Froi of the Exiles (42 page)

The second rider was nervous, staring from the women to Froi. Dorcas looked at Froi uneasily, a film of perspiration on his brow.

‘Search him again,’ he said.

‘Let him go,’ Quintana sighed, dismissing Froi with a wave of her hand. ‘He’s no threat to you or Bestiano. He was sent to end my life, not yours or my father’s. That is the truth. He admitted it to me himself.’

She stood and the riders stepped towards her. Fear was in the room. Even in Quintana’s eyes. Froi saw it there, combined with fury, and it was directed his way.

‘But I want to speak to him first,’ she said. ‘To say that although you’ve betrayed me, Lumateran, I want you to know that those gifts you left me in that little treasure chest with the fan bird etched in its stone are ones that I will always carry in my heart.’

Froi fought hard to conceal every thought that ran through his mind. Every emotion. The thrill and satisfaction that came with the knowledge of what she was trying to tell him.

He looked at Dorcas. He needed to buy time.

‘This is not my fight,’ he said after a pause.

Dorcas nodded, pleased. Relieved.

‘Good to hear. Don’t ever let me see you in these parts again, Lumateran.’

Froi turned to walk away and then stopped.

‘Can I …’ Froi looked down, pretending awkwardness. ‘Can I bid her farewell?’ He leaned close to Dorcas. ‘I did share her bed,’ he whispered, ‘and I did lose a bit of my heart to her. Or to one of those who live inside of her, anyway.’

Dorcas stared from Froi to Quintana and nodded. ‘Make it quick.’

Froi joined her where she stood beside the cot. He took her hands and felt where she had concealed the daggers he’d buried in the cave. He was impressed with the way the scabbards were perfectly placed.

‘Did I ever call you useless?’ he asked softly.

‘Three times,’ she said, her tone sour.

‘Three times, you say?’

‘Yes, we tend to count the amount of times we’re called useless by one person. Bestiano made mention of it thirty-seven times.’

‘My, my, you do have a good memory for details.’

She nodded. ‘And I do believe you referred to me as worthless moments ago.’

He rubbed her palm intimately and then placed his hands on both her shoulders, feeling the scabbard across her shoulder.

‘Their measurement of worth, Princess. Not mine.’

He leaned forward to press a kiss to her mouth. Regardless of the circumstances, she still moved her face slightly so his lips touched her cheeks instead.

‘You’ve lost that privilege,’ she said coolly.

‘Pity.’

Froi yanked the two daggers from her sleeve and hurled one at Zabat, catching him between the eyes, the other at the second rider’s thigh as he kicked the man’s sword from his hand and spun Quintana around to retrieve the short sword at her shoulders. He pushed her behind him, smashing Dorcas across the temple with the handle of the sword just as Lirah scrambled for a dagger. The third guard entered the cave, weapon raised, hesitating one moment too long as he stared at the body of the dead man and at Dorcas struggling to his feet. In an instant, Lirah had a sword pointed at the back of the man’s neck and Froi put a foot on Dorcas’s chest.

‘I’m going to regret not killing you,’ Froi said, looking down at him, ‘but it’s not in my bond to take your life.’

‘And it was in your bond to take his?’ Dorcas gasped, pointing to Zabat’s body.

‘Zabat has brought war to the edge of my kingdom. My bond is to destroy anyone who is a threat to Lumatere.’

Satisfied that the three riders were tied up securely, Froi stepped outside to where Quintana and Lirah stood. He whistled softly and listened for the whistle in return. They heard it and he followed the sound along the stream and up a path. Arjuro’s head suddenly appeared behind a twisted knot of shrubbery that concealed a low narrow entrance to a cave. Froi gently pushed Lirah before him, and turned only to see Quintana running.

From him.

Enraged, he tore after her, catching her on an incline, causing them both to tumble to the ground. He heard voices and Froi held a hand over her mouth as they tried to control their ragged breaths. He knew by the sound of the footsteps that there were two others circling.

‘Go check on Dorcas,’ he heard the rider closest to them say.

A caterpillar found its way across the rider’s boot and Froi watched Quintana’s finger reach out and softly brush its texture as if she’d never seen anything so strange before. Froi knew the moment she felt its sting, her eyes wide with shock. Forgetting his anger for a moment, he gripped her finger in his fist to soften the pain. When the riders walked away and they heard the last of their footsteps, Froi grabbed her hand and dragged her into the cave where the others hid.

When he was satisfied that the cave entrance was concealed by the shrubs and they were safe for the time being, he turned to where she sat huddled against the wall, her arms clasped around her knees, eyes fixed on Froi’s as if he was some fiend, rather than the one who had saved her life.

‘You could have got us killed,’ he whispered with anger. ‘All of us. You never run from me again. Do you hear?’

Lirah crouched beside Quintana. ‘Try to sleep,’ she murmured, but Quintana shook her head and whispered in Lirah’s ear, the whole time her eyes never leaving Froi’s.

‘No,’ Lirah said patiently, ‘I think you’re both safe for now.’

Through the night, Froi lay awake, listening for every snap of a twig or voice outside. He could see the outline of Quintana sitting up, felt her eyes boring into him. In the morning when a little light entered the cave, he found her seated exactly as she had been the night before, her eyes fixed on where he was.

‘I’m going to catch us something to eat,’ he muttered, and before the others could argue against it, he was gone.

T
hat day the base of the gravina swarmed with more riders. Although it seemed dangerous to catch a hare and risk the Charynites following the scent of it roasting, Froi caught two all the same, figuring that they’d have to eat them raw if they were hungry enough.

‘They know we’re here,’ he whispered to the others when he returned. ‘Their numbers seem to have doubled overnight.’

‘Perhaps they’re just passing through on their way to Jidia,’ Arjuro said.

‘They’re here to stay,’ Froi said flatly. ‘And so are we until they’re gone.’

‘I’ve found something.’ Gargarin’s voice came from the back of the cave and Froi followed, squeezing into the nook beside him.

Gargarin took Froi’s hand in the dark and pressed it around a small opening in the stone.

‘It could end the moment you crawl in, but it’s worth a try.’

‘These caves are supposed to lead to the steps of Jidia, Sir.’ Quintana’s voice was suddenly there at his shoulders.

‘The steps of Jidia are a myth,’ Gargarin said.

Froi poked his head inside the space, relieved for once that he wasn’t the size of a Lumateran river man. He climbed in and began to crawl.

‘Don’t go too far,’ he heard Gargarin order, and the words echoed over and over again.

He didn’t have to. The tunnel led to another cave that was darker by far, but it was a safer place for them to hide.

In their new home, Arjuro built a small fire. Quintana had returned to her indignant self, except when Froi dared to look at her, which produced a savage snarl.

‘Lirah mentioned that you managed to smuggle the assassin out of the palace all those years ago, Sir Gargarin,’ she said at one point during the night when they were trying to get some sleep. ‘Rather than toss him into the gravina with my first mother, the Oracle.’

It took Froi a moment to realise he was the assassin she was referring to. There was an uneasy silence at the bluntness of her words.

‘Who was it?’ Arjuro asked Gargarin, when no one spoke. ‘The babe who died that day?’

‘Later,’ Gargarin muttered from his bedroll, turning away.

‘Now,’ Arjuro said. ‘It’s been too long. I need the truth. So does Lirah.’

‘Now you need the truth?’ Gargarin said bitterly. ‘Later, I said.’ He stole a look at Quintana.

‘Are you waiting for us to sleep before you speak of it, Sir Gargarin?’ she asked, indignantly. ‘Because we can’t, you know. Sleep that is. Not with the assassin here, threatening us and the little King.’

‘Us? The little King?’ Froi said, looking at the others with disbelief. ‘Are you all hearing this?’

Lirah closed her eyes as though she had heard it one too many times.

‘The Princess claims … believes,’ she corrected herself, ’that she carries the first.’

Quintana made a clicking sound of annoyance with her tongue. ‘I explained to you, Lirah. I’m actually the Queen of Charyn. I was wed to King Tariq in his compound before they slaughtered him. When one is wed to the King they are given the title of Queen regardless of how powerless they remain. I do love a title.’

There was another uncomfortable silence. This time her attention was on Gargarin.

‘Is it true you murdered my first mother, the Oracle?’ she persisted.

Answer her
, Froi wanted to shout. So they didn’t have to hear her guileless voice speak of death and carnage.

When it was clear that there would be no sleep for any of them, Gargarin sat up.

‘I was handed a child that night said to have been birthed by the Oracle,’ he said.

‘It was the King who placed him in my arms. Told me that the babe would bring Charyn to its knees if he lived. That if I loved my king and believed in the gods, I would do as instructed. First, I was to toss the babe over the balconette into the gravina and then dispose of his dead mother in the same way. Better the people of the Citavita believe that the Oracle plunged to her own death than know she was defiled by the Serkers and died giving birth to an abomination.’

Froi could hardly breathe.

‘Of course we know now that the Oracle and the Priestlings were not attacked by the Serkers.’ Gargarin shook his head with bitterness. ‘To this day, I’ll never truly know what I would have done if fate had not stepped in.’

He looked at Lirah. ’You were my fate, Lirah. Firstly, because of your screams. I thought you were birthing your child, but now I know you were waking up with the Oracle’s daughter in your arms instead of the son you had seen. Your pain penetrated those walls and while the King and his guards left the chamber, I found myself alone with the child I was ordered to kill. Not a minute had passed when I heard a sound from the bed where the dead Oracle lay beneath the sheet. Dead from childbirth. Unbeknownst to the King and his men, between her thighs lay a second girl whose first breath had been her last.’

Froi saw a flash of pain cross his face.

‘There were three babes born in the palace that night. Lirah’s son and the Oracle’s twin daughters.’

Quintana rocked back and forth. Lirah was too stunned to offer her comfort and Arjuro looked so ill that Froi thought he’d throw up at any moment.

‘And as fate would have it again, strange lonely Rafuel came searching for one lost kitten to add to the litter in his basket. So I took my chance and placed the living child amongst them. Into the hands of an eight-year-old boy who had never known love except for those damned cats. Then I carried the Oracle and her dead child to the balconette and I gave the child a name. To my shame, I had no idea what the Oracle’s name was. All I prayed for was that you managed to call out her name to the gods, Arjuro, from where they had shackled you on the opposite balconette to watch. So that her spirit could find her child at the lake of the half-dead and take them both home.’

Arjuro shook his head. ‘Oracles didn’t have names. To call an Oracle by her name would make her human and we were never to see her as human.’

So the Oracle Queen and her dead child were to be separated for eternity.

Quintana’s face was transformed into an expression of sadness beyond belief. She shook her head. Froi couldn’t speak, could hardly breathe from knowing how close he had come to death the day he was born.

‘What did you name her?’ Lirah asked. ‘The dead babe?’

‘Regina,’ Gargarin said quietly. ‘The babe was the daughter of the Oracle Queen so I felt she deserved the name of royalty.’

Froi heard Arjuro’s sharp intake of breath. The Priestling’s eyes were fixed on Quintana with a mixture of horror and intrigue.

‘You were born first,’ Arjuro said quietly.

‘My son was born first,’ Lirah said. Froi noticed that both Lirah and Gargarin spoke about their son as though it was someone other than Froi.

‘But not
to
the palace,’ Arjuro continued. ‘He may have been born
in
the palace, but not to it. The only children fathered by the King belonged to the Oracle, the woman he violated the night he and his men slaughtered the Priestlings and blamed it on the Serkers.’

Arjuro’s eyes were still fastened on Quintana.

‘Two children would be born to the palace,’ he said. ’And the one born first would end his reign.’

Froi recognised the soothsayer’s words. The King’s dream.

‘How did you kill him?’ Arjuro asked Quintana quietly.

Froi saw Gargarin and Lirah’s confusion and felt his own. But Quintana seemed to know exactly what the Priestling was asking, for she neither argued, nor feigned innocence.

‘The Provincari said that the Guard searched you thoroughly,’ Arjuro continued.

‘Arjuro?’ Gargarin barked. ‘What are you saying?’

They waited and waited. But Arjuro refused to respond.

‘The assassin taught us how to kill a man in five seconds,’ Quintana said. ‘And the circumstances demanded that I did.’

‘Sagra!’ Froi said, stunned.

‘Where did you conceal the dagger?’ Arjuro asked. He stood and walked to where she sat upright against the wall and crouched before her. ‘Where?’

She leaned forward whispering, ‘I don’t want Lirah to hear this, blessed Arjuro.’

‘Why not?’ he whispered back, fascinated.

‘It will upset her. We don’t want to upset Lirah. I believe that the last time Lirah became upset, her Serker blood helped curse the kingdom.’

‘Arjuro will tell me anyway, Quintana,’ Lirah said.