’

She took a moment to select her words. ‘Before all this, when I was just a merchant buying a boar I couldn’t transport down at the port… did you see me?’

He turned to her. ‘I don’t understand.’

‘Did you see me?’ She swallowed. ‘Or was I just Blake’s irritating sister? Easy prey for your jokes?’

He was silent a long moment, and then he brushed a finger down his nose. ‘I saw you the day you marched out into the middle of the road and blocked the king’s horse, demanding he help you get a letter to your uncle.’ He shifted his feet. ‘I saw you when you came to your sister’s defence in the port a few weeks after that. I saw you stare down arrows in the square and confess to a crime you never committed. I saw you unable to stop crying at Blake and Harlan’s wedding, because their happiness was your own. I saw you very clearly when you danced with all those men at last year’s festival. I saw you laughing at the things they said.’ He paused and took a breath. ‘I’ve been trying to un-see you ever since.’

She was utterly speechless for a full minute. She stared up at him, expecting him to tell her it was another one of his jokes, but he remained silent. ‘Oh.’

Reaching up, he ran a knuckle down her cheek. ‘Look at you. You’re the only sunshine left in this place.’

Her skin prickled and her pulse quickened. Talk about bad timing. The merchants were depending on the match with the king to go ahead. She could not be acknowledging feelings for another man at this point in the game—especially one she could not escape.

‘Astin’ came a familiar voice.

His hand fell away, and they both turned to see Presley walking towards them.

‘Sister,’ Astin said. ‘What are you doing here?’

‘Looking for you.’ She closed the distance between them. Then, drawing a breath, she checked her surroundings. ‘There’s something I think you should know.’