Finnikin of the Rock by Melina Marchetta

day he arrived, but they kept their distance and he understood why. Trevanion was like an unleashed animal, and those around him, including the guards, feared the consequences of coming too close.
    "You work outside this week," the guard told Trevanion as they were taken back to their cage. Trevanion grabbed Finnikin and pushed him in front of the guard's nose.
    "He stays behind," the guard said flatly. He was the least sadistic of the guards, which made him one-quarter human.
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    But Trevanion refused to move or to relax his grip on his son. He shook him in front of the guard again, and Finnikin felt like a rag doll, like some kind of toy at the mercy of everyone around him.
    "Not taking the chance," the guard spat. "The Osterian prisoner cut out the throat of the Belegonian translator. No interpreter. Can't afford surprises."
    "I speak five tongues," Finnikin said calmly in Sorelian, though he felt anything but calm. "I can be your translator." Trevanion pulled him away, but Finnikin broke free, his face an inch away from the guard. "I speak five tongues," he said, and then repeated the statement. Five times in five different languages.
    The guard stared from him to Trevanion and then pushed them along. "Make sure you keep him on a leash," he warned through gritted teeth.
    When they were alone in their cell, Trevanion looked at him questioningly. "Five languages?"
    Finnikin shrugged, cracking his knuckles. "I lied. It's seven. If you count the grunting of the common Yut and those ridiculous sounds made by the Sendecanese."
    "Who taught you?" Trevanion asked.
    "Sir Topher insisted I learn about the culture of each kingdom we visited. He said it was the only way they would begin to accept us and offer us assistance."
    "What else did he teach you?"
    Finnikin was confused by the force of the question. "You have nothing to fear," he assured his father. "Sir Topher made sure he always honored your profession. I have trained with the royal Guard of almost every kingdom in the land."
    "No one in my Guard speaks seven languages."
    Finnikin did not respond.
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    "Do you know where the priest-king is?" Trevanion asked after a moment.
    Finnikin shook his head. "He does not want to be found, but rumor has it that he's on this side of the land."
    "The dukes?"
    "Five are in exile. Two we believe were left behind. Three are dead."
    Trevanion stiffened. "Is Lord Augie ..."
    "Alive. Still works for Belegonia. Has some ridiculous obsession with breaking you out of prison so you can lead us back to Lumatere. Why didn't Ambassador Corden tell him you were here?"
    "Probably because he knew that Augie had some ridiculous obsession with breaking me out," Trevanion said dryly. "And if anything frightens Corden, it's not following correct protocol."
    "Sir Topher calls him the monster of propriety," Finnikin said. "I call him a painful boil on the arse. But he does fund our journeys sometimes. Convinces the king of Osteria we can be of use if we are traveling around the land unnoticed. I trained with their Guard in exchange for information."
    "You are spies?"
    "We collect information." Finnikin propped himself on his elbow, facing his father. "Do you get much news from outside? From your Guard or the ambassador?"
    Trevanion shook his head. "Not in the past seven years. My decision, not theirs."
    "What is your theory about the impostor king?" Finnikin asked.
    "Puppet to Charyn," Trevanion replied. "Good."
    He caught a hint of a smile on Trevanion's face.
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    "I'm glad I have your approval."
    "It's just that we've always suspected it," Finnikin said, all of a sudden wanting to talk. "But it's only been lately that we've heard it spoken aloud."
    He went on to explain to Trevanion their plans for the second Lumatere. He tried to convey the extent of the suffering experienced by the exiles, but could not quite find the words. The slaughter in Sarnak was the hardest to explain. It had been the biggest of the river camps. They suspected that two hundred of