Lanorie stands stock still, but they each grab an arm and start running.
Ginata
I HAVE PACED MY ROOM until I fear I will wear a groove into the floor. I cannot stay here. I am just waiting for Millard. Either furious that Everleigh’s managed to get one over on him or gleeful that she’s failed somehow. I cannot bear either of those men tonight and so after checking I am not being followed I flee to the cottages.
Everyone there is as anxious as I am, but there is something good in sharing those anxieties together. Upsets are always worse when we are alone, after all.
Della is fussing over us all, but mostly Addyson. Finn is pacing. Everleigh is sitting with her knees drawn up, watching the door obsessively. I bite my nails – a new habit, a grubby one. We all have our ways of dealing with stress.
I feel good about this rescue attempt, though. Ceryn is an angry young woman, but a fighter through and through. Weaver is one of the easiest going souls I’ve ever encountered but I can tell he’s a fighter too. I think they’ll do it.
We hear Lanorie before we see her; loud protests that her feet hurt, her arms hurt from them pulling her, she’s too tired to go one more step, she’s too hungry to move.
Everleigh jumps up, laughing with delight at the grumpy moaning from her handmaiden. She opens the door and runs along the path, catching Lanorie as she collapses into her arms, both crying. “Oh, Everleigh. Thank you, thank you, thank you.”
I find myself wiping a little tear away too. It feels better with all of us being safe. Though I know the fury this will awaken in our new King. I’m not looking forward to seeing him later.
“Thank them. Not me.”
Lanorie doesn’t move from Everleigh’s side though, her tears soaking her dress. Ceryn rolls her eyes and strides over to Addyson, ruffling her hair. Weaver collapses onto the grass, a groan rushing out of him.
“Was it awful?” Addyson asks them both.
“The worst bit,” Ceryn says, gesturing at Lanorie, “was getting this moany lump away from the castle before Millard’s hounds came looking for us.”
I cannot help the burst of laughter that rushes out of my mouth and I laugh harder when Lanorie shoots me a furious look, a look full of anger and then a split second later pitiful misery. She is crying again, and I stifle my laugh when Everleigh looks at me, a reproachful look on her lovely face. She knows this girl’s flaws well enough but loves her regardless.
I feel almost lightheaded; the fear that Millard would find Addyson gone and take my life because of my part in it, is over. While Lanorie was locked away I knew that Millard could find his sister missing any second and I would get the blame and the punishment. Now Lanorie is safe, so are we all, to an extent.
The silliness spreads through me and I scoop Lanorie into a big cuddle, kissing her hair and then making a face at the smell of her.
“A clean up?” Della asks, ever the mother.
I nod and am laughing again. Everleigh taps my arm. “Are you quite alright?”
I sober up as Della tucks her arm around Lanorie and takes her through to her cottage with Addyson tagging along behind them. Della will heat up some water and clean her up, dress her in clean clothes; she is wearing Addyson’s beautiful dress now and it’s scruffy and dirty. Her hair needs washing and brushing out; it’s full of knots.
“I’m good. I just don’t think I realised how scared I’ve been of your brother finding Addyson missing and killing me. I think it just hit me.”
Everleigh nods and I think about Saturday. Making her Queen, betraying my King; a sudden and unbidden jolt of guilt hits me and I shake my head, literally shaking it off. I am happy and ready to do it, and I’m not doing anything wrong, not really. Only a few more days of pretending that I admire and serve him and then we’ll all be free.
I smile as I think about how giddy I’ll feel then. How much lighter we will all feel when this is over.
Ceryn and Weaver give us a rundown of the great rescue, and it hits me again how furious Millard will be when I see him later.
I decide to stay here as long as I can, enjoying the talking, the laughing, the moaning – off Lanorie – and the camaraderie of it all. I will put off meeting my King for as long as I can.
20
GINATA EVENTUALLY LEAVES the warm friendliness of her cottage and heads back to the castle. She is nervous and walks slowly, wondering how Millard will be, will he be sad and hard done by or will he be icily furious or maybe unhinged, axe swinging?
She has no way of knowing and the closer she gets to the castle, her current home, the bigger her urge is to run away. Why did she have to get caught up in all this drama? Damn Macsen, Everleigh’s dead brother. He was the one who got her roped into this when he came to her door looking for a death draught.
She keeps her head down as she walks to her rooms. Maybe she will have some peace, maybe she won’t see Millard until later, at supper. Maybe he doesn’t even know yet.
Turning the handle and pushing her door open, she feels her knees buckle and the blood drain from her face; Millard is standing there and she can feel the icy fury from across the room. She steadies her legs, hidden under her long skirt, and smiles widely at him before bowing low. She closes her eyes and in that brief second instils calmness into her mind.
“My King.” She is pleased not to hear even a slight tremble to her words.
“Addyson’s gone.” His voice is harsh, but not accusing, which can only be a good thing.
“Gone where?” Feigning innocence is the only answer.
“My two guards were attacked and left for dead. She’s gone.”
Ginata closes her eyes. “She is alive,” she says, trying to sound mystical.
“I don’t care if she’s alive or dead. I just need to know where she is and who took her. Who helped her? Who helped my sister. Who is in cahoots with her?”
She shrugs and makes her face show concern and finds that she feels a tiny bit sorry for him. In his head, he’s a good King, who only killed his brother to stop himself being killed, only killed Halfreda because she defended his sister, only killed Archer because he fought him. In his head, he is hard done by and she can see all that from the expression on his face; he doesn’t hide his emotions very well. A little bit of her wants to pat his cheek, tell him it will all be fine, if only everyone would stop being so mean to him.
“My King, if I knew, I would absolutely help you. You know I would.”
“No one is helping me. Wolf is useless; he has searched the castle and beyond but cannot find her. Brett has been gone all morning. Everleigh’s handmaiden’s still missing as well. I am watching the stupid fool but all he does is prance around the castle looking like a bigger idiot than he is. You are no help. You see nothing. You know nothing. And now Addyson is gone. I am King. Why won’t anybody help me!”
“My King, I would if I could. I promise.”
She keeps her face contrite, focussing on his eyes, full of unshed tears, a tremble to his full lips.
He slams his hand on the table and she flinches, and then turns away from him when she hears high-pitched screaming from the corridor.
Wolf is marching ahead of Cook, who is being man-handled by two of Millard’s men. She is crying and struggling to get their hands off her. “Please, please, please.” Her voice is pitiful as she pleads with her new King, who has a nasty smile playing on his lips.
Ginata roots her feet to the floor but comments, as sarcastically as she dares: “That’s a lot of force for one old lady.”
“True, too true, my wise woman.” Millard’s voice is dripping with sarcasm; he has no need to hide his true feelings, really; as King, he can say and do as he pleases. “But this old woman is a deceitful bint who has been helping my sister.”
“What?” Ginata’s voice is full of shock, but then she realises their mistake; they disguised Ceryn as a handmaiden and she took food up for ‘Addyson’ and so Millard knows that Cook was in on the escape plan. Nothing would get out of her k
itchen without her having full knowledge.
And it was Will who took Ceryn and Weaver to the kitchen. And as she looks at Cook, Ginata can see that it won’t take too much for the poor old woman to spill her secrets; she looks ready to faint or have a heart attack. Ginata’s eyes fill with tears but she cannot show sympathy for her no matter how much she feels it.
The two guards roughly let go of Cook; pushing her towards Millard. He scoffs at her tears. “Cook. I cannot understand why you, who have known me since I was a babe in arms, would do this to me.”
“Please. I have done nothing. Nothing.”
“You liar.” He steps towards her and raises his arm to hit her.
“My King.” Ginata cannot hold her tongue but bows her head to show respect to this crazy man. “She is old. You don’t have to hit her to get her to speak. She will speak.”
Ginata knows there is no way to save Will now. Cook will speak his name to save her own skin. No one would expect anything more from her. She isn’t one of them; she isn’t part of the group of individuals who have decided to help Everleigh. But she has helped and Ginata wishes she could help her, save her this indignity, despite not knowing her at all.
Millard nods, but steps closer to Cook. “I won’t hurt you. But I am so disappointed in you. Who took Addyson from the tower?”
Ginata closes her eyes, the swooping in her stomach making bile rise in her throat.
Of course, Cook knows that it’s Lanorie who was rescued today and not Addyson. If she says so, it will not only drop Will into trouble; it will drop Ginata in it too. She has visited the tower and spoken to Lanorie and not Addyson, and told the King lies.
Ginata holds her breath.
“My King.” Cook’s voice is strong and clear sounding. She doesn’t sound like her life is in peril and Ginata finds herself impressed with her mettle, even while worrying what will be said and done here. “I have always loved and looked after you. A little maid came to the kitchen and she was a new face. I asked her where she came from and she said she was a new maid appointed by the King. Appointed by you. I had no reason to question her further. I asked if she was busy attending to you or if she could go up to the tower. She seemed pleased at my suggestion, but I didn’t feel suspicious at the timing of her coming to my kitchen. I had no reason to. I sent her up to see Addyson with a tray of food and the next thing I know, your guards and Wolf here were dragging me away from my cooking. I honestly serve only you. And your mother and father before you.” Cook drops to her knees and Millard pulls her to her feet, a contrite look on his face now.
“Ah Cook, I am heart sorry. What have I done to you? I am so full of upset and suspicions I see snakes everywhere I look.”
Ginata wants to breathe a sigh of relief but knows better. This man who has changed his tune so suddenly could very well change it back again. She watches with interest, beyond impressed with, and grateful to, Cook for keeping her head and keeping her mouth closed.
Cook pats Millard on the head, a loving gesture despite what has just happened to her, and Ginata allows herself a smile. This woman is far shrewder than any of them would have thought.
“Forgive me?”
Cook nods her assent and Millard turns to Ginata. “Please take Cook back to the kitchen. I’ll see you at supper and we will make a plan. I need to get both of my sisters back and I need help. Wise woman.”
Ginata recognises her dismissal and feels a little bit aggrieved; she could offer help and advice here, help to cheer him up, but no, she is dismissed. She takes Cook’s arm. She makes sure not to rush away or run – which is what her instincts are telling her to do – and takes them both to safety.
For now.
Ceryn
I AM FEELING A FEELING that I have never felt before. I don’t like dwelling on feelings or talking about them, but it’s niggling at me.
I’m sitting in Della’s cottage in front of the fire, chewing on a twig – Weaver hates it when I do it, reckons I look like a bloody beaver or a squirrel or something, but I like it. It gives me something to do. And without my mask on it helps cover my face a bit. The paste has been washed off and my mark is there for anyone to see it. Not that there are many of us, only six. Ginata’s gone back to the castle. And I have to admit I like her more and more. I like all of them more and more and I think that’s what this feeling is.
Friendship. Contentment. Peace. Self-acceptance.
Yesterday when I found out that Archer had died I thought I would never smile again; that me and Weaver would ride home and grieve for him, talk about him, laugh about him, and maybe carry on with what we’ve always done, but then drift apart, because being together would remind us of him.
But we didn’t ride home. We stayed here. We helped. And now I find myself wanting to stay longer.
Everleigh’s just told us the story of when she made the river rise and Finn’s told us about when she made it rain and then threw a rock off course.
“Show us something,” I say, spitting a bit of chewed up twig into my hand. Della’s trying not to look disgusted and smiles as she points at the fire. I throw it in, though it’s too damp to burn straight away. I chew some more, watching this Kingmaker, this princess who will be Queen. Will I bow to her?
I think I will.
Yesterday I wanted to hurt her; to kill her.
Today I want to fight for her.
Funny how things change. I spit more wood into my hand and throw it on the fire. “Come on.”
Everleigh smiles at my words but shakes her head. “I’m not very good. I’m just learning.”
“Well learn some more,” I say.
I cannot believe I am speaking up, having my say, with all these people and my mask off and no one is scared or disgusted or ill with it.
She nods slightly and looks around the room. Her gaze rests on the fire and I see her lips move. I can’t hear her whisper and my eyes flip between her and the fire and then I see it.
The flames are growing higher, and then they are burning blue, and then they are spitting and Weaver shouts out, shuffling back out of the way. She calls the fire down and it obeys her.
I look around the room and we are all suitably impressed. “Do more! Do more!” I am like a child at a street show. Well, I think I am – I never went to any of them. If I had they might have tried to recruit me, freak that I am.
I shake my head at my silent words to myself. I am not a freak here today. I am amongst friends. New friends and old. I reach for Weaver’s hand.
The girl we rescued is a bit dim, a bit wishy washy but I can see that Everleigh likes her. I cannot see why Will is in love with her, but then what do I know about love?
Everleigh has stood up and we are all watching her.
“I’ll throw you this twig,” I say, remembering what Finn said about her moving the stone with her mind.
She nods, and I fling it at her, hard. I don’t want to make it too easy for her.
She watches it intently and then flicks her head to one side ever so slightly, then as the twig goes off course she turns her head the other way and my jaw drops. It really does, because the twig flips in mid-air and then with another shake of her head it is flying back towards me and I have to duck my head, so it doesn’t poke me in the eye.
Everyone laughs and I join in. Normally something like that would have narked me right off and I would have hit her or something, but she is smiling at me so sweetly that I cannot be cross.
“Alright. Enough showing off,” I say but my tone is light, and no one looks twice at me. Everleigh laughs and comes over to me, giving me a tight squeeze.
Later, when Weaver goes out for fresh air I follow him and slip my arms around his waist. I love hugging him, not that I’d tell him that, though.
He hugs me back. “What do you think about staying for a bit?” He asks what I was going to ask and I love him for asking it instead of me. Saving me from feeling weak or foolish.
“Could do,” I say and I hug him harder. He laughs a
nd I punch him.
Some things never change.
21
GINATA FINDS HERSELF next to Wolf, waiting to go into supper. Millard is taking his time, a queue of people shaking his hand and bowing low to him and asking for favours as they make their way along, which he just loves.
“Hope you’re proud of yourself.” She whispers the words so no one can hear her.
He looks down at her, a frown on his grisly face. “What?”
“The way you treated Cook.”
“I just do as I’m told, me.”
“Would you ever say no to him?”
He shakes his head then, his expression hard.
“What about his brother. Didn’t you work for him first?”
“Only because Millard told me to.”
Ginata shakes her head and frowns at him. “You make me sick.”
Wolf looks down at his feet but doesn’t answer. What could he say? He works for the King and will do as he’s told, whatever he’s told, however awful it is. If Millard had told him to kill Cook there and then, he would have. He’s already killed Molly.
“You work for him too.” Defending himself.
Ginata shrugs.
“And if he tells you to do something you better.”
“I would, of course I would.” She lies easily.
“People always do as they’re told. By whoever has the power. Or by whoever they love.”
Ginata looks at him sharply, surprised by something so profound coming out of his mouth.
Eventually they take their seats; Wolf one side of his King, Ginata the other. There is no one else to join them.
Even though he is smiling so that his people can see how affable and easy going he is, Millard is still furious about his sister being taken from the tower.
“Who. Is. Helping. Her?” His words are stark and angry and Ginata is wishing herself back in her cottage.
The Kingmaker Complete Trilogy (The Kingmaker Trilogy #1-3) Page 36