Froi of the Exiles Read Free

last days of the curse, the impostor King had set alight most of the Flatlands.
    ‘There’s talk that Isaboe and Finn will sell the village of Fenton,’ Froi said.
    ‘Queen Isaboe. The Queen’s Consort,’ Perri corrected.
    Froi made a rude sound. ‘Every time I call Finn the Consort anything, he wrestles me and he’s no skinny thing anymore.’
    ‘It’s hard for him,’ Perri said quietly. ‘No matter how strong his union with the Queen, he has much to prove.’
    ‘He doesn’t have to prove himself to her,’ Froi said.
    ‘But he has to prove himself
because
of her.’
    Froi was distracted a moment by the rotted crop of cabbage that lined the road. He leapt off the horse and crouched, feeling the soil, shaking his head at the waste of it all. This year Lord August had decided to use a water system created by a soldier in the impostor King’s army. It was the only thing of worth the enemy had contributed, apart from some of the most stunning horses Froi had ever seen. But many of the Flatlanders refused to adopt the Charynite methods, despite the fact that their crops were dying.
    ‘They are fools,’ Froi said, looking up at Perri.
    ‘Don’t underestimate how deepfelt the hatred is,’ Perri said. ‘They see it as the method of an enemy and they don’t want a part of it.’
    ‘So they’d prefer that their crops die and their people half starve! I told Gardo of the Flatlands that he was a horse’s arse just the other day. What kind of man wastes his crop for the sake of pride?’
    ‘You need to refrain from insulting the villagers, Froi,’ Perri laughed. ‘They have daughters. You’re going to have to bond yourself to one of them sooner or later.’
    Froi stiffened. ’I have a bond to my queen.’ He mounted his horse, steering it back onto the road.
    He heard Perri sigh. ‘Froi, it was a worthy promise at the time, but you can’t spend the rest of your life refusing the pleasures of laying with a woman.’
    ‘Why not?’
    ‘Because it alters nothing of the past,’ Perri said firmly. ‘You can’t change who you were. If anyone realises that, I do.’
    Froi looked away. He didn’t know how much Perri knew. Didn’t want to know, really. It brought him too much shame. Three years ago on their travels, when the Queen was disguised as the novice Evanjalin, and Froi was a filthy thief they had picked up along the way, he had tried to force himself on her. On the streets of the Sarnak capital where he grew up, the men had taught him that power was survival. The Lumaterans had spent three years trying to unteach what he knew. Some nights he woke in a sweat remembering what he had done. The Queen had spoken about it only once since they entered Lumatere. It was when a member of her Guard, Aldron, was sent on palace business with Finnikin, and Froi had been chosen to replace Aldron.
    ‘Are you sure?’ he had asked her quietly as they stood at the bailey, watching Finnikin and Aldron ride away.
    ‘That you can protect me?’ she said, her eyes still out in the distance where Finnikin and Aldron were tiny specks on the horizon. ‘Trevanion claims there’s no one better than you, Froi. But if you’re asking if I’m sure you won’t hurt me, then yes I am.’
    Froi had felt pride and relief.
    Her dark eyes were suddenly on him and he shivered at the memory of their fierceness. ‘But I’ve told you before, I will never forget.
Ever
. And nor will you. It’s part of the bond you made to me that day we freed you from the slave traders. Do you remember?’
    Froi would never forget. ‘That if I ever harm a woman you’ll have me hanged and quartered.’ And she would. That he knew.
    Most days, he feared that a monster of great baseness lived inside him, fighting to set itself free. Killing the traitors of Lumatere for Isaboe made sense. But killing also fed the monster. He could not bear the idea of letting that monster free amongst the girls of Lumatere. So Froi kept away from them.
    ‘It’s the