The Kingmaker Prophecy

by Gemma Perfect

  They settle in front of a fire in the teacher’s work room and Ofia reaches out a hand to Halfreda. “Do you mind if I touch you? Just your face. See what I can gather?”

  Halfreda looks nervous and the teacher smiles. “Ofia has unmatched abilities, Halfreda. Let her guide you, if possible. She will see more than I can.”

  Halfreda shifts position so she is in front of Ofia. Ofia faces her and holds Halfreda’s face in her hands. Her hands are cool and dry, and Halfreda feels her eyes closing.

  “This one,” Ofia mutters, shaking her head, smiling with wonder almost. “This one is like none I have ever known. She sees spirits, she hears them. She knows things, feels things. She has much intuition and much power. The castle is the only place for her. The Kingmakers are a unique breed. You know it was magic that made them?”

  Halfreda opens her eyes and nods. “The teacher told me.”

  “He shares much with you.”

  “He was trying to convince me to go to the castle.”

  “And yet you don’t need convincing. I see it. You know where you belong.”

  Halfreda nods again. “I was reluctant. The sacrifice...it seems so...”

  “And yet, without the sacrifice the magic won’t work. I know what I’m doing, and the decision to use Kingmakers the way they are didn’t come lightly – it wasn’t simple or easy. Life isn’t simple or easy. This Realm will be around long after you and I are gone, and it has to be protected.”

  Halfreda nods, watching Ofia watching her. It feels uncomfortable to be scrutinised so closely, especially by someone more powerful than she is. The teacher described her as the greatest sorceress or some such thing. Why the interest in Halfreda?

  “Close your eyes again. Let me see...”

  Halfreda obeys and she can hear the teacher leave their side, and bustle around the room. She can hear him leafing through books, moving potions bottles, pouring something.

  She can feel Ofia’s hands getting hotter, warmth spreading from her touch to Halfreda’s skin. Not an unpleasant feeling, just a new sensation. She feels more than warmth...she feels tingles, she feels like Ofia is taking something from her, or giving something to her...not just observing which powers or abilities she possesses. The feeling is strange and disconcerting, Halfreda is too hot, she can feel herself getting faint. Then a rush of cold from Ofia’s skin to hers, so icy cold that Halfreda’s eyes shoot open. She can see the teacher busy, not paying them any attention, she can see the room around them in bright, sharp colour. She can see Ofia watching her so intently, her eyes staring, her pupils like pools of ink. Halfreda wants to move, to break the contact between them but she’s stuck. She tries to move, just the tiniest bit, not to escape but to show she can, but she cannot. She’s frozen.

  She feels panic bubble inside her – this doesn’t feel good, it doesn’t feel like Ofia wanting to see her gifts, it feels like she wants to possess her. She wants to scream, to move her head and shake away Ofia’s grip, but she can’t.

  Her breathing is getting faster, she’s almost panting, she does not like this, she wants to...

  It stops. Warmth floods her body, happiness and heat, a relaxing blend of contentment and calm. Ofia’s gaze focusses on her and her smile is beautiful. Her gaze is full of wonder and delight, and Halfreda forgets all of her discomfort and smiles back.

  “This one,” Ofia announces, standing up and moving to the teacher’s side. “She’s the one.”

  15

  The teacher tells Halfreda to find Nerida and Kinsey and enjoy the rest of the morning with them. She agrees, feeling full of happiness and lightness – almost running as she heads out of the round house looking for her friends. She finds them easily, knowing where they are and threading through the trees until she sees them.

  “Where have you been?”

  “With Ofia... and the teacher.”

  “Oh, you are the luckiest thing in the world. That lady is a Queen.”

  “Not really.”

  “You’re right. She’s better than a Queen she’s a...” Kinsey trails off, she cannot think of a better compliment for Ofia.

  “She is so wonderful,” Nerida says, looking forlorn for just a second. “Abe likes her.”

  Halfreda tuts. “Abe likes anyone. Me, you, her. Don’t fret about him.”

  “I’m not fretting, just wishing.”

  “Wishing?”

  “Wishing he liked me again.”

  Halfreda smiles. “He is the most handsome man.”

  “And Ofia is not interested in him at all. You can tell.”

  That was true, and Halfreda was glad it gave her friend some comfort.

  “I cannot believe you have agreed to go to the castle,” Nerida says, changing the subject.

  “I was always going to do what the teacher advised.”

  She knew it was true even as she said it. They were all here because they had put their trust in the teacher. Whether it was initially instigated by their parents didn’t matter. As soon as they met him, as soon as they moved to the round house, their fates were set. Whatever he said they should do, they would do. Why would they argue with him or ignore him? He has wisdom, knowledge, and understanding that they didn’t. Ignoring his guidance would make all the time they spent with him, all the work they did with him pointless, worthless. None of them wanted that. They also all wanted to please him – they adored him and would do anything he said. They knew he would lead them the right way.

  “Killing people though?”

  Halfreda shrugs. “I don’t like that – I cannot imagine doing it. And yet, again, why would he steer me wrong?”

  Both Nerida and Kinsey are adamant. “He would not.”

  And so that was settled.

  The three of them lie down on the soft grass, eyes closed, listening to the sounds of nature going on around them. A cricket, a bird, a wolf howling.

  Halfreda sits up. “Did you hear that?’

  Nerida opens her eyes but doesn’t move. “What?’

  “A wolf?”

  Kinsey sits up. “No. I didn’t.”

  “Me neither.”

  Halfreda shakes her head and lies down again. She definitely heard a wolf – no doubt. She drifts off again, happy to be with her friends, happy she’s made the decision to go to the castle. It could be months or years before the wise woman dies. She could live with the teacher for many many moons before she is called upon to make her first sacrifice. And she hopes that’s how her future plays out. Making the decision to do something and then actually doing it can be very far apart.

  Knowing she will live at the castle, look after the King, tend to him and his family, kill Kingmakers, is very different to feeling the weight of a knife or dagger in her hands, holding the shoulder of a young princess – only seventeen years old – and pushing the blade into soft, innocent skin. Will she be able to do it when the time comes? Even though her teacher and Ofia say it’s her destiny?

  She hopes so. Her choice is made. She would never let him down – not for anything.

  She is drifting between awake and asleep, that wonderful place where your body seems weightless, and although you’re aware of the world around you, you can actually feel yourself slipping away, off the edge and gone. She hears the wolf again and wants to find it. Asleep or awake, she’s not sure. She knows no one else hears it and she keeps really still. She will know where the wolf is, in the same way she knew where her friends where. It’s one of her uncanny abilities – just knowing stuff, not always useful stuff but it’s an ability she takes for granted.

  The wolf, she can see it now in her mind, is beautiful. Soft and grey but fierce. It is stalking around the outside of the round house, walking in circles prowling, lithe and lurking. She watches it. She watches it stop and howl, head back, mouth wide, teeth glistening, saliva dripping. It could kill her in a heartbeat but she knows she must not fear it. It wishes her no harm.

  She is getting hotter, still on the floor, still half asleep and half awake. As s
he starts to writhe and thrash, Nerida and Kinsey watch her with alarm. “Run to the house. Get the teacher.”

  Kinsey does as she’s told, sprinting to get help. They know what’s happening – she having a fit of some kind, maybe a vision, maybe something else, something darker.

  The teacher, Abe and Ofia arrive in a breathless huddle and stop at Halfreda’s feet. She is still on the floor, hands gesticulating madly, eyes open but unseeing.

  She starts to talk, mutter, laugh, all incomprehensible. Then she sits, then she stands – a strange fluid motion, like a puppet being pulled up by strings; her body seems to have no bones.

  She flings open her arms, unsteady but not falling. Her voice is not her own as she begins to speak:

  “One Kingmaker will have more magic than most.

  “She is unique.

  “She is special.

  “She will live.

  “She will rule.

  “This Kingmaker will change history and rule the Realm as the finest ruler we have ever had.

  “She will be found by the simplest of all tests.

  “Only a King can command nature.

  “The Kingmaker who lives will be able to do the same.

  “Then we will all bow down our heads, lay down our weapons, and kneel before the Queen of the Realm.

  “May the gods bless her and keep her.”

  At the last word she drops on the floor, a rag doll, eyes closed, mouth slack. Nerida and Kinsey sit in shocked silence, each taking one of her hands, each only looking at the other, worried looks exchanged but no words.

  The teacher steps away from Halfreda, after checking she is alive and uninjured. “I have no words.”

  Abe shakes her head. “Did she just...” His voice trails off. None of them can believe what they just saw, what Halfreda just said. A prophecy or a fantasy? They will only know if it ever comes to pass.

  They are interrupted by a rush of horse’s hooves. A young page in livery stops before them. “The wise woman is dead. The King commands you bring her replacement at once.”

  They look at Halfreda in a heap on the floor, having just announced that at some point in the future one of the Kingmakers will live. She will not die. She will not be sacrificed. Instead she will rule as the greatest Queen the Realm has ever known.

  The page takes their shock and silence as grief for the wise woman, and tells them that the King expects the replacement in less than three sleeps. Then he nods and rides away.

  Halfreda groans and sits up, rubbing at her head. She takes in the situation quickly – her friends holding her hands, the shocked looks on the faces that surround her. “Did I...”

  The teacher nods. “Yes, you had a vision. Nothing interesting. And we’ve had a rider – the wise woman is dead. The King is expecting you.”

  Nerida and Kinsey cannot hide their shock. Nothing interesting. Halfreda’s vision was very interesting – they can’t wait to tell her.

  The teacher leans in close to Ofia. “She cannot know this. I need to think. Take the girls and take the memory from them. We’ll talk later.”

  “Why not tell her?”

  He shakes his head. “I am not even sure of it. When she had the vision of Zanna’s death she blamed herself completely when it came to pass. She was sure she cursed the girl. I just feel this will be the same. I may be wrong. I cannot think. I need time. Take the girls. Abe and I will take Halfreda. Actually, I will take Halfreda – you need to take care of Abe as well.”

  “Take care of me?”

  “A stiff drink to take away the shock. It’s never pleasant seeing anyone in that state – even if you’ve been there yourself. Besides, the girls are scared. Help Ofia, Abe.”

  Abe doesn’t need telling twice to spend time with Ofia, and so he slips an arm around Nerida, while Ofia supports Kinsey. They look almost demented with excitement at what they’ve seen and what they need to tell Halfreda.

  The teacher takes Halfreda and watches Ofia take the others to his work room. He will ask Menna for a sweet drink, and he will give Halfreda a potion – a tonic – to lift her up. He cannot say why but he feels very sure, very clear, that she should not know the contents of the prophecy – the vision she just had. The words she said, if they come true, will change everything. He needs time to think. Time to process. And he is happy that only Ofia and himself know the true nature of what was said.

  He tucks Halfreda into a chair, places a blanket over her and tells her to rest while he fetches a tonic.

  Inside his work room, Ofia has lit candles. Abe, Nerida and Kinsey are sitting on the floor, eyes closed.

  “Am I wrong, here, Ofia?’

  She shrugs. “I am unsure. This is unprecedented.”

  “I just have the strongest feeling that we need to protect her from this. If she is to go to the castle, if she is to work with the Kingmakers, keeping them calm, making the sacrifices, she has to know that one will live, but she cannot know that the prophecy came from her.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because she will feel responsible? Really Ofia – I have no idea what to do with this.”

  “She will know about the prophecy?”

  “Yes. She will have to test each Kingmaker. What did she say about nature?”

  “That a true King can command nature and the Kingmaker who lives will be the same. We should tell her, we should-”

  “No!” His voice is sharp. “Sorry Ofia. Just sort these three out for me. Give me time to think.”

  She nods. “You need to leave. Or your memory will be taken too.”

  He nods. “I will take a tonic for Halfreda, she looks washed out. She will probably sleep now.”

  “It will do her good.”

  The teacher kisses Ofia on each cheek and leaves her alone with the three charges. She will strip their memory, using her powers, and then he can decide what to do.

  He feels as though Halfreda will blame herself for each Kingmaker’s death if she knows the prophecy came from her. She will have to know who the chosen one is, but, if she has to give each one who comes before her false hope, it will eat her up. He is sure she needs to be kept in the dark about it.

  He takes Halfreda the potion and a drink from Menna, and strokes her hair until she falls asleep. Ofia comes to his side. “It is done. They will remember nothing. How long will this thing take to pass? What if Halfreda is dead and gone before then?”

  “Does that even matter? Ofia, I have never been so scrambled in my thinking as I am here. A prophecy that tells of a Kingmaker who lives. Who rules! The Kingmakers come from your magic. Is this right? Should we forget about it, or do we tell Halfreda?”

  “I think it is meant to be. I feel it quite strongly.”

  “Then I bow to your wisdom in this. We will get her to the castle and, before I leave her to her future there, I will explain about the prophecy – just not from whence it came.”

  Ofia nods and takes his hand. “You have had some wonderfully talented charges over the years, but this one really is unique. She will change everything.”

  16

  Halfreda wakes up in the chair, sees the flames burning brightly in the fire, and the teacher hunched in front of it.

  He senses her waking and turns to greet her. He smiles but appears weary. “How do you feel, Halfreda? Do you remember anything of your vision?”

  She shakes her head. “No. Did I say anything interesting? Did I curse anyone to death?”

  He smiles, although it doesn’t reach his eyes. “Stop it. You know Zanna’s death was not your doing. You said nothing of interest this time. Only incoherent and foreign mutterings. Did you hurt your head?”

  “I don’t think so. I am sore.”

  “No wonder, you dropped to the floor afterwards.”

  “Am I right in saying that Marby has died? Or did I dream that?”

  “No, you are right. The King has commanded our presence.”

  “How does he know about...” Halfreda trails of at the look on the teacher’
s face. “You told him about me?”

  “Of course. It has been a worry for him.”

  Halfreda nods. “I’m scared.”

  “Of course you are, dear girl. I am scared to take you, to leave you there. I thought we had more time.”

  “Will you leave me straight away?” She looks panicked.

  “No, I will stay with you, ensure that you are settled, go through all your duties – there is much to do when we get there. Tomorrow we will have a party, a fond farewell to you, and we will leave the next morning.”

  “And Nerida and Kinsey?”

  “Their future is not with you, Halfreda. You know that as do they. They have futures ahead of them, that while they are not so grand or important as what you will do, are theirs alone. I know you will miss them, so find them now. Talk and laugh while you can. There is serious business ahead, and I do not just mean your role in the Kingmakers sacrifices, but the work at the castle – keeping the King safe is the most important thing.”

  “I’m not ready,” her voice is just a whisper and she’s crying. The teacher folds her into a hug. “You are ready and although the time is now, and it has made the move sooner, I would not let you go if you weren’t ready. I would not put you through something you couldn’t face, and I would not stand you for a role you weren’t prepared for. All is well. Go. Go to your friends and we can talk again later.”

  With some relief and some trepidation, Halfreda leaves the teacher’s side and heads to her friends. She knows where they are already. She does not feel ready for the next stage of her life, the next step on the journey forward. She wants to stay here, stay a child – growing older, but with someone else in charge, telling her what to do and making decisions for her. At the round house everything is taken care of; she does not even have to choose what meal to eat. How will she keep the King safe, tell people what to do, kill the Kingmakers? It is the part she fears the most, and yet she has the strongest feeling that her future lies at the castle. The teacher would not lead her the wrong way.

  Nerida and Kinsey are sitting on the grass, near the kitchens, a small pile of cakes between them and some ale. She takes a seat and a cake and smiles at her friends. They smile back but seem unconcerned about her earlier vision. She frowns. “I am well, thank you for asking.”