Chapter 35
Astin sat on the cold stone floor of his cell with his back against the wall, staring at reddened knuckles. He had not had a chance to think through the best course of action—he had simply reacted. Something inside him had snapped. Every violent thought he had suppressed over the years had risen to the surface in one dangerous surge. He knew with certainty that if those men had not dragged him off the king, he would have beaten him to death. For Lyndal. For the merchants. For people like his sister who suffered at the hands of those kinds of men.
He looked up at the sound of footsteps and saw Harlan. The commander leaned his shoulder on the bars.
‘Can’t say I’m surprised,’ he said. ‘I’m more surprised it didn’t happen sooner.’
Astin tipped his head back, resting on the wall. ‘Bastard had a knife to her neck.’
Harlan nodded. ‘I get it. Just wondering how you being locked up helps.’
Astin banged the back of his head on the wall before climbing to his feet. ‘Do you know where she is? If she’s all right?’
‘She’s with Queen Fayre, and Eda’s confined to her bedchamber. They’ve put a guard outside her door to make sure she stays there.’
Astin dropped his head to the bars.
‘Even if by some miracle they don’t execute you,’ Harlan said, ‘you’ll never be permitted within a mile of the king again.’
‘Probably for the best.’ He took a hold of the bars. ‘And where was Thornton earlier? He wasn’t even there.’
‘He did the two most valuable things he could in that situation. He got Queen Fayre involved and removed Eda from the scene. Thornton knows what he’s doing. He would have weighed up every option.’
Astin pinched the top of his nose. ‘God forbid Lyndal do something sensible like leave with them.’
Harlan was silent a moment. ‘She’s not here for the crown. She’s here for the merchants. She’s already proven she’ll put them ahead of her own safety when she agreed to marry the king. None of us like it, but we all understand it’s her sacrifice to make.’
Astin turned and leaned his back on the bars. ‘And now the merchants know about the livestock.’
Harlan nodded. ‘And we brace for war.’
‘And what side will you fight on?’ Astin asked. ‘How do you choose?’
‘It’s impossible. For me it’s a daily choice. Which way my sword points depends on who’s most at risk. Then I ask myself what the cost of my choice will be to those around me.’ He shifted his weight. ‘Today you chose to break the king’s nose.’
Astin exhaled in place of laughter. ‘Best part of my week.’
‘And now Lyndal is scrambling to keep you alive because she’s the only one with any real leverage.’
Astin turned back at the sound of someone jogging up the stairs. A young defender emerged, looking frantically around. He seemed relieved when he spotted Harlan.
‘The warden wants you on the north wall at once, Commander. It’s urgent.’
Harlan straightened. ‘Urgent how?’
‘English troops in the thousands a mile out.’
Astin looked at Harlan. ‘How many wars can one king fight in a day do you suppose?’
‘Sit tight,’ Harlan said, heading for the stairwell. ‘We’re about to find out.’
It should have been unsettling to play across from a woman wearing a blood-splattered dress, but the queen mother was not the slightest bit fazed by Lyndal’s appearance. She had sent Borin to his quarters to calm down, like one does a child, before meeting Lyndal on the terrace. Rain fell hard around them, yet that was no longer a peculiar thing either.
‘I have sent for a physician to tend to your neck,’ Fayre said before moving one of her pawns.
Lyndal touched the superficial cut on her throat, then moved a piece on the board.
‘You were right about my son selling livestock to England,’ Fayre said, taking her turn. ‘I looked into it, and then I raised the matter directly with the king.’
