She follows Archer with the second pack, up to the higher part of the forest. It is so beautiful but so quiet. She has called out silently to all the woodland creatures and told them all to hide, to burrow, or fly up high, to find shelter.
They have listened to her, obeyed her, and the feeling of power that her magic gives her is back. How can she not be Queen of the Realm when she can do things like this?
Archer is amused by her, indulgent of her. He knows what she’s done and every time someone exclaims at how quiet it is and Everleigh agrees he can barely contain his laughter. He snorts and turns it into a cough.
Everleigh giggles. This is fun.
Then she hears Millard call, “Down by the river!” and the whole pack turns and heads in that direction. Silently she screams at the deer: Move! Move! Move! She can only pray to the gods that they will listen.
She races ahead of the other riders until she is level with Millard. “They must be by the river. It’s the only place left,” he says, calling loudly over the sound of hundreds of hooves.
Everleigh needs to get there with Millard; she knows how quick off the mark he is with his bow and arrows. He has a better shot than she does, maybe not as good as Archer.
This has become a battle. She knows it’s stupid because she will happily eat deer, but this has become a challenge; a game to win. Can she, as Queen, outwit the will of all these men. She isn’t sure what it will mean if she can or can’t, but she needs to try.
They thunder along between a thatch of trees and then she sees the river ahead. Relief is instant; she can’t see any deer. They listened.
“Yes!” Millard calls out and Everleigh sees it. One little deer, alone at the water’s edge, still lapping at the water. He might be too little to hear her direction or he might have heard it but not understood it, or just been too slow and got left behind. She can’t let Millard kill it. He has his bow up ready, sights set on him.
Run, Everleigh shouts inside her own head. The deer moves slightly, pricks up its ears.
“Let him go, Millard. He’s just a baby,” Everleigh pleads for the little deer; she knows Millard won’t listen to her though. Both Macsen and Millard enjoy the hunt; for sport and for necessity.
The lack of animals today has frustrated everyone on the hunt, and it’ll be a real coup if Millard shoots something.
He doesn’t even answer her. Archer arrives by her side and reaches for her hand.
Millard lets the arrow fly. Everleigh shakes her head, silently shouting at the deer to move, move, move, willing the arrow to miss, even though she knows Millard is a perfect shot.
The arrow flies, aiming for the deer’s heart.
She whispers in her head: Miss.
The arrow quivers slightly and misses.
Everleigh smiles as Millard curses. Archer squeezes her hand; he knows that she’s had some part in this.
Millard takes another arrow and as the deer runs, he takes another shot. Everleigh wishes it off course again, with a tiny flick of her head.
Millard is furious when he misses again. “Must be the wind,” he mutters, readying another arrow.
Everleigh grins and the deer bolts through the trees. Out of reach. Safe.
“Bad luck.” Archer rides around and pats Millard on the shoulder. He whips his head around. “Not bad luck, no such thing. Bloody wind.”
Archer nods, wisely saying no more. Everleigh looks away. It won’t do for Millard to see just how pleased she is.
“Call off the hunt,” Millard says to the rest of the riders. “I’m done.” Without another word, he turns his horse and takes off at speed back to the castle.
Everleigh and Archer are silent as they watch everyone follow suit.
“That was you?”
Everleigh nods.
“I didn’t know-”
“Neither did I. I know I can change the weather and speak to the animals, but I had no idea I could do that. I want to do it again!”
“Easy now.”
She laughs and moves her horse next to his, leaning over she kisses him. “I’m just so happy.”
“Me too.” And he is. He reaches over his shoulder, and pulls out his bow and arrow. Without aiming at anything, he lets it fly.
She smiles at him, watches it for a second and then turns it up so that it’s flying up to the sky, then she turns it again so that it flies at the floor.
“That was incredible,” Archer says, pulling out another arrow. “One more?”
Everleigh nods. She could do this all day.
She sends the next arrow flying back towards them, whistling through the middle of their horses and landing behind them.
Still laughing she leans over and kisses him again.
ARCHER TAKES THE HORSES back to the stables and Everleigh goes to see Halfreda. She wants to tell her that she can move things. That her mind has control over things other than animals.
The teacher answers her door, bowing low when he sees her. “Halfreda is not here, Everleigh. Can I help you?” His voice is deep, rich, his dark eyes serious.
She nods. He may know more than Halfreda about such matters. He was her teacher after all; it stood to reason that he was wiser than she was.
She sits on one of Halfreda’s two over stuffed, super comfy chairs in front of the fire. The fire is always lit, the room a haven.
“Halfreda took me to the river.”
The teacher nods, encouraging her to continue. “Go on.”
“I made the river rise.”
“I wish I had seen it.”
“Halfreda said that’s how she knew I was the Kingmaker who would live. The one from the prophecy.”
“Right. A true ruler can command mother nature. A true ruler governs everything under the moon and stars, not just man. The river, the animals, the weather – have you called a storm yet?”
“Yes, I couldn’t believe that I was the one doing it.”
He smiles and takes her hand. “Kingmakers are special, Everleigh, no doubt about it. Their sacrifice, the magic in their veins, it makes the running of our Realm, our peaceful Realm, possible. But a ruler is obviously even more special. As a ruler born you have that magic, that power to tap in to. Practise it, learn to control it and to rein it in. You’ll have much fun doing so.”
“Today I did something else.”
“What, Queen, what did you do?”
“I moved an arrow. I changed its course.”
He lets go of her hands, sits back, rubs his chin. “Why?”
“Why?”
“Why did you move it? What were you trying to achieve?”
“My brother was about to kill a deer. I don’t like hunting. I just sort of set it off course with my thoughts.”
He stands up, pacing in front of the fire before facing her. He kneels before her.
“Everleigh. Not all rulers can do what you are saying. Your father cannot.”
“Really?”
“No. It means you are even more special, with some witchcraft running through your soul, maybe. I must tell you something. A prophecy is a funny thing, Everleigh. It tells of a future that has not been decided yet. Life can change. Not all prophecies can come true.”
“So, I might not rule?” A sick feeling of dread washes over her.
“You will. I am more sure of it now than ever. This prophecy has magic in it, the day you made the river rise, the writing changed; it started to glow. But there is something I didn’t tell Halfreda, that I was told about it. About the prophecy.”
“What?”
“I didn’t want Halfreda to know what I was told because I didn’t want her to influence any of the Kingmakers. She knows them, cares for them, loves them. If she could help them live, I wasn’t sure she could resist trying.”
“But she told me no one else had made the river rise.”
“True. You are the first. The only one. But the Kingmaker who lived had to do one thing. She had to want it and she had to believe it. She had to choose to live.”
“I don’t understand.”
“I believe you are the Kingmaker that the prophecy speaks of because you chose to live. That choice, that decision, that brave and courageous step sparked the magic inside you, which in turn, made the river rise. You are the only Kingmaker who was special enough to believe you could do it. Therefore, you did it. You have awoken even stronger magic as well. You have made an inanimate object bend to your will. Your will is strong.”
“I chose to live? Why didn’t any of the others? Why did they all choose to die?”
“I cannot say for sure. I wasn’t here.”
“So, all the other Kingmakers who died, any one of them could have lived?”
“Yes.”
“Why? Why not choose to live?”
“Fear. Duty. Tradition. Any one of those could make someone with less courage than you freeze. Fear, most likely, fear is a terrible thing.”
Everleigh wipes her tears away. All those lives wasted through fear? Her own aunt...
“You will be Queen. I know it. Be wise Queen. Learn to command and control your gifts – don’t forget Halfreda will help and assist you, for as long as she can. She has a wealth of knowledge about magic. I think you will be a tremendously powerful Queen.”
He takes her hand and kisses it, his head bowed reverently.
Halfreda
THE JOURNEY IS SLOW to Ginata’s little cottage. I should have asked for a coach, but I didn’t want anyone spying on me. This happy, love-filled castle has quickly turned into a castle of plots and intrigues.
I don’t feel safe. My teacher thinks I am right to speak to Ginata about taking over my role. He has seen my end as well. We laughed and hugged and cried a little bit, but then I felt at ease. Death is welcome to me.
Once I have sorted out the people I will leave behind.
The way to the village is a trek and I smile that it might be what finishes me off. There is no rush, though, so I pace myself and hope I live past the hour.
I do live. Just about, and as I see Ginata’s cottage, front door open, I am pleased. I did not want to die on the side of the road like an old horse. And yet I also know it will not be that easy.
Ginata will make a good addition to the castle, young but learned, and clever and bright. She will make a change from this withered old crone, that’s for sure. She will give Everleigh good counsel, and they will both be starting a new chapter together. They will learn to trust each other and work together as they go. The timing is good.
I open her gate and shuffle down her path. I knock the door jamb. She is sitting on a chair, looking worse than I have ever seen her.
Ginata is a different kind of white witch to me. I was tormented by my life and my gift. I tried to escape it and I battled against it. Ginata felt her powers as a little girl, and as she does with life itself, she did with her gift; she embraced it. It made her happy and in turn it made other people happy.
She is quick and fiery and funny. She looks well and keeps her home well. The men of the castle will enjoy having her near; she’s very pretty and has a coquettish manner which men find endearing. She will turn many heads, with her long jet-black hair and bright green eyes.
This death draught has taken its toll on her though and it is evident in the look of her cottage as well as herself. She turns to look at me and I can only describe it like this: she dissolved. Her body collapsed, her face crumpled. Her composure and easy manner were gone, replaced with a torment that was as easy to see as the sky on a clear day.
“Halfreda.” Her voice is quiet, flat and unhappy. I am sorry now that I put this on her. But then the other option – saying no to the cloaked man – was not really an option. He would have killed her if she tried to stand her ground against him. And that would have left her in a far worse state than she is in today.
I sit next to her and take her hand, I try to transfer my calm to her. It’s hard; she is blocking me. I throw some herbs from my basket on to her fire, and the sparks bring some much-needed life to the room. The smell is sweet and I hope that the fragrance will perk Ginata up.
“Ginata. You had to do it.”
She nods and looks up at me, skin clammy and pale, eyes wretched. “I know. I am selfish. I didn’t want to die.”
“It’s not your time to die.” I try to be firm with her, to help shake her out of this turmoil.
“He came to take the draught. I was pleased. I needed it out of here. It had turned the cottage evil. He was pleased with me.”
“Good. Your actions have kept you safe. He could not know that I was on to him. It would have made him angry. His plan would have changed and I wouldn’t have been able to prepare for it.”
“I am a helper to him, now. He sees me as an ally. He has told me that he will need me again. Halfreda. What have I done?”
I curse under my breath; this I didn’t see coming. Another sign that the end of my life is nigh. I am not as sharp as I was. Of course this corrupt prince would want an ally; and what better one than Ginata? Young, beautiful and with powers and poultices that will help him in his bloody future. I was stupid not to see it.
“Ginata, the time has come for me to go. I need to tell you all that I know and we can plan. You will not be his puppet; I won’t allow it. You will take my place in the castle and help shape a wonderful future. The castle is changing; the future is a new era. History will be shaped. You can be part of it.”
She shakes her head. “I have done a terrible thing, Halfreda, and if I go on, I will be forced to do more and more terrible things. I am going to leave. Go away.”
I shake my head and take hold of her. “Ginata. No. That is not your future. You have always known that you would take my place; that is your future. It is time to take it. Go forwards.”
Ginata shakes her head again. I stand up, slowly, brew some tea and settle down to tell her everything I know. About Everleigh, the prophecy, the prince who has turned. I must tell her everything, I have to put her in place before I die. It is time.
And when I go back to the castle I will visit with the King. I will not tell him about his son, it would break his heart and there is no need to, but I will tell him about Everleigh. She will be pleased that he knows and he is a wise man himself, he will know to keep it a secret, but it will help her to have him to talk to. When Everleigh is pronounced Queen on Saturday, with Archer there to protect her, all will be well.
I also want to tell him about me. I have been with him his whole life. I was there when he was born, all through his childhood, until his sister died and her sacrifice made him King. He has been a good King and a good friend. I am closer to him than I was to his father, and I will miss him.
He won’t find it strange that I know my end is coming, I know so much, I see so much. I am hoping he will feel sorrow and miss me, but that is purely a selfish want. For the sake of the future of the castle, Ginata will be a good replacement for me. She is young enough to be better than me in time.
Time is on her side, if not mine.
17
THE LITTLE VIAL THAT contains the death draught doesn’t look like anything special, but as he holds it in his hand, he feels its power. He has great plans and this little vial is only the start of it.
“Are you going to test it?”
“Of course, Wolf, I have to.”
Wolf, the man who stood guard outside Ginata’s cottage, grins. “On who?”
“I’m trying to decide.” He has already decided; but he doesn’t want to share all his secrets.
“Tell me if you need assistance.”
“I will.” He’s gathering quite the little collection of henchmen and potentially devastating allies and enjoying himself immensely while he does it. People love power.
“Any news from the handmaiden?”
Wolf shakes his head. “I know he is enjoying her company immensely. I’m expecting him soon, I left him in the stable this morning looking after the horses that didn’t go on the hunt, and I’m hoping there’ll be some
gossip. Lanorie knows her best after all.”
Quietly the two men sit, content with their own thoughts.
ARCHER LEAVES EVERLEIGH at her door, giving her time to prepare for the grand ball. She wants to look beautiful. She wants Archer to think she’s beautiful.
Lanorie isn’t preparing her bath; instead it’s Addyson’s maid.
“Where’s Lanorie?” Everleigh hasn’t seen her for ages; she wants to tell her all about the storm and Archer and their kisses.
“She’s not well. Cook told me to tell you not to worry. She’s fine but needs rest.”
Poor Lanorie. Everleigh thinks she will visit with her in the morning.
Addyson’s maid straightens from adding petals to the bath. “What are you wearing, princess?”
Everleigh shrugs. She has no clue. She has hundreds of beautiful gowns, but she wants to look more than beautiful. She wants to impress Archer. Everyone thinks this ball is part of saying goodbye to her, but she wants to celebrate saying hello to her future.
She relaxes into the hot perfumed water, and lets Addyson’s maid wash her hair and brush it out. Then while she goes to choose a dress, Everleigh looks at one of the petals in her bath, stares at it intently. Silently she tells it to move, and it scoots through the water at her command. She laughs and looks around the room for more things to move. She looks at the goblet next to her bed. With a definite command and a flick of her head, it rocks and then falls on to the floor.
Addyson’s maid jumps and Everleigh closes her eyes to stop herself from laughing.
Keeping them closed, she thinks about Archer, her powers, her life. Everything has changed so quickly.
She has never been in love before but has read enough books about it and listened to enough songs about it to recognise it. She is falling in love for the first time. It’s wonderful. She knows tonight will be a magical evening and she can’t wait to see him again.
Addyson’s maid dries her hair in front of the fire and then twists and turns it into a pile of tumbling curls on top of her head, adorned with light pink feathers and tiny sparkling gems. She tightly laces her into a corset and then slips a pale pink, full skirted dress over her head. Everleigh wasn’t sure when she suggested it, but it is beautiful. It swishes and shimmers as she moves and the colour is so pretty.
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