Melina Marchetta - Quintana of Charyn

‘Trevanion has spoken of the same thing,’ Beatriss said with a meaningful look.

Abian continued her counting and recording of the grain sacks.

‘Is your silence about Celie?’ Isaboe asked.

Abian was not one for restraint, but finished what she was writing before giving them her full attention.

‘August is livid,’ she said. ‘And I can’t say I’m too happy about it, either. Our daughter spying for the Belegonians!’

‘It’s not spying at all,’ Isaboe said in a light tone with a shrug. ‘It’s stealing mail. Jasmina steals mail all the time. She loves the colourful seals on the notes, and days later we find the most important of letters in obscure places around the palace.’

Abian seemed in no mood for humour, but Isaboe was in no mood for wasting time. ‘We would never put Celie’s life in danger. Stealing the mail was her idea. And this anger … your anger, is not about Celie. You and August distanced yourselves from me long before Celie gave us the news from Belegonia.’

Abian collected the records and placed them on a shelf built into the wall.

‘This matter with Froi …’

Isaboe stiffened. She shook her head, not wanting to hear another word.

‘Well, if you must know, it’s affected us all,’ Abian said. ‘Froi’s been part of our family all these years and then suddenly he was gone, sent away on some mission to Sarnak, which we then find out is Charyn. We’ve waited all autumn and it’s almost winter’s end and still he’s not home. Now there’s talk about Froi collaborating with the tyrant who was behind the slaughter in this kingdom. Talon and the boys are furious to hear those words from others. Froi is a brother to them and it’s too much to bear.’

‘He doesn’t belong to you, Abian.’

‘How can you say that, my queen? Does one have to be blood kin to be considered family? We love him as a son. Celie and the boys miss him terribly. Celie’s reckless actions are a reflection of how she’s feeling. She wants to know where the brother of her heart is and stays in the Belegonian court for any whiff of information about Charyn.’

‘Celie has a reckless spirit, Abian. She inherited that from you, despite her pretty politeness and quiet ways. You should celebrate the fact that she’s her mother’s daughter.’

But Isaboe could see Abian didn’t want to hear it.

‘Will it always be my children, Your Majesty? Augie’s and mine? First Froi and next Celie, and then the boys. Do you know what they say in the Belegonian and Sarnak and Osterian courts? Probably in Charyn, too? That the children of a Lumateran Flatland lord are a prize in this land. Sired by the gods themselves, and the perfect marriage match. It’s as close to Lumateran royalty as one can find. Are all my children going to be sacrificed for the protection of this kingdom?’

Isaboe heard a sad sigh from Beatriss, but she was too angry to care.

‘Yes,’ she said coldly. ‘Your children will be used to impress our neighbours, Lady Abian,’ she added, stressing the formality. ‘And I’ll watch you closely, as will Finnikin. You and Lord August will be our guides. So when the time comes for our daughter to be given to a useless son of a foreign king to keep this kingdom safe, I’ll know how to hold back my tears because I will have learnt from you!’

There was stone-cold silence in the room.

Jasmina and Vestie came racing back, giggling and panting with fatigue. But as they did, Jasmina tripped and fell, her head hitting the floor. Abian was closest, picking her up in her arms as they all crowded around, soothing Jasmina’s cries with words and soft kisses. Finally Abian placed her in Isaboe’s arms and pressed a kiss to both their cheeks.

‘I spoke out of line.’ Abian shook her head with regret. ‘But promise me that Trevanion and Perri have not been sent to Charyn to …’

‘Abian, enough,’ Beatriss said, sorrow in her voice. ‘Froi means everything to the Guard. To Isaboe and Finnikin and all of us. If he’s done any wrong, he will be dealt with here. Fairly.’

Isaboe rocked her daughter in her arms. ‘It always ends in tears, my love,’ she murmured. ‘All this silliness ends in tears.’

When everything was calm except for Jasmina’s quiet sobs, Tarah served them sweet bread and honey brew and they sat talking a while about Beatriss and Vestie’s time on the mountain.

Vestie came to stand by them, brushing Jasmina’s cheek with a gentle hand until the little sobs were merely hiccups.

‘Is it true I’m her aunt?’ Vestie asked.

‘Well, you’re Finnikin’s sister now, so I suppose that does make you Jasmina’s aunt,’ Isaboe said.

‘Can I look after her, then, Isaboe?’

Isaboe nodded. ‘Always, precious.’

‘I’ll take her to the valley to meet my new friend.’

Beatriss grimaced. ‘I said no more talk of that, Vestie.’

Isaboe could see Beatriss was still shaken by the incident. Isaboe had heard about it from the Guard that morning and it frightened her to think of how they almost lost Vestie.

‘Do you think Millie will cheer Jasmina up?’ Vestie asked, referring to her doll.

‘She cheers everyone up. Go get her,’ Beatriss said, and Vestie skipped away as Jasmina lifted her head to peer towards where her older friend had gone.

‘Are we sure she wasn’t taken from her bed?’ Isaboe asked quietly.

Beatriss shook her head. ‘Vestie went down the mountain on her own. She claimed … she claimed to have walked the sleep of the girl.’

Isaboe felt both women’s eyes on her.

‘Do you think she’s walking the sleep on her own?’ Beatriss asked.

Isaboe had no idea how to answer that. Not after the strangeness of her sleep. ‘What does Tesadora say?’

Beatriss seemed uncomfortable. ‘Not much really. She was very strange. Almost … bewitched, if one could ever imagine Tesadora bewitched.’

‘Tell us about this mad girl, Beatriss,’ Abian said.

‘She was so strange,’ Beatriss said with a shudder. ‘Tesadora was wonderful with her. She managed to disarm her. The poor girl is obviously hiding from the Charynites and Tesadora has taken it upon herself to take care of her.’

‘She’s seen her again?’ Isaboe asked.

‘As I was leaving the mountain, Tesadora was setting out for our side of the valley,’ Beatriss said.

Isaboe was disturbed to hear the news. She had sent message after message to Tesadora, asking her to visit. She had excused everyone’s mood after Phaedra of Alonso’s death, but to hear that Tesadora was back in the valley seemed wrong. Isaboe’s bond with Tesadora was strong. It had grown since Isaboe first walked the sleep with Vestie and the Other while in exile. The Other had been Tesadora, their protector and the person partly responsible for breaking the curse her mother had placed on the land. Tesadora and Beatriss had once been strangers to each other, but had worked tirelessly together to protect those trapped inside the kingdom. Through the benevolence of the Goddess they had found a way to lead Isaboe home. It had been Tesadora who had nursed her back to health after Trevanion and the Guard reclaimed Lumatere.

Vestie returned with her rag doll and Jasmina was happy to see it.

‘You’re a kind friend to this stranger, Vestie,’ Isaboe said, gathering the little girl towards her. Vestie placed her lips beside Isaboe’s ear and growled in a strange, savage way. She giggled.

‘Are you a little wolf, Vestie?’ Isaboe asked, bemused.

‘That’s what she sounds like,’ Vestie explained. ‘When I walk the sleep.’

Jasmina began to squirm and Isaboe placed her back on the ground, her attention on Vestie.

‘Tell me more about her,’ Isaboe said calmly, despite the fact that her heart was pounding. She remembered the feeling night after night of waking from the sleep.