‘Open the gate!’ Astin roared, approaching at a run.
It opened just wide enough to let him slip through, then clapped shut behind him. He ran along the bottom of the wall, searching for any signs of a descent. When he did not find anything, he stopped, cursing as he turned in a circle. A few more defenders had emerged from the castle to join the hunt.
‘Find the warden,’ Astin shouted at one. ‘Where’s the king?’
The young defender was struck in the left side of his face with an arrow before he got a word out. A scream erupted from him. Astin jogged backwards and pressed himself against the wall, breathing hard as he searched the shadows around him.
‘Take cover!’ Astin called to the other defenders.
But his warning was too late. An arrow came from the other direction, striking another defender in the side.
‘Multiple shooters!’ Astin shouted as he took off at a sprint towards the castle. His job was to get to the king, and yet it was Lyndal’s face that flashed in his mind. Clever words would not save her from arrows.
A defender circled the fountain in the courtyard, hand resting on his weapon. He stopped when he saw Astin running towards him. ‘What’s going on?’
‘Draw your sword, defender. We’re under attack. Where’s the king?’’
‘The hall, sir.’
Astin slowed to a jog when he reached the chapel, carefully moving along the wall towards the music. If music was still playing, then the king was still alive. The thought buzzed in his mind as an arrow whistled overhead, bouncing off the stone wall. He was out of time. Rounding the corner, Astin headed for the hall.
‘Intruders!’ he called to the defender at the door.
When the defender went to draw his sword, a figure emerged from the darkness, a blade glinting in his hand.
‘Behind you!’ Astin called too late.
The defender’s throat was slashed, and he fell to his knees, clutching his throat. Astin tackled the man with the knife to the ground while driving his weapon into his stomach. He thrust it upwards before jumping to his feet.
‘Defenders to the doors!’ Astin shouted as he charged in. The music stopped, and all the guests, Lyndal and Kendra among them, turned to look at him. ‘I need everyone under the tables.’
Lyndal’s eyes went to his bloodied uniform. Then she reached for Kendra, dragging her towards the closest table.
‘All of you,’ Astin said when no one else moved.
Stanford, one of Borin’s other bodyguards, was already dragging the young king from his chair. ‘Is there a threat?’
‘You could say that.’
Borin peered around his bodyguard. ‘What sort of threat?’
‘You cannot expect Chadora’s nobility to get down on their hands and knees,’ Lady Henley said, appearing outraged by the suggestion.
Astin ignored her, stopping one of the defenders who went to pass him. ‘Cover Queen Fayre. We don’t know how many there are.’
‘What do you mean, you do not know how many there are?’ Borin asked.
Queen Fayre closed her eyes. ‘Let him do his job.’
Panic broke out as the guests realised the seriousness of the situation, trays of food and jars of wine falling to the floor as people hurried to take cover. Astin’s eyes went to Lyndal, who had reappeared to help Lady Henley.
‘Quickly now,’ Lyndal was saying, guiding her to the ground. Then, seeing there were still people out in the open, she returned for them.
While Astin admired her level head in a crisis, he was about to throw her under that table himself if she did not take cover.
The thud of an arrow hitting flesh made him turn. The defender at the door staggered backwards, and a moment later, a bow swung into view, a fresh arrow pointed right at Astin.
Raising his sword, Astin threw it at the sliver of a man pressed against the door frame. It spun through the air, destroying the bow. In two strides he reached Lyndal, all but throwing her to the ground. She sucked in a surprised breath before crawling beneath the table. The now bowless intruder drew his sword and marched into the room, jaw set and eyes ablaze. And Astin stood in the way of what he came for.
