Quintana of Charyn (12 page)

 

 

L
ucian issued the order more than once as he travelled down the mountain. It was firm and spoken in a tone that was not open to discussion.

‘Go. Home.’

His cousins Constance and Sandrine followed, all the same. Their brothers and fathers had refused to allow them horses, so the girls had resorted to riding on donkeys. Lucian’s peace and quiet on the mountain was all but over.

‘If Tesadora has returned to her work with them, why can’t we?’ Constance shouted back.

‘Because it’s not your work,’ he said. ‘It’s not our duty or our work to take care of them. It’s Charyn’s.’

‘But the valley dwellers are running from Charyn,’ Sandrine argued. ‘So why would we expect that the very kingdom they’re running from will feed them?’

Lucian didn’t have a response for that. He had a response for very little these days, despite the questions that plagued him. And the guilt. He had held a knife to his wife’s throat. His wife who had betrayed him.

What he did know for certain was that there was talk of starvation in the valley and it was his duty, not as a Lumateran but as a man, to see how the valley dwellers were faring. He watched them for a while across the stream. They looked frail, older than the last time he had seen them. Harker was working with Kasabian on the vegetable patch that was yielding very little. Harker’s movements were furious as he hacked at the earth. After all they had done to get to this valley, he had lost a wife and daughter to plague. But had he? If Phaedra was alive, it could mean the others lived, as well. Cora, too. And the other girl whose name he could not remember. He crossed the stream and within moments Constance and Sandrine were hurrying ahead towards Tesadora, who was on the rock face of one of the higher caves. He was about to follow, but stopped at the sight of Rafuel sitting outside one of the lower caves with Donashe and his men.

Weeks before the supposed death of Phaedra and the women, Rafuel had been a prisoner of Lumatere. Circumstances had changed Lucian’s mind about the Charynite and a trust had built between them. Lucian and the Queen’s Guard had agreed to send Rafuel down to the valley as a spy for both Lumatere and for the Charynite Priests Rafuel answered to. Men who were desperate for peace in their kingdom. Within days, Rafuel, taking the name Matteo, had established a place alongside Donashe, the leader of a group of cutthroats who had slaughtered seven unarmed supposed Charynite traitors. Donashe answered to those who had taken control of Charyn’s army, and Lucian knew that the people of the valley feared for their lives. But they had nowhere else to go, and Lucian had no way of getting rid of Donashe and his men without involving Lumatere in a war.

Since Phaedra’s ‘death’ Lucian had no idea who Rafuel was aligned with. All he knew was that Rafuel had been the one to remove the five women from the caves and had lied about
Phaedra’s death. What else had he lied about?

Lucian wanted answers. He made his way towards the group, his eyes meeting Rafuel’s the moment the Charynite looked up. Rafuel stood, and as soon as he was close, Lucian’s fist connected with Rafuel’s face. He watched the Charynite’s head snap back as he stumbled to the ground. Suddenly the murderer Donashe was up on his feet, furious.

‘It’s nothing,’ Rafuel said, fighting to regain his breath, wiping blood from his mouth. ‘Leave it, Donashe. These Monts cannot control their emotions.’

‘You are a lying traitor –’

‘Lucian!’ Tesadora shouted and Lucian heard the warning in her voice as she scrambled down the rock steps followed by his cousins and Japhra. ‘This is my fight,’ she said, pulling him away. ‘Japhra is one of my girls.’ Tesadora gripped Lucian’s arm, her fingernails deep in his flesh. She was protecting Rafuel, making it seem as if Lucian’s fury was about Rafuel sharing a bed with a Lumateran girl.

‘Is this about one of their women?’ Donashe asked, laughing. He held a hand out to Rafuel, lifting him to his feet, patting him on the back.

Lucian pointed a finger at Rafuel.

‘I want a word in private.’

‘Perhaps our Matteo is a man much like yourself, friend,’ Donashe said to Lucian. ‘Perhaps he enjoys pounding into women of foreign blood.’

Lucian flew at Donashe and it took Rafuel, Tesadora and Japhra to hold him back. Kasabian rushed towards them, standing between Lucian and the camp leader.

‘We don’t pound into our women like you Charynite rapists!’ Lucian shouted.

‘What are you doing, lad?’ Kasabian asked, trying to push
him back. ‘Ignore him, Lucian. Come now.’

Lucian’s blood boiled, and his gaze fixed on Donashe, who had the smarts to look afraid.

‘Call me friend again and I’ll cut out your tongue,’ Lucian threatened before he looked at Rafuel. ‘I said I want a word.’

‘Go with him,’ Donashe said to Rafuel, relishing the control he believed he had in the valley. Lucian gripped Rafuel and pushed him forward as they walked back towards the stream. Rafuel stumbled.

When they were at a distance, Lucian flew at the Charynite again.

‘Lucian!’ Tesadora shouted. ‘What’s got into you?’

‘What’s got into me, Tesadora?’ he seethed. ‘What’s got into you? Choosing that mad-bitch daughter of our enemy over our queen?’

Rafuel closed his eyes, shaking his head. ‘You’ve seen her?’

Lucian’s fist connected again and when Rafuel was down, he pushed the Charynite’s face into the ground. Tesadora and Japhra pulled him away.

‘Colluding with this traitor, Tesadora?’ Lucian asked, staring down at Rafuel.

‘Traitor to whom?’ Rafuel hissed, pushing him. ‘I’m not working for you, Mont. I’m not working for him,’ he added, pointing back to Donashe who was watching. ‘I’m here for my people. I’m a traitor to no one.’

‘Talk,’ Lucian ordered. ‘We don’t have time; so if you have something to hide from your friends, talk to me now, Rafuel. Or that princess you have hidden may not be hiding too much longer.’

Rafuel’s eyes met Tesadora’s with regret.

‘How did you find her?’ he asked.

‘My queen almost took a dagger to her throat,’ Tesadora said.
‘Who is taking care of things out there, Rafuel? She’s running around like a savage.’

‘
Gods!
’ Rafuel cursed. ‘Who else knows?’

Lucian watched Kasabian approach.

‘Not a word,’ Rafuel whispered hoarsely. ‘Not a word, I’m begging you.’ His eyes found Japhra’s. ‘I need to see the woman and at least Donashe won’t question why I’m not in the camp if I’m with you, Japhra.’

‘No,’ Lucian said.

‘Enough!’ Japhra said firmly and Lucian saw the surprise on everyone’s faces. ‘I answer for myself,’ Japhra said. She looked at Rafuel and nodded and he walked back towards Donashe and his men. Lucian watched them surround Rafuel, clapping him on the back. It made Lucian’s blood boil again. They were congratulating him on having a Lumateran woman.

‘Do you feel no shame?’ he said to Tesadora and Japhra.

‘Only for you,’ Tesadora said, her voice cold.

Harker was there before him.

‘You’ve been a stranger to us, Mont.’

‘I’ve been a stranger to myself, Harker,’ he said. ‘What goes on here?’

Harker shook his head. ‘Nothing good. You’ve heard about Alonso and how they’ve stopped the grain wagons? Donashe and his pigs consume any food we do get. These people are starving, Lucian. And just up there,’ Harker said, pointing to Lucian’s mountain, ‘your people are filling their bellies.
Just up there
.’

Lucian didn’t know what to say. He could have convinced himself that these people were not Lumatere’s responsibility, but how could they not be?

‘Come,’ Tesadora said to Lucian quietly. Reluctantly, he followed her up into the caves. She wanted him to see firsthand, but he didn’t have to. What was he expected to do? Defy Isaboe?

The valley dwellers were listless, worse than they were in the days Phaedra had kept their spirits high. There was barely any talk among them and the only emotion they seemed to show was a pitiful flare of hope at the return of Tesadora and the girls. Later, they entered a cave where a handful of the men sat miserably. One man clutched Tesadora’s arm.

‘Can you see to my wife?’ he asked her. ‘They won’t let us share the same cave and I know she’s not herself here,’ he said, pointing to his heart.

‘Does she suffer from melancholy?’ Tesadora asked.

‘I’ve not seen her in such a way since … since a long time ago. Since the first day of weeping eighteen years past.’

Lucian saw sorrow on Tesadora’s face. ‘You lost a babe?’ she asked huskily.

The man nodded. ‘It was so close to being birthed,’ he said. ‘And then it was gone. But we learned to live with our pain and my wife swallowed her grief. Until now. Until all those weeks ago … on our journey here to the valley. We came across a girl … a mad-looking girl, who begged us for a ride. From the first moment my wife … even myself … from the first moment we saw her, there was a bond I cannot explain.’

Tesadora looked up at Lucian. ‘Repeat his words in case there are some I don’t understand.’ She looked at the man. ‘Speak.’

The man smiled at the memory. ‘It was as though I could look into the girl’s eyes and see a spirit I knew. My wife felt the same.’ The man shook his head. ‘And then she was gone.’

‘Gone where?’ Lucian asked.

‘Dead. From the plague. She was one of the younger women who took ill.’

The man’s face was pained. ‘And for my wife, it was as though we lost our unborn babe again.’

Lucian heard the intake of Tesadora’s breath. She bent
forward and cupped the man’s face in her hands.

‘I’ll go see your wife,’ she said.

Lucian followed Tesadora out of the cave.

‘Is it her?’ he asked quietly. ‘The girl he was speaking of? Is it that … princess?’

‘Shh. And don’t speak of her again,’ Tesadora warned. ‘Don’t you risk her life, Lucian. Enough has been lost. Do you understand? Enough.’

There was more than a warning in her voice. And Lucian remembered the day they had first interrogated Rafuel in the prison on the mountain. ‘Have you noticed anything strange in the valley?’ the Charynite had asked. Lucian remembered how Tesadora had been the one to guess that day. There were no children in the valley. They had bled from the loins of the women. Tesadora had left the prison, shattered. Lucian knew she was half-Charynite. She claimed it was her Charyn blood that called her to this valley.

‘You lost a babe?’ Lucian said. ‘Eighteen years past?’

Tesadora stared up at him and continued to walk, but Lucian gripped her hand.

‘On the day of their weeping, you bled, didn’t you, Tesadora?’

Tesadora pulled away and Lucian saw the tears that refused to fall.

‘Mind your business, Lucian,’ she said, her voice cold. ‘And feed these people, or may the food you put into your own mouth turn to parchment.’

Late that night, Phaedra heard a sound outside their cave.

‘Did you hear that?’ Cora asked.

‘Shh.’

There was silence. Nothing but the sound of the malevolent wind. And then Phaedra heard it again. Three short whistles. Rafuel.

They hadn’t seen Rafuel for weeks and something inside Phaedra made her feel uneasy. She held a finger to her lips to signal the others to stay silent. Until she saw Tesadora and Japhra and the Mont girls, Constance and Sandrine. The Mont girls gaped when they saw Phaedra.

‘How … how could you do that to us?’ Constance said. ‘After we gave you a home. How could you do that to Lucian?’

‘I warned you not to make a fuss,’ Tesadora told Constance. ‘If you can’t keep silent, go back to the camp.’

Sandrine began to weep, while Constance stared at Phaedra with anger. And hurt.

Meanwhile, Phaedra’s companions were as furious as the Monts, turning on Rafuel.

‘Why trust Lumaterans over Gies and our men?’ Ginny cried.

‘You need to tell Harker,’ Jorja said.

‘Father will know what to do,’ Florenza added.

‘If you can trust anyone, it’s Kasabian,’ Cora snapped.

Tesadora threw them a scathing look.

‘You’d think death would have silenced you all,’ she muttered. She knelt beside Quintana, and Phaedra saw the beauty of Tesadora’s face now more than ever. Her eyes, normally so hostile, danced with joy and life, with an almost purple hue to them. Her hair looked silver in the light of the moon. Phaedra had only seen Tesadora this animated once before. When the Queen of Lumatere had sat in her tent with Princess Jasmina on her lap, laughing with the women of her kingdom. And now, here with Quintana. Deep down, Phaedra had wanted Tesadora’s laughter and warmth herself.

The Princess responded to Tesadora’s presence with a show of savage teeth, the closest thing she had to a smile.

‘Are you going to let Japhra see to you?’ Tesadora asked Quintana, her Charyn still weak.

‘I’ll translate if you want,’ Phaedra said.

Tesadora waved her away. ‘Oh, we understand each other, don’t we, my little savage?’

Quintana looked almost haughty with such attention, her smile now wolfish. Tesadora laughed and held a gentle hand to her cheek.

‘Japhra is the best midwife we have. More than a midwife. Gifted beyond imagining.’ Tesadora gently lay Quintana down. ‘It will seem as if she’s doing strange things, but it’s only to ensure the babe is safe.’