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

by Gemma Perfect

  I feel Brett tugging at the ties that gather the hood around my neck and I flinch from his fingers, drawing my whole body inwards like I might disappear from his sight completely – from the sight of whoever else is here with us.

  There’s a whoosh over my ears as he pulls the hood off and I push my hair off my face, wiping away the tears and sweat and squinting as my eyes adjust to the gloom.

  I was right, Brett has brought me to one of the caves; I can remember playing here with Addyson and my brothers before they both went mad.

  And I am right that there are other people in the cave but I am not sure if the trauma of being taken has addled my brain somehow.

  Brett is grinning at me, standing placidly by the side of two men I recognise.

  The first is Halfreda’s teacher.

  My eyes come to rest on his smile, and his lovely eyes and then I look to the right of him. And I feel like I’m going to faint, no I am going to faint, because standing next to him, bruised and a little battered looking, standing not quite as strongly and upright as he used to, but with his bright red shock of hair exactly as I dreamed about it and his smile and his face and his eyes and himself so, so perfect, and alive...is Archer.

  BORN TO RULE

  Everleigh

  ARCHER.

  How can something impossible be possible? Archer is dead. I saw it with my own eyes. I saw his body fall, I saw his blood flood the ground and when I put my ear to his chest, the beat of his life was gone.

  I went to the island with Ginata and pushed his dead body into the water.

  And yet here he is, his bright red hair as vibrant as before, his blue eyes glowing, his smile as I remember.

  He’s standing with Halfreda’s teacher.

  And Brett.

  The three of them are smiling at me and again I feel the lightness in my head, the woozy feeling, making my knees buckle, and I know that I’m going to faint when the three smiling men are obscured by thick, fuzzy black spots that swim across the impossible scene in front of me.

  Maybe I have already fainted and this is a dream.

  That must be it, because Halfreda’s teacher left before Macsen’s coronation, Brett hated Archer and knocked him out and would never want to help him, and Archer is dead.

  A dream.

  It doesn’t hurt when I hit the floor, it’s a relief to let go, to lose control.

  1

  “I WORRIED IT MIGHT kill her. The shock.” The teacher looks down at her, concern on his face.

  “Really? Why did we do it like this then? I should have hidden somewhere else. Let you explain everything first.”

  “You’re right. But I was excited. I wanted to see her reaction.”

  “Well, she fainted, a great reaction. Now what?”

  “She’ll get over it pretty quickly and she’ll be fine. And she’s alive. Cover her with your cloak.”

  Archer kneels next to Everleigh, placing his cloak over her and smoothing the hair off her forehead. He smiles over at Brett as he stands up. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome, Archer. I’ve been trying to make amends since that day in the woods. I feel like I’ve done it now.”

  “You have.” Archer gives him a hug, still amazed that the two of them can even be in the same space without fighting.

  “He would have killed her if someone else caught her. Wolf, or any of his men.”

  “I know. I’m glad I managed to get her away.”

  “You should get back before you’re missed.”

  “You’re right. Go on, hit me.”

  At Brett’s say so Archer pulls back his fist and punches him, hard in the face, once, twice and a third time. He helps pull him to his feet, wincing at the pull in his side. “Sorry Brett.”

  “It’s fine. It’s what we decided.” His speech is slurry through his fat lip, and the blood in his mouth. He shakes hands with the teacher and with Archer, and, letting the blood drip over his clothes, gives them a nod before ducking out of the cave.

  “Brave man,” the teacher says, watching Brett walk away. “Do you think it will work?”

  “I think so. The punches were real.”

  “People only see what they want to. I don’t think Millard will suspect him.”

  “I hope not. I wouldn’t want to see him dead. Not now.”

  “Me neither. He did a good thing.”

  The two men are silent, looking down at Everleigh. “I should never have let you talk me into doing it like this.” Archer kneels next to her again, shifting himself until he’s comfy. “What can I do?”

  “She’ll come around. Just give her time.”

  “I’ve got time.” He takes hold of her hand and holds it tight.

  WILL GROANS AND LIFTS his head up. He has no idea where he is or why he’s in such pain, but it can’t be good.

  “Hey, lay back down.” Ginata gently pushes him back until he’s lying flat again. “You took a pretty big whack to the head.”

  “Did I?”

  “You don’t remember?”

  He rubs at his head. “No...I...”

  “What’s your name?”

  “Will.”

  “And my name?”

  “Ginata.”

  “Where are you?”

  He raises his head enough to cast his eyes around. “Your work room. In the castle.”

  “So, no permanent damage done. I think.”

  “Good...so what am I missing? Who hit me?”

  “Brett, I think. One of the King’s men. Millard was going to hang you. He let you go, but you were escaping with Everleigh when you were knocked out. I think. I wasn’t there.”

  “Where were you?”

  “I was with the King. Bringing him back here. His arm was burnt.”

  “So where is he now?”

  Ginata takes a deep breath, steadies her voice. “He’s tied up in his rooms. Hidden. We took his crown.”

  “You took his crown? We won? Where’s Everleigh?”

  “Taken. By Brett. We think. After he hurt you. We don’t really know. It’s such a mess.” She sits down on the stool and puts her head in her hands. “Ceryn followed me here. Do you remember her?”

  “Yes. Archer’s friend. The girl with the mark.”

  “Yes. She followed me up here and hit Millard over the head, twice. We tied him up and then moved him to his rooms. We figured that whoever hurt you and took Everleigh would take her to the King.”

  “Have they?”

  “We don’t know. Ceryn has gone looking for Everleigh in case we were wrong. Weaver’s taken Addyson, Della and Finn back to the cottages. I’m looking after you.”

  “So, who’s watching the King? What about Wolf?”

  “Wolf was attacked by Weaver. We think he’s still unconscious – at least he’s not been in here looking for Millard. No one is watching the King, but he’s tied up. Weaver will come straight back.”

  “So, what do we do?”

  “Well, you need to rest and I need to...”

  “What? What do you need to do?”

  “Nothing. I’ve done enough.”

  WEAVER FOLLOWS FINN, Della and Addyson into the cottage. “I think you’ll be fine here. I’ll go back to the castle, watch the King, until either Ceryn finds Everleigh or whoever took her brings her back. As soon as we know something, we’ll come and get you. Addyson, you’ll be able to go home.”

  “Thank you. I want to thank all of you. It’s been a horrible few days. I’ll be glad to go home.”

  “I’ll miss you, little lamb.” Della takes hold of Addyson’s hand and holds it to her cheek.

  “Will you visit me?”

  “Try keeping me away.”

  Weaver nods to Finn to follow him out. “I won’t be any help if anyone comes looking for the princess.”

  “I don’t think they will. No one knows Everleigh was here. If she has been captured she won’t give up Addyson’s whereabouts. Just be vigilant. Try to keep them calm. I’ll see you soon.”

&nb
sp; Weaver claps Finn on the shoulder and then heads back to the castle. The King is tied up, but Weaver will feel better when he’s being guarded as well.

  CERYN IS SICK OF SCREAMING out the same word over and over again.

  Everleigh.

  It’s pointless. She won’t be roaming the woods around the river; whoever has her will have hidden her or locked her up...

  Shaking her head, Ceryn wonders if it’s too obvious. Would Millard have had her locked in the tower? It’s worth looking and if she’s not there, she’ll go back to the King’s rooms, stay with Weaver and wait until Everleigh is brought back to the castle.

  She rides faster than ever and tethers Pitch in the stable. The tower is unmanned and even as she pushes open the door; she knows that if Everleigh were in here, it would be locked up and heavily guarded.

  She has to check though, and once she has, she heads inside to help Weaver. She only takes one wrong turn on her way to the King’s rooms but finds her bearings pretty quickly.

  She pushes open the door, expecting to find Weaver standing outside the closet, standing guard, and Millard in an unconscious heap on the floor inside, neatly tied up, waiting for Everleigh to dole out the appropriate justice.

  But the room is empty.

  No Weaver.

  She throws open the closet door.

  No King.

  Cursing, she storms out and heads for Ginata’s room.

  Ginata

  WHAT HAVE I DONE? WHAT have I done? What have I done?

  The question reverberates through my brain, my skull, my soul.

  Will is sitting beside me in my receiving room, gingerly touching the tender spot on his head, oblivious to the facts that I have withheld from him.

  Millard, the King of the Realm, who took the throne by murdering his brother, is not tied up.

  Because I freed him.

  He killed his brother, who had killed their father. He killed Halfreda, who was the wise woman in this castle before me, he killed Everleigh’s first love – Archer and he killed her handmaiden, Lanorie.

  Since his coronation, since I moved to the castle to take Halfreda’s place, I have feared for my own life on more than one occasion.

  I know that this King, this young man, is a menace. He is dangerous, impulsive, terrifying really, and yet...

  How can you explain something that you do not understand?

  I am not a foolish woman. I pride myself on being clever and intuitive, level headed and good hearted.

  But I can also tell you that even through my fear, I could accept that Millard was handsome, alluring, even.

  I am a woman unused to the attentions of men. I am innocent of so much and yet when he kissed me – twice – my head turned and my heart thawed.

  But now I feel sick that I have betrayed Everleigh.

  The Kingmaker who lived, the Kingmaker who should rule. I have sworn to put her on the throne, sworn to help her and thwart her brother and yet I have aided him.

  But when I saw him tied up, vulnerable and hurting, attacked and unable to defend himself, I wanted to help; I had to help. My heart told me to help him and I did.

  I cannot explain it or justify it.

  But I did it.

  I take a drink from the flagon of ale on the table and ask Will if he wants any. He shakes his head and I move to his side. “Are you alright?”

  “Lanorie’s dead.”

  I nod my head. The murderous King did it. And yet I still have a soft spot for him in my heart.

  I disgust myself.

  “She is. I’m sorry.”

  Will has loved her for a long time, the fool and the handmaiden, Everleigh’s handmaiden, like a silly tale or a song. And what would my song be? The King and the wise woman? Not so wise, really.

  “My head hurts, I can’t...”

  “Rest. There is nothing we can do until we find Everleigh. We may have Millard’s crown but we have nowhere to put it.”

  “It’s my fault we lost Everleigh.”

  “No, Will. It’s Brett’s fault. He took her.”

  “I don’t remember anything...”

  “Maybe that’s for the best.”

  I leave Will resting, hurting, worrying and I walk through to the other room. Millard’s crown is sitting on the table where Addyson put it.

  I touch it and wonder again at what I have done and what I have become.

  When I dole out lotions and potions I always give my advice to go along with it. I give it freely and I think I’m pretty clever, pretty good at telling others what to do.

  What should I do?

  I have betrayed a friend. I have helped a murderer. I have fallen in...what? Love? No, I do not love him – I know how horrible he can be, how evil his actions are. Lust? I find him attractive but I cannot say that I am overcome with wantonness at the sight of him.

  I cannot explain or understand and so what do I do now?

  If I continue to help Everleigh, despite my betrayal, do I tell her what I have done? Would she forgive me? She is forgiving. She is kind and just and so wonderfully perfect. And I am dark and cruel. We finally had what we wanted. Millard was helpless, his crown stripped from him, his throne ready for the taking and I let him go.

  I will help Everleigh but I do not want to tell her what I did, who I am, what I have become.

  A traitor.

  On both sides.

  Millard thinks I serve him but I aid Everleigh.

  Everleigh thinks I serve her but I aid Millard.

  Maybe the only person I truly serve is myself?

  2

  ARCHER HASN’T MOVED from Everleigh’s side. He is determined that when she stirs, when she opens her eyes, he will be the first thing she sees. And then he will be able to explain to her, hopefully without her fainting again, what happened to him and how he is here.

  He winces in pain, remembering the coronation, his fight with Millard. Waking up hours later, wrapped up in old blankets, next to a fire, a disgusting concoction being dripped slowly into his mouth. The pain in his side, his heart, his head.

  “I will never be able to thank you enough for what you did for me,” he says to the teacher.

  The teacher smiles and walks to his side, touching his head softly. “Everleigh needs you. You need her. It wasn’t your time to die.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “Because you are alive.”

  “Funny. You think I’d be used to you talking in riddles by now.”

  “Sorry. I have no answer for you. I don’t know why I gave you the body shield. I don’t know why I came back. I don’t know why I thought I could save you.”

  “But you did.”

  “I did. And you are glad?”

  “Of course. No one wants to die.”

  “Some do.”

  “Who?”

  “An old man, ill and confined to bed, his brain sharp but his body broken may be glad to end it all.”

  “Fine. Some do.” Archer closes his eyes. The teacher – who still hasn’t revealed his real name despite Archer asking him constantly – is clever and wise but also exhausting.

  “Sorry if I irritate you.”

  “You do. But only because I’m in pain and worried about Everleigh.”

  “She’ll be fine and so will you. Your body is almost healed on the outside which means it is healing on the inside.”

  They are both silent, watching Everleigh, her breathing steady and her colour slowly coming back.

  CERYN TAKES THREE WRONG turns in her haste to find Ginata’s rooms and is cursing under her breath by the time she pushes open the door. Ginata looks up, pulling her fingers away from Millard’s crown. “Any sign of her?”

  Ceryn shakes her head. “No. And Millard’s gone. And Weaver.”

  “Weaver took Addyson back to the cottages. With Della and Finn. We thought she’d be safer there.”

  “And the King?”

  Ginata shrugs, deceit making her movements painful and slow, her face a practised mask
of innocence. “I don’t know.”

  “You haven’t seen him? Wolf?”

  “Nobody’s been in here. It’s just me and Will.”

  “How is he?”

  “Come and see.”

  They walk through to Ginata’s work room, where Ceryn smashed a bowl over the King’s head, knocking him unconscious.

  Will groans as he sits up. “Hello. Well done on capturing Millard.”

  “He’s gone.”

  “Where?”

  Ceryn lets out a shout of frustration. “No one knows. Millard’s gone. Everleigh’s gone. Weaver left the King. I left Weaver. I should have killed Millard while I had the chance. Damn him.” She kicks at the table and swears when she hurts herself.

  “Damn me.” Will sits up, moaning in pain. “I should have looked after her better. I should have protected her.”

  “You tried. Brett knocked you out.”

  “That’s no excuse. I should have run faster with her, gone a different way, hidden somewhere.”

  “Will. We know how much you love her. You’d never see her hurt. It wasn’t your fault. Really.”

  Ginata takes a deep breath. “Whoever has Everleigh will bring her back here. They cannot mean to harm her. Millard would want her alive. We’ll just go back to his rooms and wait.”

  “But he’s gone. What if he’s gone to her? To whoever has her. She’s not safe.”

  “I don’t know what to say. I don’t know what to do.”

  “We need to go to the cottages,” Will says, standing up and swaying slightly. “We all need to be together and then we can make a plan.”

  “Our plans don’t work.” Ceryn’s voice is as angry as her face. “We had him. We have his crown. I could scream.”

  “We have no idea where either of them is. Let’s do what Will said. Go down to the cottages and at least the rest of us will all be in one place.”