Froi of the Exiles

Epilogue

Somewhere in Charyn, Froi woke to see Gargarin sitting beside his bed. Amidst all the horror, he felt a sense of joy to see him here. After everything Froi had said to Gargarin and Lirah, his father had come to be with him.

‘I’m sorry,’ Froi croaked, reaching out to take his hand. ‘I’m sorry for everything. I’m sorry for losing her.’

Gargarin gripped Froi’s hand, a gentle smile on his face.

‘We’ll do it your way, Gargarin. All of it. I’ll never doubt you again.’

Froi tried to sit up, but pain shot through almost every part of his body. Gargarin gently lay him back down and Froi held onto him with a fierceness that spoke of never letting him go.

‘Where’s Lirah?’ he whispered. ‘I want to see my mother. I want her forgiveness.’

Gargarin cleared the emotion from his throat.

‘You’re in the mountains of Sebastabol, Froi. Someone left you here. Someone who didn’t want you to die no matter how many of their arrows pierced you.’

Gargarin’s voice was so tender it made Froi weep.

‘I don’t know where Lirah is, lad. Nor Gargarin.’

Arjuro. Froi reached out a hand and touched his face. The Priestling’s hair was cropped and his beard not so wild and his eyes more lucid than Froi had ever seen.

‘You’re in a bad way, beloved ingrate,’ his uncle said. ‘But we are going to put you back together.’

In the Flatlands of Lumatere, Beatriss and Trevanion walked home with Vestie between them, who swung their arms as if she had not a care in the world. Beatriss had never seen her child so happy, but, despite it all, she knew that Trevanion would leave soon and she already felt the day’s sadness.

‘Are you going to go searching?’ she asked quietly, having heard talk that day of Charyn.

‘I have to,’ he replied. ‘I sent him, Beatriss, and I won’t rest until he’s returned to us.’

‘Who?’ Vestie asked. ‘Are you going somewhere, Trevanion?’

‘Father,’ he corrected gently.

Beatriss brushed hair out of her daughter’s eyes. ‘The Guard have lost their … dearest pup, Vestie, and they’re very sad without him so Trevanion will travel soon to bring him home.’

Trevanion lifted Beatriss’s hand to his lips.

‘You’re stretching my arm, silly,’ Vestie giggled.

‘We can’t have that,’ he said, lifting her into his arms.

Up ahead, Beatriss could see the family of Makli of the Flatlands approach on a horse and cart. They now had a future together and although it would be a long while before she would forget Makli’s harsh words, she had come to respect him. But as they rode by, Vestie poked out her tongue at Makli’s boy.

‘He’s my father!’ she bellowed, pointing to Trevanion.

‘Vestie!’ Beatriss said firmly, stopping to stare up at her. ‘I’ll snip at that tongue if I ever see it in such a way again! Trevanion, speak to her.’

Vestie hung her head, shamefaced.

‘Vestie,’ he said, his voice still gentle.

‘Yes, Father.’

‘Shout it out louder, my love. Shout it out louder.’

In the valley between two kingdoms she sat on the rock face and waited for the day to begin. It was always at this hour that she thought of him, and wondered how those they loved were faring. But she knew they had made the right decision. That what they were doing was for the greater good of Charyn, no matter how much heartbreak it brought.

‘Do you think it will rain again?’ a voice asked from within the cave.

‘No,’ Phaedra of Alonso said, turning with a smile. ‘You should all come out. It’s beautiful. I think I see the sun.’