And then it was late afternoon and the day had passed with nothing really being accomplished. That was Lucian’s problem. It’s what plagued his thoughts as he travelled to check on Tesadora and the girls. Lucian hadn’t spent three years failing. He had spent three years accomplishing nothing.
But the journey down the mountain calmed him, despite his day. As a child, Lucian had travelled with Saro to the closest Charynite province of Alonso no more than three times, but the valley between them had always fascinated him. Lucian caught sight of the gorge below. On the side where the mountain met the stream was woodland and a world that looked easily like Lumatere. But on the other side of the stream was a strange landscape of caves perched high. Thousands of years ago, when there were no such things as kingdoms named Lumatere and Charyn, travellers from Sendecane had settled here and carved their homes out of the granite made soft by rainwater over the ages.
But then for hundreds upon hundreds of years the valley was uninhabited. The settlers either moved west to Lumatere or east to Charyn. Because the stream belonged to the mountains, the valley was said to belong to Lumatere and the boundary between both kingdoms was determined further downstream where the water became a trickle.
In the accounts collected by Tesadora and the girls in their chronicles, most of the cave dwellers claimed they had once belonged to the smaller provinces of Charyn. These provinces had all but been destroyed during the years of drought and plague. Some of the larger provinces had gone as far as building a wall around their region. It was to protect their people from both the King and the threat of being overcrowded by their landless neighbours.
Now here these people were, living off the fish in the stream and supplies sent grudgingly by the province of Alonso and weekly bread sent down from Lumatere. Lucian knew the Provincaro of Alonso kept these people fed so they wouldn’t return to his province and cause him more misery amongst his people. But he also knew that his father had enjoyed a strange friendship with the Provincaro. Would he have helped Sol of Alonso in spite of everything?
‘What would you have done today, Fa?’ Lucian whispered, because sometimes he truly felt his father on this mountain slope. ‘About Orly and especially the lads? Would you have backhanded them with their talk of rape and women? Or are they just lads being lads?’
Lucian tied up his horse at Tesadora’s campsite where a large tent was pitched between a thicket of trees. If not for the branches, those in the caves would be able to see where Tesadora and her girls slept at night. It made him furious just to think of what the men could do by merely crossing the stream.
He reached the stream and could see the Charynites up in their caves looking down at him suspiciously, or lining up to have their details recorded by Tesadora’s girls. Further along, Phaedra of Alonso was bent over in what looked like a vegetable patch and was speaking to a man and a woman.
‘Tell them not to plant their seeds, Phaedra,’ Lucian barked out. ‘They’re not here to stay so there’s no need for scattering them.’
Phaedra and the couple stood up for a moment and he watched as Phaedra spoke to them. They crouched back down again. Cursing, Lucian crossed the stream, knee-deep in water. When he reached them, Phaedra stood there, cowering as usual.
‘Luci-en, this is Cora and her brother Kasabian.’
Cora and Kasabian seemed the same age as his father had been when he died.
‘Lucian,’ he corrected with irritation.
Cora gave Phaedra a shove and Phaedra retrieved a piece of parchment from her sleeve and passed it to Lucian with a trembling hand. He read it, shaking his head.
‘You want grain? Why, when we give you bread?’
‘We’d like to make our own bread, Lu-cion … cien … shen.’ She turned away miserably and the woman nudged her again. ‘Yours is strange and round. Ours is flat. And if we could grow our own herbs to make pastes, we’d be most appreciative. Your food is making us ill. All those turnips.’
‘It’s fine for a Mont,’ he said. ‘And how many times do I have to say no planting!’ he snapped, as he watched a number of others squat at the vegetable garden that looked a ridiculous mess anyway. These people knew nothing.
‘They’re not planting,’ Phaedra said. ‘We had set up a number of vegetable patches along this stretch, but…’
She stopped a moment.
‘But what, Phaedra?’ he said. ‘Speak. It’s as though I’m talking to an idiot!’
The man Kasabian spoke quietly. Just one word.
‘What did you say to me?’ Lucian asked, stepping forward and towering over him.
‘What I said was, “Enough”,’ Kasabian said quietly. ‘Enough.’
With a withering look, Lucian made sure the man knew who had won this round. He walked away towards Tesadora and the girls. While two of their companions recorded the names of those standing in line, Tesadora and Japhra beckoned the people to where they could be checked for illness. The Charynites were cautious and looked frightened.
Lucian held out his hand for the Charynite chronicle of names and particulars. He counted two hundred and forty-four people so far, and knew that each day more would arrive, looking haggard and weary, not a smile amongst them. Most had found a cave and kept to themselves, including Rafuel of Sebastabol’s men.
‘Does he look suspicious to you?’ Lucian asked Tesadora, who was quietly studying the weathered face of an old man who stood before her. Tesadora was said to know the symptoms of almost any ailment by looking in someone’s eyes and at their tongue.
‘Well, I’m not sure what suspicious looks like,’ she said, bluntly. ‘Sometimes when you come down the mountain and stand behind those trees, you look suspicious.’
‘Are you aware these people can almost look into your campsite, Tesadora?’ he said. ‘From up there.’ He pointed to their caves.
‘Almost,’ she murmured, looking closely into the man’s eyes. ‘But not quite. It’s why I chose that particular tree to pitch our tent under at the beginning of summer, so –’
‘So you don’t trust them, after all,’ he said, feeling slightly victorious that the stubborn Tesadora was admitting it to him.
She pointed to her mouth and poked out her tongue and the man before her did as she instructed.
‘–so I wouldn’t have to hear you or Perri or Trevanion or anyone else tell me that these people can see into my campsite.’ She looked at him. ‘And still you stand here and waste my time.’
‘What about Rafuel’s men?’
‘They can’t see into my campsite either.’
‘I mean have they come out yet?’ he said, quickly losing his patience.
‘No, and I’m not climbing up to them. If you want to know anything, speak to your little bride. She’s quite the popular one in this camp. If she was any more cheerful she’d make us all ill.’
Tesadora turned her attention back to the old man before her.
‘Give him a blanket, Japhra,’ she said quietly. Japhra placed a blanket around the man’s shoulders and he walked away.
‘Do you give everyone a blanket?’ Lucian asked, watching as Japhra had to almost drag the next woman to Tesadora.
‘Just those who are dying,’ Japhra said, when it was obvious that Tesadora had already dismissed him.
Lucian was livid. ‘If he’s contagious he can’t stay in the valley,’ he hissed.
Tesadora’s stare was hard. ‘The only thing contagious around here at the moment, Lucian, is fear and ignorance. The Charynites are afflicted with one and the Monts with the other.’
She waved him away with irritation. He added her to the list. What would his father have done about Tesadora in the valley? Would he have ordered her back to where she belonged in the Forest of Lumatere? Would he have spoken to Perri and said, Take care of your woman, she shouldn’t be down here amongst these strange people?
‘It’s getting dark,’ Lucian said to Tesadora. ‘Finish up what you are doing here and meet me on our side of the stream.’
He walked away. ‘Phaedra!’ he barked. Still the idiot girl stood with the brother and sister at the mess of a
