As she turns her back on Zanna, Halfreda hears her run at her, feels her hands push at her back probably a split-second before Zanna even touches her.
Halfreda stumbles to the floor, cracking her head on a rock, feeling a dizzying numbness steal across her body. She sees Zanna stand over her, sees her lips move, but cannot hear what she is saying. The sounds she is making have joined the fuzz of noise that is filling her head. A cloud of sound, making her head ache and her eyes roll back.
Zanna lifts a rock, holds it above Halfreda’s head, pondering her decision. She knows no one is around to witness this; she could do what her anger is asking her to do and nobody would know.
She lifts her arm, the rock heavy in her hand. She lets out a low scream of hatred as she throws it at Halfreda’s head.
9
The rock flies, not far to travel to reach the desired target, but luckily for one, unluckily for the other, Kinsey and Nerida had followed Zanna down to the river. Kinsey shoves Halfreda away so that the rock bounces benignly on the grass where her head would have been, and Nerida grabs hold of Zanna from behind, closing her arms tightly around her, binding her.
“Kinsey. Run back. Get the teacher!”
Leaving Halfreda safe but confused on the floor, Kinsey runs. Nerida struggles to keep hold of Zanna. Screaming, Zanna cracks her head backwards violently, breaking Nerida’s nose and tearing herself free.
Zanna launches for Halfreda again as an arrow whistles through the air and pierces the delicate skin at the base of her neck. She drops to the floor, blood geysering out of the wound, harmless.
Nerida is crying, holding onto her gushing nose. Halfreda, in a state of shock, is sitting with an arm around her. Mal’s arm drops to his side, bow spent. Menna pats his back and the teacher kneels beside Zanna. “She’s dead.”
Mal lets out a shout of regret and Menna leads him away.
Halfreda cries, heavy sobs making her shoulders shake. The teacher helps Nerida to her feet. Kinsey takes Halfreda’s arm but she shakes her off.
She knows it is her fault – triple told – that Zanna is dead.
She set the demon spirit after her, saw her death in a vision, and then had this awful encounter that resulted in her death.
Mal comes back to the group and drops down next to Zanna. He gathers her in his arms and turns back to the round house. They all follow, except for Halfreda.
As quickly as she can, she runs in the opposite direction.
There is nobody to chase after her, and she runs through the woods until she is spent. Using all her mental strength, she pushes her thoughts, words, ideas, feelings, tears, emotions away. She fills her head with calm, with quiet, with nothingness, silently repeating the words: leave me alone, leave me alone, leave me alone.
She lays on the floor, in the shade of a tree, and draws a protective shield around herself. She imagines she is invisible. She focuses on being silent and unobtrusive. She slows her breathing right down until her chest is barely moving, and concentrates on keeping completely still.
What she is unaware of is the extent of power that her conscious mind yields; while she is there in body and mind, she is also not there. Anyone walking past would trip over her, an animal would walk past her without concern. A bird might land on her arm believing she was part of the woods, and not a person at all.
She opens a small window in the centre of her mind and allows thoughts to slowly come back to her, sounds from around her to slowly come back to her, and she listens carefully as she lies so still that she melds into the floor.
She isn’t stupid, though she can be irrational. She could be wise if she wasn’t impulsive, and she could be the wielder of great power if she slowed down and allowed the teacher to guide her. She also has an intuition about her magic that most would envy. When she called the demon to attack Zanna, she had no guide or real idea of what she should do or say or will but she made it happen.
This is the same. She doesn’t know if anyone else can do what she does, she has never asked, but she knows that she has ‘hidden’ in the main room of the house she shared with her parents, and they never once knew that she was there.
Her powers are a part of her and, when she’s not fighting against them, they work for her and are as natural as breathing.
She closes her mind to her tumble of emotions about Zanna and allows logical thoughts to enter only; almost as though she is giving someone else advice other than herself. Zanna being dead, Halfreda’s vision of her death, are unfortunate events, but not her fault, not her doing, not really. She knows the truth of that, when she’s lying so calm and quiet, so still and relaxed.
Cultivating that calmness is something she needs to do. Her gifts will always be hampered if she cannot control her emotions.
She can hear feet running and voices calling her name. She closes her mind again, curling her body inwards, closing off her thoughts and slowing her breathing.
She is unaware of how close Kinsey stands to her and Kinsey is equally unaware of Halfreda, almost tripping over her feet as she continues through the woods calling for her.
When Halfreda opens her mind up again and moves her body, it is dark. She has no way of knowing how long she has been so still for, but her clothes are damp and the air is cold.
She sits up, tucking her knees into her chest, cradling them. Was she stupid to run away? Shouldn’t she just go back to the round house? To Nerida – to see if her nose is alright. To ask Mal if he’s alright after killing Zanna. To spend time with her new friends, who she has known for such a short time, but already feel woven into the fabric of her life in the most important of ways.
She should.
But something is stopping her.
She closes her eyes, listening to her body and mind, tuning in to the feeling in her gut. She would be welcome back at the round house, everyone is worrying about her, but no harm will come to her here. She isn’t in danger.
Opening her eyes, she decides to walk through to the edge of the woods, down to the river, circling back around to the round house from the other direction. It will give her time by herself, but ensure she’s home early enough that nobody will worry too much.
She closes her eyes once more, picturing the teacher. He is small, and though he is half the size of a man, he is full of wisdom, kindness and courage. Unusually, she cannot think of one negative quality about him. She smiles to herself. He must have one, and yet she cannot see it. Not that she wants to find bad things about anybody, but most people are a balance of all things. He is not.
She sends a message to him, unsure if he will receive it but willing it to him. She pictures him, in the round house, what he might be doing, who he is with, what he was wearing and she imagines her message, a thought given wings, like a bird or a butterfly, winging its way to the teacher, and reassuring him that she is safe and will be home soon.
In her mind, she pictures him smiling, nodding as he hears the message, the frown of concern smoothing off his face. He laughs a little louder, chats a little easier and she, too, is smiling as she heads off on the long walk home.
10
Still waiting for Halfreda to return home, but sure she is safe and on her way, the teacher greets the newest visitor to the round house with a smile and a pat on the back. This visitor is no stranger, but an old friend.
“Abe!” The teacher’s voice expresses his delight. They laugh and hug, grin and slap each other on the back. “Come in, come in, we are just about to eat.”
“I always had good timing.”
“You never did! You are late for everything, if you bother to turn up at all.”
“I have never missed a meal, however.”
“At one table or another. Oh, I am pleased to see you, beyond belief. We have had an unhappy day and we need cheering up. Stories from your travels or news of the Realm.”
Abe nods, glancing around at the sombre faces: anguish etched onto Mal’s face, despite Menna reassuring him that Zanna’s death was foretold an
d not his fault. Nerida looks awful with a broken nose and two black eyes. Misery tugs down the corners of her mouth when she thinks about Halfreda and what trouble she might be in.
Abe sits down amongst them and works his own peculiar brand of magic. Without knowing why or how, the group feels instantly lighter, burdens lessening, smiles widening.
Abe is one of those funny creatures – never stopping anywhere too long, but making friends everywhere he goes. In his company for the merest of minutes, people feel as though they have known him a lifetime. He’s easy company, always affable, and has a canny ability to leave before he ever outstays his welcome.
He fills their ears with tales – most exaggerated but all of them rooted in truth. He tells of the castle, the King, the court. He tells of his travels – the trouble he gets into and the trouble he causes.
By the time Halfreda walks through the door and joins the throng of people around the fire, he has everyone laughing, feeling that glow you feel when life is good. You can’t always pinpoint exactly why or put your finger on the reason – if you could you would feel wonderful every day – but you feel almost magical; flooded with a serene happiness.
The silence is heavy as everyone turns to look at her; pretty, dejected, sorrow etched on her features. The teacher stands first and hugs her, whispering in her ear. “Thank you for your message. Is that a new one?”
Halfreda nods. She has often thought about people and wished they knew something she knew, but she has never tried to send a direct message with her thoughts before. To know it worked gives her a thrill – of excitement and fear.
Halfreda finds Mal in the crowd and shakes her head when she sees the upset on his face. “I’m so sorry, Mal.”
Menna stops her, putting a hand up. “Please, Halfreda, I have explained to Mal what I heard and witnessed from you last night. He knows he bears no fault in this.”
Halfreda nods, accepting the admonishment – however slight – from Menna. Menna is worrying about her husband and not about the foolish concerns of a young girl. Halfreda accepts that.
Her eyes come to rest on Nerida and Kinsey, sitting together, both looking as miserable as she feels. They all rush together in a bundle of skirts, arms and tears.
Nerida pulls back, the pain from her nose causing her to wince.
“Halfreda.” The teacher gestures for her to sit and she does. “We are all glad you came back and that you’re alright. We also understand your need for solitude this afternoon – Mal had that same need; we all have it sometimes. Let’s not speak of it any more, at least for this evening. I would like to introduce you to a new face at our hearth tonight. Halfreda, this is an old, dear, friend of mine, Abe. Abe, this is one of my newest charges – and I mean no disrespect to my other charges present or past, when I say she has the most exceptional gifts that I have seen in one so young.”
“How old are you?” Abe takes Halfreda’s hand and shakes it, closing his eyes as his skin meets hers. Halfreda pulls her hand back, feeling a strange tingle settle across her fingers.
“I will be twenty next month.”
Abe nods at her, rubbing at his palm, as though touching Halfreda has left a mark.
The teacher watches their interaction with interest. “Abe was just telling us about the trouble he’s been causing in the Realm. Would you like something to eat, Halfreda?”
Halfreda nods and absentmindedly takes the bread and soup that Menna passes her, unable to take her eyes off the stranger at their table.
She eats her food, letting Abe’s lively stories and mesmerising voice take her away from seeing Zanna’s dead body, over and over, in her mind.
By the time the candles gutter out, most of the company have headed for their beds. Kinsey and Nerida, after whispered conversations with Halfreda, slipped off with it unsaid, but understood, that Kinsey would be sleeping in their room from now on.
The teacher lights a fresh candle, the flickering light dancing across Abe’s face, and landing on Halfreda.
“I am glad you came today, Abe. It’s almost as if you knew.”
“I did know. I always know that you’ll be pleased to see me. Though I am only being facetious of course, I see that it’s more than that tonight.”
“Halfreda has visions, Abe.”
Abe nods and turns to Halfreda, the interest evident in his eyes. “I do too.”
“Really?”
“Yes. Not always, but ever since I suffered an accident. I took a tumble off my horse three years ago – cracked my head and broke my arm. I’ve not been the same since.”
“He’s got that right!” The teacher gives him a playful shove and Abe laughs, good naturedly.
“Someone I will never forgive, pointed me in the teacher’s direction – and the rest, as they say, is history.”
The teacher is laughing as he answers. “Forgive them? You know it was the luckiest day of your life when you walked through my door for the first time.”
“Too true. I joke, but this man changed my life. And the visions, they don’t come so often now – barely at all.”
Halfreda looks up with interest, but the teacher shakes his head. “No, Halfreda. Abe’s visions have drastically reduced, but only because they came from some malfunction in his mind – yours are a gift, part of your make-up. Yours will never leave you. Although we can train them, and you, so that they don’t keep attacking you, like they currently do.”
She cannot help the tears that flood her eyes, and Abe is quick to put a consoling arm around her, ignoring the look of reproach the teacher gives him.
“Halfreda, I have known you only a few hours, but I can see from the way the teacher talks to you, as well as about you, how impressed he is with you. It’s high fortune to have him looking after you.”
“I understand my fortune in having him guide me, but it’s only because of my misfortune, in having my ‘gifts’ in the first place, that I need him.”
She continues to weep as the two men clear up around her. When the dishes are all gone, the candles are out except one, and a cup of ale is pushed into her hand, she finally wipes her eyes.
“Halfreda, go to sleep. The girls are probably up there waiting for you. I don’t need three tired charges tomorrow. Good night.”
The tone of his voice brokers no argument, and she knows better by now than to try.
He is right, as always, and Nerida and Kinsey rush to her side when she pushes open their bedroom door.
The room has been changed around slightly, now filled with three beds, three chests, and three crying girls.
“I can’t believe she’s dead.”
“I can’t believe she tried to kill you, Halfreda.”
“I had almost forgotten that. She hated me so much.”
“She hated everyone. Don’t take all the credit for her nastiness.”
“True.” Despite wanting to talk, and cry and take comfort from the girls, exhaustion takes over. “I need to sleep.”
“We all do.”
“Is Abe staying the night.”
“Abe? I have no idea...”
Nerida and Kinsey dissolve into giggles and Halfreda shakes her head. He had fascinated her, she couldn’t deny it, but she didn’t realise she had been so transparent. She’d have to be more subtle tomorrow.
11
Halfreda feels a beat of happiness when she sees Abe at the table the next morning. She feels an affinity with him, probably because of the visions he has experienced.
He smiles warmly at her as she takes a seat opposite him; she couldn’t sit close to him, and besides, she wants to watch him – subtly.
Nerida sits next to him, raising her eyebrows at Halfreda. Her eyes and nose look worse today. The bruises blackening even more, and the swelling making her look odd.
The teacher greets the group. “Yesterday was unpleasant. I have sent someone to inform Zanna’s family and we will wait to hear what they would like to do with her. Please don’t venture into the basement room; she is resting there.
Halfreda, I know you feel responsible, as do you Mal, but again, I urge you both to brush off those feelings. I know that sounds too easy, and callous almost, but I knew Zanna more than all of you. She was a difficult girl to please, a difficult girl to like. The way she attacked Halfreda, Mal had no choice but to stop her. Visions and prophecies aside, she had a choice. She chose to attack, even when Halfreda tried to apologise. I think we’ll leave it there. But let’s have a gentle day today, please. No drama.”
It sounds so easy when the teacher says it – brush off the feelings of guilt, have a gentle day, but Halfreda still feels sick when she pictures Zanna’s face. So clearly seeing the anger and hatred she felt.
Kinsey presses some bread into her hand. Halfreda nibbles on it, glad to have something to do.
Once again Abe has all eyes on him. The way he talks, using his hands to gesticulate, and the clever spark in his eyes, have many of the females around the table feeling coquettish. Halfreda watches him as he speaks. He is very handsome, but unusually so. His jaw is slightly too large for his face, his eyes a touch too small. She’s not sure whether the attraction she feels for him has more to do with his personality than the way he looks. He has a captivating way of commanding attention, and the mood does feel lighter for his being there.
The teacher doles out tasks and assignments as they eat; giving Nerida and Kinsey a list of ingredients to collect from the far side of the woods – away from where Zanna was killed.
Mal is to keep Menna company in the kitchen – the bread stocks are running low and batches need to be made, with maybe some fishing called for after lunch.
Halfreda, he takes to one side and tells her that she needs to have a restful day, a gentle day, but one where her mind is occupied; busy work, he calls it.
The Kingmaker Prophecy Page 5