Quintana of Charyn

  Lirah and Gargarin seemed surprised.

  ‘Yes, yes. Good times, indeed. I spent most of the trip with my head over the side vomiting.’ Froi nodded. ‘True. And then we came round the straits and travelled upriver into Yutlind Sud and the spirit warriors attacked and killed our crew and wounded Finn, who would have died if it wasn’t for Isaboe … well, Evanjalin. She begged for his life.’ Froi sighed. ‘I miss those days.’

  ‘What a ridiculous story,’ Lirah said.

  ‘It’s true!’ he laughed.

  They stood among the fishermen, watching them store the writhing eels in barrels of salt. One of the men held out a basket of strange shells to them and Gargarin took a handful and broke one open, slurping the slug-like substance down his throat. Froi nearly gagged to watch him. Gargarin offered one to Lirah, who seemed just as disgusted.

  ‘It’s an ormer,’ he said, laughing. ‘The look on both your faces is priceless. Go on,’ he said, offering one to Froi.

  ‘I’d rather eat dirt.’

  Gargarin laughed again, and there was something so normal about them all being together.

  They arrived back at their inn early that evening, still laughing about the strength of Gargarin’s stomach after his consumption of some of the vilest food Froi had ever seen.

  ‘Morsels,’ Gargarin corrected as they climbed the steps to their room. Froi stopped suddenly, holding up a hand to silence them both. They waited and heard the creak of the floorboards above. Theirs was the only room up these final steps, and he silently retrieved a dagger and crept up to the top where the door of their room was slightly ajar. He turned back to the others, holding up his hand again to still them, and seconds later he kicked open the door and came face to face with De Lancey, the Provincaro of Sebastabol, and their guards.

  ‘Bit dramatic, these Lumaterans,’ De Lancey murmured, getting to his feet. ‘Gar!’ he called out.

  Gargarin and Lirah appeared at the top of the steps looking slightly hesitant. De Lancey stepped out onto the landing to greet them. ‘Promise you’ll agree to everything, Gar,’ he said quietly.

  ‘I won’t promise anything at all until I hear what you have to offer and you agree to what I want,’ Gargarin replied.

  Inside the room, the Provincaro of Sebastabol looked slightly uncomfortable in so small a space.

  ‘We’ll make this brief, Gargarin,’ he said.

  ‘Please do.’

  ‘Quintana of Charyn will be referred to as the Queen and will raise her child in the palace.’

  Froi felt hopeful, but when his eyes caught De Lancey’s, the Provincaro looked away.

  ‘She will hold no power, of course,’ the Provincaro of Sebastabol said. ‘And she will be wed to the right consort when she’s settled in the palace with the child. A man of title, but not a Charynite. We must let nothing divide the provinces and there must not be an imbalance of power in the palace. This consort will provide guidance and stability in the life of the King if it’s a boy she births. If it’s a girl, let’s hope that if she succeeded the first time, she … the Queen can do it again with the man she is wed to.’

  Froi could hardly breathe. He always knew it would come to this, but it shattered him to hear the words that some other man would raise his son and father another child of Quintana’s.

  ‘The little King, if one is to be born, will be instructed by a regent until the age of fifteen. A regent unaffiliated to any province. When he comes of age, the little King will take control of Charyn. Until that time, decisions on how to run this kingdom will be made by the Provincari together. They will each have an ambassador living in the palace … to keep an eye on things.’

  De Lancey still refused to meet any of their eyes and Froi knew the worst was yet to come.

  ‘We will have no control over the Oracle’s godshouse, but hope that the union between the palace and the godshouse will be strong,’ the Provincaro of Sebastabol continued. ‘We believe this is possible if Arjuro of Abroi is made Head Priest of the gods-house and you, Gargarin, are the regent of the little King.’

  Gargarin was silent.

  ‘Take time to think it over,’ the Provincaro of Sebastabol said. ‘You’ll be staying a while, I presume.’

  Gargarin nodded. ‘We’ll speak soon, then.’

  The Provincaro shook Gargarin’s hand and walked to the door.

  ‘One more thing,’ the man said.

  ‘There’s always one more thing,’ Gargarin muttered and they waited.

  ‘Most agreed … that the Serker whore is prohibited from living in the palace, regardless of her motherly ties to the Queen.’

  The only relief Froi felt at the Provincaro’s words was that no one suspected the strange circumstances of Quintana and Froi’s birth. As far as the kingdom was concerned, Lirah had birthed Quintana, not the Oracle Queen.

  ‘It was you who gave us that idea, Gargarin,’ the Provincaro said. ‘We will be teaching our people new ways and it’s best that we teach them a whore did not beget their queen. We will show our neighbouring kingdoms that our palace is not a place of ill repute. So that one day they’ll forget. A whore has no place in a palace.’

  Froi flew at the man, but was pulled away and held down by the guards. The room was silent except for the sound of Froi’s own breathing, rasping with fury.

  ‘You take back calling Lirah a whore,’ Gargarin said, his tone ice-cold.

  ‘They were not my words,’ the Provincaro said. ‘I was merely repeating –’

  ‘Then use your own words, coward,’ Gargarin said.

  The Provincaro of Sebastabol shook his head with regret. ‘Lirah of Serker will not live in the palace. I’ve said my piece.’

  He walked out with his guard. De Lancey looked at his men and signalled for them to wait outside. He closed the door behind them and turned to face the others. At least he looked contrite.

  ‘Gargarin, take the deal or they’ll give it to the next man.’

  ‘There is no next …’ Gargarin stared at De Lancey and Froi saw the Provincaro of Paladozza look away uncomfortably.

  ‘What?’ Froi asked, looking from one to the other. ‘Who’s the next man?’

  De Lancey winced. ‘We have no choice if Gargarin says no. Avanosh is neutral, and whoever acts as regent cannot have ties to any of the provinces.’

  ‘Vinzenzo of Avanosh?’ Gargarin asked.

  ‘What?’ Froi shouted, looking at De Lancey for confirmation. But the Provincaro’s silence said it all. ‘No,’ Froi shouted. ‘Never.’

  ‘They are even willing to make an agreement with Bestiano to keep Charyn stable and safe from Belegonia and any other kingdom ready to cross our borders.’

  ‘You’d agree to any of those pigs raising the boy, De Lancey?’ Gargarin asked.

  ‘Careful, Gargarin,’ the Provincaro of Paladozza warned, his eyes flickering to Froi. ‘You’re sounding like the future King’s grandfather. His shalamon.’

  Gargarin’s stare was deadly.

  ‘That type of talk is dangerous, De Lancey.’

  ‘Is that a threat?’

  ‘Not a threat, but say it out loud again and I may have to turn it into one.’

  ‘Take the deal, Gargarin,’ De Lancey said, his voice tired. ‘I’ll make provisions for Lirah. She’ll have a home in Paladozza. She’ll want for nothing.’

  ‘I’ll want for everything,’ Lirah cried out with bitterness, speaking for the first time. ‘And what will I have to give you in return, De Lancey? Will I be a gift to visiting Provincari and their sons?’

  De Lancey was taking aback by the words and Froi saw fury in his expression.

  ‘You’re getting older, Lirah,’ he said cruelly. ‘You may not be what they want anymore.’

  Gargarin shoved him and although Froi wanted to beat De Lancey black and blue, he knew the Provincaro had spoken the words out of hurt. Froi didn’t know how he came to that realisation. All he knew was that pain placed the wrong words into their mouths. All of them. Forces outside their con
trol had destroyed the lives and friendships and loves of De Lancey and Lirah and Arjuro and Gargarin long ago, and now even the future would keep them apart.

  ‘You never trusted me, Gar,’ De Lancey accused. ‘I was never good enough for the brothers from Abroi.’

  ‘You were the first person I went to upon my release. The first,’ Gargarin said.

  ‘And what did you tell me?’ De Lancey asked. ‘Half-truths. About a dead child, but you made no mention of the living. Was that punishment, Gargarin? For betraying Ari all those years ago?’

  ‘You mistake me for another, De Lancey,’ Gargarin shouted. ‘You mistake me for yourself. You’re the one who never forgave yourself. That was your weakness and that was why I couldn’t trust you with the truth of the lastborn. Because as long as you live, you will never, ever forgive yourself.’

  ‘I curse the day you and your brother came into my life,’ De Lancey said. ‘I curse it. Go hide in your caves and punish anyone who cares for you. It’s what Arjuro’s done for all these years. You care about no one but yourselves.’

  ‘He wasn’t hiding!’ Gargarin said.

  ‘Gargarin,’ Froi warned, standing between the two men, knowing this was not the time for De Lancey to know the truth.

  ‘Arjuro was trapped inside Lumatere, De Lancey,’ Gargarin said, pushing Froi out of the way. ‘That’s what he hid from us. Nothing else. Arrested by our army, who mistook him for me. A traitor. The word carved on his body as if he was a rump of mutton. Chained in a Lumateran prison for ten years believing he was forsaken.’

  Froi was tired of seeing the broken spirits of men and women. He finally understood the curse of Isaboe and Finn, weighed down by the grief of their people. It wasn’t just a curse that belonged to his queen. It was Froi’s curse to feel the sorrow of these people. Blood sings to blood, he had been told all that time ago by Rafuel. Charyn blood sang to Froi, but it was Charynites’ pain that gnawed at him. He saw it on De Lancey’s face now. It was as though he had aged in seconds and Froi wished Grij were here to take care of his father. Grij and Tippideaux would know what to do.

  He saw regret appear briefly on Gargarin’s face. ‘Let’s talk in the morning,’ he said quietly. ‘When our words aren’t dipped in poison.’

  De Lancey nodded listlessly. ‘Yes,’ he said, opening the door and stumbling out to where his men stood. ‘We’ll talk in the morning.’

  Froi woke to murmuring. He was used to Gargarin and Lirah’s murmuring. These past few nights it had lulled him into a strange, peaceful sort of sleep: the first he had had since he lost Quintana.

  ‘… I don’t know, but he’s hiding something,’ he heard Gargarin say. ‘I know De Lancey.’

  ‘You think he can’t be trusted?’ Lirah asked.

  ‘I didn’t say that. But what if it’s not in his power to support us, Lirah? Regardless of how strong Paladozza is and how quickly they can go to ground, they’ve not had an army ever. I respected his decision for so long, but not these past months. He should have raised an army the moment those street lords took the Citavita, but he didn’t. That was weakness and a mistake, and we can’t trust ourselves with a man who makes mistakes.’

  Lirah sighed. ‘That may be, but only you can take Quintana and the babe safely back to the palace.’

  ‘Do you honestly think I’m going to let you go?’ he whispered and Froi heard pain in his voice.

  ‘Listen to me,’ she said firmly. ‘We may doubt and question the truth, and entertain the horror that Quintana’s child may belong to Bestiano, but you know the gods have done something right here. That babe belongs to Dafar. And if you allow another man to raise our blood, I will never forgive you.’

  And at that moment Froi was never so sure. Regardless of his constant fury at Gargarin, there was no other man he wanted taking care of Quintana and the little King.

  ‘You’re the smartest man I know,’ Lirah said fiercely. ‘If you can’t find a way of placing my grandson in my arms or sharing my bed without the Provincari knowing, then you are as big an idiot as the rest of them.’

  Gargarin made a sound of frustration. ‘I’m not agreeing to anything … yet. If I never have to step inside the palace again, I’ll be the happiest man alive. But I’ll meet De Lancey in the morning to see if we can come to an agreement.’

  Lirah was silent a moment.

  ‘Ask the boy what he thinks when he wakes.’

  ‘He’ll only say yes to anything I suggest!’ Froi heard the irritation in Gargarin’s voice. ‘I need him to be sure. Not compliant. He’s lost faith in himself, Lirah.’

  Froi froze. Despite his attempt to stay quiet, he was desperate to get out of the room because he needed to breathe. He stumbled to his feet, tripping over his bedroll, and climbed onto the balcony. Despite the icy wind from the ocean, he sat down, smarting at the words he had just heard.

  A short while later he heard a sound behind him and Gargarin was there.

  ‘Lirah said to go back inside,’ he said. They both had a habit of doing that. Saying Lirah said … Gargarin said.

  Froi didn’t respond.

  ‘We thought you were asleep, Froi –’

  ‘I don’t want to hear it,’ Froi snapped.

  There was silence and he wasn’t sure whether Gargarin was still there.

  ‘If you had stayed in Paladozza, the Avanosh lot would have taken her. She would have ended up in Sorel. Or being used as some bargaining tool.’

  ‘Why are you telling me this?’ Froi asked, looking back at him angrily. ‘To make me feel better about my lack of faith in myself?’

  Gargarin rubbed a palm over his eyes with frustration.

  ‘I’m telling you because you’re punishing yourself over and over again. You caught eight barbs in your body to keep her safe, Froi. That’s enough.’

  ‘I lost her.’ Froi was on his feet. ‘Do you understand? I lost her. Tariq would never have lost her.’

  ‘Tariq would never have left that cave in the Citavita. You take chances, Froi. When you were five years old you went out into that filthy Sarnak capital and survived. Let’s pray to the gods that Quintana listened to everything you had to teach her.’

  Froi shook his head with frustration.

  ‘We could look at the side of wonder,’ Gargarin said.

  ‘What?’ Froi asked, as if Gargarin had gone insane.

  ‘Well, let’s say that instead of losing her, you gave her a chance to escape,’ Gargarin explained. ‘That’s the side of wonder.’

  Froi heard a sound behind them and Lirah was there.

  ‘Since when do you look at the side of wonder?’ Froi asked.

  ‘I’m trying very hard,’ Gargarin said, scowling. ‘It’s irritating me, but I’m not giving up. I try to think of a wondrous thought every day when I wake, if you’d really like to know.’

  ‘Yes, it’s very annoying, but slightly contagious,’ Lirah said.

  Froi couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

  ‘It’s true,’ Gargarin said. ‘And now even Lirah is saying, “Let’s look at the side of wonder as opposed to the disastrous.”’

  Froi wondered if they were mocking him.

  ‘Lirah?’ he asked, looking up at her. ‘You are the least wondrous-thinking person I’ve ever met.’

  Lirah looked irritated. ‘Well, if you’d really like to know, I used to skip as a child and collect poppies. Sometimes I think deep down there’s an idiot inside of me who wants to laugh.’

  For some ridiculous reason, Froi wanted to laugh now.

  ‘Do you want to know this morning’s wondrous thought according to Gargarin?’ she asked. Gargarin looked uncomfortable.

  Lirah stood before Froi and held a hand to his face. ‘He said, “Well, at least the three of us are together.”’

  Froi was silent and then gazed at Gargarin, who merely shrugged as if to admit guilt at such a ridiculous thought. Hope. Hope. Hope. Rothen of Nebia had written it on his grandfather’s ceiling. Froi saw the hope in Gargarin’s eyes. He
imagined a time when Arjuro would be with them. And Quintana. And the babe. Could they endure anything if they were together?

  ‘You want a decision?’ Froi asked.

  Gargarin’s mood changed in an instant. He nodded solemnly. ‘Yes, I do.’

  ‘We’re nothing without an army. The Queen of Lumatere’s greatest accomplishment in exile was reuniting Trevanion with Finn and his men to take back Lumatere. I saw it. We walked into death camps and exile camps and the moment the Lumaterans saw Trevanion and the Guard they’d follow us in an instant. I say we go to Serker.’

  Lirah looked surprised.

  ‘When I was with Tariq, he spoke of an army in the centre of the land,’ Froi said. ‘I’ve dreamt of him often these nights. It’s a sign.’

  ‘I’ll speak to De Lancey –’

  ‘De Lancey’s a weakness,’ Froi said flatly. ‘Your news about Arjuro’s imprisonment will slow him down. We go now.’

  Isaboe heard the sound of the horses and knew Finnikin had returned.

  ‘My queen,’ Rhiannon said, and there was a reprimand in her lady’s-maid’s voice. ‘You know it’s best to come out here. They’re approaching … and he’s sneezing.’

  Finnikin and Isaboe had observed a ritual ever since they moved into the palace. She’d wait in the courtyard to welcome him if he had been away for more than a day or two. He said it was the first thing he looked for. It meant he was truly home.

  Isaboe finished the document she was preparing for the Sarnaks and put down her pen, joining Rhiannon on the balcony. And there he was and her heart pounded. All of these years and her heart still pounded out of control at the sight of him. She had felt it that day in Sendecane almost four years past when she first saw him in the cloister. He had an irritated expression on his face when he discovered she was a girl. Even as a child when her brother and cousin would insist on dragging her around to be part of their mischief her heart would beat hard at the sight of Finnikin of the Rock.

  Today she watched him hunched over his horse, sneezing into his kerchief.

  ‘He looks quite ill,’ Rhiannon said. ‘He’s always so … needy when he’s ill.’