The Kingmaker Complete Trilogy (The Kingmaker Trilogy #1-3)

by Gemma Perfect

  Archer is dead.

  Weaver drops to his knees and gathers me up. Back on my feet, but unsteady like a baby animal, not a fighter, I stare at this woman like it’s her fault. Maybe it is.

  “Archer is dead?”

  She nods. And I am crying again. I knew something was wrong. It seems to take a year to find my voice. It’s choked and dying from the pain. The grief. “What happened?”

  This can’t be right. It’s not fair. He can’t just be gone.

  “It’s a long story.” She says it like that’s that. As if I’d just say, ah, thanks for your time, and stroll away. It might be late but I don’t care. I have to know what’s happened in the week Archer has been gone.

  I have to know everything about him, fill my head and my heart and my ears with him.

  For the last time.

  Just a week. He’s only been away from us for a week. If I had known when he left that we would never see him again, would I have let him go? Could I have changed his mind? Would I have told him what’s in my heart? I would have taken hold of him and never let him go.

  “I’ve got all night,” I say to her and she turns her head to the side, green eyes boring into mine. I feel uncomfortable, but stare back at her.

  “Interesting.” She appraises me like I’m a thing, something for her to assess and I realise that I don’t like her. Whoever this woman is.

  “Who are you?”

  “My name is Ginata and I’m the new wise woman of the castle, since the old one died.”

  “Well Ginata, let’s you and me find a place to park our backsides and you can tell me everything you know.”

  Weaver places a hand on my arm; he knows I’m narked off with this woman and he knows that sometimes I need him to temper me. Sometimes he needs my charmless personality and he’s happy to let me loose. But I know he’s right tonight. Our friend is dead and we both want to know why.

  She leads the way and we follow, Weaver still holding on to me, to my hand now. I feel hot and sweaty under my mask, where my tears have puddled.

  We go into the castle and it is so ridiculously beautiful and swanky that I feel dead out of place. I keep pulling at my mask, and yanking at my clothes. I look like a smelly old farmer next to this wise woman and I couldn’t look more out of place if I tried.

  If Archer wasn’t dead and I didn’t need something off this woman, I would probably punch her in the eye, just to make myself feel better. That’s just who I am.

  15

  GINATA LEADS THE WAY through the castle corridors to her rooms. Her heart aches for this abrasive woman and her quiet companion and if there was a way of saving them the hurt they are feeling she would.

  “Come on in.” She opens the door to her rooms and gestures for them to go through.

  They stand awkwardly, the pair of them, gawking at the splendour that she isn’t even used to yet. “Take a seat.”

  She sits on one of the chairs and smiles at them, using all her skills to try to convey to them several things: that she is a good person, that she means them no harm, that she is so sorry for their loss, that Archer was a good person, that he died doing something he had chosen to do, that he had fallen in love with Everleigh and was happy to protect and serve her.

  “Archer was a wonderful man. I only knew him for the shortest of times, but I know you would be proud of him.”

  “Why was he here?” Ceryn is blunt to the point of rudeness and Ginata is taken aback. Her skills obviously didn’t convey much of anything to this woman.

  “Didn’t you know?”

  “He told us he was visiting his kin, but I never bought it.”

  “You were right.”

  Ceryn leans forward on her chair, ready to drink in everything she can hear about Archer, tears pouring unbidden from her eyes. Maybe they will never stop. “Halfreda asked Archer to come here. She knew what a good fighter he was. She needed his help.”

  “With what?” Weaver leans forward too, just as eager to hear the story of Archer’s final week, his own tears silent but plentiful.

  “Halfreda knew of a prophecy, it’s the reason she was at the castle, it’s the reason she oversaw the Kingmakers. One of the Kingmakers would live. She found out that it was Everleigh and she wanted Archer to help protect her.”

  “So, it’s her fault? The Kingmaker?” Ceryn’s voice is filled with bitterness and hatred.

  “I don’t even know your names,” Ginata says, changing the focus.

  Weaver answers for them both. “My name’s Weaver and this is Ceryn. We were Archer’s best friends.”

  “Weaver, Ceryn, I’m so sorry, I can see that you’re shocked by this.”

  Ceryn snorts. Weaver pats her arm again. “What happened?”

  “Well, Halfreda was worried that Everleigh would be in danger if people realised that she would live, and rule as Queen.”

  “Queen?” Ceryn interrupts, a look of disbelief on her face. “We have never had a Queen in the Realm. He died for this nonsense?”

  “He didn’t think it was nonsense. He wanted to help Halfreda and after he met Everleigh he was more than happy to call himself her knight. He wanted to protect her. They fell in love.”

  Ceryn snorts again and then sobs, a mixture of the two sounds. She leaps out of her chair and huffs over to the window, where she stands with her hands on her hips, sobs shaking her shoulders.

  Weaver ignores her for a minute. “He was in love?”

  “Very much so. Young love. Who knows now what it would have grown into, but they were both infatuated with each other.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes. He was a lovely man. Strong, fearless, sensible, fun, all good things. I know this must be hard for you.”

  “It’s really hard. I loved him like a brother. We both did.”

  “Just like a brother?” Ginata nods her head to the window where Ceryn has slumped onto the floor, her head on the window seat, small mewling sounds coming from her, sounding just like the injured animal that she is.

  “Maybe a little more. You could see why?”

  “Yes. He was very handsome and perfectly lovely. Everleigh fell hard for him. She’s pretty devastated too.”

  “So, is she Queen now? The stable boy said that the King had killed Halfreda?”

  “It’s all a bit complicated here. She should be Queen but her brothers were both as mad as each other. One of them killed their father, determined to get on the throne before being killed by the other one. He also killed Halfreda and Archer. Now he wears the crown that should be on Everleigh’s head.”

  “A Queen. Really?”

  “It’s written in a prophecy. I’ve seen it.”

  “Does that make it so?” Weaver sounds genuinely interested.

  Ginata shrugs. “If you had seen her brothers yesterday at the coronation you’d back anyone to rule instead of them. Millard is King but he is quite unstable, violent, dangerous. I think Everleigh will be Queen. Archer certainly believed so. He died for her. He chose to fight for her.”

  “He’d talked about serving a Queen. Some funny idea he’d got in his head. I wish I could see him.” Weaver drops his head to cry in silence.

  Ginata pats his arm and walks over to Ceryn, sits on the floor beside her. “Archer was brave to the end.”

  Ceryn doesn’t answer, just cries louder.

  “Did he know that you were in love with him?”

  Ceryn shakes her head, no.

  Ginata rubs her back, soothing her as best she can, this awkward, grouchy, masked stranger.

  After a while Ceryn sits up, wipes her hands over her wet face, straightens her mask and looks at Ginata, whose eyes focus on the mask but look away quickly; she knows it’s not the time to ask.

  “Did he really love her?”

  Ginata nods. “I think so. He was happy to fight for her, die for her.”

  “Is she that special?

  “She is special. I think so, Archer thought so...”

  “And she will be Queen?”


  “I hope so. We’re working on it.”

  “Working on it?”

  “Well her brother is King now, but we would like her to rule. There’s a prophecy. It’s what she was born to do. But her brother’s more than a bit mad. We’re worried that he’ll kill her. He won’t give up his crown easily, if at all.”

  “And that’s why Archer was here?”

  “Yes.”

  “I want to meet her.”

  Weaver looks over at them. “Not a good idea, Ceryn.”

  “She’s the reason he died. I want to see her.”

  Weaver comes to her side, takes her hand, looks at Ginata for some back up.

  But Ginata nods her head. “I think it’s a good idea. Sleep here tonight, there’s plenty of room. I will have the little maids bring in extra bedding and pallets. I’ll get a bath drawn up for you both. Some food.”

  “Are you sure, Cer?” Weaver’s voice is low and soft. “Shall we just go home, remember Archer together, grieve for him...”

  “Not yet,” she says, and her voice is as firm as the set of her mouth.

  Ginata leaves them talking at the window seat, crying and hugging, remembering their friend, and goes to fetch a little maid.

  She asks for food and drink, clean sleep clothes – boys ones – for them both; she can tell already that Ceryn will not be happy in a nightdress, and for a fragranced bath to be filled. She asks for the fire to be lit and extra beds to be made up.

  She is ready to sleep herself but at least the arrival of these two has taken her mind off the fear that Millard would go to the tower and find Lanorie instead of his sister. If he did that she would die for her part in it all, and she didn’t want that to happen.

  A little maid comes in with mugs and wine, followed by a steady stream of others sorting out all the little details that Ginata has asked to be done. She enjoys this part of living in the castle. One of the little maids brings a goblet to her, one she recognises from Millard’s rooms. “From the King. He says thank you for your good counsel.”

  Ginata takes it and sniffs at it, suspicious since Macsen killed the old King with a death draught. But then Millard has no reason to kill her and every reason to be happy with her. She is doing everything to make him happy.

  “Here.” She pours wine for the two grieving friends and sips at the drink Millard has sent her. It tastes fine and she doesn’t drop dead.

  Ceryn and Weaver are silent, in shock, in fury, in helpless misery and Ginata feels sorry for them and for Everleigh facing the wrath of this woman in the morning.

  Lanorie

  I HAVE SLEPT TWO NIGHTS in this tower of evil and I’m ready to die. If I heard Millard now I would call him in. Ask him to end it.

  Oh, it is a sorry state I’m in. I am smelly and cold and hungry, even though I am eating three meals a day and doing no work.

  My mind is running with thoughts and ideas and I have bitten my lips bloody trying to keep quiet.

  I hear the key in the lock and turn away from the door. I know these guards are thicker than me but still I won’t let them catch me here. I won’t make it easy for them. I lay with my head facing the wall and ignore the door swinging open, as I did all day yesterday too.

  There’s silence until the door shuts again, the key turned in the lock. I shift to look at the little maid, whichever one has brought me food and I cry out, before covering my mouth with my hand.

  Cook!

  I jump up and fling my arms around her neck.

  “Shh, you silly girl.” Her voice is low and I know she’s not really cross with me, just pretending, like she does.

  I don’t answer, just cry and cling to her.

  “You’ve got yourself in a right pickle, haven’t you?”

  I nod and draw back from her, looking at her kind old face. Cook is the person I’m closest to except Everleigh. She always looks after me, answers my questions, is kind to me. I love her.

  “Why are you here?”

  “To see you, you sausage. To make sure you’re alright. To tell you off for trying to be brave.”

  “I had to. You don’t understand...”

  “Oh, I understand it all.” She takes a seat on my bed. “Ooh, this isn’t very comfy, is it?”

  I shrug. I don’t suppose Millard wants his prisoners to be comfy when he throws them in here.

  “Lanny, love, I see and I know more than you think I do, stood in my kitchen. You think I don’t see you all rushing past, this way and that, making your little plans? You and the Kingmaker, and the fool who’s half in love with you.”

  “What?” I know she’s wrong now. Will’s never in love with me.

  “Ah, shh, poor fool. And that boy you were sweet on? I see it all and I know it all. I know you’re stuck in here now, because you switched places with poor little Addyson. Not so clever, Lanny, love.”

  I nod miserably. Oh, I thought I was clever at the time.

  “How will you get out, then?”

  I shrug. This visit is making me feel awful. I reckon Cook meant to cheer me up, not just tell me off, but I feel terrible.

  “Ginata came to see me, they are working on getting me out.”

  “He’ll kill you if he finds you here...Broke my heart yesterday seeing that darling boy turn like that, killing everyone, easy as anything. I fed him from a baby. How often he’d sneak in the kitchen looking for freshly cooked bread or hot cakes, icing dripping off the sides. He was so handsome. Not sure what went wrong...”

  We’ll never know. I lay on the bed, and snuggle up to her back. She feels warm and smells of food. I can smell the food she’s brought too. I shut my eyes, pretend that I’m back in the kitchen, late at night, chatting and laughing, putting the Realm to rights, she’d say.

  “Poor love...” Cook smooths my hair, whispering sweet words. I might die soon but I am happy right now. Ready to eat and then sleep another night in this awful tower, with spiders scuttling over my face and rats trying to nibble me.

  16

  WILL IS SOMERSAULTING through the corridor on the way to Ginata’s rooms. He is still being followed and quite enjoying being ridiculously foolish for the sake of the guard following him. He has already eaten the dog’s scraps for his breakfast and juggled with full water jugs, soaking himself and a few people that were passing, and now he is flipping his way to Ginata.

  “I need a potion, a love potion,” he tells the guard who pretends to be uninterested, though he could not be more obvious about following him. Will is sure by now that he is far less foolish than most of Millard’s guards.

  He knocks on the door but doesn’t wait for Ginata to call for him; he is fed up of being watched and slips inside. Ginata is sitting at the window seat, two people Will doesn’t know standing in front of her, hugging each other.

  He shakes off his fool’s self, and straightens up, taking the silly look off his face; really, he’s a pretty good actor. He acts the fool but he’s sure he’s not. Not really.

  “Good morning.”

  Ginata turns to him, relief palpable. “Will!”

  She beckons him over and he joins her. “Will, these are Archer’s friends.”

  Will’s face drops, sadness and empathy taking the place of his normal open and friendly expression. “I’m so sorry.”

  “Thank you.” It’s Weaver that speaks; the woman, a mask covering most of her face, is sullenly silent.

  “He was a fine fellow. You must be heartbroken.”

  “That’s an understatement.” Weaver says, wiping at fresh tears. Will he ever stop crying?

  Ceryn glares at Will but doesn’t speak.

  “I’ll leave you two to eat,” Ginata says and draws Will away from them to the other end of the room.

  “Poor things,” Will says, looking back at them. Neither of them is eating, just talking, their voices low, hands wiping at tears.

  “Indeed. She wants to meet Everleigh.”

  “Why?”

  Ginata shrugs. “I think she was in love w
ith Archer. I think she blames Everleigh. I think she’s furious. And pretty spiky anyway.”

  “What’s with the mask?”

  “I’m not sure. I feel like she’s had a rough life. There’s a lot of unhappiness inside her. And anger. And defensiveness. Maybe the devil’s mark? Hard to say but it must be bad to keep it covered. Maybe pox scars?”

  “Nasty. Is it a good idea to let her see Everleigh? She looks like she can take care of herself.”

  “Oh, she’s a fighter all right. But I’ll be there and Della and Finn. I think her friend, Weaver, will keep her calm. He’s got a lovely energy.”

  “Unlike her.”

  Ginata smiles. “How are you bearing up? With Lanorie locked up and not being able to see Everleigh?”

  “I’m fine. I’m enjoying messing around for my guard’s sake though. That’s fun.”

  “I bet. It will be over soon. Just a few more days. We tried to rescue Lanorie last night, but Millard was expecting it. We won’t stop trying, though. Everleigh won’t let her die.”

  “Do you think?”

  “I know.”

  “Can you see anything?”

  “My visions are slow, sludgy now. I see fragments of things, symbolism more than anything else. I think I’m too worried to make sense of it all. I need peace.”

  “There’s not much of that going around.”

  “Not at all. What will you do today?”

  “Be foolish. I’ll see you at lunch though. Will our visitors be gone by then, d’you think?”

  “I think so. There’s nothing here for them.”

  “I’ll have some breakfast before I go.”

  Will’s presence seems to calm Weaver and Ceryn slightly; they both eat and drink, and Weaver even smiles once or twice.

  “You would have been proud of Archer,” Will says. “He was so brave and so capable. He won the joust.”

  “He always wins the joust,” Ceryn says shortly. “Won.”

  Everyone is silent. Will and Ginata both wishing Millard was here so they could strangle him with their bare hands.