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KEEP READING TO ENJOY the first few chapters of the second book in The Kingmaker Series...
Lanorie
I cannot speak. Oh, well you know that’s not true. I can speak but I can’t believe what I’m saying.
Everleigh was meant to be Queen today. It’s all she’s talked about all week, since she made the river rise. It’s all I’ve thought about since I told her secret. I know, I know. I feel awful. I’m not proud of myself.
I told Everleigh’s secret, then I tried to end it all. Stupid I know. But it was a bad week. Will had been hurt and the King was dead, and it was all my fault.
So Everleigh has been destined to die since she was born. I’ve known her since I was seven and she was nine. I’m her handmaiden. I have spent most of my life looking after her.
Then everything changed. She was told she would live.
And now it has changed again. Her brother is King.
The old King is dead, killed by his own son. Then he – Macsen – was killed by his brother, Millard. And he, well, he’ll kill you as soon as look at you, I reckon.
It’s all I ever wanted; Millard to be King. When I thought Everleigh would die and her blood would crown one of the princes, I wanted it to be Millard. Everyone thought it would be. He’s so handsome, so clever, so nice. We know that’s not true now, of course. He sat by and watched his brother kill their father and he thought Everleigh was killed too. Didn’t lift a finger to stop it. Then he killed Macsen. And Halfreda.
Halfreda was the wise woman. Old as even the oldest thing and scary and creepy, but I suppose I must admit, nice. She saved me when I tried to...you know, and she made sure I was better. I feel sad that she’s dead. It was an awful thing to see. He just stabbed her right in the heart, in front of everyone.
Then he killed Archer. Oh, Everleigh had fallen hard for him, let me tell you. She never thought she would find love, what with dying so young and being a princess, all protected and that. She wasn’t a good catch really, as beautiful as she is.
Then Archer turned up. He was related to Halfreda and he was a knight, only young but a right good fighter. Well, he wasn’t good enough in the end. Millard killed him.
Millard’s a mad man. I don’t want to even look at him, in case I’m next.
Poor Everleigh, she put her cloak over Archer, and then as we walked away, her knees just went. She was sobbing that hard. Will and me kept her up, but she started screaming about Archer’s body. She didn’t want Millard to send him to the Ashes – where the dead bodies are burnt. She wanted him to be sent out to sea, like her father was.
I took her to Halfreda’s rooms, it was the only place we could think that she might be safe. If Millard sees her he will probably kill her. What she’s going to do next I don’t know. I’m glad it’s not up to me to decide.
So, Will went back to fetch Archer. They need to wrap his body up and then we can take it to the little island to send him off.
Oh, it’s been a scary and horrible day. Every time I shut my eyes I see Macsen’s head flying clean off his body. There was so much blood and upset today. How any of us will sleep I don’t know?
Poor Ginata had to crown him after all that – what else could she do? I don’t know her well but I feel awful sorry for her. I don’t go to the village much and when she came to the castle it was to visit Halfreda and I certainly wasn’t going to join the pair of them.
She looked so petrified as she crowned him. And I knew she was hoping he wouldn’t finish her off too. I was the same. I didn’t want to catch his eye in case I gave him an idea. No one is safe here.
Cook just knocked, guessing where I was – she’s wilier than she looks I reckon. She said that Wolf’s taken Addyson off to the tower. Wolf is Millard’s henchman, though everyone thought he worked for Macsen. Shows you what a sly one he is, changing his tune like that. I’m to take food up to Addyson. What is this place coming to? I know she’s the cursed princess but she shouldn’t be locked away. And what about Everleigh? She told him she’d kill him, he’s not going to want to see her at breakfast. Next time he sees her, one of them’s not long for this world I tell you. Who will live and who will die I wouldn’t want to guess.
And Cook was full of it. Never seen anything like it in her lifetime. And now we all know he’s crazy, none of us wants to go near him. There’s to be a feast tonight, and Cook reckons he’s already talking about a proper coronation next week, one without a headless corpse watching him – his words apparently!
Everleigh’s just sitting in front of the fire, watching the flames and crying. I don’t know what’s going to snap her out of this or who’s going to look after her. Poor dab.
1
Everleigh’s dress is wet through from crying; tears flowing continuously down her face, with no move made from her to stop them. Her nose is running and she’s dribbling. The wailing has stopped; her heartbreak is silent now. She doesn’t care what a mess she must look or that Millard has probably put a price on her head. Everything has gone wrong.
Lanorie and Will stand together watching her, in Halfreda’s rooms, the only safe place they could think of to steer her to, away from Millard. “I’m going to have to go.” Lanorie’s voice is a whisper. “Cook wants me to take food to Addyson in the tower.”
“He has locked her up then?” Will asks the question, but it is more of a statement. They both know how bad things are. Lanorie reaches for his hand.
“Where’s Archer’s body and the others?”
“I asked the pages to wrap them up. They know Halfreda and Macsen but I explained that Archer was the one covered with Everleigh’s cloak. There are some other dead bodies – some fighting went on after the coronation – but they’ll be taken to the Ashes. They’ll put the three of them on the island and leave them there till we decide what to do with them. I can’t imagine Millard giving them any thought.”
“He may want their heads on spikes.”
“Then I am glad I moved them. Bad enough that so many are dead today. He can’t play with their corpses as well.”
Lanorie shakes her head, upset, and Will pulls her close, hugging her, giving and taking some level of comfort on this awful day.
Everleigh is rocking, as she watches the flames. Everything is lost to her; least importantly her crown.
Her father is dead, murdered by her oldest brother, Macsen. And Macsen. Her sweetest brother. Dead before she got to confront him. He tried to kill her too and if her good friend Will hadn’t put his own life before hers, she would have been dead at his hand as well.
Halfreda – the wise woman – managed to save Will.
Her happy, close knit family of only a week ago, is now altered irrevocably.
Her emotions and lifelong loyalties need time to catch up with the facts of what has just happened.
Her whole life long, from when she was old enough to understand her role, she has known she would die at seventeen. All Kingmakers did. Learning from Halfreda, that she would live and rule as Queen has changed her life for the good but ended up being the downfall of all that she loves and cherishes.
Macsen, desperate for power had been plotting to kill their brother Millard at the sacrificial ceremony – when the Kingmaker’s throat is slit and her blood decides which prince will be King – instead of drinking Everleigh’s blood he had planned to give Millard a death draught. He tested that draught out on their father, King of the Realm.
Letting her mind go there was painful. Wondering about her father’s last moments. Had he known it was his own son who killed him? She hoped not. She hoped that he had been oblivious. Can there be a greater crime than a child killing their own parent? Maybe a parent killing their own child?
Macsen had then learned that Everleigh would live, or had it been the other way around? Had he learned that she would live and killed their father to get the throne, no one would ever know the order, or how his murderous mind had made something so awful seem like a logical next step for him.
Whatever happened, he decided to get her out of the way too. She would never be able to repay that debt to Will. Always her good friend, he had done something she would never have dared ask of anyone; taken her place in her bed and almost died for his trouble. Thank goodness Macsen was a clueless soldier and thank goodness that Halfreda had been able to save Will.
And then Millard. Her tears flow afresh when she thinks about him. Her other wonderful brother; acerbic but funny, blunt but loving, always there for her, if not always on her side. He had turned out to be worse than Macsen. She can hardly believe that’s possible.
Millard had known of his brother’s plan to kill him during the sacrifice. He knew that he had bought the death draught. He knew Macsen had killed their father and he knew – or thought he knew – that Macsen had killed Everleigh, and he had just sat back and done nothing.
With archaic law decreeing that the eldest son – Macsen – be King if the Kingmaker wasn’t there to make the choice the traditional way, Millard had stepped in during the coronation and killed Macsen, his own brother. Sliced his head clean off, so he could be King instead.
She was glad she missed it. She had been hiding in these very rooms, such a short time ago, so happy and ready to be Queen, to take on her birth right. That was when Lanorie, hysterical, had come to take her out of hiding.
She had tried to claim her crown and that was when Millard killed Halfreda, who she had known and loved her whole life long – as had he – and then he had killed... her mind almost refuses to go there, but she forces herself to. He deserves her to remember him. He had died for her. The ultimate sacrifice and what every knight promises to do for their King or Queen. She just never thought it would happen. Even after Ginata’s vision where she saw him get hurt, Everleigh had thought he would win. She had let him die and she hadn’t been able to help him or save him.
Archer.
Her tears are sobs now. Her body pained by the wracking.
Lanorie whispers to Will, “I need to go now. I need to check on Addyson. Maybe it will help Everleigh to know she’s safe?”
“Good idea. I’ll try to talk to her.”
They both look doubtful and Lanorie gives his hand a squeeze before she goes, shutting the door quietly behind her, even though Everleigh has shown no sign of being aware that either of them are in the room with her.
Will steps softly towards her. He is sure Millard is busy doing other dastardly things, but he can’t help but worry that he will come looking for his sister. He will not want her alive, not while she threatens his reign.
He sits down beside her, his princess and friend. He rests a hand on her arm, wanting to touch her, to help her. “Everleigh,” he says. “Everleigh are you alright?”
He knows she is not, even as he asks it, but he needs to say something.
She turns to face him and looks surprised to see him. “Will.” Her voice sounds scratchy from all the crying she’s doing.
“Everleigh. I don’t think you’re safe here.”
Her gaze is blank.
Will tries again. “I think Millard will try to kill you.”
Gaze still blank, tears spilling over, she looks back at the fire.
Will wishes Halfreda was here, she would give Everleigh some potion or other, something to help her. She’s obviously suffering from shock. And heartache. And stress. And no wonder.
He is silent but still touching her arm. She feels stone cold, and he rubs her skin trying to warm her up. She is unaware of him once more, lost in her memories, lost in the trauma of the last few hours, the last few days.
He locks the front door and moves through to Halfreda’s work room. If Millard’s soldiers come, the lock won’t stop them, but he will hear them. He cannot bear the thought of her being slaughtered like a defenceless lamb, unaware that anyone has even come for her head.
Halfreda had many rooms within the castle, and several rooms here too, just outside of it. She had accumulated a lot of stuff in her long life; she was the oldest person Will had ever seen or known and he has no clue of her actual age. She was older than ancient when he was young and older still when she died. He can hardly believe she is gone. It seemed like she would never die, just become older and older and older, but he knows everyone dies eventually.
Her work room is full of herbs and potions, bottles and books. He would never know what to give Everleigh but is hoping that Halfreda will have something bottled and labelled, something that might help.
He cannot bear seeing his princess in so much pain. He is relieved she is alive but needs her to snap out of her maudlin thoughts, this inertia, before Millard sends an axe for her.
Eyes roving along the bottles and jars, he sees something labelled as ‘Lift.’ Another as ‘Sleep.’ Another as ‘Boost.’ While she could do with all three, he just needs her to have enough energy to get away from the castle. He doesn’t know where he’ll take her but it won’t be long before Millard looks for her. Maybe he will enjoy the night, revel in being King of the Realm, but come morning, sober and concerned about his crown, surely, he will hunt her down like a dog and kill her. Or lock her up. Alive would be the best outcome for her, but she would still be a prisoner. Will wants her safe, with or without a crown on her head. Millard may want her dead, regardless.
He picks up the bottle labelled ‘Boost’, opens the top and puts a drop on his tongue. He doesn’t want to inadvertently kill her with a mislabelled bottle of poison. He doesn’t drop dead, and so goes back to Everleigh’s side.
Ginata
What a day. And it has not ended yet. It is the worst day I have ever had the misfortune to live through and yet I cannot thank the gods enough that I have lived through it. Several times today the gaze of a madman has come to rest on me and I have feared my time was over.
But here I am.
I knew something was wrong this morning, but I had no idea how wrong. Maybe Halfreda could have seen it if she hadn’t been so close to the end of her life, and yet her love for both of those boys had obviously coloured her vision of them and what they might be capable of.
I have no such alliances, I had seen them a handful of times on visits to the castle and had only met Macsen when he was disguised in a cloak, buying a death draught off me. If only I had been down at the river the day he came calling, or next door enjoying an ale with Della, or anywhere else where he wouldn’t have found me.
And yet he is not the problem anymore.
With one prince dead, one princess in a tower, one Kingmaker on the loose, we have a new King. A mad and murderous one. And he has called me to his room.
Standing with him now, while he tells me, the new wise woman of the castle, what he expects from me, I dare not let my attention wander for a second, but my heart is still beating too wildly.
First Macsen and then Millard; two insane brothers had me in their sights and twice I have been saved. When I crowned Millard, I was sure he would run me through straight after, having fulfilled his need of me.
And yet here I am. I cannot quite believe it. Am I a lucky witch? Maybe.
Halfreda was not. I dig my nails into my palm to stop any tears from sprouting and giving my emotions away to this monster before me. And a monster he is. A beautiful monster, so handsome and affable. Now he is King he laughs and jokes and waves and smiles. But earlier on he pierced Halfreda’s heart with a sure sword. He pierced Archer’s beautiful heart without a pause.
I feel Halfreda’s loss like a physical thing, a discontentment in my heart. I am sad about Archer but I knew him not. I know Everleigh will be beyond distraught and I wish I was with her now instead of here with Millard. I want to serve her not him.
I will serve her. I will be as false to him as he was to his family, his sisters, his brother, his father. I will pretend to help him and obey him, but I will be an agent for the other side. I will assist and aide Everleigh in any way I can until the crown is on her head.
Halfreda was a good friend to me, especially after my parents both died. She always looked out for me and imparted all her knowledge to me. I will use her knowledge now, her wisdom, for a cause of my own.
Millard’s wish has come true; I crowned him King of the Realm. Now, he sees me as an ally and I will gain his trust and abuse it. Willingly.
I take the drink and smile at him. It’s not hard to smile at his handsome face. It’s not hard to pretend to like him. He pleases my eye certainly, even though his touch repulses me. As his fingers brush mine when he gives me the goblet I contain a shiver through pure mental control.
He cannot know what I think when I see him or how much he upsets me. This monster must believe that I am only here for him.
“So,” he says, his eyes soft and seemingly tender. “Quite a day...”
He lets his words hang in the air and I am unsure how to respond to him. “Indeed,” I say, noncommittal, but hoping he doesn’t mind. If he minds, I am all too aware, I may die.
“Do you think ill of me?”
Again, what would he have me say?
I take a deep breath. If I am to work with him, convince him of my worth and loyalty, I need to speak to him, engage with him, push away my fears and commit to this path I’ve chosen.
“Your Grace. I am a witch, but a simple one. I have lived my whole life long in a small square house, just two rooms, with my parents. After they died, I lived alone. I wash in the river; I sweep my own floors. I eat what I can, when I can, but some nights I go to bed with a pain in my stomach from hunger. I cannot imagine the life of a prince, the call to power and leadership. I aimed to serve and help in the village and it’s all I can try to do now. I am not clever or learned or wise like Halfreda, I am a simple witch but if you let me stay I will put my mind to helping you, serving you.”
Is it enough? I worried about mentioning Halfreda’s name, but I wanted to speak plainly. I have let him think I am more naïve than I probably am. But I don’t think there’s any harm in it. I look him in the eye, no fear, well plenty of it, but hopefully well hidden.
A beautiful smile breaks out over his face, and he looks genuinely relieved. “Power and leadership,” he says, nodding at me. Happy with my answer. “Exactly. Only those raised to be Kings could understand. Thank you Ginata. I feel better. You make me feel better.”
I smile at him. I am relieved and pleased. I do not want to die any time soon.
“And now for your rooms. Halfreda had rooms in here but also outside. They weren’t the best, or the fanciest but I think you should live inside. I will have the old King’s rooms made up for you, fit for my closest advisor.”
I do not want to sleep in a dead man’s bed, but I cannot show my repulsion or fear. If this man wants me close and that’s what it takes to stay alive and win the crown for Everleigh, then it’s what I will do.
“I would be delighted,” I lie.
“One other matter, before I let you rest. I am sure you are tired out. It’s been a busy day. And still the feast later.”
I nod my agreement but stay quiet.
“I want another coronation. A proper one. Today was a farce, really. It should have been Everleigh’s death day, then Macsen’s coronation and then finally mine. I want a day that’s just about me.”
I am literally speechless. This King murdered his brother without flinching, killed his life-long mother figure without hesitation and then stabbed the man his sister was in love with, all without missing a beat and now he worries about having a day to himself without the attention on anyone else.
It hits me then; this King is still a child. A spoiled little boy. He wants to be the star, the main attraction, all eyes on him.
I am nodding so he will not know what I’m thinking. “I think that’s a sensible idea. A coronation should be a grand affair, something people will remember for the right reasons.”
He grins at me, so pleased with what I’ve said. The key to winning over this man is to always be on his side, or at least let him believe you are. And, actually, this self-involved madness might help us, might give us a chance to get Everleigh her crown back. Halfreda’s words echo in my mind: you can only have a coronation with witnesses of more than a hundred, or any mad man could have himself crowned. Well a madman has had himself crowned, and we will help Everleigh take his crown away.
“I will get it arranged and you can crown me properly.”
I nod along. I have a feeling I will be doing a lot of that.
2
Ginata walks quickly through the castle corridors, heading outside to Halfreda’s rooms. She is only guessing but it’s the only logical place she can think of for Everleigh to be hiding. But she won’t be safe there for long.
The door is locked when she pushes it, so she knocks. “Everleigh, Will? Lanorie?”
Will rushes from Everleigh’s side and opens the door, and Ginata slips inside. Being inside Halfreda’s room, away from Millard’s side, she finally breaks down. Will leads her to a chair, and she sobs with her head in her hands.
Will is quiet next to her, Everleigh doesn’t even look up. She hasn’t drunk any of the potion yet; he cannot get her to snap out of the fog she’s in. Maybe once Ginata is all cried out, they can help her together. He is sure Lanorie will come back once she’s fed Addyson and together they can come up with a plan.
He pats Ginata’s shoulder as she cries, managing to keep himself calm by wondering what they will do next. He may only be a fool in the making but it doesn’t take a genius to work out that life has changed for all of them. Irrevocably.
Ginata takes a deep breath and wipes her face. She smiles up at Will. “I needed that. I’ve been with Millard. The King.”
It was treasonous the way she was thinking; that she would help someone steal the King’s crown and take his place. If her mind could be read, she’d be hung for what she was planning to do. She was safe enough in Halfreda’s old rooms, but everywhere else she would have to watch what she said, how she said things, her reaction to what others said, even. This man did not need good and proper reasons to end people’s lives. He was quick to the temper and slow to regret.
“Are you alright?”
“Yes. Well...he expects me to take over from Halfreda, which I knew. He’s moving me in to the King’s old rooms – that I didn’t expect. Or like.” She shrugs. What choice do any of them have. “How is she?” Ginata nods her head towards Everleigh who hasn’t moved for more than an hour.
“Not good and I don’t think she’s safe. Did Millard say anything about her.”
“No, but he wants another coronation next week. He wants one without all the other stuff detracting from him.”
Will laughs, although it is not funny. Not really. But he can’t help it. “Really?”
Ginata nods. “Really.”
“What did you say?”
“I agreed with everything he said. I am not willing to die, no matter how much I want to help Everleigh. Halfreda believed she should be Queen; that’s enough for me. But I won’t die for her. I think another coronation is perfect, it will let us crown her this time, plan it all properly, do it right. And I will help but I don’t want to die for my trouble.”
Will couldn’t argue with her. He would die for Everleigh; he almost had. But they had been friends their whole life long. She was more than a friend to him; she was family.
“She hasn’t moved for ages. I tried to give her one of Halfreda’s drinks, but she won’t take it. What can we do?”
Will is glad Ginata has come back. She’ll know how to help Everleigh. They must get her to wake up, focus, move. They need to get her to safety.
“I can help her,” Ginata says, moving over to Everleigh’s side.
“Where will we put her? Where can she go? She’s not safe if Millard wants another coronation. He won’t want her turning up again and spoiling things.”
“I was thinking about my cottage.” Ginata takes hold of Everleigh’s hand. “I don’t think Millard would ever think of going there. I’m not sure if he even knows where it is.”
“Brilliant.” For the first time since they walked away from the massacre, Will feels himself relax. He’s not solely responsible anymore. They will work it out together. He sits on one of Halfreda’s comfy chairs and lets Ginata take over.
“Everleigh.” Ginata’s voice is loud, but Everleigh doesn’t move. “Everleigh!” Louder again, accompanied by a shake of her shoulders. Everleigh looks at her, smiles faintly, turns her gaze back to the fire. Ginata shakes her again. “No, Everleigh. Stay with me.” She takes hold of Everleigh’s chin and turns her head, holds her face in both hands. Everleigh tries to turn away but Ginata won’t let her. Her grip is too firm.
“Everleigh.”
“Yes?”
Will moves to the edge of his chair. That’s only the second time she’s spoken, but she sounds more like herself.
“Everleigh. We need to get you out of here. You’re not safe. You need to snap out of it.”
Everleigh nods, but her gaze is vacant again.
“Everleigh.” Ginata’s voice is harsh this time, sharp and loud. “Everleigh. Your brother is dead. Halfreda is dead. Archer is dead.” Everleigh lets out a cry. “Archer. Is. Dead. Sorry Everleigh, but he is. But Addyson is safe. She’s locked up. She needs you. The Realm needs you. You need to snap out of this fog. We need to move you.”
Everleigh’s eyes focus on Ginata. “He killed them all.”
“Not Addyson. Not me. Not Will. Not Lanorie. And not you. You are alive Everleigh. We need you.”
“Why didn’t I save him?”
Ginata shakes her head. Everleigh discovered that she was the Kingmaker who would live, written in a prophecy, the day she made the river rise. It was the test to prove if she would die or rule. A ruler, a true King or Queen could command mother nature. Everleigh was even more special. She could move things. Inanimate objects. She had moved an arrow to stop it hitting a deer and she had moved Millard’s sword when he was fighting Archer.
But she hadn’t moved it on the final fateful blow.
“I’ll never forgive myself.”
“Everleigh. Your magic, your power is new to you. You don’t have control of it yet. You cannot blame yourself. You can’t.”
Everleigh shakes her head but shifts her position, stretches out her arms and then her legs, then stands. Will jumps up, hugs her. Ginata passes her the drink Will found earlier. “Drink.” She holds it up to Everleigh’s lips, not allowing her to refuse.
Everleigh drinks, wipes her tears away. “What do I do? One of you tell me. Please.”
“First thing’s first. You’re not safe. We must move you. To my cottage.”
“Then we need to rescue Addyson. Millard might turn on her any minute,” Will says.
“Then we need to get the crown on your head,” Ginata finishes.
Everleigh shakes her head. “I don’t even care about being Queen anymore. I just want to be safe. Just me and Addyson.”
Will and Ginata exchange a quick glance. Will takes her hand; he knows her the best. “Everleigh. If you don’t take your crown, why did your father die? Or your brother? Or Halfreda? Or Archer?”
At his name Everleigh’s eyes flood over with tears again.
“You can’t let their deaths be for nothing. Be pointless.”
“Where are they?”
“On the island, by now. Waiting for us to send them out.”
“We need to do that today. We can’t leave them there in the cold. Can you do the ceremony Ginata? Do you have time?”
Ginata nods, she’s not sure what Millard is planning to do for the rest of the day with his newfound Kingship, but she expects she can sneak off for an hour or so.
“Let’s go.”
“Shall we wait for Lanorie?” Lanorie is never far from Will’s thoughts. He has been half in love with her for years and the only good thing he can think of that has come from today is their sudden affinity. As the two people left who are closest to Everleigh they have a bond; they both look after her in their own way and they both want the best for her, and they have taken some comfort from each other these past few hours.
“Where is she? Addyson?” Everleigh is coming fully around, becoming more aware of her surroundings and what’s going on. The look of panic on her face is growing as she thinks about her sister. “You said we have to rescue her. Where is she?” Completely lucid suddenly, Everleigh is full of agitation, upset marring her face.
“She’s in the tower.”
“The tower. She’s not dead?”
“Not yet.”
Will glares at Ginata. “Not at all. He never wanted to hurt her, he said so.”
“He hurt everyone else,” Everleigh says, her voice tinged with anger.
“Not you or Addyson.”
“I wonder why...”
“We can’t hope to understand him.” Ginata takes her hand. “We just need to get you to safety, rescue Addyson and get you crowned as our Queen. You can choose to question him or kill him then, as you prefer.”
“Kill him.” Everleigh’s voice is hard with anger.
Ceryn
I drop a dead rabbit on the chair and then I pull off my mask – a swatch of leather with ties, that I never leave home without – and throw it on the table. The fire is low, so I pile more logs on, satisfied when the flames lick higher.
Something is wrong. I don’t go for all that magic claptrap they love to bang on about in this Realm, but I know my friend and I know something is wrong.
I am waiting for Weaver and I reckon he’ll agree with me, or else I’ll make him. There’s ale in the jug so I slosh some in a mug and down it in one go. I’ve had a busy morning and I’m thirsty.
I prepare the rabbit while I wait for him, skinning it and then gutting it. I throw the head out for the dogs. I don’t have any dogs myself but there’s plenty of them around here and I’m happy to chuck out my scraps for them.
I stab the body onto a fork and start roasting it over the fire. Weaver will be hungry too and he’ll be glad not to wait. He might have some spoils from his morning too. We’ll have a feast and decide what to do about Archer.
Ah, Archer. We are a band of brothers, us three, despite my unfortunate gender, and we roam the Realm together, hunting our feed and helping the common man. We give our extra meat and fish to the poorest families, we make sure the King’s men are being just, by keeping our eye on them and what they’re up to. Only last week they had three young boys in the square, all lined up to some end, waiting to punish them in some cruel way, when Weaver shot his arrow straight through one of their bags of gold, collected from some poor farmer or other. The coins streamed out, and in the pandemonium of half the square fighting over the money, the boys ran off. They’ll not catch them again; one urchin in this Realm looks pretty much the same as another.
The King’s men. All utter hooligans, they are. They reckon they serve the greater good, the ruler of the Realm; mostly they serve themselves. Well, we three wage war on them, best we’re able.
Well, we did until last week.
Archer’s kin Halfreda came to visit; she’s the King’s wise woman, lives at the castle, doling out her mumbo jumbo. He reckons he’d had some dream of a Queen. Poor Archer, he’s the softest of us three. Likes to dream, and imagine a different world to the one we live in. Just because he can fight and beds down in a fancier place than mine or Weaver’s, he can’t see the bad in the world. But he wins his jousts and he dishes out most of what he wins; it’s a good contribution to our cause. We keep a little pot that we all chip in to – I’m a good hunter and once we’ve given away what we can, we sell some of the best cuts to the people who can pay for it. Weaver can sew like an old woman, so he mends things for free for the people who can’t pay and charges those who can.
We try our best to make our little corner of the Realm better. But Archer’s been gone a week. And I don’t know why.
He was all a bit hush-hush when he left, reckoned he was just visiting his kin. But in the week leading up to the Kingmaker’s death, I don’t reckon it’s a coincidence.
I taste some rabbit. Tender and rare, just how I like it. I tear strips off, burning my fingers, and cram them straight in my mouth, pour more ale and eat and drink my fill. I leave plenty for Weaver and close my eyes while I wait for him.
I must have drifted off, a nice snooze after dinner, as Weaver slamming the door wakes me. The rabbit is cold, but I pull off a bone and suck on it.
“You’ve been ages.” Most of what I say to Weaver comes out as a complaint. I’m not known for my cheery disposition, but I’m a happy grouch. I won’t whinge about the hand I was dealt by fate or any of that crap. I had a rubbish start to life but I’m doing alright.
“A bit of fighting in the square, couple of men drunk in the morning, taking swings at anyone who came too close. They’re snoring in a ditch now. Nice rabbit?”
“Lovely. I think there’s something wrong with Archer.”
He places two rabbits on the table: show off. His eyes narrow. I don’t think he’ll dismiss me; I’m not one to worry or become hysterical.
“He didn’t say when he’d be back...”
“True. But it won’t hurt to take a ride up to the castle.”
Weaver chews on some rabbit, grease dribbling down his chin. “It’ll take a few days.”
“True.” Stating facts isn’t meant to dissuade me. He likes to mull things over, Weaver, make sure he knows what’s going on, reach the right decision.
A knock at the door makes us both jump. Weaver waits for me to pull on my mask before opening the door. One of my neighbours: “Thought I smelled rabbit. Brought you some ale.”
We happily swap our wares and he heads away, eating as he goes. I start skinning another rabbit. If we eat our fill before we go, we won’t have to waste too much time on the road hunting down our dinner.
I put the rabbit on the fire and take off my mask; it’s too hot to keep on inside, and Weaver has seen my mark a million times.
He won’t stare or point, or throw me out.
He won’t mutter spiteful things about the devil’s mark or shrink away from my touch.
I don’t think he even notices anymore.
We share the rabbit and make a plan.
3
Millard takes a long swig of his wine, raises the goblet to Wolf, who grins at him, and then drinks the rest.
“My man,” he greets his closest friend and ally.
“Your Grace.”
“So, it is done. I am King.”
Wolf bows low. “You are. We knew it.”
Millard nods. “Only because you betrayed my brother...”
Wolf nods. “I would do anything you asked me to.”
“You serve no other?”
Wolf shakes his head; the truth.
Millard pours more wine into his jewelled goblet. He doesn’t offer anything to Wolf. Wolf stands, hands clasped behind him, waiting.
“I’m in a good mood, Wolf, but I have to say I was worried about you.”
“Your Grace?”
“You betrayed my brother so easily, you spilled his secrets as easily as I pour this wine. How do I know you won’t do the same to me?”
“Your Grace, I served Macsen only because you told me to, I spilled his secrets because you asked me to. I serve no other.”
Millard nods, watching Wolf over the top of his goblet. “I think I believe you. But I need to be wise, Wolf. I need to know that my trust isn’t in vain. That you are indeed, my man. I’ll be watching you. Fetch me the fool’s boy.”
Wolf nods and turns to leave.
“Bring me Everleigh’s handmaiden too. I may trust your loyalty for now, but can I trust theirs?”
Wolf nods and leaves.
Millard smiles as he surveys his room; he won’t move into his father’s old rooms. The witch can have them. He likes it where he is; he won’t sleep in a dead man’s bed or walk in his shoes. This reign is his own and he plans to enjoy it.
***
KILL HIM.
Everleigh’s words fall heavy in the quiet room and while Will and Ginata nod at her words, they are both scared. They all know that Millard must die. Not only because of what he’s done today but because of what he will do to Everleigh when she takes his crown. He won’t accept it or agree to her being Queen and so death or prison are the only two options and after what he did today, they can both see why Everleigh is suddenly steely in her decision to end his life.
“We need to go to the island first. I’ll do it when we come back.”
Will takes her hand, stopping her from pacing the room. “How? I know you’re furious with him. Understandably, but he’ll be heavily guarded. How will you kill him?”
“Quickly.”
Will and Ginata laugh, some of the tension in the room dissipating.
“Good idea. But practically, how?”
Everleigh shrugs. She doesn’t really know how, only that she wants to do it, needs to do it. Too many people have died and Millard is too unstable to rule the Realm. She needs the crown that is rightfully hers on her head, before too long, before he causes any more damage and before she sinks into another gloom at the mention of Archer’s name, or the thought of his eyes, his smile, his mouth on hers...
“I’ll think of something. I must. I have to do this, don’t I?”
Will and Ginata nod, none of them feeling old enough or wise enough, or in any way equipped to make the decisions here, or to properly guide Everleigh.
“For Halfreda and Archer. For my father. I have to avenge their deaths, and someone has to rule the Realm, look after all the people, my people. I can’t trust Millard to do anything. He’s not all there in the head.”
They both know she is right.
“Ginata, you said you can perform the ceremony on the island?”
Ginata nods, she has all Halfreda’s knowledge and the authority to do so as the new wise woman of the castle. “I would rather do it quickly, so that Millard doesn’t find out.”
Everleigh nods. “Let’s go.”
“Without Lanorie?”
“Yes. Millard can’t know that Ginata is assisting me in any way. So, we need to be quick.”
The knock at the door makes them all jump.
“Open up.”
Everleigh ducks out of sight, in the other room. Will stays by Ginata’s side.
Ginata opens the door, an easy smile on her face. She almost balks at the sight of Wolf, flanked by two heavy-set guards, swords aloft, but she keeps her smile pasted on.
“You.” Wolf points at Will, who turns white. “With me.”
Will’s feet won’t move, but Ginata squeezes his arm and her touch seems to wake him up. Reluctantly he leaves the warmth of Halfreda’s rooms and follows Wolf.
Wolf pats him on the back, almost knocking him over. “One of the pages said you was with the witch. Come on, the King wants you.”
***
AS SOON AS THE DOOR shuts, Everleigh rushes to Ginata’s side. “What will he do with him?”
Ginata can only shrug. Any sort of sixth sense or instinct has run away from her. She needs calm and quiet to see things, and this day has given none.
“What can we do?”
Ginata takes Everleigh’s hands in her own, wishing she was as wise as Halfreda.
“Nothing. We can only wait and hope. Why don’t we go to the island? Rather than stay here worrying.”
Everleigh nods, and Ginata finds her one of Halfreda’s old cloaks. Everleigh tucks all her hair away and then sits the hood down low over her face.
Ginata checks the way is clear and takes Everleigh’s arm. She is risking her own life and future by having anything to do with her, but she cannot turn away.
They walk in step to the island, and Ginata pulls out the boat, helping Everleigh to climb in.
The three bodies are laid out, Everleigh’s murderous brother Macsen, Halfreda and Archer. Only one of them can be Archer – the tallest of the three – and Everleigh almost drops to the floor at his side. Ginata senses it and holds on to her arm.
“It’s alright,” she lies and Everleigh nods, wishing she could believe her. Wishing it was true.
Ginata gives her no time to fall apart and starts sprinkling white powder over them; a cleansing herb to help them on their way. Then while Everleigh silently weeps, she starts chanting. Everleigh walks to her brother, drops to her knees, touches him. She cannot see him, nor would she want to now, his head cruelly separated from his body, dusty from rolling on the floor, and she cannot quite believe all that’s happened. That this funny, loving boy, her brother, her favourite brother, did this. He killed their father and would have killed her. All for a crown. All for her crown.
She pushes him into the water and turns to Halfreda. Grief is a new emotion; she was young when her mother died and so she missed her but never really grieved properly.
Seeing Halfreda’s body bundled up hurts her, physically, it takes her breath and punishes her. She wants her back, she wants to hear her voice, and see her smile, touch her soft cheek, conspire with her. She smiles at a fond memory and cries harder as the pain turns sharp in her belly; she knows who is next.
Archer.
She pushes Halfreda in to the water and walks to Archer’s side.
A perfect young man, one she barely knew and yet felt so deeply for. The first man to turn her head, the first man to kiss her. The first man to wake emotions in her she thought she would never get to enjoy.
Archer.
So handsome, so brave, so willing to fight and die for her.
She drops her head on to his chest, bundled as it is, and sobs.
When she learned that she would live and rule she had been so happy. And so naïve. She thought her father would be happy, her brothers would be pleased for her, the Realm would celebrate and that this man, this beautiful man, would rule beside her. Her King and knight, her lover and protector.
And now he’s gone.
She is all but alone in the world.
The new feelings Archer had awoken, now stripped and trampled and ruined. All that was left now: death.
Loneliness and death.
She reaches for the little silver brooch he gave her, a tiny replica crown, and is about to unpin it, to send something of her away with him, when she hesitates. This is all she has of him now, the one gift he had given her, apart from a feeling that she could have a future, a love, a happiness of her own. She leaves the brooch pinned on her dress and puts her hands on him but cannot bear to push him away. She cannot bear that he is gone and that he will never be back. His shock of red hair gone. Her cries become louder, until they are a wail. Ginata sits beside her, rocking her, letting her cry, letting her get it all out. She needs to cry, needs to rail against the cruelty of the events of the week. Ginata takes her hand. “It’s time.”
Everleigh shakes her head, but Ginata takes her hand and helps her to push, to push Archer away, to let him rest in peace.
Everleigh collapses onto the dirty floor, and Ginata quietly watches her.
***
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