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 an
d 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.
Lanorie
I’VE NEVER BEEN IN the tower before and I can tell you I was right scared just standing outside. Cook reckons I’m the best one to take up Addyson’s food for the first time, someone she knows, someone to reassure her, and take word to Everleigh that she is alive and well. Cook pretends all she likes to do is gossip and knock the pages over the head with her rolling pin, but she’s got a good heart. Hers is a good idea, and almost immediately I get an idea of my own.
I run to my room and grab the one bit of my daily dress that I hardly ever bother wearing, a little cap. I tuck my hair into it.
It might be a good idea, but my knees are pretty much knocking together thinking about it. I don’t usually have plans. I’m happy to do as I’m told, never have to wonder, never have to think. Go here, do this, do that, yes princess, no princess...not having a choice is easy, but sometimes the easy option doesn’t feel right anymore.
I messed up my friendship with Everleigh when I spilled her secret. She won’t say it, but I know it. And I must make it better, somehow.
So, the tower’s separate to the main castle and so high that even bending my neck, I can’t see the top. Stood right in front of the door is one of the King’s men, holding a sword, ready to strike. Frightens me so much the tray of food shakes, ale spilling everywhere.
He looks over at me, a massive scowl on his face, an ugly face he has too. “What?” he says to me, all grumpy.
My voice is a squeak, I’m not ashamed to tell you. “Food. For Addyson.” I want to ask him what the heck he thinks I’m doing there with some dinner on a tray. I’m obviously not there to feed him. Fat pig.
He bangs three times on the door with his spare fist, and then opens the door. I am shaking as I pass him, hoping he won’t attack me and shaking the whole way up the stairs. I have no clue where Addyson is, what room she’s in, or anything, but after three lots of twisting stairs and plenty of spilled ale, I come across another one of the King’s men.
He’s stood in front of a door, facing outwards, grumpy look on his face. Poor Addyson must be well past petrified, being guarded so closely by these thugs. What Millard expects her to do, I don’t know? She’s only eleven, hardly a huge threat to him and all his soldiers.
So, he lets me in and slams the door behind me, happy to leave me on my own with her, after all, I’m no threat, either.
I don’t know her half as well as I know Everleigh, but she drops in to my arms straightaway and I hold her tight. I’m not that much older than her really, but I feel older. Her little body is cold and shaking, her face wet from crying. “It’s alright, it’s alright, it’s alright.” I repeat myself, reassuring myself as much as her, I reckon.
“Everleigh’s safe. And I’m going to get you out of here.”
She cries even louder then, probably with relief. “I hate it in here. It’s so cold, and I’m so hungry. The guards are scary.”
“Quiet,” I whisper. Poor cursed princess, she may not be well liked in the Realm, people are right superstitious around here, but she’s just a little princess. She’s always been well looked after. This tower must be the worst thing for her. It’s not much warmer or fancier than my little room off the kitchen.
I nod my head. Decision made. Everleigh is my Queen even without a crown on her head, and it’s partly, or maybe all, my fault that her father is dead, and her brother and Halfreda and Archer. I told her secret and the stupid boy I’d been kissing went back and told Macsen and Macsen tried to kill everyone before Millard did kill everyone else. It’s all a mess and it’s all my fault.
I don’t want the pigs guarding her to know anything, so I hold a finger to my lips. “I’m going to swap places with you.” Her eyes are wide, mouth open to protest or thank me, I don’t know which, but I shake my head quickly.
“I need to do this, then you need to go to Halfreda’s room, knock the door and call Everleigh’s name. If she doesn’t answer, call Will. You need to be quick and you need to be quiet. Though I don’t think those guards are all that smart, and I don’t think they’ll be expecting anything like this.”
I reckon everyone’s still a bit shocked by the day’s events and I reckon I can do it. I feel sick and excited at the same time. I don’t do brave things. I don’t do anything. I serve and I wait on people.
But ever since Millard took the crown I have felt like I need to make things better, make what I did wrong better and if I free Addyson I reckon I’ll be well on the way.
On the way to Everleigh trusting me again.
I pull off my maid’s livery until I’m just in my slip, one of Everleigh’s old ones and made of beautiful silver silk. I help Addyson undress, hoping that the guard won’t decide to open the door. I don’t think he will, why would he? But my movements are clumsy as I untie her laces. Her dress is gorgeous, made of thick embroidered velvet and I will be glad to wear it.
Although we are not much different in size, she looks like a little girl playing dress up in my clothes. She looks so frightened and unsure; but I know I have done the right thing. With her father dead, she needs to be reunited with the person who loves her most, and not be used by Millard when he wants to frighten everyone by tying her up and locking her away.
She smiles at me, her eyes full of unshed tears. “Keep your head down,” I tell her, as I tuck her hair into my cap. She’ll do it, if she’s quick and brave. She’ll do it.
“Be quick and brave. Go to Everleigh.”
She nods at me, face white and eyes huge.
Before either of us can change our minds, I knock on the door, then sit in the corner, nibbling on the food I brought for Addyson. I hope he will not look too closely at either of us and I whisper, good luck, just before he opens the door.
She walks out with more bravado than I would have in her position and I take a big gulp of ale, hoping I’ve done the right thing, and hoping Millard won’t slice my head off when he finds out what I’ve done.
4
WILL WALKS AS SLOWLY as he is able without angering Wolf, who has a tight hold of his arm, pointlessly trying to delay the inevitable. Though he has no idea what the realities of the inevitable will be; he’s sure he won’t like them.
Being Everleigh’s best friend, but still having a role within the castle – learning the way of the fool – Millard and Macsen were always just her brothers who he tried to entertain. He doesn’t know them well at all.
What he saw of Macsen and Millard yesterday has left him quaking, though.
Seeing how Wolf handled Addyson and Everleigh is also making Will nervous.
The walk from Halfreda’s room to the new King’s room takes an age as he imagines one heart-stopping scenario and another and another, but the walk is also too short.
Two burly guards open the doors when they see Wolf coming; not wanting to keep him waiting.
Millard i
s standing looking out of the window and turns to greet them.
Will smiles and bows low.
“Will!” Millard sounds pleased to see him and while Will manages to keep the smile on his face, he feels his insides shrink, as though he wants to make himself smaller; less of a target; invisible. “Where’s the handmaiden?” he asks, looking at Wolf.
Wolf shrugs. “Can’t find her.”
“Send someone to find her. Tell them to keep looking.”
Millard strides across the room to Will and claps him on the back.
Will coughs. “Your Grace.”
“I can’t get used to that,” Millard says laughing. “Your Grace. It seems so formal.”
Will is silent but smiling; fearing he must look very much the fool indeed.
“So, Will. I saw you helping my dear sister earlier, so chivalrous, so gentlemanly.”
Will feels like he is being tricked. Millard is being too nice.
“Where is she?” Millard has his hand on Will’s back again, less of a clap, more of a grasp.
Will opens his mouth but cannot force any sound to come out.
Millard grips him harder. “Where is she?”
Wolf steps closer to them. Will does not want him to join in.
“I don’t know,” he lies with a stammer, and knows he doesn’t sound convincing.
Abruptly Millard lets go of his shoulder and paces in front of him. “Let me explain things to you, Will, since you are a fool in the making, maybe more of a fool than less, I’m not sure how learned you are, how bright you are, how clever you are, how much you understand.”
He stands still, facing Will. “I have been planning my reign for a very long time. Since I was a little boy. They would talk of Everleigh’s role in choosing who would rule, the magic of her blood, the sanctity of the Kingmaker, and as much as I love her, I knew I couldn’t let her have a say in choosing who would rule. It couldn’t be a random decision made by her blood. I couldn’t let her live, sadly. People had to think I had been chosen, but I was working out how. Then Macsen, dear Macsen, saved me a lot of trouble, and really...Ha, I’ve never thought of this, but how similar we were, how alike. He had the same idea as me, and I let him carry on. I didn’t realise he’d kill our father, I regret that. He didn’t need to die for me to rule. For either of us to rule. And, of course, he’d found out Everleigh’s little secret, too.”
Seize the Crown Page 3
