Froi of the Exiles (41 page)

‘My man?’ Froi asked, confused.

‘That whining idiot, Zabat.’

‘With palace riders? Bestiano’s? You’re wrong.’

‘Not wrong at all,’ Gargarin retorted, as though he was never wrong. ‘First Dorcas entered with two riders. Then another rider arrived with Zabat. Zabat entered and I’ve not seen the three inside since.’

‘Zabat,’ Froi whispered again, trying to understand what Rafuel’s messenger was up to. ‘With Bestiano’s men?’

He thought a moment. He needed to get his short sword and daggers and then he would work out a way to speak to Zabat. ‘Follow me.’

Ensuring that the path was safe, they moved quickly down towards the rock marked with the fan bird. Froi lay on his stomach and squeezed his way to the rim of the cave. He felt around in the darkness, but there was nothing there.

‘My weapons,’ he called out to them, softly. ‘Someone’s taken them!’

He searched again, his hands patting every nook and cranny. Frustrated, he began to worm his way out.

‘Well at least you have the sword the keeper of the caves gave you,’ Arjuro said.

When he was out of the cave, Froi looked up at Arjuro with annoyance.

‘This?’ Froi snapped, clutching at the scabbard. ‘This is just a … a stick with a blade. Not a sword. Perri had my short sword and daggers made for me. With
Froi
engraved on them all.’

‘Well it’s a good thing they’re lost because
Froi’s
not exactly a name,’ Gargarin said. ‘It’s just a sound those imbeciles came up with.’

‘Yes, you’d think the Sarnaks would be able to say a word with more than one beat by now,’ Arjuro mused.

‘This coming from the idiot who named me
Nothing
,’ Froi snapped, jumping to his feet. ‘My weapons are missing,’ he hissed.

‘We heard you the first time,’ Gargarin said. ‘And that stick with a blade is going to have to do for the time being, because I doubt very much that Zabat and Bestiano’s men are meeting in our cave for an Arjuro/De Lancey inspired dalliance.’

‘You can’t be sure Lirah and the girl are in there,’ Arjuro said.

Gargarin didn’t respond, but his brow was creased as if trying to work out a riddle. After a moment Arjuro asked, ‘What?’

‘Why would Bestiano kill the King now of all times? What does he want from the Princess?’

‘What he’s always wanted from her,’ Froi said bitterly. ‘He believes she’s the vessel. She produces the heir and he can walk straight back into the palace with power.’

‘Then why didn’t he take her with him when he left the palace? If he planned to kill the King, why didn’t he plan to take the one he believed to be the vessel when she was right there in front of him?’

Froi shrugged and Arjuro waited for Gargarin’s explanation.

‘I think he was taken by surprise,’ Gargarin said. ‘I think someone else killed the King and Quintana was a witness to it all. Locked in that strange mad head is the truth.’

‘But how did Bestiano know she would be here?’ Froi asked.

‘The same way he knew where to find Tariq. He has spies,’ Gargarin said, a pained expression crossing his face, and Froi knew he was thinking of the slain heir. Perhaps Tariq was the son Gargarin always wanted.

‘Let’s presume that his men are secretly watching the flow of people coming over that bridge and there she is with Lirah. Not recognisable to the rest of Charyn, but certainly to the King’s riders who saw her every day. So they follow her down here.’

Froi went to crawl back into the rock to search for his weapons a third time. If he was to release Quintana and Lirah he would need them. Gargarin grabbed him by the scruff of his neck.

‘The weapons aren’t there!’ Gargarin snapped. ‘Do you think they’ll appear like magic?’

‘Then I’ll have to go in and speak to the riders unarmed. They won’t kill me –’

‘Of course they will.’

‘They won’t,’ Froi argued. ‘I’m Lumateran. The last thing they want is for the Lumaterans to invade.’

Arjuro made a scoffing sound. ‘You think Lumatere will invade because of you? Are you that important?’

Froi looked away. ‘Isaboe would invade if you kidnapped a servant, let alone a friend.’

‘Isaboe? We’re on first-name terms with the Queen of Lumatere, are we?’ Gargarin asked.

Froi found himself bristling. ‘What? Do you think I’m some cutthroat for hire who they found hanging around the palace walls with the words “I want to kill a Charynite King” tattooed on my arse?’

‘No, but I didn’t expect you to live in the palace guardhouse.’

‘I don’t. I live in the Flatlands with a family that has given me a home these past three years. Lord Augie is a –’

‘August of the Flatlands?’ Gargarin stared with disbelief. ‘The Ambassador to Belegonia?’

‘So he knows the Queen and he lives with nobility,’ Arjuro said, bored. ‘Should we be impressed?’

‘And I’m presuming you were taught to speak Charyn by the holy man?’ Gargarin continued the interrogation.

Arjuro stared. Suddenly he seemed to care. ‘The Priestking? As in the blessed
Barakah
of Lumatere?’

‘He doesn’t enjoy titles these days,’ Froi said quietly. Suddenly the brothers seemed strange and slightly defensive. Gargarin closed his eyes for a moment and Froi couldn’t tell what he was thinking.

‘Go. Home,’ Gargarin said tiredly. ‘Just go. You don’t belong here. You belong there. You can play with nobility in the Flatlands and continue your lessons with the holy man. But don’t stay here and waste your life.’

‘I want my weapons back,’ Froi lied, ‘and I know Zabat is the one who took them. I’m going to ask for them politely.’

‘How can you possibly think that’s a sound idea?’ Gargarin asked with frustration.

‘I’m a foreigner, Gargarin. Zabat and Dorcas know that. The last thing they or Bestiano want is to instigate a war against Lumatere.’

‘If Zabat knows so much about what you’re doing in Charyn, he can have you arrested for conspiracy to kill the King, which will acquit Bestiano and allow them all to return to the capital,’ Arjuro said.

‘Arrested by who?’ Froi argued. ’No one’s in charge except for those savages in the Citavita. If Zabat is working for Bestiano, they won’t have the power to arrest anyone just yet. They’re fugitives themselves.’

‘Then it’s better that I go,’ Gargarin said.

Arjuro was looking from one to the other. ‘You’re both idiots,’ he said angrily. ‘I suggest the three of us get out of this death pit before it’s swarming with Bestiano’s riders.’

‘I said, I’m going.’ Froi pushed past Gargarin. Gargarin grabbed him by his tunic.

‘Do you honestly think you can release the women and escape that cave with five of them surrounding you and no weapon? Because I can assure you that the guard standing outside will not allow you to enter with that sword, regardless of how worthless you think it is.’

‘If they know I’m Lumateran they will not kill me,’ Froi hissed, wondering if Gargarin was hard of hearing or plain stupid. ‘They will ransom me instead. Your life as a Charynite, on the other hand, is worth much less and you know it.’

‘I say we walk away,’ Arjuro repeated. ‘You, you and me,’ he said, pointing to all three of them. ‘She’s not worth your lives, neither of them are. The whole of Charyn will agree with me.’

‘Do you know what my captain and his second-in-charge have told me over and over again?’ Froi asked.

‘Not interested,’ Arjuro said.

‘That if there is no means to an end, then buy time,’ Froi continued. ‘Each moment you buy provides you with more of an opportunity. Someone makes a mistake. Some distraction occurs. The scenario changes.’

‘Yes, from two corpses to three,’ Gargarin said.

‘Well, I could always go,’ Arjuro said. ‘They’re not going to kill the last Priestling.’

Gargarin stared at his brother as though noticing him for the first time. ‘Why aren’t you on the road to Osteria?’

‘Because I’d like to die of natural causes and not of boredom, brother,’ Arjuro responded.

Froi won the argument and made his way towards the stream to Gargarin’s cave. When he was within shouting distance he stepped out of the clearing, both arms extended wide. The two palace riders stood to attention and Froi watched one disappear to alert those inside.

A moment later Froi found himself lying flat on the hard earth while his whole person was checked for weapons.

‘Tell Zabat I want to speak to him. Tell him it’s Froi of Lumatere. He’ll know me better as Olivier of Sebastabol.’

He was dragged to his feet and pushed towards the cabin. At the door he was checked again and then dragged inside.

He noticed the walls first. Painted with grand images of the gods, strong and mighty.

On a filthy cot in the corner sat Quintana and Lirah. When Lirah saw him, she closed her eyes with what seemed bitter despair. Quintana’s eyes flashed with what he could only understand as some kind of victory.

Dorcas’s expression revealed nothing except slight irritation, which was nothing new when he was looking at Froi.

‘Tell your guard to stay,’ Zabat ordered Dorcas.

‘Zabat?’ Froi asked, pretending hurt. ‘Do you not trust me?’

Dorcas ignored them both and looked back towards the guard. ‘Did you disarm him?’

‘He wasn’t armed, Sir.’

Zabat’s expression was disbelieving. ‘Search him again. Be careful. He’ll go for your weapon.’

Froi held out his arms impassively as he was thoroughly searched for a second time, his eyes never leaving those of Rafuel’s traitorous messenger.

‘I’m praying for your sake that you haven’t betrayed your brothers in the valley, Zabat,’ he said.

‘And why is that?’

‘Because I’ll have to kill you. It’s part of my bond.’

Zabat had the good sense to look nervous.

‘A smart man chooses the side with more might, but if it’s any consolation, we all work for the good of Charyn,’ he said.

The fool looked to Dorcas and the two guards, pleased with his words. They ignored him.

‘Leave,’ Dorcas ordered Froi. ‘Take Lirah of Serker with you. We have no quarrel with Lumatere, if it is true that’s where you’re from. Tell your people to keep out of our affairs.’

‘Why can’t I take her with me, Dorcas?’ Froi said, pointing to Quintana. ‘She’s worthless.’

‘My orders are to return the Princess to Bestiano. It is imperative that she explains the truth of the curse after all these years of deceit, so the true lastborn girls of Charyn can do what they were born to do. It is the role of the riders to keep Charyn secure.’

Dorcas spoke as if he was reciting the original order he had been given.

‘Was it your sword that killed Tariq of Lascow?’ Froi asked. ‘Did you follow the order to kill him? Kill all those innocent people in his compound?’

‘If I was there, I would have followed orders,’ Dorcas said. ‘But I was sent here. Regardless, I am comforted by the idea that Bestiano brought to justice those who were responsible for planning the murder of our king. The kills were said to be quick and clean.’

‘You weren’t there because you’re nothing to them, Dorcas,’ Froi said forcefully. ‘You’ve been assigned to run after a useless Princess. You weren’t there because Bestiano and his riders don’t want you to know the truth. That according to the Provincari, Bestiano killed the King.’

‘The Provincari have their own reasons to lie,’ Dorcas snapped, and for once Froi saw his uncertainty.

‘The riders murdered the rightful heir, Dorcas,’ he continued. ‘The only man who could bring justice to Charyn. And you would have done the same because you’re a fool who doesn’t know how to do anything but follow orders.’

‘Bonds? Orders? What’s the difference?’ Zabat interrupted. ‘Your orders are the same, Lumateran.’

‘In any case,’ Dorcas snapped. ‘Bestiano’s fight is not with foreigners. It is with the men who planned the murder. So I ask you again to leave and take Lirah of Serker with you. We’re not the street lords. We have no intention of slaughtering without reason.’

‘How will the seed be planted?’ Quintana asked coldly from the cot.

Everyone turned to stare.

‘So the true lastborn girls of Charyn can do what they were born to do?’ she repeated his words. ‘Who will fight to be the sire? Will it be Bestiano? Will the riders gather up the girls for him, Dorcas? Will you be reduced to that? Will you kill the fathers who fight to keep their daughters safe?’

Dorcas looked away, uncomfortable.

‘Are you envious, Reginita?’ Zabat spat out the words. ‘Isn’t that what you call yourself? Are you envious because your father did not fight for your safety?’

She shook her head. ‘Just dismayed that the lie we told these years past was futile.’

Zabat’s smile was of unpleasant satisfaction.

‘So here is the truth. Was I not always right when no one else would believe me? The Reginita, she claimed to be. The little Queen.’ He looked at Froi. ‘How many years did we waste listening to her tell the people that she was the only one amongst the lastborns who could break the curse?’

Froi looked at Quintana. He didn’t know what to believe.

‘Nothing in the curse said that I would give birth to the firstborn,’ she said, her voice cool. ‘Just that it would be the
last
who would do so. But I made sure my father gave a royal decree that only the Reginita and a lastborn male would break the curse. Myself and Tariq, my betrothed, the rightful heir. Anyone else who dared try would be defying the gods. My father was forced to believe me. The King had offended the gods in two kingdoms by then, and no one feared them more than he did.’

‘Why would you tell such a lie?’ Dorcas asked.

‘Why do you think, Dorcas?’ she said sadly. ‘Because I grew up in the palace and had come to understand the baseness of a man’s heart. They branded the lastborn girls on our thirteenth day of weeping. Tariq and I knew what that meant. My mother Lirah was sold in her thirteenth year. Do you honestly think the branding was for any other reason but to destroy the bodies and spirits of young girls destined to produce the first?’

Zabat’s expression was ugly.

‘You made up a story to win your father’s attention. Because he despised his abomination,’ Zabat said.

Lirah stood and glared at Zabat, who took a step back. She indicated Froi with a toss of her head. ‘He will kill you, fool. Mark my words. I saw him maim four of De Lancey’s men in the godshouse in the blink of an eye.’