people in the Lascow Mountains. Only then can they be sung home to our ancestors.’
Froi nodded, touched by the ritual.
‘Is that how they do things where you come from?’ Tariq asked.
Froi shook his head. ‘It’s important for the Lumaterans to be part of the earth. The earth is the goddess so by being buried at death, we’re returned into her arms.’
‘Buried?’ Tariq shuddered, but then realised what Froi had said. The heir stared. Intrigued.
‘And what is a Lumateran doing in these parts?’ he asked. ‘I would think you hate us for what was done to your people at the hands of our men.’
Froi didn’t respond. He cursed himself for the words he had said, but there was something about Tariq that put him at ease.
‘When I’m in the palace, Froi, and all is calm in Charyn, my first duty to this land will be to issue an invitation for peace to your queen and her consort,’ Tariq promised. ‘The despair of Lumatere is a stain on a Charynite’s soul.’
‘And when that time comes,’ Froi said, ‘I will do anything to ensure your safety within my kingdom.’
Later, they ate with Quintana and Ariel, and Froi watched the two girls sitting side by side. Quintana had spoken little, her eyes fixed on Froi at every moment. If he stood, she’d stand as well, as though waiting to follow him wherever he went.
Froi watched Ariel take Quintana’s hand and Quintana pull away. It made him wince to see how cold she was in their presence when Ariel wanted comfort in her dying days. But then Quintana bent and whispered into the dying girl’s ear and he saw an expression of pure joy on Ariel’s face.
Froi felt Tariq’s eyes on him, wary. Suspicious.
‘You were staring,’ Tariq said. ‘Perhaps at Ariel. She’s beautiful, is she not?’
Froi nodded, but Tariq was no fool and he looked towards Quintana.
‘She was my first, the Princess was,’ Tariq said. ‘The breaking of the curse was to begin with us, for we were born in the same year. She’s the only girl I’ve ever laid with. We were frightened beyond anything and had no idea what to do. Do you know who we had to ask?’
‘Lirah?’ Froi asked.
‘No. She was imprisoned and I was never to meet her.’ Tariq leaned forward to whisper. ‘Did you become acquainted with Aunt Mawfa?’
‘Yes,’ Froi said sadly. ‘Yes, I did.’
‘I think our Aunt Mawfa was a wildcat in her days,’ Tariq said. Froi laughed.
‘Did she die easily?’ Tariq asked quietly.
‘Yes,’ Froi lied, abruptly getting to his feet. Talk of Lady Mawfa and Tariq and Quintana’s first time together was making him uneasy.
‘I need to go.’
Tariq looked dismayed. ‘Have I offended you in some way?’
Froi looked over to where Quintana was still whispering to Ariel. When he turned back to Tariq the other lad’s expression darkened.
‘I can take care of her, you know,’ Tariq said stiffly. Then his face softened and he grimaced. ‘We both … Quintana and I … we both agreed that we would do everything for Charyn. We are fated to be together.
‘But Charyn has done little for both of you,’ Froi said harshly.
‘Some of us weren’t born for rewards, Froi. We were born for sacrifices.’
‘I’ll not say my goodbyes,’ Froi said, walking away. ‘It might be best that I leave without ceremony.’
‘You saved her life,’ Tariq said to Froi’s retreating back. ‘Charyn may forget that one day, but I won’t.’
He got as far as the end of the tunnel of speckled light.
‘Froi!’ he heard her cry. Froi turned to see Tariq gripping her hand, and Quintana pulling away.
‘Where are you going?’ she asked.
He continued his way to the docked raft and began to untie the rope. She reached him.
‘Please, Froi. Only you can take care of us,’ she wept. ‘Only you.’
She held onto him and he tried to push her away gently, tried to get onto the raft, half-lifting her back on the landing.
‘Please,’ she begged. ‘Please stay and protect us.’
‘You have an army coming, Quintana. Tariq doesn’t need me.’
‘But we need you, Froi. Not Tariq. We need you.’
Froi sighed, pushing her gently away again. ‘Tariq!’ he called out. But she tried to climb on board again, almost toppling into the water as she wept.
‘Let us come with you, Froi. Please.’
Tariq reached them and tried to remove her from Froi, but Quintana held on fast, sobbing,
‘Quintana, you’ll hurt yourself,’ Tariq said when she tried to board the raft a third time. ‘You’ll not survive a moment in the capital.’
‘He’ll protect us. He’ll make sure nothing happens to us.’
She managed to cling onto Froi, her arms clasped around him.
‘Can we have a moment, Your Majesty?’ Froi asked Tariq, his heart hammering hard at what he was about to do. Tariq was hesitant, but then stepped away.
Froi pulled free of Quintana, grabbing both her arms to shake her hard.
‘Listen and listen well, Princess,’ he said through clenched teeth. ‘I was sent to assassinate you. Do you hear me? By the Lumaterans who despise you. I was sent to snap your neck and put this kingdom and mine out of their misery.’
She recoiled and Froi knew he would take this moment’s expression to his death.
Quintana stepped back onto the landing, and her legs buckled. Froi reached to catch her, but Tariq was there, picking her up in his arms.
‘Go,’ Tariq said. ‘On my word, I promise that I will not let anything happen to her. Go.’
Chapter 22
The Belegonian Ambassador had outstayed his welcome. Finnikin knew it. Everyone in the room, including the Ambassador’s own scribe and guard, knew it. It had been too long a day with little compromise. No, the Lumaterans could not send fleece down the river through Belegonia to Yutlind. Belegonia now had a strong market selling their own fleece to wool merchants in Yutlind and Osteria. Did they not have the right during Lumatere’s curse to breed their own sheep for such purpose? And no, Lumatere should not expect the Belegonians to buy their ore when the kingdom of Sorel was selling it for half the price. Then there was the subject of Charyn. Belegonian conversation always came back to the subject of Charyn.
‘I will repeat this one more time, Your Majesty,’ the Belegonian Ambassador said. ‘My king is urging you to take up this opportunity. It’s what Lumatere has been waiting for.’
‘Do not presume to tell me what we’ve been waiting for, Sir,’ Isaboe said sharply.
‘The Charynite capital is in anarchy,’ the Belegonian Ambassador said. ‘The Osterians and Sarnaks have armies in place with our Belegonian soldiers standing by their side, ready to enter at any moment.’
‘The last I heard, one does not invade merely because another kingdom’s capital is in anarchy,’ Finnikin said from the window overlooking the garden where he could see Vestie of the Flatlands and Jasmina playing blindman’s bluff with Moss, who was guarding them.
He turned back and saw the Belegonians exchange looks. They were going to change tack. He was certain they were going to mention Sorel. They always used that kingdom as a threat in their negotiations. Finnikin tried to catch his wife’s eye.
‘The Sorellians will take advantage of this,’ the Belegonian Ambassador said.
‘You know this for certain, do you?’ she asked.
