Defender of Hearts

by Tanya Bird

  Defender of Hearts

  Kingdom of Walls book two

  Tanya Bird

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Epilogue

  Where to now?

  Acknowledgments

  Also by Tanya Bird

  Copyright © 2021 by Tanya Bird

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Chapter 1

  Astin felt the air shift before he heard the creak of the bow. His head snapped to the right, and every muscle in his body contracted beneath his uniform. He studied the shadows at the end of the corridor, where the flickering orange light cast by a torch faded into black.

  Someone was hunting him.

  One hand reached for his knife, the other for the hilt of his sword. His ears strained for any thread of noise to grab on to.

  He was trained to hear it.

  The air shifted again, and he drew his sword, spinning it once, twice. It was the only shield he had, and it did its job, knocking the arrow off course. He threw his knife in the direction of his attacker, and it disappeared into the shadows. A howl of pain rang out. Astin was moving then, his long legs stretching and his boots pounding the stone. A weapon flashed up ahead, and he threw himself to the ground, sliding as a knife passed overhead. He suspected it was his own knife but did not dare look back to confirm it. Into the darkness he went, sword swinging. Relief swelled in him when it connected with flesh and bone. Another wail of pain, and a bow dropped to the ground.

  The familiar whine of the king’s door opening drew Astin’s attention. And there was King Borin peering around the edge of the door frame, fringe tilting, despite having been told numerous times to close his door if there was no guard waiting for him on the other side.

  ‘Inside!’ Astin called as he thrust his sword up between his attacker’s legs.

  A pained scream collided with the sound of the door slamming shut. The man collapsed, and Astin shoved him away so he could free his sword. The ground beneath him was slippery with blood as he rose, running his weapon across the man’s throat.

  Footsteps came at a run, and Astin reached for the bow on the ground before snatching up one of the scattered arrows. He loaded the weapon and took aim. His hands slackened around the bow when a defender stepped into the light, looking from Astin to the dead man on the floor.

  ‘Check on the king,’ Astin said, looking back at the corpse. His eyes travelled from the unkempt hair to the simple clothes, all the way down to the worn soles of the boots. This was no soldier, no sea warrior. This was a merchant man.

  The door opened once more, and this time King Borin strode out. He was all bravado now that the intruder was dead. The other defender followed at his heel, scanning the corridor.

  ‘You should stay in your bedchamber until the castle is secure, Your Majesty,’ Astin said, positioning himself in front of the corpse.

  Borin stepped around him and peered down at the man. ‘Who is he?’

  The answer was another merchant who wished his king dead. Another merchant prepared to sacrifice himself for a greater cause.

  ‘I don’t know,’ Astin replied. ‘And I don’t know if he’s alone, so I need you inside.’

  The young king did not move. ‘Look at his clothes, his hair. He is a merchant, is he not?’ He knew his bodyguard was obligated to answer honestly.

  Astin swallowed. ‘Appears that way.’

  ‘First my father, now they come for me. It seems they will not stop until my entire family is wiped out. And what does my mother say? Forget about justice. Let us all move forwards.’

  It was revenge that the queen mother steered her son from, the kind that consumed a man whole and turned him into something unrecognisable. Borin had been possessed by revenge once before, and no one wanted to see a repeat of that.

  ‘Your family is quite safe’ was all Astin said.

  Borin’s face twisted, his stubby nose turning red. ‘Brand him and hang him in the merchant borough. I want everyone to see what becomes of traitors. He can greet the merchants as they rise from their beds in the morning.’ The king looked back at the corpse. ‘And find out how in Belenus’s name he got into my home. It seems we have defenders falling asleep at their posts.’

  Astin gave a small nod. ‘Yes, Your Majesty.’

  The young king turned and padded back to his quarters, slamming the door closed behind him. The noise echoed along the corridor.

  The second defender stepped up beside Astin. ‘Your orders, sir?’

  ‘You heard the king,’ Astin said quietly. ‘Brand him, then hang him on the wall.’

  Chapter 2

  The boar watched her through the gaps in the crate, daring her to hand over the coin nestled safely in her pocket. Lyndal’s gaze fell to the sharp tusks, then moved over the dark woolly coat to the swollen belly.

  ‘And you’re sure she’s pregnant?’ she asked the ship merchant, who stood with one foot tapping.

  He nodded. ‘Just a few weeks off by the look of her.’

  Lyndal regarded the man, trying to figure out if he was trustworthy. The last thing she wanted was to return to the nobility borough with the animal and have her family laugh at her. ‘My sister is married to a commander, you know. So if no babies arrive within the next few weeks, you can expect him to be waiting here for you the next time your ship docks.’

  The man did not so much as blink. ‘If your sister is married to a commander, then how come a lady such as yourself is down here alone at the port?’

  That was a very reasonable question. ‘I’m free to go where I please. Every merchant here knows of my connection, as does every defender watching you from atop that wall.’ She gestured over her shoulder as she delivered the lie. Never mind the fact that Harlan had told her repeatedly not to enter the port without an escort.

  ‘The sow will birth boarlets before my next visit.’ The man straightened and crossed his arms. ‘Now, ten shillings, or she goes to the man waiting behind you.’

  Lyndal glanced over her shoulder to a balding man eyeing the boar. She swallowed, then pulled out her coin pouch, handing the ship merchant his money. He nodded his thanks and went to turn away. She grabbed his arm. ‘Wait. How am I supposed to get the crate to the merchant borough?’

  The man’s eyebrows lifted. ‘You don’t expect my men to venture into an enclosed borough riddled with defenders, do you?’

  Fair point.

  ‘Perhaps you could leash the animal and I could walk it?
’

  The merchant chuckled. ‘The sow will more likely walk you.’

  Lyndal chewed her lip as he turned and walked away. Before she could come up with any more terrible ideas, a throat cleared behind her. She turned to find Astin Fletcher standing there rubbing his freshly trimmed beard.

  Bodyguard of King Borin.

  Harlan’s best friend.

  And the only man with the ability to instantly darken her mood.

  For the love of…

  She turned to him, chin raised. ‘Defender.’

  Those cool grey eyes of his looked from her to the sea merchant to the boar. ‘I thought Commander Wright told you not to enter the port without an escort.’

  ‘Harlan is my brother-in-law, not my guardian.’ Her eyes narrowed. ‘And what are you doing here?’

  ‘I went to collect you from the shop. Birtle wasn’t entirely forthcoming when I questioned him on your whereabouts, so I figured you were somewhere you shouldn’t be.’ His eyes returned to the animal in the crate. ‘Tell me you’re not considering buying that thing.’

  ‘The deal is done,’ Lyndal replied. She cleared her throat. ‘Now I just need to get it off the dock.’

  Astin assessed her. ‘You do know that’s a boar, not a pig.’

  She rolled her eyes back in his direction. ‘It’s a domesticated boar.’

  ‘Is that what the ship merchant told you?’

  She scowled in place of a reply.

  ‘Let’s hope it’s familiar with the concept of fences.’ He looked in the direction of the ship. ‘We’re going to need some rope.’

  Lyndal’s shoulders relaxed. ‘You’ll help me?’

  ‘I don’t really have a choice.’ He pointed at the ground. ‘Don’t move from this spot.’ Then he walked off in the direction of the ship, returning with a length of rope.

  A few expert knots later, he had a harness made for the animal. Carefully, he partially opened the crate and secured it around the boar before opening it all the way. The animal took off, squealing and growling in protest as the harness pulled tightly around her. Astin waited several minutes for her to settle enough to attempt walking with her.

  ‘You right to carry the crate?’ Astin asked, once the boar had given up fighting him.

  Lyndal reached down and took a firm hold of it. It was heavier than she had anticipated, but she did not dare complain as she lifted it off the ground. ‘Yes, fine.’

  Astin looked sceptical but said nothing as he headed for the beach.

  She had only taken a few steps when she was forced to place it down again. She wiped her hands on her blue cotton dress and reached for it once more.

  ‘Step aside,’ Astin said, returning to her.

  She did as she was told, watching as he hoisted the crate in the air. He somehow managed to perch it on one shoulder as if it were a basket—all the while keeping hold of the boar.

  ‘Shall I take the pig?’ she offered.

  He glanced sideways at her. ‘And end up in the water?’

  She played with the ends of her long hair to give her hands something to do. It was bad enough that he had found her at the port—alone. Now he got to play the hero, and she was forced to let him.

  ‘Keep up, would you?’ he called over his shoulder.

  She glared at his back before following him down the dock.

  Lyndal’s sisters and mother stood in a line staring down at the crate with varied expressions. Blake’s brow was pinched in confusion, and Eda’s head was tilted as she curiously eyed the animal. Their mother’s mouth hung open, but no words came out.

  ‘In a few weeks, we shall have boarlets,’ Lyndal said, trying very hard not to look at Astin, who stood leaning against the cart with an amused expression. ‘And when they’re big, we can slaughter them for the merchant families who are really struggling.’

  ‘Boarlets?’ Blake said, tucking her hair behind her ears. ‘Not piglets?’

  Lyndal swallowed. ‘The domesticated pigs we’re familiar with from our youth are rarely seen outside the farming borough nowadays. This is the next best thing.’

  The boar squealed and thrashed as if poked with a hot rod. The crate rocked from side to side, then stilled.

  ‘You’ll need stronger fences,’ Astin said. ‘The pen you have at present won’t hold her.’

  ‘Yes, thank you, Farmer Fletcher,’ Lyndal said, glancing in his direction. ‘I know you’re on duty tonight, so we shan’t keep you.’

  Astin had a way of speaking to her that made her feel like a child in need of supervision. And his stormy stare was so penetrating, she often found herself looking away despite efforts to the contrary.

  The defender walked to the front of the cart and climbed up, gathering the reins.

  ‘Lyndal,’ Blake whispered. ‘At least thank the man for collecting you from the dock.’

  Thank him? She had endured a lecture on pig care for the entire length of the journey. How a defender knew about such things she had no idea.

  Drawing a breath, she called, ‘Thank you, defender. Your help today was much appreciated.’

  His gaze slid to hers, weighing her down once more. ‘Can you do me a favour?’

  ‘What’s that?’

  ‘Please don’t go buying a wildebeest believing it to be a cow. I’ll leave you on the dock next time.’

  Lyndal’s fingers curled closed as she drew a long, deep breath. But before she had a chance to respond, reins slapped the horse’s rump, and the cart pulled away. When she looked back at her sisters and mother, she found them all smiling at the ground.

  ‘Your laughter only encourages him,’ she pointed out.

  Blake pressed her lips together in an attempt to stop. ‘When you give him the ideal reaction, that too encourages him. He says these things to get a rise out of you, and it works every time.’

  Her mother, Candace, stepped forwards and took hold of Lyndal’s arms. ‘What on earth possessed you to buy a boar from a stranger?’

  ‘Oh, I don’t know. A decade of famine and rain that shows no sign of stopping? A new king who cares more about his appearance than his people? A distinct lack of meat in the merchant borough despite an ongoing supply? Take your pick.’

  ‘You cannot fix all the problems in the world,’ Candace said, brushing a thumb down her daughter’s cheek.

  ‘Which is why I’ll settle for one borough.’

  The boar thrashed in its crate, pulling the women’s attention. The harness Astin had made was now tangled around its neck and belly.

  Should I get my bow in case this all goes terribly wrong? Eda signed.

  They had hoped the youngest Suttone sister would have resumed speaking by her seventeenth birthday, but it had arrived and gone, and she continued to sign in place of speech—despite rather strong encouragement.

  ‘We can handle one boar between four of us,’ Lyndal said, pushing up the sleeves of her dress and staring down at the boar.

  ‘Three of you,’ Candace said. ‘I am too old to wrestle wild animals.’

  Blake approached the crate. ‘Keep your eyes on those tusks.’ She slid the door open enough for Eda to get her hand through and take hold of the rope. ‘I’ll open on three.’

  Lyndal positioned herself next to Blake, ready to catch the animal if it tried to flee.

  The family’s duck chose that moment to join the fun, coming at a run from the house.

  ‘Not now, Garlic! Go back inside.’

  Garlic ran straight up to Lyndal’s feet instead.

  ‘Ready?’ Blake asked, looking between them. ‘One, two, three.’ She tugged the crate open, and the boar flew out.

  While Eda had some muscle on her, thanks to her obsession with weapons and sparring, she was no match for the pregnant boar. Her arms were almost pulled from their sockets as she hit the ground. She was dragged six feet before Blake leapt after her, catching hold of the rope. The boar came to a stop, squealing in protest.

  ‘Goodness,’ Candace said, hand pressed to her chest. ‘
I thought you said the animal is domesticated.’

  Lyndal ran over to help her sisters. ‘She is. That’s why she’s running away instead of trying to kill us.’

  A horse approaching at a canter made them all look in the direction of the front path. And there was Lord Thomas, seated upon his tall chestnut gelding, face clean-shaven and hair neat despite the speed at which he travelled. He pulled up his horse in front of them, eyes immediately going to the boar.

  ‘Uncle,’ Lyndal said, her voice a few pitches too high.

  Eda tried to brush some of the fresh mud off her dress but only managed to smear it more.

  ‘For heaven’s sake,’ Thomas said, shaking his head. ‘You have been living in the nobility borough for more than a year now, and still you present yourselves as the lowest form of peasant.’

  Candace stepped into his line of sight, as if that might somehow erase the scene before him. ‘My lord, we had no idea you were paying us a visit.’

  ‘I see that.’ He dismounted and walked over to his sister-in-law. ‘The king and queen mother are coming to dine with us tomorrow, and the queen has asked that Lyndal attend.’

  Lyndal glanced at Blake, whose surprised expression mirrored her own. ‘Queen Fayre? I’ve never even met her.’

  Thomas waved a dismissive hand. ‘That is what happens when one makes a nuisance of themselves. They suddenly become visible.’

  Eda crossed her arms and glared at her uncle.