Froi of the Exiles Read Online Free PDF Page B

hesitantly.
    ‘Go,’ the man said gently. ‘You’ve risked enough, Little Sparrow, and we are grateful indeed.’
    Lucian bared his teeth. The Charynite gave a small humourless laugh as Phaedra left the cell.
    ‘Foolish of you to have let her leave your spously bed, Mont. If she had been given the chance, Phaedra of Alonso would have been the first step to peace.’
    ‘What makes you think we’re after peace with Charynites?’ Lucian asked.
    ‘Because Japhra of the Flatlands speaks of it in her sleep.’
    Tesadora hissed with fury. ‘Don’t speak her name again or you’ll be choking on your own blood.’
    ‘Japhra’s a woman with worth beyond your imagining,’ he continued, as if Tesadora had not threatened his life. But Froi saw moisture gather on the Charynite’s brow and knew that Trevanion’s close proximity and Tesadora’s presence unsettled him more than he would care to admit.
    ‘Some women learn to listen better when they speak little.’ The Charynite’s eyes fixed on Finnikin again. ‘Did you not learn that from your queen in her mute days?’
    Finnikin finally spoke. ‘You are pushing my patience, Charynite, and if you make one more reference to our women, including my queen, I will beg a dagger from my kinsmen and slice you from ear to ear. So speak.’
    The Charynite kept his focus on Finnikin.
    ‘My name is Rafuel from the Charynite province of Sebastabol. I’m here in the valley with seven other men.’ He waited a moment for Lucian to translate. Rafuel met Trevanion’s stare. ‘I have a way of getting you into the palace, gentlemen. To do both our kingdoms a great justice.
    ‘To kill the King of Charyn.’
    Froi could sense that the others were as stunned as he was to hear the words, but there was little reaction.
    ‘And why would we trust you, Charynite?’ Finnikin asked.
    ‘Because we have something in common, Your Majesty.’
    ‘We have nothing in common.’
    ‘Not even a curse?’ Rafuel said, calmly.
    ‘Sagra!’ Froi muttered. Another godsforsaken curse.
    Rafuel’s eyes met Froi’s again.
    ‘Our curse was first,’ Rafuel of Sebastabol said.
    ‘Really?’ Finnikin asked, sarcasm lacing his words. ‘Was it worse than ours?’
    Rafuel sighed, sadly. ‘If we sit and compare, Your Majesty, perhaps I may win, but we will all be left with very little in the end.’
    Finnikin pushed past his father and grabbed the man to his feet, his teeth gritted. ‘How could you possibly win? My queen suffers with this curse.’
    ‘And so does her king, I hear.’
    The Charynite had the power of saying so much in the most even of tones.
    ‘Did you not notice anything peculiar when you passed through Charyn during your exile?’ the Charynite continued.
    Finnikin regained his composure and shoved the man away. ‘I passed through Charyn three times only. The first was when I was ten and visited the palace with Sir Topher, the Queen’s First Man. We were consigned to one chamber and spoke to no one. The second time was three years ago when we were searching for exiles and I can’t recall a friendly chat from a Charynite back then either. And the third time, a group of your soldiers took forty of our people hostage on the Osterian border and beat up our boy,’ he said, pointing back to Froi.
    ‘
Your
boy?’ the Charynite questioned, his eyes meeting Froi’s. ‘Are you sure of that?’
    Tesadora flew at him, but Perri held her back.
    ‘Why does he still breathe?’ she demanded. ‘It’s simple. Snap his neck.’
    Rafuel was staring at her, almost in wonder. ‘That’s the Charyn Serker in you, Tesadora of the Forest Dwellers.’
    This time Perri let her go and Froi watched Tesadora throw herself at the Charynite, her fingers clawing his face. Froi had heard stories of her half-Charyn blood, but no one dared speak of it. Perri waited a moment or two, enough time for her to draw more blood. Only then did he calmly step forward to pull her away. Froi felt an instant regret that it