Quintana of Charyn

Finnikin tightened his grip. ‘I don’t follow your orders and I don’t follow Bestiano’s,’ he said. ‘I’m just a fool who comes from that road you call Lumatere.’

He silenced the man’s shout with a hand, pressing the dagger closer to his throat. But suddenly he heard the rustle of leaves underfoot behind him and felt the tip of steel pressed into his back.

‘Drop the dagger,’ he heard a hoarse whisper say. ‘Drop it now!’

Gargarin of Abroi tried to turn in Finnikin’s arms and Finnikin sensed his desperation. The knife he held to the Charynite’s throat drew blood as Gargarin struggled. Behind Finnikin, the sword dug deeper into his back.

‘I said drop it!’

Mercy!

And just when Finnikin thought the moment could get no worse, he heard his father’s voice. Cold. Hard. Anguished.

‘Put down the sword, Froi, or I’ll slice your head clear from your body.’

Chapter 9

Lord Tascan and his family’s visit to the mountain was met with great enthusiasm. At first. Yata received them in her home and Lucian spent the afternoon showing them the dairy farms and the silo. Lucian was keen to set up an agreement between the Monts and the Flatland lords. The first of Lumatere’s market days with the Belegonians and Osterians had been a success for the kingdom, but the Monts had been absent, due to Phaedra’s death in the valley. Their hearts had not been in it. But Lucian believed it was time to show the rest of the kingdom that they were more than just sentinels.

And here Lord Tascan was, as keen as Lucian desired. But when the nobleman insisted he accompany Lucian alone on a tour of the stables, Lucian quickly came to understand the truth behind his visit.

‘I’m not going to waste time here, Lucian,’ he said, as they inspected the stalls. Lucian was hoping to show off the size of their boars to Lord Tascan, but he didn’t seem interested.

‘Since our return to Lumatere I’ve watched you carefully and have been impressed with your potential, lad. But then, of course, there was the unfortunate marriage to the Charynite. All behind you now.’

Lucian stiffened. When he had visited the palace village a week past, friends and acquaintances had approached, one after the other, with hearty congratulations.

‘It must be a relief,’ the weaver had said.

Relief?

The sun appearing after days of rain or darkness was a relief. Orly and Lotte’s news that Gert and Bert had finally found each other and would produce the finest calf known to the mountain was a relief. Phaedra of Alonso’s death was a never-ending pain that gnawed at his insides. It made him a prisoner in his own cottage.

‘Lucian, this kingdom would love nothing more than your betrothment to my daughter, Zarah.’

Sweet Goddess.

‘It will bring opportunity to both our villages and it will bring light back to this mountain. Isn’t that what you want, Lucian? I’ve seen your yata. This marriage to the Charynite darkened her doorstep.’

No, her death did, Lucian wanted to say. Yata had come to admire Phaedra. Even love her.

‘Zarah’s a good daughter, Lucian. The Osterian court held her in high regard when we lived there during the curse.’

‘I don’t want to offend your daughter, sir –’

‘Then good.’ Lord Tascan thumped Lucian on the back heartily. ‘It’s settled. No need to rush into anything formal just yet. But we’ll expect you for supper when you visit for market day. You can stay the night in the palace. I’m sure the Queen will enjoy seeing a beloved cousin. Perhaps there will be an invitation for my family to join you.’

Lucian forced a smile. Lord Tascan had waited a month. Not to talk hogs and mutton. But to talk unwed daughters. How could Lucian have been so stupid not to notice?

After a long goodbye the guests departed, demanding promises he would come visit them, and Lucian returned home. From where he stood outside his cottage, he could see Lord Tascan’s people disappearing down the mountain trail and he felt nothing but great relief. Since Phaedra’s death, his cottage had become his refuge. Sometimes he imagined her there beside him. She had once told Lucian that she liked how high his home sat on the mountain, overlooking the other cottages and farms. She had loved the dips and slopes of the land in the distance, the smoke that came from Orly’s home, and the sight of Miro’s herd of sheep on a neighbouring property.

‘It’s a pity you can’t see it all from inside,’ he heard her say. ‘Windows would give you the greatest view all around.’

‘Why would I want to see more of everyone?’ he said. ‘Then they’d never leave me alone. The walls blocking out the mountain work just fine for me, Phaedra. It means I don’t have to see the sadness of their faces now that you’re gone.’

He spoke aloud to her often. This is what he was reduced to. Speaking to the ghosts of his father and his wife.

He was about to walk inside his cottage when he saw the horses travelling up the trail from the village of Balconio. Was it Lord Tascan returning? Lucian would have to hide, if so. But then he realised it was the Queen’s Guard and, fearing the worst, Lucian walked down the path back to Yata’s compound and waited for their arrival. As they ventured closer, he saw his cousin Isaboe amongst them. They were usually forewarned that she would be staying so that Yata could organise her quarters. But he also knew that sometimes his cousin craved to be with her mother’s kin, because no one fussed over Isaboe like Yata and the aunts. She was still their little Mont girl despite being Queen of them all.

When she arrived with Jasmina and the Guard, he helped her dismount and they embraced. She seemed to want to hold on a moment longer and he let her. He took Jasmina from one of her other guards, Moss, and placed the imp on his shoulders.

‘Should you be riding?’ he asked Isaboe.

‘I’m with child, Lucian,’ she said dryly. ‘Not dying. And I’m actually on my way down to the valley.’

‘What?’ Lucian asked, stunned, looking up at her guard Aldron, who grimaced.

‘I’d appreciate you talking the Queen out of doing that, Lucian,’ Aldron said.

‘And I’d appreciate you both not talking about me as if I’m invisible,’ she said, rolling her eyes.

‘Did the Queen of this kingdom just roll her eyes?’

‘She’s been doing it all the way up the mountain,’ Aldron muttered.

‘And still you’re talking about me as if I’m not present!’ she said.

Lucian exchanged a look with Moss. No one seemed to like the idea of Isaboe travelling to the valley.

‘Stop doing that! All of you,’ she said firmly.

Lucian held up a hand in surrender.

‘If this is about your fight with Finn –’

Aldron was shaking his head at Lucian in warning.

‘My conversations with your beloved friend are of no one’s business,’ she said.

‘How come Finnikin’s my beloved friend whenever you fight and he’s your beloved husband all other times?’

Isaboe stared at him, unamused. ‘Take me to the valley, Lucian, or I’ll have Aldron here relay the conversation I just had with Lord Tascan as we passed each other. The one where he suggests an invitation to the palace next time you’re in town. With his daughter in attendance.’

Lucian sighed. Isaboe would do it to spite him.

‘Moss, can you take Jasmina to Yata and tell her we’ll be staying the night?’ she said, taking Jasmina’s little fingers and kissing each and every one of them. ‘I’m off to see Tesadora. I’ve not seen her for such a while.’