The Kingmaker Complete Trilogy (The Kingmaker Trilogy #1-3) Page 17

  “Halfreda, quick, we need to get Will to your rooms. We think he can be saved.”

  I know I need to but I cannot move.

  I announce it, ridiculously simply, without preamble or assurances. “The King is dead. He has been murdered.”

  20

  THIS TIME, WHEN EVERLEIGH falls Archer cannot catch her because he is still holding Will.

  Halfreda helps Everleigh to her feet, but she cannot stand. “My father?”

  Halfreda nods at her. There are no words. She scoops her up again and this time, supports her so that she can’t fall.

  “By my brother?”

  Halfreda nods again, slowly. “I think so. How did you guess?”

  Everleigh gestures at Will.

  Halfreda rubs at her face; she is pale and weary. “He did this too?”

  “Macsen.” Everleigh nods. “He thought that Will was me. He wanted to kill me.”

  Halfreda shakes her head, a sob escaping her; what a mess.

  They need to get to Halfreda’s rooms, and quickly. Will is losing blood fast, and his breathing is shallow, but Everleigh is like a puppet with no strings, limp and crying. Endless tears washing away all hopes of normality.

  Halfreda assists her and they go as quickly as they can. Archer lays Will out in front of Halfreda’s fire, still burning, though low. Halfreda throws some more logs on, and bustles about in some drawers. They can’t risk calling the King’s doctor, they have no idea now who is in an alliance with whom. Macsen could have been quietly gathering supporters around him, ready for his coup, his bid for the Kingship. It is clear now that he will do anything to get the crown. Including killing his own father and sister.

  Archer sits holding Everleigh and Halfreda kneels next to Will. She pulls his clothes off him, revealing the wounds in his stomach.

  Clearly Macsen is a swordsman but not a good marksman. He has made two fatal mistakes; he hasn’t checked that his intended victim is the one in the bed. And he hasn’t stabbed in enough places to ensure maximum damage. To do a better job he should have stabbed in the stomach, the heart and the throat, but instead all three wounds are in one area, underneath Will’s heart, to the left.

  He has lost a lot of blood but he could be lucky.

  Halfreda has cloth, herbs, water boiling on the fire, and within minutes she has set up a little surgery. The wounds need cleaning and one needs stitching. He needs a tonic and he needs to wake up. He is unconscious, which is a worry.

  She will do all she can; she can only try.

  Everleigh’s rocking in Archer’s arms, making a strange noise, like a mewling kitten. She needs a tonic too.

  Halfreda makes two infusions of herbs and spices, made with boiling water and different strengths of flavours for each patient. Everleigh has no physical injury and yet could be in a far worse predicament than Will.

  Sometimes physical injuries healed but mental anguish changed a soul completely.

  Halfreda is worried for Everleigh. So much has happened and changed in one week and now this. Her own brother has killed her father and tried to kill her. The betrayal is massive and will lead her to question everything.

  “How could he?” Her voice is a whisper, but Halfreda and Archer hear.

  “Power?” Halfreda shrugs. It is a question as much as Everleigh’s had been. How could a sweet and kind brother and son turn into a monstrous murderer?

  And what should they do next?

  Halfreda passes the drink to Archer to hold for Everleigh; she will only drop it. He holds it up to her lips and she sips at it automatically.

  “How could he?” she asks again. Then she sits upright. “Addy. Millard. We need to fetch them.” She stands up and loses her balance, falling again. Archer catches her, just, and settles her back in the chair.

  “I thought of them,” Halfreda says. “But I think they’ll be fine. They have nothing to offer Macsen. With you and your father dead, the old laws will come into play. The eldest son will take the crown, as they take property or coin after death.”

  “We can’t let him take the crown. It’s mine.” Everleigh’s eyes are filled with a mix of sorrow and hate. “He killed my father. He’s not fit to rule.”

  “Agreed. But what do we do?”

  “There is no one here to challenge him.”

  “I am here.” Everleigh’s voice is strong for the first time since she heard the news of her father’s death. “I am meant to be Queen.”

  Halfreda nods, still tending to Will. He seems to be breathing a little easier and the bleeding has been staunched. “Archer. What would you do?”

  “We cannot take your brother on, not right now. We have no idea how many men he has on his side, or what he might do. It’s too dangerous. I think Macsen thinks he’s free to be King now that the King is dead and he thinks he killed Everleigh. He may announce it tomorrow but he cannot be King without the proper ceremony. There will need to be a coronation.”

  “So, we let him think he is to be King and then stop the coronation?”

  Archer nods. “That’s what I’m thinking. He thinks you’re dead.”

  “What about my body? Won’t he be waiting for one of the little maids to raise the alarm in the morning?”

  “Halfreda, what do we do?”

  Halfreda is quiet. There are so many questions to answer, things that need doing. “What if I am the one to find her body? I am allowed in her room, and I could say that I found her and wrapped her ready for her blessing.”

  “We could just bundle up some cloth. No one will look. We will say her injuries were so bad that she needed to be covered. We need a witness, though.”

  “You?”

  Archer shakes his head at Halfreda’s suggestion. “Lanorie?”

  “Lanorie?” Everleigh still can’t fathom why Lanorie had betrayed her but she doesn’t want to see her again.

  “People will take her word for it. They’ll believe her.”

  This much is true. It would go a way towards Lanorie atoning for what she had done. Everleigh nods her agreement. “Let’s get Will stable and then we’ll go to her.”

  She freezes, hands covering her mouth. “Addy? Addyson. I can’t do this to her. I cannot let her believe her mother is dead. Her father is dead. I am dead. I am everything to her. I am the only one who truly sees past her curse.”

  Halfreda takes Everleigh’s hands and holds her tight. “This situation is making all of us do things we wouldn’t choose to. None of this is our first choice. You must keep her safe. She is too young to understand the peril. She will get over it. She’ll be fine when she sees that you live. And when you rule you will more than make it up to her.”

  Everleigh’s eyes are sad as she looks at Halfreda. “When I am Queen, I will not be helpless any more. I cannot wait to have a choice in my life. To have the say over what I do and where I go.”

  “It is coming,” Halfreda says, hoping that she is right.

  Ginata

  I HAVE BEEN GOING THROUGH my things and slowly packing up since Halfreda left me. It will be a few days until I am needed to replace her, if she is right, but I have a lot of things in my little cottage.

  I am taking a rest when a young boy from the village knocks at my door. I answer it, wondering if he has a family member unwell, or a school mate being unkind to him. It’s rare that youngsters ask for my help but it does happen.

  “News from the castle.” He has no breath; he must be running everywhere. With so much going on with Everleigh and a death draught on the loose, my heart is tight.

  “What, tell me.”

  “The King is dead.”

  “What?” I cannot believe it. “How? Old age, his heart?” I clutch at a reasonable explanation, after all the King is not a young man any more.

  “Poison. That’s what the guards are saying.”

  “What else are they saying.”

  “That the Kingmaker’s death day might be brought forwards, that an enemy must be at the castle.”

  “I bet.�
� This was unthinkable, so everyone would be panicking and gossiping, fretting, working out their allegiances, mourning.

  After he leaves I make up my mind. I am quick enough. I will be at the castle in no time. Halfreda will know what the truth of it all is.

  But a cold and prickly fear takes over my whole body. I don’t need a fire or a dream to tell me what I already know.

  Macsen has used the death draught.

  And he has used it against his own father. I run to my garden and am sick all over one of my flower beds. I cannot hold it in, I have done this.

  I should have told him that I had not heard of a death draught, or that I didn’t have the skill to make one, or I had no idea where to find one. I should have let him find someone else to get it for him.

  Now I am embroiled in this game, and I want no part of it.

  The guilt will eat me up I know it. It might kill me yet. What will become of me? As guilty and as much a murderer as the man who unscrewed the lid of the vial and gave it to his father. I am guilty.

  I take a sip of tonic, rinse out my mouth and spit it away, then I drink the rest of it down. I need it. I fetch my cloak and I head to the castle. If this is true; and I know that it is. Halfreda will need all the help she can get. So will Everleigh.

  21

  HALFREDA HAS TO CHANGE all of Will’s dressings, despite the stitches, the blood has started to seep through. She cleans him up, adds fresh herbs and dresses his wounds again. His heart is beating clearly and his breathing is strong, but he has yet to open his eyes.

  Everleigh has drunk all her tonic and is pacing the room. “How’s he doing?”

  Halfreda shakes her head. “It’s too early to say. He’s breathing and his heart is beating. That’s good. He’s not conscious. That’s not good. Time will tell.”

  There’s a quiet knock at the door. They all jump up; Archer has his sword out.

  “Halfreda, it’s me,” Ginata calls out.

  Halfreda goes to the door and opens it. Ginata looks upset. “Is it true?”

  Halfreda nods as she moves out of the way to let Ginata in the room. She pauses when she sees Everleigh and Archer.

  She curtseys.

  Everleigh waves a hand at her. “You don’t need to do that.”

  Ginata nods and then her eyes fall on Will. “What’s happened?” She knows who Will is, though she doesn’t know him personally.

  Halfreda explains the night’s events, from the King’s death to the attempted murder of Everleigh and how Will took her place, sacrificed himself for his friend.

  Ginata sits next to him, on the floor. “You’ve done well, Halfreda. He’ll live.”

  “Really?” Old age and upset are clouding Halfreda’s vision even more than usual and she can’t see what will happen in the next five minutes, let alone in the long run.

  Everleigh touches Ginata’s shoulder. “Really? He will live?”

  She nods. “Yes. I see him.”

  Everleigh closes her eyes in relief.

  “Everleigh, I have to tell you something.” Ginata’s voice is quiet. “I am the one who gave your brother the death draught.”

  “What!” Archer shoots up from his chair. “What a stupid bloody thing to do.”

  Ginata shrinks back from his fury, but Everleigh puts her hand out to Archer.

  “Archer. My brother killed his own father. Do you believe he would have hesitated to kill Ginata?”

  Archer sits down, refusing to answer, but scowling over at Ginata.

  “It was stupid; I am so sorry.”

  “It wasn’t stupid, Ginata, it was necessary. And if you hadn’t given him that he would have found another way to kill my father. He would have just put a sword through him. Why didn’t he just put a sword through him? Why did he want the draught?”

  Halfreda moves in front of Everleigh and takes her hands. “We believe he wanted the draught for Saturday. We think he was going to use it in the cup of blood to kill Millard and become King. We knew that he would test it, but assumed it would be on a cat or a dog. We never imagined he would kill your father. When he found out from Lanorie that you would live, we think that’s when he decided to get rid of you. That might have been when he decided to kill your father too. We don’t know.”

  Everleigh shakes her head. This thirst for power has been brewing in Macsen for longer than she thought. And of course, him being willing to kill Millard was no big surprise now but she would never have guessed at it.

  “So now what?” Ginata looks at them all, even Archer, who still looks furious with her.

  “We are going to go along with his plan. I will say that I have found Everleigh dead from such awful stab wounds that I have wrapped her ready to be laid on the island. We’re going to fetch Everleigh’s maid Lanorie to back up the lie.”

  “Even though she’s the one who told Everleigh’s secret. She’s the reason Macsen tried to kill her,” Archer pipes up from his chair, still looking disgruntled, cross with everyone.

  Ginata is nodding as she listens to their plans. “Good idea. Then what?”

  “We think he’ll want to be crowned on Saturday.”

  “But won’t you have to do that for him, Halfreda?”

  Halfreda nods. As the wise woman of the castle, she performs all ceremonies. Macsen will need her to crown him.

  “With the King dead and Everleigh dead, it will fall on Macsen to become King as the first-born son. It’s not happened in the Realm for over five hundred years; the last time a Kingmaker died before her death day she took ill of the plague two years before she would have been sacrificed, and so we had no blood to crown or kill. The eldest son can do it, but it wasn’t a successful reign. Many would argue that the wrong King was crowned, without the magic of the Kingmaker’s blood.”

  “Well I already know that Macsen will be a terrible King.” Everleigh is veering between feeling broken hearted that her brother has betrayed the family and furious that he would dare try to usurp her before the crown is even on her head.

  “So Halfreda, you’ll have to pretend everything is alright?”

  Halfreda nods. This will be difficult to achieve. The sorrow in her heart is overwhelming. How could the boy she knew turn into a man like this?

  Feeling better that they have a plan, Everleigh turns to Ginata. “Will you stay with Halfreda while we fetch Lanorie?”

  “What if someone sees you, princess? You’re meant to be dead.”

  Ginata takes off her cloak and passes it to Everleigh, who quickly puts it on.

  “Thank you. We’ll be careful. I have to face her, though.”

  “Be safe.”

  “You too.”

  Lanorie

  IT IS WORSE THAN I could have thought. I was ready to leave, all cried out. I stole quietly across the courtyard, desperate not to be seen by anyone, and I saw Everleigh with Archer. He was carrying Will. I was close to them but hidden in the shadows. Then I saw Halfreda join them and then I heard the worst news.

  My heart has all but stopped.

  I set a terrible plot in motion when I told my friend about Everleigh. I didn’t know what would happen. I can’t be blamed, but I know I can be and I am to blame.

  Macsen.

  I can’t believe what he’s done. I thought he was a good one. Cook always thought he was daft.

  We were both wrong.

  From the sounds of it he has murdered his own father and tried to murder his own sister.

  Will must have stepped in to save Everleigh. He is a better friend than I am.

  She deserves more than me, better than I have done for her.

  I flee back to my room, off the kitchen, ignoring Cook as she calls to me. I slam the door and stand with my back to it. I cannot breathe.

  The King is dead because of me.

  Will is dead because of me.

  Macsen tried to kill Everleigh because of me.

  I am the cause of all the trouble here tonight.

  It hits me then that the Realm will be a be
tter place without me in it.

  I listen at the door, I know Cook will be in and out with the ball still going on; dancing makes people hungry. It is busy in the kitchen; it’s probably why she didn’t chase after me. She’s barking orders and sounds so stressed out.

  I wonder if she knows about the King yet.

  It’s all gone quiet. I risk a look. The kitchen is empty.

  I know where she keeps sleeping draughts to add to tea or ale if any of the family can’t sleep and I know where she keeps the ale; I’ve watched her enjoy a tipple often enough. And haven’t I shared plenty with her too? I am hoping that a good bit of ale and plenty of sleeping draughts might end this world for me.

  Everything’s gone wrong and I can’t stand it anymore. If I mix enough of the two of them, I can end it all.

  I don’t want to live with what I’ve done.

  I can’t.

  22

  ARCHER LEADS THE WAY to the kitchen, and Everleigh skulks behind him. She can’t be seen but she must be the one who speaks to Lanorie. The cloak is wrapped tightly around her and she stoops a little so her height is altered.

  The two of them tuck next to the kitchen door, there are too many people in there; and they need to go through it.

  They wait in the cold, the night air still but biting. Everleigh tucks her hands in the cloak and stands closer to Archer.

  A few minutes later Cook bustles across the courtyard and into the kitchen and they duck out of sight, seconds later she leaves again, carrying a big platter, a troop of serving girls following her with plates and dishes. The smell is wonderful. Taking a chance, they rush into the kitchen, relieved to find it empty. Everleigh knocks but doesn’t wait for Lanorie to answer. She opens the door.

  “Archer, quick.” Everleigh runs to Lanorie’s side. She’s lying on the floor, a cup of ale at her side, and a pouch of sleeping draughts next to that. She is unconscious, but breathing.