Quintana of Charyn (19 page)

‘We were all so sad and he cried and cried for you,’ she explained. ‘We all did.’

She patted the dog.

‘He’s only slept with us when he’s cold and lonely,’ she said.

Finnikin stared at her with disbelief.

‘Isaboe, he is a hound. He will feign loneliness for the rest of his life just to lie on this bed. My bed. I was the king of this bed.’

He was woeful, but at the sound of the dog snoring, Isaboe could see a ghost of a smile on his face.

She could already hear the world they had to tend to outside calling to them, but for now it was just the three of them … and the hound, and Isaboe understood that happiness came in such moments and she savoured it.

 

 

I
see Tesadora in the woods, scraping sap from the trees. She knows I am there and she turns, holds my stare. She knows me, she knows me, she can see deep within.

‘Is it true that you love me more than the Lumateran Queen?’ I ask.

It’s the news that I’ve heard, it makes my blood sing. She walks to me, smiling, takes my face in her hands. But standing so closely, I see the truth in her eyes.

‘I love Isaboe of Lumatere with all my heart.’

I pull free from her grip and I clench both my fists.

‘Do you love her more than the scarred one?’ I demand.

‘His name is Perri and he doesn’t like to be reminded of his scar. So don’t mention it,’ she adds with a mocking whisper.

‘Would he be handsome to you without it?’

‘I was the one who put it there,’ she says with a shrug. ‘And he’s handsome enough with it.’

‘Do you love your Perri more than the Queen of Lumatere?’ I ask again.

‘If I love him less, does that make it less than love?’

‘But if you had to choose between them?’

‘I don’t want to live in a world where I have to choose,’ she says, and I hear fury in her voice and I dance on its embers. It’s for the other, that bitch queen who dared threaten my life. I’ll kill her for that, I’ll slice her to pieces. A jab to the side and a blade ear to ear.

‘And if your scarred lover doesn’t come down the mountain because she forbids him?’ I ask. ‘What then?’

‘Then so be it,’ Tesadora says. ‘They’ll both lose me.’

‘And it will just be you and me,’ I say. ‘That’s why you stayed in the valley. For me.’

And she looks at me sadly and I see tears pool in her eyes.

‘I stayed here because Isaboe can live without me. You can’t. You’re a pathetic lost spirit with no one.’

And I hold back my hurt, Froi. The hurt that you’ve seen.

‘Put away those savage teeth,’ she laughs. ‘They don’t scare me the slightest.’

And she grips my chin so I cannot break free.

‘Do you know what I just did, my broken little savage?’ she asks. ‘I told a truth. Do you understand the power truth has to hurt? Ask me why I stay again and I’ll find better words.’

If it was you, would you ask, Froi, or would you just walk away? But I’m desperate to know and I wait for the strength.

‘Is it true that you love me more than the Queen?’ I say and my voice is small and frightened. I don’t want to hear this truth twice.

‘I love the Queen with all my heart,’ she says. ‘But, for now, my place is here, because I’ll do anything to protect you. I can’t explain why. You’re on your own and I can’t bear the idea of someone hurting you.’

I unclench my fists. I like her new words.

‘Better?’ she asks and I nod in relief.

‘Understand what your truth does to others,’ she says. ‘Others such as Phaedra, my savage cat. Think for a moment. Not every thought in your head has to come out of your mouth.’

I don’t understand.

‘Learn to cloak your words, Quintana. Not with lies, but without so much truth. Do you want everyone like Phaedra to walk away from you, bleeding in spirit?’

I stay next to her and I work alongside her, watching the way she tears the bark into strips, and when everything’s silent, she looks deep in my eyes.

‘Who else is in there with you? Who else, my noble little savage?’

And I feel the tears in my eyes, but I don’t let them fall.

But she takes my hand and presses it to her cheek and I speak words I’ve never said aloud.

‘Sometimes … sometimes … it seems I’m bits and pieces and she … my sister, the Reginita … she was able to make sense of it all. I’d say, “Look after them! I don’t have the time,” and she’d say, “They’re part of us now. Not whole beings, but part of you. They want to go home, but they can’t. Because they’re not complete.”’

Tesadora stares at me, her face pale.

‘And I don’t understand her,’ I say. ‘So don’t ask me more.’

‘What are you hiding from me?’ Tesadora asks.

And I place my head against her heart. ‘Tesadora,’ I say. ‘I think the half-dead spirit of your child lives within me.’

 

 

P
haedra heard the crunch of leaves coming closer and closer and hid deeper inside the shelter, praying it wasn’t Donashe or one of his men. No matter how hard she tried to convince herself that the camp leaders would not venture so far downstream, she had no trust in Donashe’s vow to the Monts that he would not cross. These men were opportunists of the worst kind and she feared what would happen if they ever found out the truth of who Phaedra and the women were hiding.

She saw two pairs of feet and caught her breath until Tesadora squatted down to stare inside.

‘We’ve been looking for you,’ Tesadora said, none too pleased. ‘She’s refused to return to the cave and we can’t have her running around without anyone keeping an eye on her.’

She
appeared a moment later to peer into the shelter.

‘And this belongs to me,’ Quintana said coldly, annoyed. ‘If you want to use it, Phaedra, ask me in the future.’

‘Well, if you must know, it belongs to the Lumaterans,’ Phaedra said. ‘Perhaps we can travel to the palace and ask Isaboe of Lumatere for permission, so we can both use it. What say you?
She seemed to have taken a shine to you last time we all met.’

Quintana crawled in beside Phaedra, who shoved her hard out of the way.

The Princess hissed. ‘You could have harmed the little King.’

‘I shoved you in the arm, not the belly,’ Phaedra said. ‘And I was here first.’

She heard Tesadora’s sound of annoyance.

‘Are you sulking?’ Tesadora asked.

‘She is,’ Quintana said. ‘About the Mont.’

Phaedra ignored them, not wanting to give Quintana the satisfaction of reacting. She was going to hold her tongue if it was the last thing she’d do.

‘You have no idea what it felt like that everyone knew the business of my spousal home!’ she cried out, because Phaedra failed at most instructions to herself.

Quintana stared at her with disdain. ‘No idea? What a thing to say.’ She waved Phaedra off, as if an irritant. ‘One gets used to the whole kingdom knowing when you’re swiving,’ she said to Tesadora as if Phaedra wasn’t present. ‘If that’s the worst thing that’s going to happen to her, she’s fortunate indeed.’

‘Just go away, Your Majesty. Tesadora is right. You’re safer in the cave with Cora and the others.’

Quintana’s lip curled with distaste. ‘I can’t bear another day with them. The hag was already at it with the slut this morning.’

‘Can she at least try to remember their names?’ Phaedra said to Tesadora.

‘I remember their names perfectly well.’ The Princess sent her a look of irritation. ‘Have I not told you about my memory for detail?’

Phaedra wanted to scream with frustration. The delusion would have been amusing if she wasn’t speaking to the future heir’s mother.

‘No? Well, I should have mentioned it.’ Quintana spoke as if Phaedra had responded. ‘I know all their names. I know the names of every woman who slighted Ginny in her village and every lad who has so much as winked at Florenza and every person in the valley who irritates Cora. It’s all they speak of day in and day out.’

‘You do not,’ Phaedra said.

‘Oh, I do.’

Phaedra looked out to where Tesadora was still crouched. ‘She does not.’

‘I think she does,’ Tesadora said with a sigh. ‘She’s quite extraordinary.’

Phaedra bit her tongue, well and truly sick of Tesadora’s awe of the Queen of Uselessness.

‘Go on,’ Tesadora said to Quintana. ‘Let’s get this over and done with. Prove her wrong. Florenza’s suitors to begin with.’

‘Josslyn, Kent, Freshier, Arns, Mitcheloi, Samule, Talbot, Patroy, Idiotjoy.’

Tesadora gave Phaedra a meaningful look. ‘Don’t get her started on how many bricks held up her chamber in the palace of the Citavita, or how many steps there are in the second tower, or how many leaves there are in this forest with a red-gold tinge.’

‘She made up that last name. Florenza has never mentioned an Idiotjoy.’

Tesadora laughed and finally stood.

‘Look after each other, you silly fools. All this running around will end with someone getting caught. Rafuel insists that one of those men is onto him.’

‘Which one?’ Phaedra asked, her stomach twisting at the thought of being captured.

‘The squat one with fair hair,’ Quintana responded. ‘The hangman.’

They both stared at her. Phaedra shivered to see the look of terror on Quintana’s face.

Phaedra knew exactly who she was referring to. He was the one always whispering in Donashe’s ear.

‘He wants to impress Donashe and seems to resent our Matteo,’ Tesadora said. ‘You’ll protect yourselves in numbers. Not on your own.’

With that she walked away.

Phaedra felt Quintana studying her.

‘We’re going to need weapons,’ Quintana said.

‘And where will we get these weapons?’

‘I watched Froi.’ Quintana crawled outside. ‘We’re going to have to be practical. Come.’

Phaedra followed reluctantly and watched the Princess collect sturdy tree limbs and scrounge for stone.

‘We can’t survive with only a dagger and bare hands to find us food,’ the now Princess of Practicality said. ‘We’re going to have to make spears. That way we can better catch the trout. Further downstream I saw an elk, too.’

‘Spears? An elk? You’ll never catch an elk,’ Phaedra said.

‘I’m hungry.’ There was the cold determination again. ‘If I’m hungry, so is this child and if I have to catch an elk to feed it, I’ll do it.’

She ordered Phaedra to collect a certain type of stone, describing its features. Phaedra collected anything she could find, holding them up in her skirt to show her. Quintana chose carefully and made rude sounds of annoyance if Phaedra had collected one not to her liking.

‘It’s for a purpose, fool. We need to make a flint fuse. This,’ Quintana said, selecting a stone, ‘will not do. And we need a hammer stone to shape it.’

Then they collected more branches and Quintana measured two to both their heights. And the more Phaedra watched the
certainty in her movements, the more she found herself responding to the Princess’s orders.

Once they were ready, they sat in the shelter working at creating a spearhead out of flint, using the hammer stone. Phaedra enjoyed hearing nothing but the sounds of their labour.

Once or twice she felt Quintana’s eyes on her, but she didn’t want to look up. It was too small a space to endure her stare, so Phaedra kept her head down.

‘I only enjoyed it with the Lumateran … Froi,’ Quintana said quietly.

‘What?’

‘It.’

Phaedra’s peace was over. She felt an anger rise up inside her at the memory of her humiliation that day with Lucian and the Lumaterans.

‘You’re mocking me.’

‘I’m not at all.’

Phaedra studied her suspiciously, hoping that any conversation about mating would not take place again. She was happy when they continued their work in silence. But not for long.

‘Even if he did live,’ Quintana said, her hands clenched fiercely around the hammer stone and flint spearhead, ‘there’s no life for us together.’

Don’t let me want to like her,
Phaedra pleaded with the gods.
Don’t let her bewitch me like she’s bewitched Vestie of the Flatlands and Tesadora.

The Princess glanced down at her belly. ‘One of the many blessings of this is that I don’t ever have to lie with a man again. If they don’t kill me, they’ll wed me to some idiot nobleman, and do you know what I’ll say on my wedding night? I’ll say, “Charyn already has an heir and cursebreaker. Leave me to my peace.”’

Quintana sounded weary of the world, and her focus was back on her task.

‘How did you learn to do that?’ Phaedra asked quietly, watching her shape the stone.

‘I have a good head for detail. I watch. I learn.’

There was arrogance in her voice, as if everyone else was a total fool.

‘Then if you watch and learn, why is it that you can’t do your hair? Something so simple?’ Phaedra tried to lighten the mood.

Quintana looked up, questioningly.

‘I think you’re being mean.’

‘No, actually I spoke in jest,’ Phaedra said.

‘Well, you’re not very good at being funny, Phaedra. Don’t try it again.’

And they left it at that.

They worked for the rest of the afternoon, scraping stone against stone, sharpening the flint on each side. By the time the sky began to darken, Phaedra’s hands were bloody, every line and crevice filled with filth. Quintana stood, handed Phaedra the tree limb of her length, and they both forced the stone into the end of the branch until it was secure. Quintana gripped the branch at its centre and made a move to jab at Phaedra, her savage teeth showing a hint of glee. Phaedra stumbled back, her throat constricting. Their very mad princess was now armed. Apart from Donashe and his men finding them, Phaedra couldn’t think of anything more frightening.

‘You try,’ Quintana said and Phaedra held the weapon. Quintana adjusted Phaedra’s hand until her grip on the spear was firm.

‘If the Mont holds a dagger to your throat again,’ the Princess promised coldly, ‘I’ll rip him from crown to heel.’

Phaedra shivered. She saw the vicious teeth appear again in a smile of satisfaction.

‘Let’s go slaughter something,’ Quintana said. ‘We’ll see if they call me useless with their bellies filled.’

‘You’ve got to stop saying that,’ Phaedra said quietly. ‘About the women thinking you’re useless.’

‘You’re the one who’s said it yourself about both of us,’ Quintana taunted. ‘And I’m sure you and the women have called me other names. An abomination? A whore? Have I missed anything? Go on! Speak the truth.’

Phaedra swallowed hard. Oh, all those words and more. Mad. Indulged. Delusional. Cold. Vicious. Broken.

‘It doesn’t matter what we’ve said in the past; you need to endear yourself to your people, Your Majesty,’ Phaedra said.

Quintana leant forward conspiratorially, as if someone was close by. ‘I’m not too fussed about that title, really, Phaedra. It’s what they used to call my father, and I only stress the use of it when I’m dealing with the likes of those fishwives in the cave. You may refer to me as …’

She thought for a moment, her brow creased in thought.

‘You may refer to me as Your Highness, instead.’

Phaedra couldn’t stop a laugh.

‘I think I’m going to call you Quintana, actually.’

Quintana’s eyes narrowed.

‘Only because the Queen of Lumatere is referred to as Isaboe by those close to her.’ Phaedra nodded, enjoying herself. ‘Froi called her Isaboe as well. If the Queen of Lumatere discovers that those close to the Queen of Charyn use such a formal title … well, she’ll think that the Queen of Charyn can’t make friends.’

Quintana’s contemplation was thorough.

‘She’s not as beautiful as people say, you know,’ Quintana said. ‘But the little person Vistie was.’

‘Vestie.’

‘The little person has a voice … much like someone I once knew … my sister, if you’d like to know.’

Phaedra was surprised. ‘I didn’t realise you had a sister.’

‘In here I did,’ Quintana said, pointing to herself.

Phaedra thought a moment. ‘I understand about Vestie. The little ones on the mountain … they made me feel a joy and sadness beyond reckoning.’

‘Is that how you feel about your Mont?’

‘I don’t want to talk about him,’ Phaedra said quietly.

‘He’s very handsome.’

Phaedra had to agree and, glancing at Quintana, she thought that perhaps the Princess wasn’t so bad after all.

‘It’s a pity about his swiving, though.’

And Phaedra saw her smile with a hint of mischief in it and she couldn’t help smiling herself and then she was laughing. They both were, and the savage teeth were the most joyous sight Phaedra had seen for a long time. It was as if they were dancing. There it was. Suddenly the strangeness of Quintana of Charyn’s face made sense. Because it was a face meant for laughing, but it had never been given a chance. It robbed Phaedra of her breath.

In the palace village, Lucian said his goodbyes to Lord Tascan. He had come to the capital for discussions with Finnikin and Sir Topher that had been a great success. Finnikin’s market day would be open to other kingdoms for the first time since the end of the curse. It would bring to Lumatere cloth merchants from Belegonia, drapers from Osteria, weavers from Sarnak. All interested in Mont fleece, which every Mont knew was second to none in the kingdom, even the land. Added to that was Lord Tascan’s suggestion of a possible exchange of goods. His villagers grew sugar beet and barley.

‘We’ll talk on market day,’ Lucian said. ‘I’m to judge the barley,’ he added. ‘A neutral eye is required, according to our consort.’

Suddenly Lady Zarah was there beside her father.

‘What a surprise to see you here, Father,’ she trilled softly.
She said something to Lucian, but he could hardly hear and was forced to move closer. There was too much noise in the palace village today.

‘Just saying my goodbyes to the lad here,’ Lord Tascan said, handing Lucian a flask.

‘The best wine this land has to offer,’ he promised. ‘A gift from the King of Osteria for my service to him.’