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A TRIO OF SINGERS BOW before Everleigh and ask permission to perform. She nods her agreement and they take up their places below the dais. With all eyes on them, Della can slip away with Addyson. “Just go straight to her room, lock the door. Please, keep her safe.”
Della nods, her face is pale with fear but full of determination; she will not let Everleigh or Addyson down. She gestures for Finn and the teacher to follow her and they quickly flee the room.
Everleigh isn’t sure if there is a real threat or if Ceryn is worrying over nothing, but she has to trust her new friend’s instincts. Even though she was wrong about Brett, she was right too. He had been on Millard’s side and he had attacked both her and Archer in the past and he had knocked Will out and taken Everleigh. It wasn’t really Ceryn’s fault if all those facts led her to kill him. That she didn’t know he had changed his ways. How could she have known?
Keeping her head high and a smile on her face, beating her hand on the table in time to the music, trying to calm her heart, Everleigh looks around. Would Millard’s men attack her? Even without his say so? If they knew he was still alive, then possibly. Probably.
Once he’s dead. Maybe not.
Archer is sitting by her, seemingly unconcerned, but she can see that he’s not relaxed. He’s primed, ready to go, to jump up. His knuckles are white and when he reaches for a dagger from his boot, her stomach flips again.
“How many men did your father have?” His voice is quiet, serious, but his face is a mask of happiness.
“More than five hundred.”
“How many serve Millard?”
“Less than that. Many of my father’s men were old. They retired after his death. His murder.”
“Fighters?”
“Not all. Most are guardsmen. Able to bar a doorway with a sword. Real fighters? Less than fifty.”
“Less than fifty.”
“A match for you? Less than ten.”
“Less than ten.”
He’s nodding as he assesses the room. He thinks Ceryn is right. The guards who should be stood stock still and guarding, are slipping in and out of the room, whispering, nodding, stealing supposedly furtive glances at Everleigh.
“You cannot be captured. Take this.” He passes her the dagger. “I don’t need it. If something happens, flee, and if anyone tries to stop you, stab them and then run. Go to your sister. Lock the door.”
Everleigh nods and she’s not sure if it’s the anticipation of trouble or because she has a weapon in her hand but suddenly the air is full of tension; the hairs on her arm and the back of her neck stand up.
Ceryn has paused and Weaver has his head cocked to the side. Archer pushes himself to his feet and joins them. The three of them confer for a second and then fan out. Ceryn – who to outsiders appears the easiest to defeat – heads to the door and Archer and Weaver walk either side of her, but head off at an angle.
Her intuition is spot on, three seconds after the three friends split, the door is banged open and a rush of men storm in. The commoners and castle visitors scream and the sound of stools being pushed back is ear splitting. The little maids join in with high pitched shrieks.
Ceryn heads straight towards the first man and splits him in half with her sword, before ducking to the left and running another guard through. She spins in an arc lifting her sword as she goes; slashing one guard through his stomach and taking the head off another.
Weaver and Archer barrel in from the sides and with swords aloft and daggers out they start taking out the remaining King’s men alongside Ceryn.
Everleigh cannot move. So far not one of Millard’s men has got through the general throng of people and fighters to get anywhere near her, which is a lucky thing, because she cannot take her eyes off the three of them: her new protectors. They are amazing to watch, slashing and severing, ducking and pirouetting. It’s almost like a dance. A bloody dance. It’s fascinating to behold.
And frightening.
And reassuring.
If these three choose to continue to serve her, she will be safe; she has no doubt. She’d love to see her brother try to go up against any one of them.
And Ceryn. She is a masked warrior. She is quick and sure footed and fast and sprightly. She can leap while slashing with a sword and stabbing with a dagger at the same time. She is no better with one weapon or another, one hand or another. She is fierce and frightening; a true fighter.
Everleigh knows she needs to get to safety but her feet are rooted to the floor. Still no one has passed the trio of fighters to reach her, or get close. Now that the castle visitors have cleared out, the commoners have started fighting amongst themselves and the little maids are lining the edges of the room like witnesses under duress.
And all Everleigh can see is blood and all she can hear are the soft thuds as body after body drops to the floor, dead or dying.
The last one standing stands no more and Ceryn, Archer and Weaver spread out, ready to spring forward if needed, assessing the damage and the danger.
There are groans from some of the bodies and they quickly finish them off between them, stabbing their daggers straight into the hearts of the ailing.
Everleigh drops down into her chair, exhausted from watching them, and the sound of the leg scraping the floor breaks the spell. The remaining commoners, sporting different degrees of bruises and blood shuffle out. The little maids dare to move and clear out as quickly as they are able.
Ceryn, Archer and Weaver hobble towards the dais and sink into the seats in front of it. Not one of them is injured but they are tired. Everleigh runs down to meet them, calling to a little maid on the way to bring ale, and something sweet for them to eat.
“Why are you still here?” Archer’s voice is filled with anguish. “They would have killed you.”
“I’m sorry. I couldn’t move. I couldn’t stop watching you all. You’re amazing.”
Ceryn is shaking her head, wiping sweat off her brow. “That was close.”
“You were outnumbered at least ten to one but none of you has a scratch on you.”
“Today. But if we had to do that again today or tomorrow? Every time it would get harder.”
“We need reinforcements. We cannot keep you safe with just us three.”
“I think you did pretty well.”
A little maid places food and drink in front of them and the three of them dig in, suddenly famished.
“Weaver, what do you think about heading to the villages, gathering some of the young men, boys we know and trust.”
“Try to put an army together?”
“We need one and who can say which of Millard’s men would be true to Everleigh. I wouldn’t want to risk it.”
“Me neither. They are more likely to attack her themselves than save her. I’ll go.” Weaver nods as he talks. “I can think of two dozen off the top of my head that I’d trust.”
“Head off in the morning then. I think we could all do with a rest now.”
“What about Will?”
“I don’t mind looking for Will,” Ceryn says. “I’m sure you two have some catching up to do.”
Archer and Everleigh smile at each other and nod.
“I’m sure he’s drowning his sorrows somewhere around the castle.”
“I hope you’re right. We’ll collect Addyson, Della, Finn and the teacher and go to my room. I want us all in one place.”
They all nod; it makes sense. Ceryn heads out of the great hall, striding quickly, seemingly unperturbed after killing dozens of men and Weaver rushes to catch up with her.
“Are we safe to leave here?” Everleigh asks Archer, standing up next to him, suddenly feeling awkward, alone with him.
“You will always be safe with me. I promise.”
“I believe you. I’m so glad you’re not dead.”
Archer laughs. “Sorry. It’s just such a funny thing to hear. I probably should be dead. I’m starting to remember things from the coronation. I can remember fighting with your brother.”
“I hate him. I hate him for everything he’s doing. I thought he’d killed you.”
“I thought he had too. When I woke up and saw the teacher peering down at me, I thought I’d died and was seeing the gods.”
“Really?”
“I was terrified. Then I realised who it was, and I just wanted to run back to you. I wanted to kill Millard.”
“I tried to kill him. That night.”
“You said. You shouldn’t have.”
“I had to try.”
“You shouldn’t have. It’s not safe to go near him.”
“I know that now. But I wanted it over. He killed Halfreda and you...well.”
“How close did you get? Were you scared.”
“Petrified. I had the tip of a knife at his throat. He woke up. But, like I said, he told me that if I killed him, his guards would kill Addyson as soon as they found his dead body. I couldn’t risk it.”
“You were so lucky he didn’t kill you.”
“I see that...now – but I was so angry with him, so fed up. I want it all over.”
“We’ll find him and then it will be. And you’re here now. You can rule in his place.”
“It won’t be over till he’s dead.”
“Maybe not. But it will be better than it was.”
“That would be good.”
They leave the great hall, stepping around the bodies and blood as best they can, just as Ginata is coming in. Her hands go to her mouth, horror written over her face. “What happened?” She does a double-take as she registers Archer. “How-” She cannot even speak.
Everleigh smiles. She knows the feeling. “Archer’s alive. He was wearing a shield under his clothes and the teacher came back and saved him. Brett was on our side and took me to them after he hit Will, but Ceryn didn’t know and she killed him.”
Ginata sits down and fortunately lands on a stool, not a body. “That’s a lot to take in.”
Everleigh takes her hand. “Let’s go. It’s horrible in here. We’re going to fetch Addyson, Della, Finn and the teacher and go to my room. Ceryn and Weaver have gone to look for Will so that we can all be together tonight. We’ll be safe then.”
“What happened here?” Ginata gestures at the dead bodies.
“Millard’s men attacked us.”
“Is he here?”
“No sign of him. And we killed them all. Well, I didn’t. Ceryn, Archer and Weaver did.”
“Thank goodness. Oh, Everleigh I’m so glad you’re alright and you’re here.” They embrace for a long time and Ginata is relieved that nothing seems amiss between them. Whatever her sins are, they aren’t evident to anyone other than herself.