He lets go of her, coming to the same conclusion that I have. She is not a flight risk.
The hounds and the King’s men come running into the courtyard and surround us, and the little maid sinks on to the floor sobbing.
Wolf steps forward, taking charge and grins at me. “Ha! I never trusted you. Wait till I tell the King.”
Molten fear loosens my insides and then I smile at him. “I just got here. I was walking through the grounds when I heard this little maid screaming.” I stoop down and gather her into my arms, pull her to her feet, keeping her next to me. I feel so guilty that we put her in this position, but at the same time so glad that I kept myself hidden. “I have no clue what’s going on. But it’s good to know where we stand.” He glowers at me and asks the guard if what I say is true. The guard nods and I scowl at Wolf.
“I may be a new advisor to the King but I know he thinks highly of me. I cannot imagine what he’ll say about you accusing me like this.”
Wolf kicks at the stones on the path. “Apologies. I saw her with the drink and I saw you and I thought...”
“What drink?” I am missing something here, a feeling I’m not used to, a feeling I don’t like.
Everyone snaps to attention and even the hounds are quiet.
Our King has arrived.
14
MILLARD MARCHES TOWARDS the gathering of guards, King’s men and Ginata with an icy glare etched on his handsome face.
The crowd bows low and he cannot help but smile despite his evident fury.
“You?” He raises a hand and points at Ginata, but Wolf jumps in.
“My King, I thought the same. I was wrong. The guard agrees with her version. She was passing by when she heard the maid scream.”
“Truly?” His eyes soften and he smiles at his new wise woman. He’d like to believe she serves only him.
Ginata steps towards him and takes his hand in hers. “My King. These are early days for us two. You, a newly crowned King, crowned by me. Me, a newly appointed wise woman. I understand that you might not trust me fully, but I assure you with an open and true heart, I serve only you.”
Millard’s eyes mist with tears and he hugs her to him. Ginata smiles and lowers her gaze from his.
“I hope I am right to trust you, Ginata. I feel like I am, but I wish I could be sure.”
“Be sure. And tell me why this brute was hurting this poor little maid?”
The guard has the grace to look embarrassed and Millard nods at the little maid.
“What’s your name?”
She blushes when he looks at her and stammers out the word: “Molly.”
Millard gestures to the two mugs of ale, placed on the floor, next to the tower door. “Who gave you these mugs, Molly?”
“I got them from the kitchen.”
“On whose say so?”
She stutters and mumbles and shrugs helplessly at him. She does not want to tell him but she is petrified not to. Little maids only ever follow orders; there is no such thing as initiative at the castle, and she cannot lay the blame anywhere other than at Everleigh’s door.
“The Kingmaker. Everleigh.”
Millard all but hisses, and grabs hold of her wrists. “She was here? Where is she?”
Molly cries out and Ginata reaches out for her, covers Millard’s hand with her own. It loosens his grip and as he looks at her she wonders if she has overstepped the mark, but he smiles at her, head to one side, as though he’s contemplating something about her.
He lets go of Molly, who is still crying, too scared to wipe at her tears, just standing as still as she can, hoping the King will turn away from her.
“Last night when my lovely sister tried to kill me, she drugged my guards. I thought she might stoop so low as to try it again and I was ready.”
“A sleeping draught? I suppose Halfreda had so many potions it would be all but impossible to know if any were missing...” Ginata says, and it’s true, it’s not just to distance herself from Everleigh.
“Ha! She is so sneaky. So, after she drugged my guards, it got me thinking. Aside from having me killed, what matters most to Everleigh?”
Ginata shakes her head, though she knows the answer: Addyson.
“Our little cursed sister, Addyson. So, then I thought to myself that if she could drug my guards once, she could do it again. I warned the guards here that if anyone offered them a drink, outside of their normal meal times, they should keep hold of them and call out for my men.”
He looks so proud of himself for thinking of this, for making such a plan, for guessing what his sister had planned.
Ginata is nodding along with him, trying to keep a smile on her face when she realises that they have walked right into his trap. He is one step ahead of them.
“My King, let her go.” Ginata gestures to Molly.
“Molly, do you know where she is or where she went?”
Molly shakes her head no, fear silencing her.
Millard gestures for her to leave and as she runs back to the kitchen, he turns to Wolf and whispers so that nobody but Wolf can hear him: “Kill her. When you get the chance. Just kill her.”
He turns to Ginata. “I’m going to move Addyson. I have to. I can’t risk Everleigh getting hold of her. She will stop at nothing to ruin my reign.”
Ginata keeps her voice as calm as she is able. “Leave her, my King. Surely Everleigh will not try again tonight. She must have seen what happened to little Molly. She must have fled. She wouldn’t be so stupid as to try again.”
“I can’t trust her, Ginata. Men, take the hounds out, see if you can find Everleigh. You, Sir,” he claps the guard on his back, “did a good job. Now I need you to drink this, just to see if I was right.”
Millard picks up the mug and passes it to the guard. “Brett will watch the door if it knocks you out.”
The guard smiles and takes the drink. Whatever he is asked to, he will do it. He lifts the mug in a cheers motion and downs it.
If she wasn’t as on edge as she was, Ginata would probably be laughing; within seconds he falls on the floor like a sack of spuds and is snoring in less than a minute.
Millard curses. “My sister will be the death of me.”
Ginata gives an almost, she hopes, unperceivable nod of her head, let’s hope so.
“Brett, guard the door until he wakes up.”
Brett nods and Millard turns away, upset marring his features. “Wolf, join the others, see if she’s anywhere close around. She can’t have gone far. Maybe I’ll be lucky.”
Ginata falls into step with him, happy to be moving away from the tower.
“Lock your door, Ginata. If she is stealing potions she may try it again.”
“I will, though I have to say I have not seen her.”
“I believe you.” He reaches out and strokes her arm, just for a second.
“I would feel happier if she was locked away. If she was safe,” Ginata says, hoping to sway him away from the idea that he has to kill Everleigh.
“I hate to say it but I don’t think that locking her away is going to be enough.”
“My King?”
“She wants me dead. She wants my crown. She came here tonight to steal Addyson from under my nose. I cannot bear her. I cannot let her live and make a fool out of me at every turn.”
“My King. I agree that she has done some things which would make you question keeping her alive. But to lock her up would be to take away her freedoms, her ability to usurp you. And the people would thank you. You know she is beloved, don’t you?”
“I do. And you are right. Maybe the tower would work...”
He stops still, looking back at the tower, before turning and walking away from it.
Ginata almost collapses to the floor, relieved that her treachery will go unnoticed for at least another night.
Ceryn
WE HAVE RIDDEN HARD and the fury over what happened at the inn has pushed me on. I will not stop again until we reach Archer. I will sleep ton
ight in his care, at the castle; I will not put myself in danger or in an awkward position again. My boys will keep me safe.
Weaver pretends he isn’t, but I know he’s watching me as we ride. “What?” I shout at him after the twentieth time I catch him looking.
“Nothing.”
I don’t even answer that; just glare at him, pull Pitch to a stop, forcing him to do the same.
“What?”
“We love you. Archer and me. We love you. Regardless...That’s all.”
I huff and snort at the same time, the sort of unfeminine noise I often make. Weaver laughs and I ride on again, ignoring him. We are almost at the castle, following the river now, letting the horses drink as we go.
I spot the castle and spur Pitch to go faster for the last leg of the journey.
We ride to the gates and call up to the guard that we are here to visit the wise woman. I don’t know Halfreda personally, but the guards will. They might not know Archer by name, though they will surely know his shock of red hair. There will be less explanations wanted and waiting around in the cold and dark, if we ask for her instead.
He shows us where the stables are and tells us the pages will help us from there.
I jump off Pitch’s back and walk along with her, rubbing her side as we go. Weaver calls out to a page. “Can you help us, please? We are here to see Halfreda and her kin, Archer.”
The page turns white, upset changing his face. “Halfreda’s dead. The wise woman’s dead. The King killed her.”
“Who can help us, boy?” My voice is harsh and he scoots away. I have a feeling in my stomach like a thousand angry wasps have woken up in there, they are writhing around, stinging me with sharp little snaps. If Halfreda is dead, is Archer alright?
A woman is walking towards us, young-ish, pretty, worried looking. “Miss, can you help us? We’ve ridden to see Halfreda and her kin, Archer. The young lad told us she’s dead. That the King killed her, but the guard let us in when we asked for the wise woman...”
I trail off, watching her face. “Archer?” She closes her eyes, like we might have disappeared when she opens them again, but we won’t. I need answers and I don’t think I’m going to like them.
She looks at us both and the sorrow on her face confirms it. Halfreda is dead and so is Archer. I drop to the floor crying.
I hear her talking to Weaver but I don’t know what she’s saying. It just sounds like a mess of noise.
In my life, my friendship with Archer and Weaver, after my love and protection from Carter, has been the most important thing, the only thing. It has become part of me. When my feelings changed for Archer, I kept my secret locked inside, a tight, hot, emotionally charged ball; that ball has burst open now, killing me from the inside.
How can he be gone?
He was the most perfect man. He made me want to be a girl.
I can hear myself howling and the voice is not my own; something’s changed for ever.
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 nonse
nse. 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.”
Seize the Crown Page 11
