Born to Rule

by Gemma Perfect

  “But he’s gone. What if he’s gone to her? To whoever has her. She’s not safe.”

  “I don’t know what to say. I don’t know what to do.”

  “We need to go to the cottages,” Will says, standing up and swaying slightly. “We all need to be together and then we can make a plan.”

  “Our plans don’t work.” Ceryn’s voice is as angry as her face. “We had him. We have his crown. I could scream.”

  “We have no idea where either of them is. Let’s do what Will said. Go down to the cottages and at least the rest of us will all be in one place.”

  Ceryn nods her agreement, though her face is still set in fury.

  They support Will, each of them taking an arm and they head to the cottages, keeping an eye out for Millard, Wolf or any other trouble.

  They don’t meet trouble but they do meet Weaver in the woods.

  “Millard’s gone.” Ceryn spits out the words as an accusation. “Why did you leave him? We had him.”

  Weaver rubs a hand over his face. “Gone?”

  “Yes. Now we don’t have him or Everleigh.”

  “How did he get away?”

  “His ropes were cut; someone must have carried him away. Oh, I don’t even know. But now what? We had him. He killed Archer and we had him.”

  Weaver takes his friend in his arms, holding her tight, crying with her. “I’m sorry. I took Addyson to the cottages. We thought she’d be safer there.”

  “I can’t believe we’ve lost them both.”

  “We’re worried in case whoever rescued him has taken him to whoever took Everleigh.”

  Weaver nods. “Let’s go back to the cottages. Reconvene. Think.”

  They trudge to the cottages, each consumed with their own thoughts, and none of them good.

  Ceryn

  IF I DIDN’T LOVE WEAVER so much I’d kick him. Why did he leave Millard alone? We are so slow getting back to the cottages that I want to cry. To scream. To punch something. Or someone.

  I am so angry I can feel my insides squirming like a trapped rabbit. We are too slow. Too stupid. All of us trooping through the woods. Will is like an old man, wincing and groaning, filled with misery that he didn’t look after Everleigh better. Weaver is angry too, I can tell, but it’s kind of his fault for leaving Millard.

  We had him. Damn it. I clocked him twice over the head. I tied him up so tight. And Ginata had drugged him. Whoever freed him would have had to carry him. They wouldn’t have gone too far, and he could be hidden somewhere in the castle but I’d get lost. I’m going around in circles. I hate being helpless like this.

  And Ginata, well I don’t know her well enough to say, but she’s as miserable as a dead frog.

  I hate this day.

  I hate that Millard has escaped. I wanted so badly to get revenge for Archer’s death.

  Why didn’t I kill him?

  No more weakness. No more second guessing myself. If I see him or Wolf or anyone else I don’t like the look of, they can watch out. I’ll kill them first and ask questions later.

  We reach the cottages and Weaver pushes through the door. Della, Finn and Addyson jump up. Waiting for our news. Our terrible news.

  “Millard’s gone,” I tell them. Relishing the bad news, actually. Wanting them to feel the way I feel. “Millard’s gone. Everleigh’s gone. We have the crown, but no one to wear it.”

  I throw myself down on the chair, scowling at them all, daring them to say a word to try to calm me or placate me. Della stands with her hands over her mouth, masking her horror. We had the man who killed Archer, Halfreda, locked Addyson up, killed Lanorie, would kill Everleigh in a second, tied up and helpless and now he’s gone. I know how she feels.

  Addyson walks to my side, perches on the arm of the chair and takes my hand.

  Damn her. She’s the only one who even has a chance at softening me now.

  “Where’s he gone? How did he get away?”

  “We don’t know. We don’t know anything. I know he’s your brother but I wish I’d killed him when I had the chance.”

  “I wish you had too. Do you think he’s gone to Everleigh? To whoever has her?”

  “If he has...” I shake my head. I won’t say what we all know, no matter how cross I am. If Millard has Everleigh then Everleigh is as good as dead.

  “Let’s all go to the castle. To Millard’s rooms. In case she’s brought there.”

  “We all need to stay together.” Ginata looks around at us all. At least she’s talking now. Doesn’t look so...sad.

  “What if the King’s men come to Millard’s rooms. They’d outnumber us.”

  “What if we go to your rooms, Addyson? We need to be at the castle. And we need to be together.”

  “Let’s just go somewhere. We can make a plan as we go along. They never work anyway.” I cannot bear this sitting around doing nothing. Waiting. Wondering. I need to be moving, fighting, making stuff happen.

  I’m at a loss here, though.

  What do we do?

  We have lost the King. We have no idea who rescued him or how or where they took him.

  We have lost Everleigh. We don’t know where she is or if she’s safe. We think Brett took her but we don’t know anything for sure. The castle seems the only logical place to go. It’s the centre of this whole mess.

  I walk with Addyson because I don’t want to talk to Weaver. It made sense to move Addyson, I know she had to be kept safe but if he had stayed with Millard, then we’d still have him. Weaver would have easily fought off whoever took Millard. Easily.

  Addyson takes my hand. She needs comforting. “Do you think my sister’s dead?”

  I shake my head. Then shrug. “I don’t know.”

  I wish I knew. I wish I could comfort this girl who’s so much like me.

  “I hope not. I hope she’s alive and kicking. Fighting whoever took her. Battling...”

  It hits me then that wherever Everleigh is, she’s alone and scared and helpless. How will she kick, fight, battle? We need to find her. We need to help her. I just wish I knew how. I stop still, causing the rest of us to stumble. “We have to find Everleigh. It’s no use hiding away at the castle. She’s not there and neither is Millard. She’s been taken somewhere.”

  “She might be there, hidden...”

  “Right, so me and Finn and Ginata will go and search the woods, the river, the villages. You lot go to the castle and look there.”

  “She won’t be in the villages. No one in the villages would hide her or harm her.” Will knows more than any of us how well loved and well known the Kingmaker is, strange how he fell in love with Lanorie instead of Everleigh.

  “So where? Where would you take someone to hide them away from the castle? But close.”

  “There’s a few places...” Finn says. “Between the castle and the village, there’s a few places. The old barns, the caves by the river, the top of the forest where they hunt – the shacks up there.”

  “Right. We’ll search around and about. You guys search the castle. Every room, every place you could hide someone. Just be careful. Watch for Millard or Wolf.”

  “I’d rather search outside. She’s more likely to be outside and I’m the one who lost her.” Will looks at me, trying to appeal to my better nature. It’s no use; I don’t have one.

  I shake my head. I like having a plan, but Will is in no state to hunt outside for Everleigh. He still looks woozy from the blow to his head. And I don’t want him slowing me down. “Will you’re not well enough. Right Ginata?”

  She nods her agreement. “She’s right Will. You took quite a smack. You could easily pass out, hurt yourself, even worse. I know you feel helpless but you’re not to blame. Please Will.”

  He nods though I can tell he’s not happy.

  I squeeze Addyson’s hand. “Weaver will keep you safe.”

  We have to find our missing Kingmaker and we have to get that crown on her head before Millard turns up again.

  3

 
MILLARD GROANS AND reaches for a drink. He feels half dead and groggy. He cannot look for anyone to help him but he knows he needs to get help before whoever knocked him out finds him again. He is hiding in his bedroom, hoping no one will search there for him.

  He slides down onto the floor, back against the door, hand clutched to his head, fingers wet with his own blood, crown missing. Choking back a sob, he closes his eyes. What has happened to him and who will help him?

  “Hello?” He jumps at the sound of a voice, fear flooding through him, he scrambles to his feet, ready to run. “Hello?” The voice again. Millard raises a hand, opens the door, and falls into the arms of one of the pages, causing him to drop the jug of ale he’s carrying.

  “My King.”

  “Help me boy. I have been attacked. I’m not safe. Can you help me get out of here? Get me a horse?”

  The page nods and stepping over the mess, takes Millard’s arm. “What happened, my King?”

  “I don’t know.” Millard can hear how scared he sounds and while he hates it, he cannot stop the tremble in his voice. Someone attacked him, here in his own castle. Someone knocked him out, tied him up, took his crown and left him for dead. In his own castle. “Where are my men? My guards?”

  “After the big fight broke up, everyone scarpered, it’s dead quiet here.”

  “Useless...” Without Wolf or his men, it’s definitely no longer safe for him. It must have been his sister. He saw Brett chase after her and the fool but he has no idea if he managed to catch them.

  She must be responsible for this. No one else would want to hurt him.

  No one else would dare.

  “Have you seen Wolf, boy?”

  The page shakes his head. “I’ll look for him, my King. Once I’ve got you sorted.”

  “Thank you.”

  Millard shakes his head. Imagine a King being attacked and driven out of his own castle. He will find Wolf, he will find his sister and then he will take his crown back.

  ADDYSON, WEAVER, WILL and Della walk into the front of the castle as Millard walks out the back. The castle is too quiet; the King’s men still licking their wounds after the brawl earlier today, when the crowd rose up to protect their Kingmaker.

  They search Millard’s rooms, Everleigh’s room and Ginata’s rooms before settling in Addyson’s room. She hasn’t got a grand suite of rooms, being only eleven, no one thought she needed them.

  “What now?” Addyson sits on her window seat.

  “Apart from the tower is there anywhere else to house prisoners? Dungeons...or a safe place or something. Somewhere the King could hide if he were being attacked?”

  Addyson shakes her head. “Only the tower for prisoners. Nowhere to hide.”

  “Neither of them can be here. He wouldn’t be hiding in the barn or the great hall. He must have fled.”

  “Why would he flee? Why wouldn’t he stay and fight? Cause trouble? My brother wouldn’t give up so easily.”

  Will shrugs. “Whoever rescued him thought it was better to go elsewhere? Maybe it was Wolf and he still feels rough after being attacked.”

  “We can guess all day long but it won’t help,” Della says, sitting next to Addyson. “We don’t know where either of them are. But for now, he’s not here, which means you are safe.”

  “And you’re still a royal princess. I think we should go to the great hall. Put you somewhere public, where no one would hurt you. It might be the safest place for you.” Weaver looks out of the window. “There’s hardly anyone around, but there’s always people in the great hall, right?”

  “Yes. Commoners come to see the King, watch him eat, beg his pardon, the important families have places at his table, visitors from all ends of the Realm.”

  “That’s a great idea. Without the King’s say so, no one would hurt Addyson.” Will smiles. “I’ll take to the floor, do my fooling; maybe no one will guess that anything’s amiss. Let’s go.”

  “I’ll be with you all, anyway. We’ll sit her on the dais, let everyone see that she’s safe and well.”

  “You can order some food from the kitchen.” Della smiles at her. “I’ll be right by your side.”

  “I’m scared.”

  “Don’t be. Putting you in plain sight is the best way to keep you safe until we find Everleigh.”

  Della fusses with Addyson, putting her in one of her finest gowns, brushing out her hair, putting jewels in her curls. Weaver stands guard outside and Will paces the corridor.

  When Addyson comes out they smile. “Great,” Weaver says.

  Will curls a strand of her hair around his finger. “You look so pretty. And you are the royal princess; the only royal here now. Let’s start taking back this castle, ready for your sister.”

  Addyson nods and straightens up, trying to look taller, more in control. Will cartwheels ahead of them, Weaver walks to the side of her, sword aloft and Della walks behind her, like a proper lady in waiting.

  They don’t meet anybody on the way, but the two guards outside the great hall block the way.

  Weaver barks at them, “Stand aside for her royal highness Princess Addyson.”

  The two guards look at each other and back at Weaver and Will, at Addyson and Della and then shrug, stepping aside for Addyson to enter the hall.

  “See, without Millard telling them what to do, they haven’t got the sense to figure it out for themselves.”

  There aren’t many people here, a few courtiers, some castle regulars and several visitors left over from the coronation. Those who are here though stand when she enters, bowing low and waving or calling out greetings.

  Addyson blushes and walks slowly, carefully and steadily to the dais. She takes the seat next to Millard’s throne, her father’s throne and sits with her head high, her eyes meeting all of those who gaze at her.

  “The Princess!” A man shouts out the toast and voices take up the call. No one has seen Addyson since the coronation when she was taken and locked in the tower. “Best wishes Princess.” “Good to see you!”

  Addyson lets their cheers and words pour over her and grins. She gestures for Della and Weaver to join her. Della agrees, but Weaver stations himself at the front of the dais, watching everyone, assessing the threat.

  Will starts telling jokes, and messing around; no one watching would guess how heavy his heart is.

  A little maid rushes to Addyson’s side and she asks for food to be brought through to the great hall for her and everyone else. The little maid does as she is bid.

  Della smiles. “You are a princess through and through.”

  “I’m not. I’m cursed. No one usually cheers or claps for me.”

  “But they haven’t seen you in days. They were obviously worried.”

  “Maybe.”

  “I wonder where they thought you were. I wonder how much people know.”

  “Who knows? I don’t like being out in the open like this, though.”

  “Weaver will protect you. And I will.”

  “You?”

  “I would never let anyone hurt you, princess. I feel like...” Della shakes her head.

  “What?”

  “I feel like I could be your mother. I know I’m not and I would never try to-”

  “I feel the same. I never knew my mother and no one has ever looked after me unless they worked at the castle, except my sister. I feel like you care about me. And not because you have to.”

  “I do. You may be cursed, but that means nothing to me. I love you like you’re my own.”

  Addyson hugs Della, tears coursing down her face. She pulls back when the food arrives and smiles at Della and Weaver. Maybe everything will be good. Maybe this will all work out.

  Everleigh

  I OPEN MY EYES AND close them straight away. What am I seeing?

  Archer.

  I open them again and he’s still there. I reach out a hand and I touch him. He’s real. I can feel his skin with my touch. He’s warm. Alive.

  “Archer?” I grab hold
of him, drawing him as close as I can, holding him, squeezing him, crying and laughing, confused but uncaring. Archer is alive.

  “How?”

  His hands are in my hair, his tears mixing with mine.

  Was it only three days ago, I watched him die?

  The teacher steps forward, Halfreda’s teacher. “Everleigh. I think I can explain this better than Archer.”

  I nod my head, and hold on to Archer’s hand, sneaking glances at him, catching him sneaking glances at me.

  The teacher paces the cave while he talks and I watch him, trying to concentrate, though the warmth of Archer’s body next to mine is making it almost impossible.

  “Before I left, after your father was found dead, I spoke to Archer. I feared for your safety and his. I gave him a gift, something I was given by a man from the North of the Realm. I’ve never seen anything like it; it may be magical, or just clever workmanship, but it’s a body shield to be worn under clothes. Normally armour is worn over clothes, but this is designed to be hidden, deceitful even. It gives a fighter an unfair advantage in a duel or a tourney and so it’s not something I would have asked Archer to wear in either of those situations. But the coronation was neither and I felt the danger.”

  I am trying to follow what he’s saying, even though my head is hurting.

  “I was selfish in leaving the castle, but I had to. I...” He shakes his head. “Anyway. I left Archer with this gift and I urged him to wear it.”

  “And I did,” Archer says.

  “I was well away from the castle when I had the strongest need to return. I came back and I arrived at the tail end of the coronation. I saw Millard attack Archer and I watched everybody leave. Sure, he was dead.”

  I close my eyes remembering the pain. My brother killing our other brother, Macsen, Wolf attacking me, Halfreda dead, Archer dead. So many bad things it’s hard to say which was worse.

  “I waited until the crowd dispersed. It didn’t take long with the spectacle over. I couldn’t feel the beat of life inside him, but I hoped it was because he was wearing the shield. I put your cloak over another body – there were several laying around unfortunately. Violence really does inspire violence.”