Defender of Hearts by Tanya Bird
Chapter 3
Astin stood at the king’s side, watching the disgruntled merchants gathered in the square before them. He studied their hands, expressions, distribution of weight, all while taking mental notes of the weapons concealed beneath oversized clothes—clothes that had likely fit once upon a time.
‘This is how a good king deals with his people,’ Borin whispered to him. ‘Face to face, in their own setting.’
He was repeating what his mother had told him that morning. Queen Fayre was an excellent puppeteer, and Borin seemed content being the puppet—for now.
Men stood in groups watching the exchange between Borin and the merchants representing them. It was clear by their body language that they had not forgiven the king for the lockdown which had taken so much from them. Hundreds of merchants had died from lack of food and illnesses stemming from it. To make matters worse, Borin had then trapped the merchants in the square and instructed his men to shoot them, naively believing his father’s killer would miraculously reveal himself.
The killer still had not been found.
Astin had a bigger problem at present. In the year since Borin’s coronation, there had been four attempts on the king’s life, ranging from poisoning to an attempted drowning in a bathtub. The problem with hatred of that kind is that it has the ability to seep through walls.
‘I really do not understand the problem here,’ Borin said, his chest expanding. ‘There has been more meat in the merchant borough since I became king. Plus there are fewer people to feed now.’
Astin winced. The fact that there were fewer people should have been a matter of shame.
‘That shows you how little there was before,’ replied the man, ‘not how plentiful it is now. I’m a butcher. I can’t even speak directly with the farmers I’m to buy from.’
‘That wall needs to come down,’ said another. ‘Or at the very least the gate should be opened for business.’
Borin’s lips pinched as he looked between the men. ‘I must balance the needs of the entire kingdom, not one borough.’ He scoffed. ‘You should be thanking me for what you have. Instead, you hold out your hand while complaining. You are free to buy directly from the sea merchants who come each month, because the wall you complain about protects our livestock from the diseases you will inevitably introduce. We have built something unique here, something that is the envy of many.’
The merchants stared back at him, brows creased and mouths downturned.
‘Something unique all right,’ said a man at the back. ‘A prison camp.’
The merchants’ hands twitched at their sides, signalling that it was time to go.
‘Let’s end it there,’ Astin said quietly, all the while scanning their surroundings. If it were up to him, he would have come with a small army or not at all. He was by no means a fan of the king, but he took his responsibility to keep the man alive seriously.
Borin glanced at his bodyguard, then nodded. ‘I believe the matter to be sorted.’
The merchants exchanged a look that would melt iron. One of the men went to follow the king.
‘That’s far enough,’ Astin said, stepping in front of him. He remained there until Borin was safely on his horse, then looked around before following him.
‘The famine is not over yet—for anyone,’ Borin called. ‘If you think the rest of Wales is fairing any better, you are wrong. Carmarthenshire is a muddy wasteland of skeletons.’
It was true that other kingdoms under King Edward’s rule were no better off. Many people foolishly travelled to Chadora seeking refuge from the famine, then died waiting to be let in.
Astin mounted his horse and gestured for the king to start moving.
‘You’re killing us, one by one,’ someone shouted after them. ‘We were better off when Aymer de Valence controlled this land—and that’s saying something.’
Astin shot the man a warning look, conscious that Borin was easily set off by the slightest suggestion that both he and his father were not superior to the 2nd Earl of Pembroke in every way. Their rivalry was the reason Pembroke became Chadora upon the earl’s exile.
‘You’re not fit to be king!’ the other shouted.
Astin blinked. ‘Just keep riding.’
Borin turned in his saddle, mouth agape. ‘Are you going to let them speak to me like that?’
‘They’re just blowing off steam. They’re not real threats.’
‘Go on, run back to your castle,’ the man called, walking after them. ‘You think you’re safe there?’
And there it was. A threat to the king’s life—punishable by death. Not a quick death either but the slow torturous kind, where by the time they were actually strung up on the wall, their own family did not recognise them.
Astin dismounted and marched over to the man, grabbing him by the front of the shirt and throwing him to the ground with such force that the air left him in one violent gasp. Making a fist, he punched the man in the face, ensuring he broke his nose for effect. Blood poured freely as the merchant writhed on the ground, cursing and blinking away tears.
The bodyguard prayed it was enough to satisfy the king.
Borin watched the man for a moment, then gave a satisfied nod before turning his horse away. Astin looked around at the other merchants, one glance making it clear no one was to move. A broken nose was better than a public execution, and they all knew it.
He marched back to his horse and mounted once more. Then the pair made their way across the square towards the rising portcullis.
‘Tonight I will be dining with Lord Thomas Welche,’ Borin said, having already moved on from the violent scene. ‘While he may be one of the more prominent figures in the nobility borough, his name is not without scandal.’
Astin had encountered the cocky lord enough times to form an opinion of him. He had seen the way he spoke to the Suttone family. He had even once seen him take a hand to the youngest of the sisters. Though only the once. A visit from Harlan had put an end to that. Even Lyndal tended to shut down in his presence, and she was as outspoken as they came.
‘His wife’s sister married a merchant,’ the king went on. ‘Four children. I believe the son died in the tunnels a few years back. And the daughters.’ He shook his head. ‘Beautiful trouble. The eldest married Commander Wright, as you know.’
Astin drew a long breath and prayed for patience.
‘It shows what a tattered state his mind was in after he was removed from his post.’ Borin tutted. ‘Still, I will not speak too poorly of him. I am aware of your ongoing friendship.’
On and on he went, with his own unique version of events. Astin had learned long ago that there was no point trying to correct him. He was never wrong about anything.
‘I suspect Lord Thomas wishes to present his daughter as a potential wife. She is well bred and in her prime so far as fertility goes. Though I cannot for the life of me picture her face. I suppose if she was a horse of a girl, I would surely remember that.’
That was true. He always remembered a person’s faults.
‘What say you on the matter?’ Borin asked, looking sideways at him.
They passed beneath the archway into the royal borough.
‘It’s not for me to comment. Your mother is far more qualified to guide you on such things. But I pray whatever union follows is a happy one.’
That was mostly for his own sake. It was uncomfortable enough bearing witness to family fights. Couple fights would be a whole other headache.
‘Or perhaps I shall simply take her as a mistress,’ Borin said, sounding pleased with himself.
Astin stared straight ahead. ‘Don’t mistresses come after marriage?’
‘Mother is always telling me to think ahead.’
The bodyguard was fairly sure she had not been referring to mistresses at the time but said nothing.
‘You might be content with tavern whores and servant romps, Fletcher, but a king can select his conquests from any part of the kingdom.’
Astin was not sure which was worse, Borin using the word ‘conquests’ or the fact that the king was aware of his entanglements with maids. If the warden found out, Astin would be in a lot of trouble.
‘Do you require additional guards for this evening?’ Astin asked, moving the conversation along.
‘I assure you I am quite safe in the nobility borough,’ Borin replied with a chuckle. ‘They all love me.’
Not true. Many were losing patience with his lack of direction and progress. They may have had more food than the merchants, but what they did not have was a strong leader to make them feel secure about their future. A boy guided by his ego was not adequate.
‘If you aren’t safe in your home, then you aren’t safe anywhere,’ Astin said.
The king adjusted his reins. ‘Well, then it is a good thing I have you to be afraid on my behalf. My father always said fear is a waste of a king’s energy.’
Brave words born of stupidity.
‘Do try to relax this evening,’ Borin said. ‘You can be a bit of a wet blanket at these kinds of gatherings.’
‘Due to my bad habit of saving your life?’
Borin chuckled again. ‘You do know I kept you on as my highest-ranking guard for your jokes. You always know how to make me laugh.’
‘While I appreciate that,’ Astin said dryly, ‘the other part of my job is to keep you safe.’
Borin kicked his horse into a trot. ‘Why not find yourself a fresh maid to entertain you for the evening?’
Drawing a calming breath, Astin followed him.