Melina Marchetta - Quintana of Charyn

‘She’s playing with you, Grijio,’ Phaedra warned. ‘It’s what she’ll do now with the little power she has.’

‘If you say another word, Phaedra, I think you’ll have much regret,’ he said sadly.

Phaedra refused to open the letter. In the distance she could see Lucian’s mountain and she kept her gaze fixed ahead. The sun was setting early and her body was beginning to feel the cold and all she could think of was Lucian’s fleece that made him resemble a bear.

‘Did I tell you that once I sat out on a rooftop in early winter and got a chill and almost died?’ Grijio said with an exaggerated sniff. ‘We’re very fragile, us lastborns.’

She glanced at him and could see that, despite the soft, fair curls and gentle face, this lad was steadfast in his decisions and she knew he would not move until she read the letter. So she opened it.

Dearest Phaedra,

I asked Grij not to give this to you until you reached the ridge before the valley, so you wouldn’t turn back. Because I know you well, and I couldn’t bear you not taking the journey back to the valley where I know you belong.

I remember on the day I was separated from Froi outside Paladozza, I learnt that I could be loved. That was his greatest gift to me. From you, I learnt that I could love my people. Don’t ever underestimate the power of that. I needed to learn. How can I guide the little King without that lesson?

We speak the words gods’ blessed again and again in this kingdom. I’m not sure what they mean. But know this. That what you have in spirit is a gift indeed, Phaedra of Alonso. It’s a true blessing from the gods. It’s one I will be grateful for each day of my life. My king will be raised with the privilege of his mother having known you.

When I saw the list of consorts I knew I would never have true happiness in my spousal bed. But you love your Mont, Phaedra. So it’s only fair that one of us finds deep happiness. You said repeatedly that you’d never leave me and I knew you’d keep that pledge. But what I feared most is that you’d come to hate me for trapping you in the Citavita.

As I write this I feel as if I’m broken in all these pieces that only you and Froi and little Tariq can put together. I will miss your presence every day of my life.

Quintana of Charyn

Phaedra stared at the words. Read them again and again. She scrambled to her feet, hurried to her horse and mounted it.

‘Take me back, Grijio. I’m begging you.’

Grijio shook his head and got to his feet.

‘She said that if I returned you to her, she’d never speak to me again.’

‘Take me back,’ she cried. ‘ Please . You don’t know her, Grij. You don’t know how lonely she can get.’

‘I’ve lost too many friends, Phaedra,’ he said. ‘Through betrayal or distance or circumstance. I couldn’t bear to lose her.’

Grijio was resolute as he mounted his horse. ‘My pledge to Quintana was that I’d get you to your valley.’

They arrived later that afternoon and her heart leapt to see the busyness of the camp dwellers’ day from where they were standing on the path behind the caves. Their lives seemed full of talk. It’s what she had noticed these past months. That Charynites had found their voices. But she wondered how long the valley dwellers would stay here. Perhaps a new Charyn meant there was a place for them across the kingdom. Gargarin’s focus was to bring the dry lands back to life for farming. It would take the pressure off the overcrowded provinces. In the months to come when children were born to this valley, the people would have to leave and find a home, not a temporary camp. Phaedra wondered what would become of them all.

She led Grijio between the caves and saw Cora and Jorja in a vegetable patch crowded with produce and colour. Close by, a few of the men were roasting a boar on a spit, and women were scrubbing clothes by the stream. Phaedra’s heart leapt to see one or two of the camp dwellers with swollen bellies. She gave a sob of laughter, and then someone pointed up to where she sat astride the horse, and as Phaedra dismounted, the valley dwellers rushed to greet her from caves above and below. Cora and Jorja heard the commotion and turned and suddenly she was running towards them and she was clasped in their arms weeping.

‘Look at you,’ Jorja said.

‘You’ve a bit more weight,’ Cora joined in.

‘Well, there’s a bit more food to be had in the palace,’ Phaedra laughed, looking back to search for Grijio.

‘How is she?’ Jorja asked. ‘How are they both? Is he as beautiful as they say?’

Phaedra held a hand to her chest. More tears because there would never be words to describe the little King.

‘Enough of the crying,’ Cora snapped, but she hugged Phaedra all the same.

Grijio reached them as Harker and Kasabian approached and Phaedra completed the introductions.

‘We’ve met, sir,’ Grijio said to Harker, shaking his hand. ‘On the day you took this valley.’

‘How are things in the Citavita?’ Harker asked.

‘Hopeful, sir.’

Grijio searched through his pack and handed Harker the mail. ‘These are for the Lumaterans. Is there a chance they can reach the palace soon? Gargarin of Abroi was very insistent.’

Harker shook his head. ‘When it comes to messages and mail, we have to wait for the Monts to visit and then it’s up to chance when they next visit their palace. Sometimes a week passes. But we’ll do our best.’

‘I’m presuming that I’d be expecting too much if Froi of Lumatere was here in the valley?’ Grij said.

Harker shook his head again with a grimace. ‘He’s on his way to Charyn, the way we’ve heard it.’

Phaedra turned to Grijio, understanding his disappointment.

‘Rest first and then go,’ she urged, knowing he’d want to see his friend. ‘You may catch him in the Citavita if you’re lucky.’

‘And which of you is Cora?’ Grijio asked.

‘Me,’ Cora snapped. ‘Why?’

He retrieved a tiny purse from his pocket and held it out to her. Everyone crowded around Cora, curious to see what it was.

‘She’s rewarded you with gold,’ someone murmured.

‘Perhaps a trinket.’

They waited as Cora emptied the contents into the palm of her hand and soon there were sighs of disappointment. But Cora looked up and caught her brother’s eye and Phaedra saw a smile on both their faces as they studied the seeds.

‘Where would she have found herself a pair of Klin tree seeds?’ Kasabian asked, as Cora placed them in his hand. He clenched a fist and pressed a kiss to it. ‘These seeds grow hope,’ he said.

‘I have one more letter,’ Grijio said. ‘Quintana said I had to deliver it by hand. To Florenza of Nebia.’

‘My daughter?’ Harker asked, perplexed.

‘By hand, you say. Why?’ Jorja asked.

Grijio shrugged. ‘Quintana said I could not leave until the letter was read out loud, and then I had to wait for Florenza of Nebia’s response. So then Her Highness would be sure it was delivered.’

‘I’ll go find her,’ Harker said.

More of the valley dwellers came to greet Phaedra and she introduced them to Grijio, who seemed fascinated by the way they lived.

‘For now, every family is assigned to their own cave with ample privacy,’ Jorja said. ‘It was difficult for us during the time of Donashe and his friends. Families were separated.’

‘But still a blessing that our Quintana found herself in a cave with you women,’ Grijio said.

‘Phaedra!’ they heard Florenza cry, and next moment they were in each other’s arms, laughing and crying.

‘I was with the Mont girls when we heard the news,’ Florenza said. ‘Are you back for good?’