by Tanya Bird
‘It wasn’t a one-time deal, was it?’
Presley shook her head as they walked beneath the bare trees that were once an orchard. ‘I think they’re under the illusion that they can keep it from the rest of the kingdom.’
‘And the fallout will be disastrous.’
‘What’s happening in the merchant borough is already disastrous. So much preventable death. I hope the new queen has a plan.’
‘Oh, she does.’
Presley watched him for a moment. ‘Of all the women you could have fallen in love with, you had to go and fall in love with her.’
He stopped walking. ‘You drew that conclusion based on what?’
She sighed. ‘Seeing the two of you together.’
‘For all of five minutes?’
‘Well, you made up your mind about Chadwick after two.’ She looked away, shaking her head. ‘I don’t have a ton of choices like you did.’
That last part got to him. ‘What are you talking about? I never had choices.’
‘You chose to leave.’
‘You think that was a choice? Was I supposed to wait around until he beat me to death?’ When she did not reply, he said, ‘If this is about me leaving, surely you understand that I couldn’t take you with me. I was hardly going to take you from the comfort of your home to live on the streets.’
Her eyes snapped back to his. ‘The comfort of my home? Is that how you remember it?’
Astin’s hands went to rest on his hips. ‘You know what I mean.’
‘No, I don’t.’
‘I would have been taking you from your mother, from regular food, from a warm bed—’
‘You would have been taking me away from him.’
Astin searched her tear-filled eyes. ‘If he had taken his belt to you even once, I would never have left you behind.’
She blinked. ‘His belt? You think he needed a belt to hurt me?’ Shaking her head, she stepped back. ‘You should go. If he sees you here, Mother will be the one who pays.’
Astin did not move. ‘If there’s something you haven’t told me—’
‘I’m not doing this.’ She began walking in the direction of the house, arms wrapping her like a shield.
‘Presley.’
She picked up her pace, so he jogged to catch up. ‘Tell me he never laid a hand on you.’
She turned to him, panting. ‘It doesn’t matter now. Your question’s years too late. He never flogged me with his belt, never hit me, never kicked me in the face or held my head underwater. He never did those things to me. Happy?’
Astin felt sick as a realisation hit him. ‘Oh shit.’ He linked his hands atop his head, turning in a circle. ‘I’m going to fucking kill him.’
‘And what will that change? The damage is done.’
‘You should have told me. I would have protected you.’
She started to cry. ‘I couldn’t. He said if I told anyone he would kill our mother—and I had every reason to believe him.’
Astin stopped moving. ‘He doesn’t still—’
‘No. He hasn’t touched me since I was fifteen, since the day Mother found out.’
He stared at her, his stomach rolling. ‘Why have you stayed here all these years? I could have found you work, somewhere to live.’
She looked up at him. ‘Why do you think?’
‘Rose.’ His hands fell to his sides. ‘You stayed to protect her.’
‘Yes, I stayed to protect her, because that’s what a good mother does.’ Presley wiped fresh tears off her cheeks and looked in the direction of the house. ‘I stayed because she’s my daughter.’
Chapter 34
Seven days. Seven days without one word from him. Seven days without his warmth, without his eyes on her. Seven torturous days.
Lyndal spent those days on the terrace and in the gardens. She walked, she sat, she watched the sky. She was waiting for the sun to return, but every day the clouds gathered. And every day it rained. She refused to retreat from it though, hopeful that it might cleanse her of the guilt she had carried every single day since standing in front of Astin and breaking both their hearts.
On day seven, she leaned on the balustrade of the terrace, face turned up to the sky. The colder the drops that fell the better.
Eda and Roul watched her from the doorway, letting her do whatever she needed to in order to be able to face the king for an evening.
Lyndal had confessed everything to her sister, cried out every ugly truth before swearing her to secrecy. No one could know. If Blake found out, Harlan would find out, then Astin. She knew he would never stand for it. He would die trying to free her from that life if he caught even the slightest whiff that it was not of her choosing.
So what exactly is your plan now? Eda had asked.
‘To stop people dying’ had been her response.
To stop Astin from dying.
She would find a way to exist within these walls, because she was a merchant. Internalising pain was a part of life.
So each night, she dined with the king and his guests. Smiling. Behaving. Never looking in Astin’s direction. She pushed beef around her plate, watching Borin’s thin mouth while he talked and studying his hair, wondering what he put in it that made it sit so stiff. That would lead her to think about Astin’s hair, how it was a little longer than the average defender, how it had a slight wave in it. It was pure silk to touch. And his mouth full, his lips slightly upturned, like he was about to tell a joke and was already laughing internally. But those lips had sat in a hard line of late—her fault.
In return for all these unsaid things, the king did not lay a hand on her or ask her to sleep with him again.
Eda appeared next to her on the terrace when the rain stopped, a concerned expression on her face. Apparently you have a dress fitting. Should I have the maid run a bath?
Lyndal let go of the balustrade. It was only a week until the wedding, and she resented every small task to do with it, even if it was simply standing still for the seamstress. ‘No. Let’s take a walk instead.’
Eda and Roul exchanged a look.
‘You always like going to the stables to see the horses,’ Lyndal said, pushing back the hood of her cloak. ‘Let’s go there instead.’
They exited the castle and made their way down to the stables outside the wall. When a groom approached asking if he required a horse, Roul shook his head. The women strolled the length of the stalls, stopping to pet the horses. When they emerged on the other side, they spotted King Borin returning from the farming borough, Thatchere flanking him. Likely not a coincidence that Astin did not accompany the king on those occasions.
Lyndal checked over her shoulder to ensure Roul was not within hearing range. ‘No doubt plotting their next external livestock deal.’
I’m tempted to tell the merchants what’s going on, then join their fight, Eda signed. Would solve a number of problems.
‘And kill a lot of people.’
Borin caught sight of Lyndal as he walked. She saw him sigh before he offered a wave. He had clearly planned to skip any awkward and unnecessary conversation, which suited her perfectly, but then a commotion at the merchant gate made him stop and turn.
Lyndal looked to Roul. ‘Did something happen in the merchant borough?’
He glanced in that direction, then gestured towards the castle. ‘Better get you inside.’
Borin was now marching towards the merchant gate, his bodyguard following at his heel.
‘Let’s go,’ Roul said.
The women looked at each other, then followed the king.
‘You’re only going to piss him off,’ Roul called to them.
The girls ignored him and continued on. As they drew closer, Lyndal saw there was a decent crowd gathered at the gate, pushing and shouting. Two defenders stood at the front, shoving them back.
‘What in heaven’s name is going on here?’ the king shouted. ‘Get those merchants back from the gate at once.’ He turned when he heard Lyndal approaching behind him. �
��What are you doing here?’
She was so used to his rude tone now that it barely registered. ‘Seeing if there’s anything I can do to help.’
He scowled, turning back to the merchants.
A woman pushed between the guards and flung herself at the gate. ‘Is it true?’ she screamed, eyes on the king. ‘Did you sell our food to outside the wall?’
Borin paled. ‘Take your crazy accusations elsewhere, and get off my gate.’
Lyndal’s heart slowed. They knew. It had only been a matter of time before people found out the truth, and that time was now.
‘You come here!’ the woman screamed. ‘You come out here and look at what you’ve done.’
Lyndal rose up onto her toes to see what the woman was referring to, and her chest squeezed when she spotted three dead children laid out at the defenders’ feet. Her heels dropped to the ground, and she turned to Roul. ‘I need you to go inside and tell Queen Fayre what’s happening out here. Take my sister with you. She’s safest with you.’
‘I’m not allowed to leave you unguarded,’ Roul said.
Lyndal pointed to the defenders on their side of the gate. ‘Do I look unguarded? Go. Queen Fayre will know what to do.’
I’m not leaving you, Eda signed, but Lyndal was already walking off in the direction of the gate, where a defender had drawn his weapon. He was hitting the woman through the latticed wood with the hilt of his sword.
‘For the love of Belenus,’ Borin shouted. ‘Get back.’
‘Stop hitting her,’ Lyndal called to the defender. ‘Can’t you see she’s grieving? She’s unarmed.’
‘He killed them!’ the woman said, her bloodied knuckles around the wood. ‘He’s going to kill us all.’
Borin marched forwards. ‘You dare slander my good name.’
Lyndal moved closer to the gate, hands going over the woman’s icy fingers. ‘I’m so sorry for your loss.’ When she heard the king approaching behind her, she whispered. ‘Move back. They’re going to hurt you if you don’t move back.’
Misery-filled eyes locked with hers. ‘This is our fight, not yours.’
Lyndal flinched when a spray of something warm hit her face. She wiped at her cheek, then looked down at her fingers.
Blood.
It was not until her eyes returned to the woman that she noticed the blade through her throat. Lyndal followed it all the way up to Borin’s twisted face. She gasped when he yanked it free, then watched as the woman slumped against the gate and slid to the ground.
Lyndal blinked, unable to move.
Then noise poured in. Screaming, cursing, weeping. The merchants on the other side were holding their heads in disbelief.
‘She was unarmed,’ Lyndal said, her voice barely carrying.
Borin brought his face close to hers. ‘This is what comes of your interference.’
She strained to hear him over the buzzing in her mind. A man made it through the defenders on the other side, only to be speared with a sword by a defender this side of the gate. More blood. More death.
‘Tell them to stop,’ she begged.
‘Have you completely lost your mind?’ Borin said. ‘My men are doing their job.’
She made a move for the gate, but he grabbed her arm, fingers digging in. She tore free. ‘Do not touch me.’ Turning back to the gate, she shouted, ‘They’re unarmed.’
Borin took hold of her once again, spinning her around. ‘Listen to me,’ he roared, flecks of spit hitting her face. ‘You will return to the castle this instant or I will throw you back into that borough where you belong.’
Lyndal blinked, trying to focus. ‘You’re disgusting. What sort of monster kills an unarmed, grieving woman?’ She spat in his face, all self-control gone.
Borin grabbed her by the throat, squeezing.
‘Go ahead,’ Lyndal choked out. ‘Let everyone see.’
His eyes flicked to the gate, and then he threw her at his guard, Thatchere. ‘Get her out of my sight!’
Thatchere caught her, but she pulled free, coughing. Who else would speak up if not her? She fixed her eyes on the king, who was now shouting instructions to the defenders on the wall.
‘Kill any man or woman who refuses to leave the square.’ He stepped up to the gate. ‘You want to behave like animals? Then you better be prepared to be slaughtered like one!’
Footsteps pounded on the wall above her, archers loading their longbows. Then came screams as the first round of arrows was released into the crowd.
‘Tell your men to stand down,’ Lyndal called to the king, leaping sideways when Thatchere reached for her. ‘You’re making it worse.’
He turned, eyes like two raging fires. ‘I told you to leave!’
‘Not until you call off your men. Please. I’ll help you. I’ll speak to them.’
He closed the distance between them, then drew a knife from a sheath that Lyndal had always assumed to be decorative. So she was quite surprised when she felt the sharp blade against her neck.
‘I should have shot you in the square that day,’ he said, his voice just loud enough for her to hear.
She stopped breathing, not because there was a knife pointed at her neck but because the hate in his voice was as thick as the blood running beneath the gate. She turned her head a fraction to meet his eyes, feeling a slight sting as she did so. ‘Call off your men. If you don’t, no army will be able to suppress their fury.’
She felt the pressure on her neck ease.
‘You are lucky I need you alive,’ Borin whispered. ‘For now.’
The fire in his eyes dulled to embers as he withdrew the knife. But just as it left her neck, a body slammed into him, and he went hurtling to the ground, sliding all the way to the gate. Lyndal watched in shock as Astin climbed on top of the king and raised a fist, bringing it down on his face, once, twice. Two defenders reached him before the third punch, dragging him off.
‘You piece of shit!’ Astin shouted. ‘You pull a knife on her?’
Borin groaned, slowly getting onto all fours, then spitting blood on the ground. He lifted his head to look at Astin, who was barely restrained. ‘You traitorous bastard. You of all people know how this ends.’
One of the defenders kicked the back of Astin’s knee, and he dropped to the ground. Puffs of steam came from his mouth with every breath. His eyes met Lyndal’s, unafraid and unapologetic.
She struggled to process what was unfolding in front of her. Reaching up, she fingered the sticky blood on her neck. It glistened on her fingers. That was when she became aware of the silence. The unruly crowd on the other side of the gate had reduced to murmurs and shuffles of feet. The merchants were watching them, as were the archers atop the wall. All eyes were on the king as he slowly rose to his feet. Borin drew his bloodied sword, and the two defenders restraining Astin exchanged a look.
‘What are you doing?’ Lyndal said, her feet carrying her forwards. ‘Your Grace.’
Borin glanced in her direction. ‘For God’s sake, will someone get her out of my sight?’
Thatchere came forwards, but before he reached her, Lyndal bent and snatched up the dagger Borin had dropped on the ground. The defender stopped short of her, not because he was afraid but because he seemed unsure how to proceed.
‘Lyndal.’ Her name was a warning growl from Astin’s lips.
Borin’s eyebrows lifted in amusement. ‘What exactly do you plan on doing with that? Are you going to start killing people?’
She brought the blade to her own throat. ‘If you kill him, we both die, and every merchant on the other side of that wall will have another reason to hate you.’
Astin’s eyes widened. ‘Put the knife down.’
She shook her head. ‘No.’
Footsteps came at a run, and a moment later, Queen Fayre appeared in her line of sight, Eda and Roul with her.
‘Lyndal,’ the queen mother said, her voice slow and level. ‘I need you to put down the knife and come to your sister. She is very distressed.’
Clever. She was hitting Lyndal in her most vulnerable area. ‘If anyone hurts him, I swear before Belenus, and every god before and after him, that I’ll cut my own throat.’ Her eyes went to the gate. ‘And you will all know who drove me to it!’
‘Are you trying to start a war?’ Borin hissed.
The war had already started.
Eda took a step forwards, but Roul caught her arm. She stood there with a helpless expression.
‘Lyndal,’ Astin said, his voice strangled. ‘Please put the knife down.’
Borin looked between them, and a realisation dawned on his face. ‘Ah, now I see it.’ He slowly nodded. ‘I must say, I expected more from you, Fletcher. You were the last person I thought would fall prey to her. I guess you were not as smart as I thought.’
‘Son,’ Queen Fayre said. ‘Have Fletcher taken to the tower, and the three of us will move inside and deal with the matter privately. This is not the place.’
‘No,’ Lyndal said. ‘I don’t trust you not to kill him.’
Fayre moved slowly, walking out to stand directly in Lyndal’s line of sight. ‘What do you think will happen to all those people on the other side of the gate if you take your own life?’
A ragged breath escaped Lyndal. ‘I want your word he won’t be harmed and that the archers will stand down. No more killing.’
Fayre searched her eyes, then nodded. ‘You have my word. No more killing.’
‘That is not your decision,’ Borin squawked behind her.
She rounded on him. ‘Have you learned nothing? I am still trying to clean up the last mess you made.’ She lowered her voice. ‘Look around you and think.’
Borin looked in the direction of the gate, then threw his sword on the ground in a tantrum. ‘You heard her. Take Fletcher to the tower.’ Then to Lyndal, he said, ‘You tell the merchants they have exactly one minute to leave the square before my archers start shooting again. Any further deaths will be on you.’
The second Lyndal lowered the knife from her throat, Roul stepped forwards to take it from her.
Borin walked over to Astin as he was pulled to his feet. ‘This is not over, traitor.’ With his hands balled into fists, the young king strode off, shouting, ‘I want that square clear!’