Froi of the Exiles

blood.’

He stared out the window to where their people were setting up the trestle tables. There would be many absent faces today, especially from the Monts. Lucian’s grief was fierce. The loss of his Charyn wife was felt across the mountain and even Yata had declined to attend Trevanion and Beatriss’s bonding day out of respect for the days of mourning. Finnikin was torn between his joy for Trevanion and his sadness for his friend. He had noticed during his last visit to the mountains that Lucian’s feelings for the Charynite girl had changed. It was in the way the Mont’s eyes had blazed with pride when Phaedra spoke with such ease to those around her and flashed with jealousy when she spoke about the handsome Provincaro of Paladozza.

The death of Lucian’s wife had come at the same time as the arrival of a Charynite through the Osterian border claiming to have a ruby ring belonging to the Queen. The moment Finnikin and Isaboe had heard those words they had suspected the worst.

‘Have you heard news from the envoys, Sir Topher?’ Finnikin asked. ‘About events in Charyn?’

‘Only Celie. She’s returned for the wedding. The Osterians are saying that the King’s First Advisor has taken control of the kingdom with the Nebian army. The Belegonians are saying that a man named Gargarin of Abroi is holding the Queen hostage with Paladozza’s blessing. The Sorellians are saying that a Lumateran nobleman has kidnapped the Queen. The Sarnaks are saying that she is in the hands of rebel Priests in the Turlan Mountains.’

‘Is anyone saying the same thing?’ Isaboe asked.

‘Yes,’ Sir Topher said. ‘Everyone is saying that the Princess of Charyn is with child. Bestiano, the former King’s First Advisor, has made contact with the Belegonians asking for their acknowledgement of his right to lead the heir. He claims the Queen of Charyn is carrying his babe and that she has been kidnapped by Gargarin of Abroi. He says that the last thing Belegonia and Lumatere want is for Gargarin of Abroi to take control of the palace.’

‘As opposed to Bestiano, who was the savage King’s First Advisor for ten years?’ Isaboe asked bitterly.

‘Yes, but appointed after the events of Lumatere, not before,’ Sir Topher said. ‘And that is where our interest lies. According to Bestiano and the Belegonians, Gargarin of Abroi was in the palace eighteen years ago. He was the King’s brightest advisor.’

Finnikin sat before Sir Topher.

‘What is he implying?’

‘That Gargarin of Abroi was the mastermind behind the attack on Lumatere. That it was years in the planning.’

‘Eighteen years ago?’

‘Belegonia believes it to be true. Because what did Charyn need eighteen years ago more than anything else in the land?’

Finnikin and Isaboe exchanged looks.

‘Women who could give birth,’ Sir Topher said. ‘Gargarin of Abroi, according to Bestiano, believed the curse lay with the women and not the men. What better way to prove that than to invade Lumatere and take its women?’

‘Too ridiculous,’ Isaboe said. ‘And heinous.’

Finnikin shook his head. ‘Not so ridiculous. There was widespread rape here, Isaboe,’ he reminded her quietly. ‘Despite the fact it led to no births amongst us.’

‘Thank the Goddess for the smallest of favours,’ she said.

‘And you believe this Gargarin is staying in Paladozza?’ Finnikin asked Sir Topher.

‘According to the Belegonians, yes.’

Isaboe stood and took Finnikin’s hand. ‘What say you, my love? That it’s about time we go in and get our lad back?’

He thought for a moment and nodded. ‘And we set a trap for Gargarin of Abroi.’

They walked out into the main hall where their people awaited them beyond the courtyard doors.

‘We’ll speak of this later,’ Isaboe said. ‘I will not have Beatriss and Trevanion’s day ruined.’

Jasmina burst through the doors dressed for the celebrations and they both knelt down and held out their arms to her.

‘We do what needs to be done,’ Isaboe said quietly before Jasmina reached them. ‘We kill Gargarin of Abroi.’

Epilogue

Somewhere in Charyn, Froi woke to see Gargarin sitting beside his bed. Amidst all the horror, he felt a sense of joy to see him here. After everything Froi had said to Gargarin and Lirah, his father had come to be with him.

‘I’m sorry,’ Froi croaked, reaching out to take his hand. ‘I’m sorry for everything. I’m sorry for losing her.’

Gargarin gripped Froi’s hand, a gentle smile on his face.

‘We’ll do it your way, Gargarin. All of it. I’ll never doubt you again.’

Froi tried to sit up, but pain shot through almost every part of his body. Gargarin gently lay him back down and Froi held onto him with a fierceness that spoke of never letting him go.

‘Where’s Lirah?’ he whispered. ‘I want to see my mother. I want her forgiveness.’

Gargarin cleared the emotion from his throat.

‘You’re in the mountains of Sebastabol, Froi. Someone left you here. Someone who didn’t want you to die no matter how many of their arrows pierced you.’

Gargarin’s voice was so tender it made Froi weep.

‘I don’t know where Lirah is, lad. Nor Gargarin.’

Arjuro. Froi reached out a hand and touched his face. The Priestling’s hair was cropped and his beard not so wild and his eyes more lucid than Froi had ever seen.

‘You’re in a bad way, beloved ingrate,’ his uncle said. ‘But we are going to put you back together.’

In the Flatlands of Lumatere, Beatriss and Trevanion walked home with Vestie between them, who swung their arms as if she had not a care in the world. Beatriss had never seen her child so happy, but, despite it all, she knew that Trevanion would leave soon and she already felt the day’s sadness.

‘Are you going to go searching?’ she asked quietly, having heard talk that day of Charyn.

‘I have to,’ he replied. ‘I sent him, Beatriss, and I won’t rest until he’s returned to us.’

‘Who?’ Vestie asked. ‘Are you going somewhere, Trevanion?’

‘Father,’ he corrected gently.

Beatriss brushed hair out of her daughter’s eyes. ‘The Guard have lost their … dearest pup, Vestie, and they’re very sad without him so Trevanion will travel soon to bring him home.’

Trevanion lifted Beatriss’s hand to his lips.

‘You’re stretching my arm, silly,’ Vestie giggled.

‘We can’t have that,’ he said, lifting her into his arms.

Up ahead, Beatriss could see the family of Makli of the Flatlands approach on a horse and cart. They now had a future together and although it would be a long while before she would forget Makli’s harsh words, she had come to respect him. But as they rode by, Vestie poked out her tongue at Makli’s boy.

‘He’s my father!’ she bellowed, pointing to Trevanion.

‘Vestie!’ Beatriss said firmly, stopping to stare up at her. ‘I’ll snip at that tongue if I ever see it in such a way again! Trevanion, speak to her.’

Vestie hung her head, shamefaced.