The Kingmaker Complete Trilogy (The Kingmaker Trilogy #1-3) Read online

  Everleigh shakes her head, steps backwards. “I’m scared, Halfreda.”

  “I know Everleigh and all the Kingmakers who came before you were as well. The awful thing is, this tiny spark of hope I am showing you, may be extinguished as quickly as this fire could be.

  “Fate is fate and life is mapped out for us, Everleigh. If you are destined to die in less than a week, then there is nothing that I can or will do to help you. However, if this test shows you to be Queen, I will do everything necessary to keep you safe.”

  Halfreda takes Everleigh’s hands. “A Queen is a powerful woman, Everleigh. She can command the winds to howl and the seas to rise. She can make men fall in love with her with merely a glance. Men will die for their Queen, women will fight for first place in her affections and loyally serve her. A Queen can command men and mother nature. I need to test that command. That is how I will know if you are Kingmaker or Queen. What are you Everleigh? Who are you?”

  Everleigh shakes her head. “I don’t know any more, Halfreda. I can barely understand what you’re saying. Are you saying that I might live? That I might rule the Realm. What would happen to my father, to my brothers, to me?”

  Halfreda shakes her head. “Everleigh, you think too much. I want you to stand and I want you to command mother nature,”

  Everleigh shakes her head. “I can’t.”

  “You have to. Repeat after me: I am sixteen years old and I will die on the morning of my seventeenth birthday. As tradition dictates I will be sacrificed and my life’s blood will determine which one of my two brothers will be King. My blood will kill one and crown one. My name is Everleigh and I am the Kingmaker. Or am I? River rise. Rise for me. Rise for your Queen.”

  Everleigh shakes her head again. Halfreda nods and takes her hands. “Child, you must say it.”

  Everleigh finally nods. “I am sixteen years old and I will die on the morning of my seventeenth birthday. As tradition dictates I will be sacrificed and my life’s blood will determine which one of my two brothers will be King. My blood will kill one and crown one. My name is Everleigh and I am the Kingmaker. Or am I? River rise. Rise for me. Rise for your Queen.”

  The sun peaks through a cloud. The river is bathed in light. The flames of the fire that Halfreda made start rushing.

  The wind is howling.

  The river is rising.

  Everleigh steps away from Halfreda and looks at the water.

  “Child, keep telling the river to rise.”

  Everleigh says it again. Her voice rising with each command. “Rise, rise, rise,”

  Halfreda stands watching the water.

  The water is rising. The river is doing as it is told. Everleigh keeps saying it. “Rise, rise, rise.”

  The river is rising. The wind is whirling, leaves are dancing, and the flames are leaping. “Rise, rise, rise.” With each command, Everleigh’s voice rises, strong and clear. “Rise. Rise. Rise.”

  The river does as it is bid. It rises and rises and rises. Everleigh’s eyes widen and Halfreda’s face splits in to an ecstatic smile.

  The river continues to rise and rise until it rushes over the top of the whole island. It puts out Halfreda’s magical fire and fills the tiny boat to the top. It washes over Everleigh and Halfreda’s feet. The bottom of their dresses and cloaks are drenched. Halfreda laughs out loud, the sound stolen by the rushing winds and the roaring river.

  “Child, call it down, tell it to retreat.”

  Everleigh smiles. “River, stop. Retreat.” Her words are but a whisper and yet the river listens. The water quickly drops back to its normal level.

  Halfreda locks eyes with Everleigh and drops to her knees on the wet floor.

  “Queen.”

  Everleigh feels a rush of power and strength fill her body.

  “Stand up, Halfreda.”

  Halfreda stands. “Queen.” Halfreda takes Everleigh’s hands. “My Queen.”

  Halfreda

  I CANNOT BELIEVE IT and yet I know that I knew it.

  I took her back to her chamber and told her for the sake of her life she must keep her knowledge to herself until I decide what to do next.

  I begged her forgiveness for daring to tell a Queen what to do but I asked her to understand that we must keep her secret to keep her safe.

  I left her in front of a warm fire and I asked her maid, the one who doesn’t stop talking but who won’t look me in the eye, to get her food and wine and to let her sleep. I will excuse her from dining with the King; I will speak to him myself, though I will not tell him the reason for her absence.

  My heart is so peaceful now that I have done it. Of course, this is just the beginning. She has so many questions. She cannot understand what happened or why. She cannot believe her own powers. She cannot understand it at all.

  I have told her to keep our secret and sleep. I will come to her on the morrow with my plan.

  We cannot just announce to the King that the whole Realm will be turned on its head and the would-be Kings set aside for a Queen.

  A woman is no ruler he will say.

  And although he is right, he is wrong.

  This woman is.

  Everleigh is the next ruler of the Realm. She will be Queen.

  I just have to work out how.

  The teacher taught me well. He told me how to develop and use my powers, he guided me through turmoil and enlightened me to all that I could be, he told me of the prophecy and how important my job was.

  What he failed to do, however, was tell me what to do with this wondrous Queen once I had found her.

  The magic of the morning has not left me. I know true power when I see it. This girl that I have known from a suckling baby onwards is a Queen destined now.

  She spoke the words so hesitantly. She called the river to rise not really believing for a second that it would. And yet it did.

  The river rose and rose until it flowed over our very feet.

  The shock on her face was a picture.

  This girl who has known since she was five that she will die, has accepted that she will die, has lived her life knowing how quickly it would end, is now trying to understand that she will live.

  Not only will she live, she will rule.

  What a thing to try to comprehend.

  I am here to help her and guide her, though I wish I had my teacher with me to show me how. To help and guide me.

  I do not know what course of action to take.

  I have no one to help me understand the next steps.

  I have left her safe now and I will spend my day working it out.

  I have done one thing in readiness because I had an idea about this one, a feeling.

  I have called on one of the greatest fighters in the Realm – a shy boy who covers his face in jousts because he lacks both the confidence and arrogance to show his face.

  I have called him forward, because he is my kin, to help me keep the little Queen safe.

  I do not know what to do and I do not know what way the tide will turn.

  The King and the would-be Kings may not care for this turn of events. Not that they have much choice. The only way to ensure that she does not become Queen is to end her life. I need to make sure that doesn’t happen. That’s why I’ve called Archer to me.

  He arrived yesterday and is safe and well within the castle walls. The King does not know his identity or purpose and does not need to yet, but I will think on this tonight.

  I will light a fire and watch for an answer. It would be a terrible end to my life’s work of finding the true Queen, to find her and give her the hope of a future – a great and powerful future – only to have her killed under my nose, because I was not clever or wise enough to keep her safe.

  The biggest question is, now that I have found the Queen what will I do with her?

  5

  HALFREDA LEAVES EVERLEIGH in her chamber with Lanorie and a promise to keep quiet about what has happened at the river.

  Everleigh is quiet but her mind i
s full of what has happened. She keeps seeing it in her mind’s eye; the river rising up and up and up until it ran over the whole island and wet her feet.

  But at the same time, she can’t stop believing that she will die soon and accept that she might live and rule. It’s too much of a jump. She is the Kingmaker and she is going to die in less than a week.

  Lanorie puts an arm on her shoulder, “Are you well, princess?”

  Everleigh turns to her friend and her maid. Will Lanorie call her Queen one day? She cannot imagine her saying the words.

  “I’m tired. My walk wore me out and I didn’t sleep well.”

  “Shall I do what, um, Halfreda said and get you some food and drink. Or would you feel better going down to the hall, seeing your father and brothers?”

  Everleigh shakes her head. If they see her now they will know that something is amiss – especially Macsen. He is the closest to her, apart from Addyson and she is too little to read how anybody feels.

  “No, I’ll eat here. Please. I want a fire lit. I want a bath made up. And a drink. Then I will sleep and then I will eat.”

  Lanorie nods. “If you’re sure.”

  Everleigh nods. And thinks again about the river. She is used to every person in the castle following her commands; she is a princess and a Kingmaker. She must be obeyed. She isn’t bossy, she never asks too much, or rudely, but she is waited on by everyone.

  If she wants a fire she gets one lit for her. When she is hungry or thirsty, at any time of the night or day, food or drink is brought to her. Baths are made for her; her hair and body are washed for her. Her hair is brushed for her. She is literally helped in to her clothes.

  How different, though, to command a river. She has never known or seen anyone do that. She wonders if her father, the King, can do it. She would have to ask him.

  But what would happen now? Was it true? Was she to live?

  Everleigh shakes her head. How could all that she knows about herself and her destiny be wrong? She is the Kingmaker. She just is. She had learned the truth of it and accepted it a very long time ago. How could it not be the case anymore?

  It just wasn’t possible. She knew what she had seen at the river but there had to be a mistake. There had to be some other explanation.

  She was the Kingmaker. She always had been. Like her aunt before her.

  She would die and either Macsen or Millard would be King.

  But then if she lived, so would they. But would they even want her to live and steal the crown from one of them?

  Everleigh starts pacing her chamber. She wants to scream and shout and question Halfreda. But although Halfreda had bowed to her and named her Queen, when Everleigh had asked her what was next, she hadn’t been able to answer.

  If Halfreda didn’t know, how could she?

  Everleigh paces and paces her thoughts like so many birds flying around in an enclosed room. Her thoughts are in a frenzy and she doesn’t know what to do about them.

  There is a knock at the door.

  “Come in,” she calls. One of the little maids comes in with a jug of wine and a cup. She pours a cup full then curtsies and leaves.

  Everleigh drains it in one long mouthful and pours another. There’s another knock at the door. “Come in,” she says, and another little maid comes in, this one to make up the fire.

  Everleigh smiles at her and then walks to the window with her drink. The day is crisp and clear, but she is ready to sleep it away. Her mind is full of questions and she has nobody that she can speak to about it.

  She has promised Halfreda she will keep it a secret until she decides what to do next.

  The problem is that women are not rulers. Men rule and women serve. Women bear children, and do as they are bid, firstly by their fathers and then by their husbands.

  How can she be Queen? How can her father, her brothers, the whole of the Realm accept her destiny? Won’t they just kill her anyway?

  Everleigh doesn’t know what to do. She drains the wine and pours another. This time she sits in front of the fire with it, watching the flickering flames. This serves to remind her of her morning at the river, when the river she called to rise swirled right over Halfreda’s fire and put it out.

  She must be Queen if she could command mother nature. But could she command men?

  No woman has ever been Queen in her own right and commanded men.

  There is a tap at the door and Lanorie comes in. She has two little maids behind her with jugs of hot water. It will take an age to fill the bath.

  Everleigh calls Lanorie to the window. “Did you enjoy your morning off?”

  Lanorie nods, smiling. “I had a sleep. I hid from Cook or she wouldn’t have let me.”

  Everleigh laughs. “She better not find out.”

  Lanorie shakes her head. “I know all the hiding places. How was your walk? You seem a bit...” Lanorie can’t seem to find the word she wants.

  Everleigh smiles. She wants to tell Lanorie but doesn’t know if she can trust her. Lanorie has been with her since she was seven and now she is fourteen. That’s seven years of spending most of her time with Everleigh. She dresses her and bathes her; she fetches her food and drink. She sews with her and talks with her. She walks out with her and rides a horse alongside her. They share so many things. Could they share this?

  Everleigh smiles and puts her hand on Lanorie’s arm. “We’re friends, aren’t we?”

  Lanorie nods. She is younger than Everleigh but she is her maid and her friend both. They laugh together and talk about so many things.

  “I want to tell you something that happened today,” Everleigh says. Lanorie straightens up and smiles. “Ooh?”

  Everleigh shakes her head. “No, it’s important. And serious.” Everleigh lowers her voice, glancing at the two little maids. They went out to fetch more water. “And a secret.”

  Lanorie’s eyes widen. “A secret?”

  Everleigh nods. Is this wise? A Queen needs to be wise.

  Lanorie moves closer to her. “You can trust me,”

  “I met Halfreda at the river this morning. She told me about a prophecy,”

  Lanorie wrinkles her nose, a confused look on her face.

  Everleigh explains: “A prophecy – something foretold by someone wise, someone with the sight. Like they have seen something that will come true. The prophecy is that one Kingmaker will not die.” Lanorie’s eyes widen even more at this, though Everleigh can see the doubt written on her face. “They will live and they will rule. As Queen. She wanted to test me to see if I was that Kingmaker. If I would be Queen.”

  Lanorie’s mouth is open now. “What happened?” Her voice is but a whisper.

  “She asked me to command the river to rise.” Everleigh smiles; it’s good to relive the power she had felt.

  “Did you ask? Did it rise? Oh, my goodness.” Lanorie has a hand on her heart now.

  Everleigh laughs. “Lanorie, I did, I told the river to rise. And it did. It rose and rose until it covered the whole island and put out the fire that Halfreda had lit.”

  “Princess?” Lanorie is pale.

  “Lanorie, I did it. I am the one. I will be Queen.”

  Saying it makes Everleigh feel excited. She won’t die, she will live. She won’t just live, she will rule.

  “Queen?” Lanorie looks as though she might faint.

  “Lanny, you mustn’t tell anyone. Not Cook or anyone else. You must promise.”

  Lanorie nods quickly.

  Everleigh looks right in to her friend’s eyes. “Promise?”

  Lanorie nods again. “I promise.”

  Everleigh smiles. “Imagine me being Queen.” She laughs at the thought of it. How her life has changed. All in one morning.

  Ginata

  HALFREDA IS MY FIRST thought upon waking; always my first thought when I need help.

  Halfreda is the wisest woman I have ever met; reputation has it that she is the wisest woman the Realm has ever seen. She is known everywhere. She is far more le
arned and powerful than me, maybe than I will ever be.

  She has been at the castle since I have lived in my little cottage, and I usually visit her every week. She used to visit me when I was younger, in my little cottage, she knew my parents, I guess. They are no longer with me. They went to the Ashes many years ago.

  I can’t remember not knowing her.

  I have a lot to learn and she has a lot to teach me. She helps me with my craft and shares her knowledge with me.

  Often, we go out to the woods together to collect herbs for our medicines.

  She is a clever, clever woman.

  And I need her help now.

  Yesterday the cloaked man came to me and asked me for a death draught. As if I would even dare to keep one in my little cottage.

  How many men and women intent on revenge and filled with the immediate hatred that anger brings would eagerly break in to my little cottage and steal it from me?

  And in the heat of anger, an action can easily be taken that would lead to torment and regret. Even my poisons, and I have many, are prettily packaged up in little vials, tied with shiny ribbon and labelled as something else.

  Of course, the problem there can be someone stealing a love potion and ending up killing the very person they yearn for. Well that would be their just reward for stealing I suppose. But there are many things to think about when you offer people help and answers like I do.

  So Halfreda. I haven’t been to see her yet, but it’s my plan to. I slept fitfully, with awful dreams. I woke many times thinking I had heard a noise, seeing shadows that weren’t really there. This cloaked man has me spooked. I don’t like it. I have always been at peace.

  My little bag of coin lies on the table where I left it yesterday and there it sits watching me. Sitting in judgement on me, little bag of coin. Questioning whether I will sin or not. Is it really my sin to sell something to someone for the purpose of killing another or am I merely an innocent trader?

  After all a smith can make an axe that he knows will be used to chop off a man’s head. Does that make him a murderer?

  Or am I trying to justify something that I know is so wrong to make myself feel better for earning blood money?