Froi of the Exiles

hair, but sat down again when he realised he was mistaken.

‘They’re leaving,’ Gargarin said, ‘because they know it will be a bloodbath.’

‘With the street lords?’

Gargarin shook his head.

‘If there is one thing a King and heir is able to do, it is to create agreement across the kingdom that the right person is on the throne, no matter how bad their blood might be. We no longer have that ugly luxury. So mark my words. Bestiano will return. He’ll come at a time when the people of the Citavita will be desperate for stability and peace. He’ll take up residence in the palace, kill a street lord or two for show. But then the Provincari will send their armies. The Provincari will never abide Bestiano or another Provincaro on the throne. So a battle will be fought here,’ he said, pointing to the people. ‘In their blood.’

‘Nice to see that you are still a regular prophet of doom,’ Arjuro muttered.

‘Nice to see that you didn’t heed my instruction to cross the bridge with the Paladozza people!’ Gargarin snapped.

‘Maybe Lirah did,’ Froi said. ‘Travel with De Lancey, I mean.’

Gargarin shook his head. ‘I was there to see the Paladozza compound off.’

‘And why didn’t you go with the mighty De Lancey?’ Arjuro asked.

‘Because I had unfinished business.’

‘Of course,’ Arjuro said. ‘You decided to stay around so the street lords could finish off their business with you? Because from what I can see, there’s still an arm or bone in your body that they didn’t break!’

A head appeared through the hole in the roof and Froi recognised the innkeeper’s wife.

‘We’re shuttin’, so come inside, Priestling, and tell your friends to pay for a room or go elsewhere,’ she said.

‘Did the woman in the fourth room leave a message?’ Froi asked her. ‘Say where she was going?’

‘She didn’t need to say where she was going. Out of the Citavita, that’s where she was going.’

She disappeared inside.

Gargarin struggled to his feet and looked down at Froi. ‘Join the line tonight and get out of this kingdom by morning.’

‘I’m not going anywhere!’

‘Until when?’ Gargarin snapped. ‘Until Lirah comes back and leaves you a message? She’s gone. She’s been a prisoner on this godsforsaken rock since she was thirteen, Olivier. She’s not coming back.’

‘Froi,’ he shouted. ‘My name is Froi.’

He leapt to his feet, wanting to hurt Gargarin for not even getting that right. ‘And I’m not pining for Lirah. You are. I just wanted to see her face so I could tell her that I hate her!’ Froi grabbed Gargarin by the coarse cloth of his tunic. ‘I had a life with people who I would die for! You’ve all ruined everything. I despise you,’ he spat.

‘You’re supposed to despise him,’ Arjuro muttered. ‘He’s your father.’

‘Shut up!’ both Froi and Gargarin shouted.

The innkeeper’s wife appeared again. ‘Out,’ she hissed. ‘I want you out.’

Scowling darkly, the three of them made their way to the opening. Froi grudgingly shoved Gargarin down, holding him by the back of his undershirt until Gargarin’s feet touched the ground inside. Froi followed and the innkeeper’s wife stood before them, a broom in her hand.

‘The Priestling can stay only because I don’t want another curse befalling this house,’ she continued in her furious tone. ‘But you two, go. That beautiful woman and her precious boy must be grateful to be halfway across this land rather than putting up with any of you.’

The three of them exchanged looks as the innkeeper’s wife walked away. ‘What boy?’ Froi asked.

‘Out,’ she ordered over her shoulder.

Arjuro went to follow, a question on his lips, but Froi dragged him back, waiting for the woman to be out of earshot. Suddenly, he understood the truth.

‘We dressed Quintana in Perabo’s clothes,’ he said quietly. ‘So she would be mistaken for a lad.’ His eyes met Gargarin’s. ‘She came to Lirah and now they’re both somewhere out there.’

Gargarin’s eyes were cold.

‘A good thing. It’s best we all go our separate ways. There’s nothing left for us here. Nothing left for you.’

Froi nodded, bitterness in his heart.

‘You’ve made your thoughts clear, Father,’ he spat.

Gargarin flinched.

‘You have no place here, Dafar of Abroi,’ he said. ‘It’s time for you to return to your people.’

Part Three Quintana

Chapter 24

Six weeks after Froi arrived in the capital to kill the King of Charyn, he crossed the bridge that would mark his journey home to Lumatere. Turning back to look just once, the Citavita seemed ghostly in this morning mist, half-concealing the strange cluster of rocks with their secret worlds beneath. He couldn’t help but think what would happen to Perabo and all the cave dwellers who had intrigued Quintana that day they spent together. Or those in the castle who were too unimportant to be counted on the death list. Did the cook and the servants and the farriers survive? Did the street lords take their bloody revenge on the soothsayer, aligned to the King for so long? How long would the soulless cutthroats control the lives of all those innocent people? He had heard news that one of the street lords had run off with the ransom of three hundred pieces of gold and the ruby ring, leaving his companions with not a penny. Froi had learnt early in life that there was no honour amongst thieves and, judging from the thirst for blood of those who had murdered the palace dwellers, he could only imagine the fate of the traitorous thief when his former companions caught up with him.

Before Froi on the bridge were the last of those who had decided to leave the capital, including Gargarin and Arjuro. Arjuro kept a distance between himself and his brother, and Froi easily caught up with the Priestling.

‘Where will you go?’ he asked Arjuro quietly. Gargarin had made it abundantly clear that he was going to join De Lancey in Paladozza and that Arjuro and Froi were not invited.

‘Osteria is said to be beautiful at this time of the year.’

Froi knew the Priestling was lying.

The bridge ended and the crowd travelled north on the road that ran alongside the edge of the gravina. Most of the day the people were silent, and Froi knew their bodies were hunched under the weight of knowing that they were leaving their home and had nowhere to go. He couldn’t help turning to look back, time and time again, until the rock of the Citavita was a blur.

They reached the three roads that crossed in Upper Charyn, and most took the path east to Sebastabol or Paladozza. A handful continued on the road north that would lead them to the provinces of Jidia or Desantos. Froi’s path was back down the wall of the gravina to collect his weapons.

When the last of the Citavitans had disappeared, Froi still waited with Gargarin and Arjuro. Perhaps a part of him was waiting for something more.

But Gargarin’s stare was cold. ‘You deserve all the calamities of this world and the next if you ever return to this cesspit of a kingdom,’ he said, before leaving in the direction of the crowd and not looking back once.

‘Thank you for your time,’ Froi shouted after him. ‘It’s put to rest some idiotic romantic notions!’

Gargarin didn’t stop, nor did he turn around.

‘Bastard!’ Froi shouted. ‘Curse the day you were both born,’ he shouted at Arjuro as well.