Froi walked back to where Gargarin had laid out a map on the desk and watched as he marked the provinces they could trust. There weren’t many.
‘Let’s just say I was a guest in Sorel,’ Froi said. ‘A guest of one of their slave traders.’
Gargarin’s hand froze.
‘The slave traders of Sorel?’ Gargarin asked, his eyes registering the horror of what Froi was saying. The stories of the traders and the fate of their victims were well known across the land.
Froi shrugged again and looked away.
‘Don’t tell Lirah,’ Gargarin said quietly.
Froi shook his head, not believing what he was hearing. ‘Wouldn’t want to upset Lirah with my sordid past.’
Gargarin hissed with frustration. ‘Froi, what has got into you? Be angry at me, but don’t shut her out. If she doesn’t know how to speak the right words with you, it’s because she doesn’t know what you want from her.’
‘But she knows what you want from her, doesn’t she, Gargarin?’ Froi spat.
Arjuro walked into the room, putting an end to the discussion. Froi could see that the Priestling’s body was tense with fury as he reached Gargarin and examined his map.
‘So where to next?’ Arjuro demanded to know.
Gargarin didn’t respond, but rolled up the chart quietly.
‘You’re in a hurry, are you?’ Arjuro asked. ‘To walk away?’
The brothers’ eyes were fixed on each other with bitter regret. At that moment they could not have looked more different.
‘You think I don’t see it every time you look at me?’ Arjuro asked. ‘The contempt.’
‘Not contempt, brother. Just sadness,’ Gargarin said, limping away from both Froi and Arjuro.
Arjuro grabbed Gargarin and threw him to the wall. ‘Say the words,’ Arjuro hissed. ‘Say you despise me for what I allowed to happen to you, because I see fury in your eyes, despite your soft tone.’
Froi stepped between them, a hand to both their chests. Gargarin shoved them both from him.
‘I don’t despise you for what you allowed to happen to me,’ Gargarin said through clenched teeth. ‘I despise you because when I was released you refused to be found and I needed you more than anything in my life. Not to mend my broken bones, Arjuro. I needed my brother to mend my broken spirit.’
The next day, Arjuro was not to be found. His belongings were gone and no message was left. De Lancey sent his men to search and Froi waited the whole day in the courtyard for them to return. The moment the guards arrived, De Lancey and Gargarin came down the steps, desperate for answers. But Arjuro had become a ghost.
‘What about the godshouse?’ Froi asked. ‘He’d wave to you and Gargarin every night when he was at school there.’
‘It was the first place we looked,’ one of the guards said.
Gargarin looked defeated and limped away. De Lancey followed.
‘Did you know that someone stripped the flesh from his back and branded the word traitor across his shoulder blades?’ Froi called out.
Both Gargarin and De Lancey looked back, anguish in their expressions. Froi nodded. ’I saw him one night in the godshouse baths of Jidia. I think it’s why he keeps himself covered up.’
‘We will find him,’ De Lancey said.
Gargarin shook his head. ‘No. We won’t. If there is someone who knows how to disappear without a trace, it’s my brother.’
Apart from searching for Arjuro, Froi spent the days awaiting Feliciano of Avanosh’s arrival and avoiding Quintana, Lirah and Gargarin. Most times he was in the company of Grijio and Olivier. Grijio knew of a cave with a long straight tunnel where Froi could teach them to hit a target with an arrow.
‘It was my secret place for target practice when we planned to save Quintana,’ Grijio explained. ‘I’d leave a bow and a quiver of arrows there so the guard would not see me walking out of the compound holding a weapon. If they knew, they would have told my father for certain.’
‘Did you … ever actually hit a target?’ Froi asked politely.
Grijio grinned. ‘No. Not once. My eyes are not good. They never have been.’
The cave tunnel was long indeed and Froi set up a target and gave his first lesson.
‘You’ll never get it this far back,’ Olivier said, straining to see where the target was in the dark of the cave.
‘A wager?’ Froi asked, steadying his hand, one eye closed. The lads loved a wager.
‘One piece of silver a hit,’ Olivier offered.
Froi succeeded first go and held out his hand, laughing.
Then the others tried. Grijio was all thumbs and fingers whilst Olivier seemed a natural, although it was a while before he hit the perfect target.
When they weren’t practising hitting targets they would sit on the roof of Grijio’s secret cave overlooking the province and answering a string of Olivier’s theoretical questions.
‘What if you were given a choice between being the Captain of the Guard or the King’s First Advisor? Which would you choose?’
‘King’s First Advisor,’ Grijio said. ‘Or Ambassador, at least.’
‘Captain, of course,’ Froi said.
Olivier thought of his own question. ‘I don’t enjoy taking charge, so I’d be hopeless at both. But I’m good on a mount and if I knew how to fight I’d be honoured to be a royal rider.’
They continued their quizzing as they walked home. Grijio hollered a ‘Hello there’ to everyone he passed.
‘What if you had to choose between the most beautiful girl in the land who was stupid and the ugliest girl in the land who was smart?’ Olivier asked, running out of intelligent things to ask.
‘Why can’t there be one in between?’ Grijio asked, dismayed. He sighed, thinking. ‘The problem with being a lastborn male is that there aren’t many women to pick from,’ he said. ‘I’d like her to be as smart as I am. Someone who doesn’t just place worth on the build of a man or his ability to fight.’
‘That’s very smart of you, Grij. Because your build and ability to fight are not your strong points,’ Olivier said.
Froi laughed and on Grijio’s behalf, jabbed Olivier with the arrow he was holding.
‘One who knows the languages of the other kingdoms,’ Grijio continued. ‘Who doesn’t believe the world ends at our borders. One who is kind.’ He looked at the others, pensively. ‘We don’t have enough kindness in this land.’
‘You’re describing the Queen of Lumatere,’ Froi said.
‘Is she as beautiful as they say?’ Olivier asked.
‘She is indeed.’
‘Is your queen what you are searching for in a woman, Froi?’ Grijio asked.
Froi thought for a moment. ‘I never imagined I was looking for something in a woman. But if I did, I’d have to judge her by the way I felt laying beside her before I went to sleep at night and how I felt in the morning waking up to her.’
‘Oh, too profound, my friend,’ Olivier mocked. ‘Much too profound.’
When Froi arrived in the compound he found Quintana in the courtyard. She had taken a liking to the pups there. When she spoke to them, he heard the Reginita’s indignant voice and for a moment, he thought she had returned. But Quintana had learnt that pups and people reacted better to the sound of her sister’s voice than her own.
‘They like it if you do this,’ Froi said, his voice husky as he tickled the belly of one. She tried herself and laughed at her pup’s antics.
‘Do you have one back home?’ she asked.
‘No, but Finn and Isaboe do. A massive hound. Finn calls her the bitch of Lumatere.’
Quintana smiled a moment. ‘Finn and Isaboe,’ she said quietly, her eyes meeting his. ‘They seem so real when you name them.’
He followed her into De Lancey’s courtyard and up a passageway, a shortcut to their quarters. As she
