The Faithful Heart

by Merry Farmer

  He didn’t need to hear anything more. He drew his sword from its sheath and sprinted down the hall towards the small gallery at the top of the stairs. The others rushed after him. The edge of the carpet under one of the windows near the front door was blazing with flames that were already licking their way up the wall and catching on a tapestry beside the fireplace. Simon dashed out from the hallway leading towards his room with a blanket. His teeth were bared in a snarl as he swatted at the flames.

  Jack jumped the last few steps, spinning to the wall and yanking another tapestry off of its fastenings to join Simon in beating the flames. Madeline herded Aubrey and Joanna away from the center of the room towards the hallway. Aubrey’s face contorted in a sharp wince. Toby ran for the front door. He threw it open and moved to charge through when a crossbow bolt smacked into the doorframe with a loud thwump and a crack. With a yelp of shock he jumped back, slamming the door shut.

  “There are dozens of them!” He stumbled back towards the women.

  Another loud crack split the air as a crossbow bolt smashed through the hall’s other window, shattering the glass and ricocheting off the wall near the stairway. Jack whipped around with his sword drawn as if he could do something about it. “Oy, they’re supposed to be at Windale!”

  His glance shot to Madeline’s as she backed further down the hall with Aubrey and Joanna. He dropped the tapestry, leaving Simon to fight the fire, and took one step towards the women before a flaming ball came tumbling through the newly broken window. It landed on the floor and shattered with a blast, a wall of flame spitting up between him and his wife. He jumped back, singed by the new conflagration. Toby fell on the other side of the fire and scrambled towards his sister and Aubrey.

  Simon’s head shot up in alarm when he saw the new fire but he continued to battle the flames of the first one. Jack scrambled for the tapestry he’d dropped as the smoke grew thicker and stung at his throat. He coughed hard as his hand closed around the charred cloth of the tapestry. When he raised it he saw that it was consumed in flames itself. He dropped it and reached for Simon just as a third fire bomb came crashing through the window, blasting into a sheet of flames against the stairway.

  “Oy!” he shouted at his friend, voice strangled by coughing. He grabbed Simon by the arm and pulled him away from the fire. He couldn’t think of anything else to say. Simon didn’t need to hear anything else. The two men rushed through the burning room towards the hall. Jack covered his face and jumped through the growing wall of fire to reach the hallway and Madeline. She grasped at his arm and pulled him on towards the back of the house as Simon pushed his way through the flames behind them. Aubrey stood only a few steps behind and yanked Simon to safety as they all rushed to the still untouched pantry where Toby and Joanna waited.

  “They aren’t in the garden,” Toby told the two coughing, blackened men, eyes wide with alarm. “At least I can’t see anyone out there. We can escape!”

  Jack pushed his way out of Madeline’s grip and past Toby to the door. Trying to be quick and cautious he cracked the door and stuck his head out into the early-dawn light. The garden was empty but he could see flickers of flames, signs that the manor house wasn’t the only building being torched. He pulled his head back inside as billows of smoke reached the pantry from the main hall. “It’s clear,” he addressed Simon, eyes hard, “but not for long.”

  “We can’t fight them if they have distance weapons,” Simon strode past the others to look out the door himself. He cracked it open again. “We have a clear shot to the orchard,” he turned to face Jack, eyes resting on Aubrey and then Madeline. “From there we can secure the women in the storehouse.”

  Jack nodded and sprang into action. He took Madeline’s hand in his left hand while holding up his sword with the right. “Quietly as we can,” he told her, eyes traveling on to Joanna, Aubrey, Toby. They all nodded as he pushed open the door with his shoulder. He scrambled into the garden with Madeline, running as fast as he could with her in tow. Toby took Joanna’s hand and followed, a struggling Aubrey and Simon bringing up the rear.

  With the orchard to hide them Jack changed direction. He slowed enough to pick their way through the low-hanging branches. Above the trees they could see the outline of the manor house, tongues of flame dancing up through its roof. “Bloody hell!” he muttered, picking up the pace.

  They continued to dodge through the trees, but Aubrey and Simon were falling behind. When they reached the edge of the orchard near the storehouse Jack stopped and turned back to the heart of the village. Dark, swarthy men with swords and crossbows clustered around the house like a swarm of wasps attacking. Sitting high atop a horse in the middle of them was the unmistakable figure of Lydia.

  There was no time for rage. His heart leapt to his throat when a tight cluster of villagers rushed at the attackers from the side. The scar-faced man with the crushed nose, Connor, rallied a gang of men and charged them. Men shouted battle cries on both sides as they met with a clash of steal against steal and wood.

  “They don’t stand a chance,” Simon shouted as he caught up.

  Jack’s face hardened with grim realization. He thought of the men and women that had become his responsibility, the faces of the forest people who had looked to him for help, the girl Kitty. None of them stood a chance. “I know,” he tightened his grip on his sword. “Come on.”

  He grabbed Madeline’s hand and sprinted with her out of the orchard and across the road, to the storehouse. All six of them crossed the distance unseen and pressed themselves up against the side of the building. They watched the pitiful resistance the villagers of Kedleridge were putting up a hundred yards away down the road with wide eyes. The manor house was engulfed in flames along with two or three buildings close by. A second mounted figure shouted with mad rage at the burning house, Roderick.

  Simon stopped dead, arms dropping to his sides, when he recognized his son. “Come on!” Jack shouted, pushing Madeline, Toby, and Joanna into the safety of the storehouse. Aubrey groaned and followed them, but he had to grab Simon’s shirt and tug him hard to snap his attention back to preserving himself. “You can deal with it later!”

  The storehouse was stacked high with crates of produce and bundles of grain. Jack herded the others deeper into the heart of the vast room. It was little consolation that the walls of apples and plums would be able to protect them from stray crossbow bolts. “Oy, I’ll give Ethan this much. He was right. They attacked at dawn.”

  “I thought they were going to attack Windale, not us.” Madeline rushed to him, grabbing his arm for comfort.

  “We were wrong.” He held her tighter, feeling helpless. How long would it be before Lydia and Roderick or Connor and his goons figured out they weren’t in the house? How long until they came looking, torches, crossbows, swords and all? They couldn’t hold out against those odds. “We need a plan.” He turned to Simon.

  “Our plan is at Windale!” Aubrey snapped, following her words with a grunt of pain that doubled her over.

  All eyes snapped to her. Jack connected the dots moments later. “No!” he rounded on her. “You are not having a baby, do you understand?”

  Aubrey glared at him, ready to tear his throat out. “Somebody has to get Crispin!” she snarled back, her voice cracking. Bloody hell. Aubrey was scared.

  “I’ll go,” Toby volunteered in an instant.

  “No!” Joanna clamped her hands around his arm. “Toby you can’t leave me. You’re all I have left!”

  Sharp pain in his eyes, Toby hugged his sister and looked deep into her eyes. “I’m the only one who can go. I’ll be useless if I stay here.”

  Jack rushed to Toby. There wasn’t time for a scene. “It’s only about fifteen minutes if you run the whole way. Can you do it?”

  Toby nodded, steeling his nerves for what he had to do.

  “Here,” Aubrey forced through clenched teeth, sweat breaking out on her forehead. “Take my sword.” She thrust it into his hands then staggered back
to sit on the ground, Madeline helping her, eyes wide and numb with alarm. “I want it back.”

  Toby stared at the sword in his hands. Resolve hardened his usually kind face. He glanced up to Jack with a nod, then turned to Joanna. “I love you, you know.”

  Joanna nodded, tears streaming down her face. “I know.”

  Toby rushed forward to kiss her on the cheek, then turned and dashed out of the storehouse and into the brightening dawn. For several minutes they were all silent. Jack drew in a breath then turned to Simon. “Our people are out there getting slaughtered,” he told him. Simon stared back at him, understanding. They both knew what they had to do. He turned to Madeline. “Build a shelter out of the crates,” his voice was hard as stone, eyes passing over the other two women as well. “They’ll hide you and they’ll take longer to burn.”

  “Wait, Jack, no!” Madeline jumped up from her place at Aubrey’s side. “What are you going to do?”

  “Protect you.”

  “Jack, no!” She clutched at his shirt, green eyes wild. “Stay with me! Stay with me!”

  It broke his heart, but he had to pry her off of him. He sighed in agony and pulled her closer, kissing her, eyes closed, before pushing her back and drawing the second sword in his belt. She clutched at the rosary around her neck as he turned and nodded to Simon. Without hesitation the two men jumped into action, sprinting for the storehouse door and out into the chaos of the morning.

  Toby’s lungs burned as he ran down the hill from Kedleridge into Windale. The silence over Windale, almost peaceful, was an eerie contrast to what he knew was going on behind him. In the dim light he could see scores of men sleeping out, their swords at the ready. Several were already awake. Crispin was among them. As he ran Toby could see him pacing among the men, eyes on the Derby road. Ethan sat on a horse close to him.

  “Help!” Toby shouted, waving his arms as he gasped for breath. “Help!”

  Crispin turned. He scowled when he saw Toby. That scowl hardened into something much worse when his gaze shot past Toby to the sky over the hill. Toby slowed down and checked over his shoulder. There was a flickering light over the crest of the hill, almost like dawn but coming from the wrong direction.

  Toby jumped in fright as Crispin charged towards him, face as black as his clothes, sword drawn. He forced himself not to run from the man but to shout, “They’re being attacked! There are dozens of them! They’ve burned the manor!” He couldn’t get out another word before Crispin was on him.

  “Aubrey! Is she alive?”

  Toby recoiled when it looked like Crispin would just as soon run him through as hug him. “They’re in the storehouse! She’s in labor!”

  Crispin didn’t even break stride as he shot past him and on towards Kedleridge. Toby spun as he shot past, nearly losing his grip on Aubrey’s sword. When he recovered enough to run further on the path he was met by Ethan riding towards him. “Ethan!” His chest burst with joy and relief.

  “Toby!” Ethan called back, pulling his horse to a stop. “Where’s Joanna?”

  Every ounce of fear and danger poured back over Toby and his knees felt so weak he was afraid he’d fall. “She’s in the storehouse, in Kedleridge.” He rushed towards his master. “They burned down the manor house but Jack and Simon got us all out. Ethan, there are dozens of them. Dozens! They need help and they need it now or-”

  “We have to help them,” Ethan reached out his hand. He rushed forward and grabbed it as Ethan pulled him up to sit on the horse in back of him. From the back of the horse he could just see over the ridge of the hill and into the village of Windale. The soldiers were rising in the midst of the sudden panic. They scattered for their horses and weapons like ants awaken from an anthill. Tom had found a horse and a sword and rode through the men, shouting for them to hurry and mount up. It was all he needed to see and all he had a chance to see. Ethan kicked his horse forward and began to gallop back down the path in the direction of the thickening smoke coming from Kedleridge.

  Jack and Simon kept to the shadows along the side of the buildings stretching up the road from the storehouse to the conflagration of the manor house. “Oy!” Jack tossed his second sword to his friend as they tried to go unnoticed as long as possible. “You’re gonna need this, mate.”

  Simon caught the sword and closed his hand around the hilt. The morning sunlight was now pouring down on them, lighting the lopsided battle that spread through the streets around the crossroads in the center of the village. Atop his horse Roderick had turned and noticed them making their approach. His eyes grew wide with energy and he yanked his horse’s reins to turn the beast, then galloped towards them. Simon raised his weapon in time to deflect the blow that his son hammered down on him as he tore past. The force of the impact caused both of them to drop their swords. Simon stumbled.

  Jack lunged to help him, but the sickening thunk of a crossbow bolt slamming into his thigh spun him around and threw him to the ground. He cried out in pain and clutched at the thick bolt that protruded from his leg as another bolt whizzed through the air where his head had been seconds before and a third tore through his shirt, grazing his arm. He looked to Simon in time to see him lunge and roll towards his dropped sword. He grabbed it as Roderick jerked his horse to a stop and dismounted, pulling his long dagger from his belt.

  Simon struggled to his feet as his son charged at him shouting wordlessly, dagger raised over his head. Simon brought his blade up to fend off Roderick’s attack with a clang and spark. Jack yanked the crossbow bolt from his thigh with a strangled cry. He jumped to his feet, blood running from his shoulder and leg, sweat smearing the soot on his face.

  Roderick’s attack drew Connor’s attention away from the burning buildings. With a vicious laugh he broke away from the melee near the house to charge towards Jack and Simon. “With me!” he shouted to whichever of his men would take up the call.

  Jack gripped his sword with two hands and bared his teeth as Connor charged. When the man got close enough Jack swung as hard as he could. Connor fell, but whether it was a blow from his sword or one of the hail of crossbow bolts that rained on them he couldn’t tell. He didn’t stay down though. With a snarl he stood again.

  Another bolt ripped through Jack’s shirt, tearing a chunk out of his side. Simon raised his sword to attack Roderick but jerked and stumbled. Two bolts jutted from his back, one near his neck and the other below his waist.

  “Simon! No!” Jack shouted and took half a step towards him before being forced to spin around and defend himself against one of Connor’s goons.

  Simon rallied and continued to battle Roderick feet away. Roderick slashed at him with energy but no skill. Simon used every ounce of his strength to parry the blow, defending himself and trying to work up the will to attack. “You don’t need to do this son!”

  “I’m not your son!” Roderick spat back, spinning around and using the momentum to strike at his side.

  “You will always be my son!” Roderick avoided meeting his eyes. “You were my son on the day you were born into this world,” he grunted and dodged a sloppy jab. “You were my son the day we knew you were healthy, that you would live.” Roderick stumbled back, panting and flexing his hands around the hilt of his dagger as he stared at the blood seeping through his shirt. “I am so sorry, Roderick. I failed you as a father. I failed in so many ways. But I forgive you, son, I forgive you for all of this. No matter what you have done, you will always be my son!”

  Roderick lowered his arm and groaned in pain as Simon’s words hit him harder than any sword stroke. Jack thrust his blade through the gut of one of the mercenaries and tried again to come to Simon’s aid. There was no time.

  “You turned me in!” Roderick’s voice cracked as he shouted.

  “I reported Lord Hugh’s murder,” Simon shook his head. “I would have protected you if you hadn’t run!”

  His eyes flickered up to meet Simon’s. For a moment it looked like Roderick believed him. The moment vanished and his face c
ontorted in fury. “You betrayed me when everything I did was for your sake! I have no father now!”

  Roderick raised his dagger again with a roar and charged at Simon. Simon dodged, but bleeding from two crossbow bolts in his back he was not fast enough. Roderick slashed across his arm and chest. Simon only managed to hang onto his sword by a thread. He couldn’t raise it again before Roderick spun and slashed at his head. Roderick lost his balance and instead of being a killing blow the point of his dagger cut across Simon’s face, splitting his cheek from his ear to his nose. Simon’s head whipped to the side with the blow, leaving him completely off-balance when Roderick raised his arms and thrust.

  Jack wrenched his sword out of the body of the man he’d just killed and pushed him over with his foot in time to see Roderick’s blade stab into Simon's chest. “No!” he shouted, eyes popping wide as he scrambled away from the man who had started towards him and lunged to swing at Roderick instead. He hit the young man across the shoulders as he pulled his dagger out of his father.

  Simon crumpled to the ground as Roderick stumbled to the side. Jack pushed on, bringing his sword crashing down on Roderick as the young man defended himself with wide, startled eyes. He wheeled around and thrust. Roderick only just managed to send the wild blow glancing off to the side with his dagger before backing up so fast he nearly fell over himself. Terror replaced vengeance on his face and rather than mounting a counter-attack he screamed and dropped his dagger, scrambling to turn and run.

  Jack chased after him for three steps before desperation over Simon made him skid to a halt and change direction. He spun back to his friend who lay on his side in a heap, blood staining the dirt under him. Jack was forced to change direction once again as a hollering mercenary threw himself at him. Reacting on pure adrenaline he parried the blow and circled his sword around to thrust at the attacker. The man was startled by the show of skill and force and was too slow to defend against the second attack aimed at his arm. He dropped his sword with a shout as Jack cut him to the bone.