Froi of the Exiles

you. And you’re going to have to promise me something.’

‘Don’t ask me to leave you,’ she cried through clenched teeth. ‘I can’t do this on my own.’

‘You can. You did it before. That last day in the Citavita when you let go of my hand. You thought I was a threat to you and you chose to protect the little King on your own rather than put him in danger. On your own, Quintana. You can do it again.’

She shook her head over and over again.

‘The moment I stand and begin lobbing my arrows, you run,’ he ordered, ‘and keep on running. Try to get to Turla. Keep away from the north. Satch has written to say there’s plague in Desantos. But you run, Quintana, and you keep yourself alive.’

‘We’ll do it together, Froi,’ she said with determination, pressing the skirt of her dress to the wound on his thigh to stop the bleeding.

He shook his head. Too much pain. Too much pain.

‘I can’t protect you,’ he gasped. ‘Not like this. I will slow you down and Bestiano will take you. He will kill you the moment you birth the babe.’

‘But they’ll kill you.’

He shook his head, biting back the pain. ‘They would never chance a battle with Lumatere now. They know it will involve Belegonia and Osteria. Their orders are to shoot me to slow me down, but not to kill me. I know such an order, Quintana. I’ve followed them myself. I’m worth more to them alive than dead.’

They both knew he was lying.

‘I’m counting, Froi,’ she cried. ‘I’m counting in my head.’

‘Good girl.’

He took her face in his bloody hands. ‘I’ll come and find you wherever you are. I’ll not stop breathing until I do. So you’re going to have to promise me that you won’t lose hope. That you will keep yourself alive.’

He tried to wipe her tears, but there were too many.

‘I heard your song the moment we were born,’ she sobbed. ‘And years later, it dragged me back from the lake of the half-dead when all I wanted to do was die. Each time someone tried to kill me, it sang its tune and gave me hope.’

She pressed cold lips against his and they tasted the salt of each other’s tears.

‘Are you ready?’ he asked.

She nodded.

‘Run!’

Later, Froi would have sworn to anyone who listened that it was Tariq of Lascow who propped him up so Froi could shoot at anyone in those hills who stood to take aim at Quintana.

And while he thrashed with pain as seven barbs were removed from his body, he wondered if he truly heard the voice of the Reginita in his ear. ‘You’re coming the wrong way, Froi,’ she said indignantly. ‘Turn back!’

But what he knew to be true were those voices surrounding him now. Speaking of Quintana of Charyn.

How seven days had passed since she had disappeared from existence.

That it would take the eyes of the gods to find her.

Or the heart of the Lumateran exile.

Chapter 42

Lucian knew the moment he saw Jory’s face that something was wrong. Because Jory was alone on the Lumateran side of the stream and Lucian knew the lad would never leave her. He was half in love with her himself.

‘Where is she, Jory?’ he asked, his voice harsh. He had decided just hours before to surprise Phaedra and ride down the valley to collect her earlier than usual. It was about time they went to the capital, he told Yata. They’d all go together and stay with Isaboe and Finnikin and he’d properly introduce Phaedra to his queen. As his wife.

Jory jumped to his feet, holding his hand up as if to ward Lucian away.

‘It’s plague, Lucian.’

‘What?’

‘Not the whole camp. They think they may have contained it. To one cave. But I don’t want you to come near me in case I’ve got it.’

The boy was wild-eyed. Full of fear, but not for himself.

‘Talk to me, Jory,’ Lucian said, walking to the lad. ‘Don’t be frightened. Just talk.’

‘Stay away, Lucian. I beg of you.’

‘Where’s my wife, Jory? Where’s Phaedra?’

Jory seemed confused. Dazed. He pointed back to the camp across the stream, his arm dropping with a fatigue of spirit.

‘When we arrived this morning it was all so normal,’ Jory said, ‘and I stopped a moment, you know. I didn’t mean to but I stopped a moment to speak to Kasabian because I try so hard with him, Lucian. Phaedra had gone into Angry Cora’s cave and later, when I went to enter, Phaedra yelled at me. “Stop Jory,” she said. “We think it’s plague. Call Matteo who has seen plague himself.” ’

Jory shuddered.

‘Rafuel or Matteo or whoever he wants to be, he went to the cave but didn’t go inside. I saw him from the entrance, Lucian. I saw his face. I thought his heart had stopped beating. He ordered the camp leaders and Harker and Kasabian and everyone away. “Plague,” he shouted. “Plague.”

‘Harker had to be held back. “You can’t keep me away from my women,” he shouted. But Rafuel picked up a sword and said that the next person to pass him would die with a sword through his heart. “Plague is plague,” he said. Everyone was ordered back to their caves. Rafuel told Donashe that the women had to be isolated, “They can’t just stay there in the middle of us all and spread their stinking disease.” He was like a madman, Rafuel was. Phaedra came to the entrance and said that she would take the women further down the stream and that perhaps in that way, they’d contain it. And I called out to her, Lucian. Truly I did. I said, “Phaedra, you’ve not been there long. You can stay with us because it can’t catch you that fast. Not if you haven’t touched them.” But she wouldn’t come, Lucian. She said that if she returned with me and brought plague to the mountain and to the children, she would never forgive herself and nor would you, Lucian.’

Jory looked back to the Charynite camp again, as if willing Phaedra to walk through the trees.

‘So now they’re downstream and Phaedra said that each day she’ll write a message outside a cave wall up high with an ochre stick, the writing big and bold.’

‘Write what?’ Lucian asked, horrified. But he didn’t need to hear the answer.

Phaedra would write the numbers of the dead.

Despite Jory’s pleas to keep away, Lucian crossed the stream and approached Rafuel, who was standing in a huddle with the rest of the camp dwellers. Lucian grabbed him, shaking him hard.

‘How many of them are there?’ he asked.

‘Six.’

‘Take me to her.’

‘And what?’ Rafuel spat. ‘Get yourself killed. Have you ever seen plague, Mont. I doubt that in your cosy Osterian hills. If I take you to her cave, Lumatere will be annihilated within weeks. I was there six years ago. I lived through the last plague we had.’

Rafuel turned to the others. ’I say this to you all. The first man or woman who travels past me to that cave downstream will catch an arrow to their heart. The first man or woman who does not report a sign will catch an arrow to their heart.’

‘Are you camp leader all of a sudden, Matteo?’ Lucian demanded.

Donashe stepped forward. ‘We stand by Matteo’s threat,’ he said.

Rafuel stared at Lucian. ‘If you cross the stream again then you’re a bigger fool than I thought you were,