Quintana of Charyn

Chapter 10

‘Froi, put down the dagger!’

‘Finn first. Then we talk.’

Later, Froi thought it would have looked strange to someone who stumbled across them in that clearing. Finnikin with an arm around Gargarin’s neck and a dagger to his throat. Froi with a blade to Finnikin’s back. Trevanion with his sword against the side of Froi’s neck, ready to strike the moment he moved. Froi was dizzy from the confusion and the rage and the despair of it.

‘Froi, put the dagger down!’ Perri ordered.

Froi chanced a look and saw Gargarin’s feet struggling to keep his body upright. Whether it was from pain or helplessness, it stirred Froi’s fury even more.

‘Let him go,’ Lirah cried, struggling in Perri’s grip.

Perri was strong enough to hold Lirah as he stepped forward and pressed the tip of his sword against Froi’s temple.

‘Put it down, Froi. You know I’ll do it,’ Perri threatened softly. ‘You know it.’

Because you don’t let emotion get in the way of what you’re doing. Isn’t that what Perri had once said?

‘Froi,’ Gargarin said. ‘Put your sword down.’ His voice was hoarse from the pressure of Finnikin’s dagger across his throat. ‘What good are you to us dead?’

‘And what good are you to all of us dead?’ Froi asked in return. Stupid, filthy tears filled his eyes and he felt weak and helpless. He had a blade to his king’s back. His king had a dagger to his father’s throat. The men he respected beyond question were threatening to kill him. Here at this place where Perri had tenderly carried Froi in his arms after they had rescued him from the Charynites more than three years ago.

‘Just put the dagger down, Finn,’ Froi begged. ‘He’s an architect. Nothing more.’

‘An architect of a path soaked in blood.’ Finnikin spat out the words, tightening his hold on Gargarin. ‘That’s all Lumatere is to these people, Froi. A road.’

Gargarin made a sound of regret. ‘I said what the Belegonians wanted to hear,’ he said with bitterness. ‘But you interfered, Lumateran. You interfered and the blood of Charyn is on your hands the moment Belegonia crosses that river.’

‘What have you done to us, Finn?’ Froi demanded.

Froi heard Finnikin’s hiss of fury. ‘Us? Froi, we’re not them. You’re not them.’

‘He’s not who you think, Finn. If you put down the dagger we’ll talk and you’ll hear it all.’

Lirah bit Perri’s hand and tried to struggle free.

‘Don’t hurt her!’ Froi shouted. He didn’t know who to protect first. Where to look.

‘Do you know of this man’s promise to the Belegonians in his correspondence?’ Finnikin demanded. ‘To eliminate Lumatere. To eliminate the people who gave you a home.’

‘You’re mistaken –’

‘Leave it to me, for I have a plan for Lumatere that will eliminate them as a threat,’ Finnikin said. ‘His words. Not mine. And how were you planning to do that, Charynite?’ he demanded, holding Gargarin closer to him. ‘March an army through my kingdom and rape my wife and child? It’s all Charynite men know how to do.’

Froi watched Gargarin slump, his head bent in defeat.

‘There are more ways than killing and maiming to eliminate a threat, Your Highness,’ Gargarin said, his voice low. ‘You misunderstood our use of weapon. Not a blade or an arrow, but Froi. We thought we could use him to eliminate Lumatere as a threat. His ties to you. His words.’

How could Finnikin not have understood that? Froi begged the gods.

‘We offer Lumatere peace, my lord, and you trap the man who can make it possible?’ Froi asked, gutted.

Finnikin was silent but he loosened his grip on Gargarin slightly, and Froi waited, but there was nothing.

‘Finn, I’m begging you. Let him free.’

‘We have evidence that this man was behind the plan to annihilate Lumatere all those years ago,’ Finnikin said.

‘Never,’ Froi said fiercely. ‘I will give my life saying that. It will be the last words I speak and they will haunt you, Finn. Never.’

‘Froi, step away,’ Gargarin said. ‘Put the dagger down. They won’t listen to reason and it will only get you killed. Put it down.’

‘You don’t tell me what to do, Gargarin!’

‘Can you not listen for once?’ Gargarin shouted. ‘If you had listened …’

But Gargarin didn’t finish his words.

‘Say it!’ Froi shouted over Finnikin’s head, not knowing who he hated most. ‘I wouldn’t have lost her. That’s what you wanted to say.’

‘Put the sword down and at least bargain for Lirah’s life,’ Gargarin said.

Finnikin uttered a sound of disbelief.

‘He thinks we’d kill his woman?’ he said. ‘Is that what he thinks we are? Murderers?’

‘You’re holding a dagger to an innocent man’s throat, Finn,’ Froi snapped. ‘He builds cisterns and plans water meadows and waterwheels. You collected all the information, but you got it wrong. Most times we’re right, Perri once told me. This time you’re wrong!’

Froi couldn’t stand the silence. He couldn’t stand to hear the sound of Gargarin’s ragged breath and Lirah’s despair. Just as he was about to lower his weapon, he watched Finnikin release both the dagger and his hold on Gargarin, who crumpled at his feet.

Froi dropped his dagger and Lirah was suddenly beside them, holding the staff, helping Gargarin to his feet. Somehow they managed to separate into two groups with space between them. Despite the absence of swords and daggers, the atmosphere was tense. Perri’s stare was fixed on Gargarin.

‘Where do I know you from?’ he demanded.

‘You don’t know him,’ Froi said, tiredly. ‘Just leave it, Perri. He doesn’t understand what you’re saying.’

Perri’s hand snaked out and gripped Froi by the throat, pulling him close. ‘Speak Lumateran, Froi! Or have you forgotten how to?’

And Froi felt a shame beyond reason. It made him despise the Charynite tongue to know it had such control. All this time, he hadn’t spoken a word of Lumateran.

Perri didn’t let go. ‘Since when do you hold a weapon to your king’s throat?’ he raged quietly. ‘Since when do you disappear for so long and take up with an enemy of Lumatere?’

Froi pulled free, viciously. ‘Since you sent me into Charyn to create holy hell. Isn’t that what you’d call it, Perri? Because this is hell enough for me!’

He walked away, trying to think. All this meant was that he was even further away from finding Quintana and their child.

‘How did you manage to get the Belegonian letters?’ he demanded, swinging back to face them.

Finnikin didn’t respond.

‘How?’

‘We have … a spy.’

Finnikin refused to meet his eye.

‘A spy? In Belegonia?’ Froi was confused and then it registered.

‘Celie? Our Celie? You put her life in danger? Isaboe would never have allowed that!’

Finnikin was suddenly advancing on him. ‘Oh, really? You know what my wife would allow, do you? An expert on all things Isaboe?’

Finnikin was deadly in one of these moods.

‘I know Isaboe well enough,’ Froi said. ‘She would –’

Finnikin flew at him, knocking Froi down. Froi shoved him back and they wrestled, rolling in the dirt towards where the others stood.

‘Are you going to stop them?’ he heard Gargarin ask Trevanion and Perri.