‘He’s talking to you,’ Finnikin said with a shove.
‘No, he’s talking to you,’ Froi replied with an even greater shove. ‘Because I’d probably kill a man who called me nimble.’
Perri stopped in his tracks and Froi knew he had gone too far. Perri had a stare that could rip the guts out of a man and Froi felt it now. He knew he would have to wait it out under Perri’s cold scrutiny.
‘Except if it came from you, Perri,’ he said seriously. ‘I’d prefer the word swift, though. And you can’t say I’m not swift.’
‘What have I told you about talking back?’ Perri’s voice was cold and hard.
‘Not to,’ Froi muttered.
He knew he should have counted. It was the rule to count to ten in his head before he opened his mouth. It was the rule to count to ten if he wanted to smash a man in the face for saying something he didn’t like. It was the rule to count to ten if instinct wasn’t needed, but common sense was. It was part of his bond to Trevanion and Perri and the Queen’s Guard. Froi did a lot of counting.
They began walking again, silent for what seemed too long a time. Then Finnikin shoved him with a shoulder and Froi stumbled, laughing.
‘He’s filling out more than we imagined, Perri,’ Finnikin said. ’Perhaps it’s true what they say, after all. That he comes from River folk.’
‘Wouldn’t mind being known as a River man,’ Froi said.
Still nothing from Perri.
‘Not as a Flatlander?’ Finnikin asked.
Froi thought about it for a moment. ‘Perhaps both.’
He saw Perri’s look of disapproval.
‘You can’t stay working on Augie’s farm much longer,’ Perri said firmly. ‘Sooner or later, you’ll have to join the Guard.’
The topic of where Froi belonged came up more often these days. What had begun as a roof over his head three years ago with Lord August and his family, had become home. And Froi’s kinship with the village of Sayles had strengthened as he toiled alongside them, day in and day out, to restore Lumatere to what it had been before the unspeakable. But Froi’s place was also with the Captain and Perri and the men of the Guard in the barracks of the palace, protecting the Queen and Finnikin and their daughter, Princess Jasmina. Once a boy with no home, Froi now found himself torn between two.
‘I can do both.’
‘No, you can’t,’ Perri said.
‘I can do both, I tell you!’
‘You’ve a warrior’s instinct and the skill of a marksman, Froi,’ Perri said. ‘You’re wasted as a farm boy. It’s what I tell Augie every time I see him.’
‘Lady Abian says I’m probably eighteen by now, so you’ll have to start treating me as one of the men,’ Froi muttered. He hated being called a boy.
This was followed by another stare from Perri. Another round of counting to ten from Froi.
‘I’ll treat you like a man when you act like one,’ Perri said. ‘Agreed?’
Finnikin shoved him again and Froi tried not to laugh because Perri hated it when Froi didn’t take things seriously.
‘When I’m as old as my father, they’ll still be calling me a boy,’ Finnikin said. ‘So why shouldn’t you endure the indignity of it all as well?’
‘Oh Finn, Finn, the indignity of it all,’ Froi mocked and Finnikin grabbed him around the neck, squeezing tight.
At the horse posts, Froi tossed the stable boy a coin as they collected their mounts. The boy gave Finnikin a note and Froi saw irritation and then a ghost of a smile appear on his friend’s face.
‘I’ll ride ahead to the inn,’ Finnikin said.
‘Not unescorted, you won’t,’ Perri said.
‘It’s around the bend in this road. Nothing can happen to me from here to there.’
Froi rubbed noses with his horse. He knew this argument would last a moment or two.
‘Anything can happen,’ Perri said.
‘Suppose around the bend are ten Charynite scumsters, waiting to jump you,’ Froi said, mounting the horse.
Finnikin shot Froi a scathing look. ‘You’re supposed to be on my side, Froi. And how do you suppose Charynite –’
‘Scumsters,’ Froi finished.
‘How do you suppose Charynite scumsters got up the mountain and passed the Mont sentinels?’
‘All it takes is for one of them to slip through,’ Perri said.
But Finnikin was already on the horse, trotting away.
‘I’ll see you at the inn,’ he called out over his shoulder. He broke into a gallop and was gone.
‘I think he forgets his place sometimes,’ Perri murmured, staring after Finnikin. ’He still believes he can come and go as though he’s some messenger boy.’
There was silence between them again as they rode to the inn. Froi watched Perri carefully. He wondered if Perri would stay mad for long. Despite most things from Froi’s mouth coming out wrong, he hated disappointing Perri or the Captain.
‘I can take leave from the farm, Perri,’ he said quietly. ‘Especially when it comes time to travel into Charyn and do what we have to do.’
Perri was silent for a moment. ‘What makes you think I’m taking you to Charyn?’
‘Because you’ve taught me everything I know about …’ Froi shrugged. ‘You know.’
‘Killing,’ Perri said bitterly.
‘And when I’m not training with you or working on the farm, then I’m with the Priestking being taught to speak the tongue of our enemy.’ He gave Perri a sidewards glance. ‘So the way I see it, that says you’re taking me to Charyn.’
Perri was silent for a moment. ‘You know what the Priestking says?’
‘Sagra!’ Froi cursed. He knew he was going to get another serving from Perri.
‘He says that you don’t have time for your studies anymore. That you think there’s no merit in learning and stories.’
‘I’ve learnt all I need to,’ Froi said. ‘Studies and learning and stories won’t protect the kingdom and they won’t reap harvests.’
Perri shook his head. ‘I would have given anything to be taught at your age. The Priestking says you’re a natural, Froi. That you pick up facts and foreign words and that you understand ideas that are beyond many of us. Who would have thought that hidden beneath all the talking back and fighting was a sharp mind? But it means nothing to the Captain or me when you show little control over your actions and words.’
Froi took a deep breath and counted, making sure he didn’t take it out on the horse.
‘You’re not training anyone else, are you, Perri?’ he managed to ask, trying to hold back his fury at the thought. ‘Not Sefton or that scrawny fool from the Rock? They think too much. You can see it on their faces. And they’d never bear a torture. Never.’
Perri looked at him and Froi saw his eyes soften.
‘And you would?’
‘You know me, Perri,’ Froi said fiercely. ‘You know that if you wrote me a bond and told me what to bear, I’d bear it. You know me. Have I let you or the Captain down once these past three years, hunting those traitors?’
In the distance, a Flatlander was harnessed to his plough, working a field on his own. Froi and Perri held up a hand in acknowledgement and the man waved back.
‘When the time comes, we will have only one chance to get into that palace,’ Perri said. ‘There will be no room for mistakes. Their army combined is more than our entire people and if we make the slightest of errors, there will be a war to end all wars across this land.’
There was a flash of anguish on Perri’s face. Froi saw it on everyone’s expression once in a while, especially those who remembered life as it once was. Froi didn’t feel the sadness. Despite Isaboe and Finnikin’s belief that he was one of the children lost to the kingdom thirteen years ago when the impostor King took control, Froi remembered nothing about Lumatere. All he had known was life on the streets in another kingdom, where a chance meeting with Finnikin and the Queen changed his life. In a secret part of him, Froi revelled in what he had gained from Lumatere’s curse. He never looked back because if he did, he would have to think of the shame and the baseness of who he had once been without his bond. He would do anything to prove his worth to the Queen and Finnikin. Even kill. It was what he had been taught to do these past years. Over and over again.