The Kingmaker Prophecy

by Gemma Perfect

  He sits a package on the table. “This is a sleeping draught – enough for the week and the night of the sacrifice as well.

  “You still do not think she will live?”

  He shakes his head. “These are calming herbs, powdered, mixed and pressed. Take as many as you need. If you feel jitters, panic, sickness – or any negative feeling, chew one quickly.”

  Halfreda takes them from him and nods.

  “Are you ready for tomorrow? There will be many guests to watch both the new wise woman and the Kingmaker.”

  “Cook did enjoy telling me that she’s never seen so many visitors. What if I faint?”

  “You won’t. You drink this just before the ceremony.” He slides a tall, thin bottle towards her and she adds it to her arsenal.

  “I know she is more scared than I.”

  “True. Keep that at the fore front of your mind. If in doubt – chant. Most people have no idea what a wise woman does. Feel free to make it up, if needed.”

  Halfreda grins. “You aren’t being a very good teacher.”

  “I am. I am telling you that all will be well. Even if you go wrong no one will know it except you. And me.”

  She laughs. He pushes an assortment of bottles towards her. “They are all labelled and have instructions written on them. You will get through this week. I promise.”

  When he leaves her alone, after an hour or two of talking about anything but the feast, she is shaking. She roots through all the things he brought her and finds the tablets. She has been having nightmares followed by periods where she dares not fall asleep, and she knows the only way she will get through the day is with all the help the teacher has offered her.

  She lights a fire and calls fore the spirits. She asks them to look after her.

  She is sitting, ready to crunch down her tablets and her sleeping draught, but almost too tired to move, when there is a knock at the door.

  Reluctantly she opens the door to see the King, splendid in his ermine. She curtsies low. “I hope you do not mind me disturbing you?”

  She shakes her head no; what else can she do?

  “I will only be your King for one more week. I am sorry it was such a short time. You made me laugh – when we met, when I tested you. Nobody dares stand up to me.”

  She steps aside for him to come inside and he takes a seat. He gestures for her to sit as well, and she does as he bids. “I am here to wish you luck for tomorrow, the feast, as well as the coming week. I can’t imagine it’s easy for you. Isla is petrified, as you can imagine.”

  “What will you do, my King? You and the Queen?”

  “We will travel around the Realm.”

  “It’s a strange time for you as well as your family.”

  “If I could stop it I would. I will lose two sons and a daughter as well as my place at the head of the Realm.”

  He looks so sad, so full of heartache that Halfreda reaches for him, resting her fingers on his arm. She has a flash of a vision in that split-second and jumps back as though scalded. “Don’t do it!” Her voice is shrill, a shriek and the King looks alarmed and then guilty.

  “King. Do not do it. Your wife will need you with the death of so many of her children. If you throw yourself upon my dagger or your own she will wither with grief.”

  He shakes his head, unable to speak and defend himself. It is what he has been planning.

  “You must promise me. You must.”

  “How can I live with my grief?”

  “I will help you. The Queen will help you. Wounds heal, grief heals. But to choose death, when your children have no choice is selfish.”

  He is chastened and lowers his head, tears dropping onto his lap.

  Halfreda places a hand on his back, filling him with courage and strength, love and light. She watches as his shoulders lower, bit by bit, and the tears stop flowing.

  By the time the fire is dying down to embers, the King has gathered his emotions. He thanks Halfreda and once alone she drops to her knees. She cannot imagine the pain that is about to rip through this family. The King is her reminder to never be selfish. She may not like her role, but it was at least a role she had a choice in. The royal family have no choice, and she must keep that at the front of her mind in all that she does.

  She takes her medicine and adjourns to her bedroom. Within minutes she is asleep and when she wakes it is morning. The day of the feast. Soon she will give Isla the worst kind of false hope, because the teacher truly believes she is not the Kingmaker who will live.

  Halfreda wonders briefly if she will know her when she is born, when she first sets eyes upon her. She knows so much – she sees so much that normal people do not. Will she know this wondrous Kingmaker when she meets her, just hours old?

  She cannot worry now – it could be years and years ahead of her.

  The feast is hours away and so she decides to walk to the river. She is always at peace when she is near water. She likes to listen to it, watch the way it rushes and pools. It is soothing to most people, but to her it is part of her magic.

  Dressed warmly and with a basket of supplies – ale and food and her tablets from the teacher – she mooches away from the castle and the flurry of activity, so many people rushing around and getting ready for the feast.

  She takes her time, no need to rush and when she gets to the water’s edge she has been out of the castle for nearly an hour. She places her cloak on the floor and sits on it, watching the water stream past her.

  “Hello,” Isla says, coming to stand in front of Halfreda. “May I sit?”

  “Of course. You don’t need to ask my permission.”

  Isla sits. She is so pretty and composed, quite dainty really, and Halfreda sends warm wishes her way, willing them through the air. She sees Isla visibly relax and hopes her intentions reached the young Kingmaker. “I am glad you will be doing it, and not Marby. Marby has looked after me since I was a little girl. She brought me medicine when I was ill and taught me to make simple remedies to help my mother and father and brothers.”

  Halfreda lets her talk.

  “I hate being the Kingmaker. People don’t call me Isla they call me Kingmaker. Wherever I go there are calls and salutes as if I should be so proud and grateful of my fate. I am ready to die, just so I don’t have to hear that wretched word anymore.”

  Halfreda wells up. “What can I say or do? What will make it easier for you?”

  Isla shrugs. “I do not know. I rage against the cruelty of my life and then I have a period where I am settled and serene. Accepting. Then I rally again. It’s exhausting, really.”

  Halfreda can feel an echo of her own life in Isla’s words; she would rally against her magic, her life and then she might be more accepting for a time, but the anger would rise up again. She was sure it always would. She accepts her true self now, but it is not such a hardship as this young girl accepting what is to befall her.

  Death. On her birthday. Just seventeen for a few hours and then dead.

  Halfreda takes the Kingmaker in her arms and holds her, feeling her shoulder getting wetter and wetter as the young girl’s sobs turn to wails, turn to screams. Screams of rage, pity, fear and eventually giving in.

  How will she tell this girl she might live? She cannot. It would be unconscionable. She cannot raise her hopes when the teacher is so sure she will die.

  They spend an hour talking, eating and drinking – a strange sort of truce between executioner and victim, and Halfreda is glad that their paths crossed today. She hopes Isla feels comfort from it too.

  They walk back to the castle in a companionable silence.

  “I need to get ready for my feast,” Isla says when they reach the courtyard. She kisses Halfreda’s cheeks and Halfreda bows her head. “Isla, I need you to know, I am new to this role, I have never done what I need to do before and I never imagined I would. Whatever I have to say or do from now until the day, I hope you will forgive me.”

  “You are only doing your duty. Same as me.�
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  Halfreda is crying, silent tears stinging her cheeks, as she watches the Kingmaker walk away.

  23

  And so the week passes by. The Kingmaker’s feast, a spectacle the likes of which she has never seen before or even imagined. Then a meeting on the island, where Isla hoped, for a few minutes that she might live, when Halfreda knew she never would. Followed by a week of activities and festivities to distract everyone from the matter at hand – the imminent murder of a young girl and the death of two of her brothers.

  As the day of the sacrifice gets closer, Halfreda finds it increasingly hard to sleep or eat. She has to force herself to do both, as well as her duty to the King and his family. She still has a role within the castle, although the sacrifice is all that consumes her.

  And so it is the next day. She will kill the Kingmaker. She stands in front of her fire, tears streaming down her face, only one more night of impossible sleep to get through, if she never sleeps afterwards it will be what she deserves.

  She is moaning aloud, feeling rotten. Feeling cruel and duplicitous, treacherous. She has so many unkind words to aim at herself. Isla’s fate is cruel enough and now this stupid prophecy has added to it. One Kingmaker will be Queen and so dozens of others will have their hearts broken anew.

  She wants no part of it and yet she has no choice now that her fate is linked with this Kingmaker and each one until she finds the one who will live. And then she will die.

  She laughs then, a harsh sound. What a ridiculous situation she finds herself in, and the teacher made it sound so good. He was the root of all her troubles. She would find him, she would curse him, she would tell him what she thought of his wonderful idea that she would live at the castle, with no free will, kill lots of young girls and then die herself. She has exhausted herself and she sinks into a heap on the floor, fluctuating between tears of anger, self-pity and mirth.

  A knock at the door startles her and she pulls herself reluctantly to her feet. If it is the teacher she might knock him out. It’s not; it’s Nerida and Kinsey, looking hopeful but unsure and so familiar to Halfreda that she bursts into tears, pulling them close to her. “What are you doing here? Who brought you?”

  She knows they haven’t made this journey alone.

  “Ofia. She wants to see the teacher and she knew we were missing you. We miss you!”

  “Thank you. I thought you didn’t care. Before I left, you seemed...the teacher explained that you might have been accidently spelled by Ofia, but still I was just sad. I-”

  “We were spelled. It was three days until we realised you’d gone. Then we couldn’t stop crying. We were pretty hysterical, so Ofia got fed up with us and said she’d bring us for a very quick visit. It’s so good to see you.”

  “You look different – so grown up.”

  “I feel different. I feel exhausted. Oh, I’m so happy you are here. Come, look around.”

  Halfreda is filled with joy; this is exactly what she needs, and she wonders if Ofia needed to see the teacher or if the teacher needed to see Ofia. She feels like he might be behind this little reunion. She shows the girls her new home and they react exactly as she did: with squeals of excitement and sighs of awe. It is beautiful.

  “I’ll get the bath filled, and some food. You’ll sleep in here, with me?”

  The girls nod, happy to be back with their friend.

  Halfreda steps out to the courtyard, whistles for a little maid and gives her instructions. Her bed is big enough for all three, but they need drying cloaks. They have brought little bags with their own clothes in, but food, they need food and drink. She orders everything and then tops up the fire.

  The girls watch with delight as little maids troop into the rooms, filling a bath with the most fragrant oils – they cannot wait to sink into the heat, and they actually argue as to who will go first. Halfreda laughs. “Kinsey take the first turn today, Nerida you can go first tomorrow. How long are you staying?”

  “Only a day or two. To support you.”

  Halfreda crumbles again. “I need it. Thank you.”

  The two girls laugh when they hear Kinsey’s squeal of happiness as she sinks into the bath – a rare luxury for anyone, except the richest of people. “I’m never coming out!”

  “We wanted to be here for the feast, but Ofia thought it might be too much for you.”

  “It would have been. I’m struggling. I’m not much older than Isla. It doesn’t feel right.”

  “I don’t envy you.”

  “I don’t envy me.”

  They laugh at last and nibble on bread, meat and cakes until Kinsey joins them. Her cheeks are bright red from the heat of the bath and she is grinning. “This is the best day. That bath was wonderful, and this cloak is the comfiest thing I’ve ever worn. I’m going to ask the teacher if we can stay.”

  Nerida’s eyes light up. “Do you think he’d let us?”

  “There’s no way,” Halfreda says, passing Kinsey a drink. “I know he has plans for you – little villages for you to work in.” She opens her door and beckons for a little maid to empty and refill the bath for Nerida.

  “Little villages!” Kinsey snorts, as Halfreda takes a seat. “And you get the whole Realm.”

  “I’d swap with you if I could. It’s what I always thought I’d do – work in the village I grew up in, potter around, making potions and poultices. I never imagined I’d be living here, due to kill someone.”

  “Are you scared?”

  “Petrified.”

  “Right, well we need to take your mind off it. That’s why we’re here; not to make you feel worse.”

  “I have no idea what will help. It has been the most awful week, the feast was awful and, oh, there’s a prophecy-”

  “Tell us everything.”

  Halfreda nods, then smiles. “I wonder if I can show you. Hold my hands.”

  The girls do as they are told and take a hand each. Halfreda closes her eyes, reimagining the feast, the sights, colours, smells. She can almost feel herself rushing back in time, to the feast and then to the river, showing her friends all that she has said and done.

  They see hundreds of guests crammed into the great hall and the wonderful food. They hear the musicians and watch everyone dance. They watch Halfreda talk Isla and her brothers through the ceremony, and whisper for Isla to meet her at the river. They come back to the room, all feeling odd. “Did it work?”

  Kinsey looks strange, her eyes still faraway. “Oh, it worked, I have never seen such a beautiful sight as that feast. Poor Isla, and her brothers – so handsome.”

  “I hate the teacher so much for putting me in this position, but I feel so much better that you two are here.”

  She breaks off and laughs. “I hate the teacher! How does he always get it right? I do feel better. So much better for seeing you. I was sitting here, slumped on the floor, torn between crying and laughing when you arrived. I bet the teacher got in contact with Ofia. It must have been his idea – and it was a good one. Just seeing you makes me feel better. Knowing I have friends; I’m not just a murderer.”

  “Killing Kingmakers doesn’t make you a murderer – it’s what you’re supposed to do. Killing innocents for no reason makes you a murderer. You aren’t one and never will be.”

  “I hope you’re right. I know I’m meant to be here; I do trust the teacher, but I am so scared. More scared than I have ever been.”

  “I think that’s normal.” Nerida touches Halfreda’s shoulder and Kinsey laughs. “You might be the greatest witch he’s ever met but you’re just like the rest of us really!”

  24

  Waking up in the same room as her friends, all snuggled in the one huge bed, feels to Halfreda as though she is back in the round house. She can almost see Mal and Menna dishing up breakfast, and she feels so happy that her friends are with her. It’s just what she needs to get through the day.

  Only a few hours to pass until she sacrifices Isla.

  She slips out of bed, leaving her frie
nds to sleep, and steps out into the courtyard. Already it is full of bustle. She lets her gaze pass over the crowd. There is no ill will here, nothing she needs to worry about, except for her part of the sacrifice.

  She spots Isla ducking out of the castle and heading to the woods; she doesn’t follow her, but she sends her as many happy thoughts as she can.

  She sees the teacher and calls him. “If I am the greatest witch that ever served here, why can’t I do something? Why can’t I rescue Isla?”

  “You are the greatest witch and I think the prophecy came about because of you. You will find the first Queen and you will look after her. There is a great honour in that.

  “I saw Isla just now, heading to the woods.”

  “I do feel for her. And for you. I trust it was a nice surprise seeing your friends?”

  “It was. Of course. And I thank you but how can I get through this day, and many more just like it?”

  “Halfreda, you have to. With the next Kingmaker, she will have been in your life since she was born. You will have watched her grow into a young lady with so much ahead of her, were it not for the curse of the Kingmaker. Please, do not tremble now. Do not falter. Work with conviction, you are doing only what you must. You must.”

  “Will you be there?”

  “Right by your side.”

  The teacher takes her in his arms, giving her comfort but also magically transfusing her with all she needs to get through the day.

  “You should stay out of sight until it’s time. The girls will keep you company. A page will knock for you. Can you remember everything I showed you?”

  During the week, when everyone was enjoying a hunt, followed by a picnic by the river, the teacher had gone through the whole ceremony with Halfreda. By then the dais and seating area had been set up outside and she could picture the whole thing in her mind, unfolding.

  And now the time is almost upon her.

  Nerida and Kinsey are warming themselves in front of the fire when she goes back inside. Their faces are grim, mirroring the way she is feeling.