Page 39 of A Kingdom of Lies

“If they did,” I said, speaking the obvious, “they’d already be on route to Lockinge.”

There was no arguing my point. If the fey had been brought here, unharmed, it was because they didn’t have magic. That’s when I saw the bulking shape of a man walking across the courtyard with slow steps. Across his shoulder was an axe, almost the same size as him.

These children would never make it out of Finstock, not with breath in their lungs.

“We need distract them,” Althea said, conviction dripping from her tongue. “There is no other option.”

Gyah began thrashing against the window, slamming fists into the crumbling brink wall beside it. Althea was screaming, waving desperate hands outside. I got to collecting empty bowls of gruel we’d been given to eat yesterday. I hoisted them over my shoulder, throwing them out and upon the Hunters below.

It was working – somewhat.

All I could think about was how I’d devour the entire castle in an ice-born storm if I had my magic.

Another figure caught my attention beyond the window, just as I was about to throw the last plate down on the Hunters. I recognised him instantly. Duncan. He ran, legs pounding across the ground as he moved past the excited Hunters who had gathered for the arrival; even from our view I could see that something was wrong. Then his own shouts drowned out that of the children.

“Calm yourself down, the lot of you!” Duncan’s deep voice thundered through the courtyard, echoing up the grey, stone walls towards our perch in the chamber room. With long strides he was out onto the worn path that led to the fortress. As he passed the large Hunter with the axe, he barrelled through him, pushing him to the side and knocking the weapon onto the floor.

“Is that?” Althea muttered.

“Duncan,” I confirmed, narrowing my gaze to watch as he unsheathed his sword, the black metal glinting as he raised it towards the Hunter who led the fey into Finstock’s courtyard. We could no longer hear him from the distance, but his movements were dramatic and frantic. He swung his sword wide, pointing it at each and every Hunter as he berated them.

“They are all distracted,” Gyah said, eyes widening as the desperate idea came to mind. “Now is the time to get out whilst we can.”

Althea’s weight was taken from my side as Gyah took over, half dragging her towards the locked door.

“We need to think about this. If we get out this door, there is a wall of Hunters to get through before we get to the children. Althea can hardly stand, and we have no weapons or power.”

“It is worth a try,” Gyah countered. “Ithasto be.”

I carried on watching the scene unfold beyond the window as Gyah and Althea smashed the few pieces of aged furniture into the door. Perhaps I should’ve helped, but there was something about Duncan and his reaction that captured my interest.

A horror that mirrored my own.

Duncan then cocked back a fist and cracked it into the face of the Hunter he was shouting at.

“They’re fighting,” I snapped, fingers gripping the stone ledge as I watched Duncan take another Hunter by the scruff of the neck. In a single breath, Duncan had snapped his arm back and smashed the hilt of his sword into the side of his skull. The Hunter went down, falling to the ground like a sack of useless shit. Blood leaked from a wound, bone gleaming beneath the crimson stream as he cried in pain.

“We do not need a running commentary, Robin,” Gyah snapped, smashing the splintered leg of a chair into the door. “Get over here now and help us break this door down.”

“No… I – I don’t think they need our help.” I couldn’t explain it, but Duncan was violently displeased with whatever was happening outside. If only I could hear him. “Duncan is doing something.”

What was he doing? Fighting his own people. Waving his sword around, the point aimed at each Hunter who’d just been celebrating the arrival of the three fey children.

“Althea. Gyah,” I shouted, finally drawing their full attention. “Duncan… he is fighting the Hunter. His own…” I could hardly make sense of what I saw, let alone put it into words. “Just come and see.”

Perhaps it was realisation that they weren’t going to break free from the room, or the fact that a Hunter was fighting against his own people, that had them clambering back to my side.

The atmosphere of the fortress had changed. The giddy, hungry excitement of the Hunters who watched the arrival of the fey became a sombre mood as Duncan stormed back towards the fortress. He held his sword at his side, face pinched with pure fury. Then, for a moment, he looked up to our window and caught my stare. I stepped back, stopped by Gyah, who watched over my shoulder.

Duncan turned back to his Hunters again, this time close enough that we could hear him.

“Have I not warned you simple fuckers enough? Children! No children are to be brought to my camp. Not now. Notever.” Hunters parted out of Duncan’s way as though he was a wave of boiling water ready to devour anything in his path. “Look at you all. Salivating like desperate dogs. Don’t give me a reason to put each and every one of you down.”

“It’s sustenance for Duwar!” I couldn’t see who had shouted, but the comment drained the blood from my face, and Duncan’s.

He stopped dead in his tracks, fists clenched at his sides as he pondered the words that had silenced the entire crowd. Behind him the caged fey had already begun to move towards the fortress, guided by two large horses. But the children no longer cried; from fear, or confusion, I wasn’t sure.

“Sustenance?” If it was not for the silent, tense gathering who watched for Duncan’s reaction, I may have missed his reply. “If that is what you wish to provide our God then offer yourself up. In fact, allow me to spill your life in his name. Bitter as your blood may be, Duwar would find your sacrifice most satisfying… as would I.”

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