Born to Rule Page 17

  Millard reaches inside his cloak and nods to Wolf. In three strides Wolf has reached Finn and grips on to him.

  “Recognise this?” Millard asks me, holding out a small black vial.

  I feel ill. “No! Don’t do it!”

  He grins at me and shakes his head. “I’m not going to listen to you, little Ginny. But I thank you.”

  He lifts the vial in a cheers motion and unscrews the lid. I can feel the thrum of evil emanating from the potion and it makes me want to be sick. Bile rises in my throat and I swallow it down. He is going to kill Finn using my potion. Another death on my conscience. I really should have drunk it down instead of giving it to him.

  Why did I trust him when he said it was for himself? He’s a snake and a liar and a murderer. I know all of this and I still served him like a fool in love.

  Ceryn’s glare has reached me now and her fury is intense; it’s a physical weight I can feel, searing my skin and burdening me. An accusation.

  Finn is weeping now, his voice catching. “I’m sorry Ceryn. Tell my sister I’m sorry. Tell Everleigh I’m sorry.”

  Millard sneers at him. “You are a disgrace. Whimpering and simpering like an old woman. Tell my sister I’m sorry. Tell Everleigh I’m sorry. Your sister will die of shame and Everleigh won’t remember your name in a month’s time. You’re nothing to her. That’s what got you into this mess in the first place. Remember? Unrequited love. It’s a killer...right Ginny?”

  I blush and refuse to look at him. A fool in love. And he knows it.

  Finn is quaking as Wolf holds his head back, cranking his jaw open.

  “How much?” Millard looks at me. “What did it take to kill my father, Ginny? You made that draught too, didn’t you? And yet you thought I could forgive you, love you. You KILLED my father.”

  The roar of his voice makes me shake, tears running down my cheeks. Pathetic I know.

  Millard holds the vial up and lets three drops, then four fall on to Finn’s tongue. One drop would have done it. Though the more they swallow the quicker the end comes. Millard obviously wants to keep the draught, probably to finish me off. Poetic justice.

  As the death draught seeps into his system, Finn stops fighting Wolf, then he starts gurgling, and then he starts to spasm. Slowly his skin turns black and I can see that Ceryn cannot look either as Finn dies slowly in front of us.

  Wolf drops him to the floor with a thud and lets him take his last few breaths, abandoned and discarded. Used and no longer needed.

  I am silently crying for Finn. For myself. For Everleigh. For all that I was and what I have become. For the regret that has come too late. The change of heart that is wasted as I have already betrayed my beliefs.

  “Good work.” Millard nods at me and Wolf comes to stand in front of me. I make it easy for him, stand up and face him, ready for him to tie me up with Ceryn, so we can both sit and contemplate our lives while awaiting our deaths.

  I have no fight left in me. Besides, what would be the point? I could struggle and squirm and argue and scream, but the result would be the same. At least this way they have no reason to hit me or hurt me. I am being good and compliant.

  Wolf ties me into the other chair, the same way he’s tied Ceryn, rope around me and the chair, tethering us so that we cannot even stand up.

  He leaves my hands loose in front of me and Millard presses the black vial, the death draught, into my hand. “Wolf and I have a few things to do. Tomorrow you will both die.”

  Wolf moves the chairs so that Ceryn and I face each other, Finn dead on the floor beside us.

  “Or, you could save me the job. If you feel thirsty that is.”

  I clutch the vial in my hand but keep my eyes away from Millard. I cannot look at him. What is wrong with me that I was so entranced by him?

  Wolf drags Finn’s body out of the cottage and Millard kisses my forehead before following him. “We’ll be back in the morning. Pretty sure no one will come looking for you before then, and there’s no chance of you escaping. Sorry, Ginny, we could have been so good together...”

  23

  “WHERE IS SHE? SHE’S been too long.”

  The food has been eaten, the ale all drunk. Addyson, a sad look on her face that Everleigh cannot replace with a smile no matter how hard she tries, has gone to Ginata’s bedroom with Della. Della will stay with her till she is sleeping, even though she cannot bear to leave the room, where she has been standing looking out over the courtyard, hoping to see her brother return. “Something’s wrong. Finn’s in trouble,” is all she says as she leads Addyson away to sleep.

  Everleigh paces the room. “She’s right. Ceryn should be back by now. Finn with her. What do we do?”

  “We cannot do anything. Not tonight.” The teacher’s voice is firm. “Archer is not well enough. Ceryn can look after herself and if, for some reason, she cannot, if something has gone wrong, then it is too late for us to help anyway. We cannot help by putting ourselves at risk.”

  Everleigh sinks into a seat. “I know you are right but I cannot bear it.”

  “When you are Queen, and your army is at war, for whatever reason, you cannot join them. You have to trust that they are off doing what they know best. And win or lose, you cannot risk your own life. That is why a King or Queen has an army, people to protect them. Their life is the most important. You have to get used to that, Everleigh. Whether you like it or not.”

  “But what about Finn? He’s not a fighter or a member of my army.”

  “And if he has walked into trouble that is his own fault. You cannot be with every person who lives in the Realm, protecting them always. They have to make their own way. Maybe Finn didn’t even go to the cottage. Maybe Millard isn’t even there. We are guessing now and worrying about things we are not even sure of.”

  Will takes a seat next to Everleigh. “You know he’s right.”

  Silence. Everleigh throws back her head, letting out a deep breath. “I know he’s right. I know it. But I hate it. I don’t think I’m cut out to be a Queen. To have that sense of importance. To have everyone running around after me, while I sit on a throne and watch.”

  “You don’t have to be that type of Queen but you have to accept what the teacher says. You have to be safe. Stay safe. Stay alive. We need to finish this. End this thing with Millard. Then you can make plans. Decide what kind of Queen you want to be and choose a life that makes you happy.”

  “That sounds good. I’m just worrying. I’m worried about Ceryn. And Finn.”

  “Don’t worry.” Archer puts his hands on her shoulders. “Ceryn is tough. She’ll be back before we know it. And when we’ve got Weaver and your army in place, then we’ll go after your brother. Finish this.”

  “Finish this.”

  The words lay between them, the tension mounting, and then an almighty scream splits the air. Archer has his hand to his sword, letting out a groan of pain. “Will, take Everleigh in with Addyson and Della.”

  “You can’t fight alone.”

  “I have to do something. Will look out of the window. See anything?”

  “Nothing. There’s no one down there.”

  There is another almighty scream from outside, followed by shouts of fear and upset. Will looks out of the window again. “The courtyard’s filling up. I don’t know-”

  “Get Everleigh out of here.”

  Archer holds his sword up and heads out of the room, not waiting for an answer, or an argument.

  GINATA LIFTS HER HEAD in the silence of her little cottage and looks at Ceryn. “I’m so sorry.”

  Ceryn spits some blood out of her mouth, aiming for the floor, where Finn’s body had been. She shrugs, takes a deep breath. “It wasn’t your fault.”

  “It was. I untied Millard, after you hit him, I rescued Wolf from the tower. I made this death draught.”

  “Well, don’t even think about drinking it. You don’t get out of it that easily.”

  “I want to get out of it.”

  “Well, you
can’t. Like I said, it wasn’t your fault.”

  “Why not? Because you have to obey the King?”

  “That’s part of it, I guess. None of us wanted him to kill you for disagreeing with him. But also, because you love him.”

  Ginata’s shock is evident and yet what would she prefer? That people think she betrayed Everleigh because she hated her. She did love Millard. Not now, but then. Why else would she have messed everything up?

  “I...” She shakes her head, nothing to say, no defence.

  “It wasn’t your fault. The teacher found love potions all over your room. He’s been drugging you.”

  The look on Ginata’s face changes from shock to horror, her colour draining even more and the vial dropping from her fingers onto her lap. “You mean...?”

  Ceryn nods. “And you’re bloody lucky we found out. I was ready to kill you. But you weren’t in your right mind. So the teacher says. And I trust him more than I trust you.”

  “You hate me, don’t you?”

  “Not hate. I just, I don’t understand you. I don’t get your potions or lotions, your tonics, your spells. I don’t...” She trails off, shifting in the seat and trying to get comfortable.

  “So, I’ve been drinking a love potion. Really?” Slowly the colour comes back to her cheeks, and she is smiling, almost in wonder. “I didn’t betray Everleigh then?”

  “Well you did, yes.”

  “But I didn’t want to?”

  “Who knows? The teacher reckons you wouldn’t know what you were doing, but we’ll never know, really. How much was the potion, how much was your choice.”

  “I would never choose to betray Everleigh. I couldn’t understand what I was thinking or feeling or why I was doing the things I was doing. I-”

  She closes her eyes, tears slipping from behind her closed lids.

  “I won’t trust you again.” Ceryn’s voice is harsh.

  “Maybe not, but Everleigh might.”

  “Della won’t.”

  Ginata shakes her head. “I had to make the draught, he told me to. I wanted to help him...now I know why. He told me it was for him; in case he was captured.”

  “Then you definitely were a fool in love. For himself!” Ceryn snorts, and spits out more blood.

  “Look. I didn’t want to serve him, or get stuck in the castle with him but I did it for Everleigh. I had no idea he was putting anything in my drinks. How would I? I just did as I was told and then the more time I spent with him...”

  “You fell in love. Have you...?”

  “What? We’ve kissed and I liked it. I hate that I liked it. But I did. He is handsome you know?”

  “Yes, a gorgeous snake. A murdering, foul, evil, loathsome toad. How could you? Didn’t you feel bad? Think about Everleigh at all?”

  “All the time. I hated myself but I did it anyway. I wanted to help him, look after him, protect him. I’m sorry. But now I know – regardless of what you think – I had no choice.”

  “You should drink that poison. Reap what you sow.”

  They sit in silence for an age. Ceryn simmering with hate, anger, upset, and the futility of her situation. Getting herself captured wasn’t part of the plan. Everyone at the castle will be worried sick about her. And Finn. Finn was dead. How could they explain his betrayal to his sister without breaking her heart? But without dropping him in it, it made Ceryn look like an incompetent idiot for letting him get killed.

  She lets out a snarl of fury as she spits another gob of blood onto the floor.

  Ginata has her eyes closed, refusing to look at Ceryn, savouring the relief in her heart, the liquefying of the hard lump that she’s felt in her stomach since she helped Millard escape after Ceryn tied him up. She feels lighter and looser and infinitely happier.

  If she does die tomorrow, she can die with a clear conscience and if she sees Everleigh again, she will happily beg for forgiveness, knowing that it wasn’t her own soul that betrayed her friend, but something she was forced to do.

  Tears of happiness slip down her cheeks.

  “What are we going to do then?” Ceryn’s voice interrupts her reverie and Ginata opens her eyes, delighted to be back on the right side.

  Ceryn

  I DON’T WANT TO TALK to her, but like Finn said, before he double crossed me, two heads are better than one.

  And we are in a bit of a bind.

  I can tell she’s relieved by what I told her. Probably wants to know more details but I won’t help her out. Maybe she was under a spell, a love potion, but I reckon she didn’t try hard enough to fight it. It would be like me suddenly grabbing Wolf for a quick fondle, ridiculous. Disgusting.

  She had choices. And she made bad ones.

  That’s what I reckon.

  But we are both tied up, tied to chairs, with my hands behind my back and a vial of death draught. That’s it. I can’t reach my weapons, and unless Ginata can lift herself and the big old arm chair she’s sat on, she can’t either.

  “Do you think they’ll come back tonight?”

  “Why? Are you missing lover boy?”

  “No! I was just wondering. I don’t see what we can do.”

  Neither do I and I hate it.

  I try to wriggle and jiggle myself free, twisting this way and that, but my ropes are tied so tight, I just end up sweaty and aggravated, my hair flopping in my eyes, so I have to flick my head like a crazy bat to try to move it. I have an itch on my nose that I would kill to scratch and I let out a screech of frustration, as tears spring in my eyes.

  “Do you want the vial?” Ginata offers it to me, her voice all sarcastic now she thinks she’s in the clear with Everleigh.

  “If I am going to die, I will die kicking, screaming, yelling and fighting. I will not bow down to that man and I will not go easily. Not me.”

  “Nor me. I want to live.”

  “Now you know you’re in the clear?”

  “In the clear?”

  “Well, we’ll never know if you wanted to help Millard or if you were forced into it against your will. Pretty convenient. Playing both sides, with a good excuse.”

  “You are so bitter and twisted because of the life you’ve led with that thing on your face, you can’t believe that people are good. Want to say good things, do good things, be good. You can’t stand it. The purity of it. You want to sully everything because you’re angry. But I won’t have it. I did betray Everleigh and it broke my heart even as I did it. I had no choice, no way to stop what I was doing. I was a puppet. And now I know why. I feel good and yes, I’ll be glad to face Everleigh and beg her forgiveness despite the fact that I couldn’t help what I did.”

  I don’t even answer her, just give her a look that tells her plainly that I’d like to punch her in the eye and I close my eyes so I don’t have to see her smug face anymore.

  If hers is the last face I see before I die, that’ll be a pretty sad ending.

  Is this it? Will he kill us here or take us to the castle like he promised. If he does, then there’s more chance of us getting free. Especially if Weaver gets back with troops.

  If I wasn’t tied to this chair I could do it. I could wriggle enough to get a hold of my dagger.

  I open my eyes.

  “Ginata. I’ve got a dagger in my boot.”

  I start moving backwards and forwards, rocking the chair, getting it to move forwards. Ginata does the same with her chair, bucking herself this way and that and soon the chairs have moved enough that our legs are touching. Only our middles are tied, not our feet. I can get my leg up so that it’s lying on her chair, next to her leg, but she cannot quite reach me, even though her hands aren’t tied.

  “I’m not tied as tightly as you.” She wriggles and squirms, shifting her weight to one side so that the other side of her can get closer to me.

  Then she does it, she reaches into my boot and pulls out my dagger.

  I forget how much I hate her in that second. “Quick!”

  She cuts at the ropes on my hands first,
and then at the ones around her middle. I am almost crowing, I am so pleased. Millard really is terrible at this.

  If you tie someone up and they’re not locked up as well, you have to check if they have any means of escape. He is either completely stupid or completely arrogant. Or a bit of both.

  We stand, both of us groaning, our ropes pooled on the chairs. She slips the vial of death draught into her pocket and I let her keep hold of my dagger.

  “Let’s go!”

  I swing open the door and halt in my tracks, holding up a hand for Ginata to be quiet. At the end of the path, facing away from us is one of the King’s men. Millard can’t have many left at this point and I am happy to kill another one.

  I hold up my sword as I approach him and before he even knows we are there, I slice his head clean off. I grab hold of Ginata before she can look too closely at the blood and we run through the trees as though we are being chased by Millard and all his hounds.

  We jump on Pitch, good old Pitch, waiting for me, and we ride like Millard’s hounds are actually on our tail.

  The courtyard is in uproar when we get there, and we jump off Pitch, standing together to catch our breath and see what the fuss is all about, when I spot the flames shooting out of the stables.

  “Ginata, get inside!”

  I don’t wait to hear her answer, I run towards the fire, sword out, ready to go again.

  The stable boys are crying and pulling at the horses, trying to get them out of there, before the flames engulf them. The pages are filling buckets of water, throwing them on the fire.

  “Archer!” I spot him easily, his hair the same colour as the fire he’s trying to put out. “What’s going on?”

  “Same as before. Some hooded idiots, shouting in the name of the King. Ran through with flaming torches, threw them in the hay and bolted.”

  I am shaking with anger again. If I get my hands on Millard I will kill him slowly.

  “Ink?”

  “Safe. All of them safe so far. Some singed tails and manes but all alive.”