The Poisoned Quarrel: The Arbalester Trilogy 3 (Complete Edition)

by Duncan Lay

  As soon as the recruits saw her, many of them gave a cheer, for it was she who had saved them when all seemed lost. Besides, while they were under Fallon’s command, some of these men were hers. Gannon and the Lunster guards – the ones she had freed from the cells during the battle of Berry– owed their loyalty to her first, Fallon second. She smiled and waved back at them, although her smile wavered when she saw a small figure striding behind Fallon. She thought Kerrin would not want to leave her side after all they had been through, but her son was still following Fallon and the recruits around at every opportunity. She was sure he was still loosing a crossbow and throwing knives when he thought she wasn’t watching. After what had happened to them she could understand why he was obsessed with weapons, but it felt like he was not the same son she had left and seeing him eagerly chase after Fallon rather than sit with her never got easier.

  “Fallon!” she called, waving.

  He was talking with Devlin and Gallagher, Caley at his side. He broke off to walk to her, Caley trotting beside him.

  “What is it? We need to be away quickly, before word spreads,” he said impatiently.

  “Do you think this is wise?” she asked pointedly.

  Fallon stopped and stared at her. “Even if you forget how they have terrorized men like your father for more summers than I can count and stolen from the people, the Guilds have been in league with Zorva, helped Aidan and now they helped Dina escape from the city. So we might as well do what Cavan and I intended all along and crush them. With their leaders in cells and their money in our hands, the city will be safe and we can turn our attention to getting rid of the back-stabbing nobles.”

  “But all the guilty ones are gone. They have left with the Duchess. All that’s left are the ones who knew nothing or were too insignificant to be part of Aidan’s plans,” she argued. “If we were going to do this, we should have struck earlier. Now is too late.”

  “That is what they want us to think. But they will have left behind a few spies, ready to betray us at the first opportunity. Well, I am not going to give them a chance. We shall crush them, once and for all.”

  “And how will we deal with the merchants then? They will not trust us and we’ll end up paying more for everything, for the Guilds hold them to tight contracts.”

  “The merchants shall deal with us fairly, or they will regret it,” Fallon said flatly. “I hear what you are saying—”

  “Are you? Because it sounds like you are doing what you want. Or rather, what you think Cavan would want,” Bridgit said. “I thought we’d decided that we would leave them alone until spring, so we’re free to concentrate on destroying Swane?” She raised her eyebrows at him, the way she always had when she was trying to warn him he was doing something foolish. But he merely rolled his eyes at her.

  “You don’t understand what Cavan and I went through with these Guilds. Helping Dina escape is the last straw. Besides, we need their money if we are to make it to spring. Now, I don’t have time for this. We have to strike before they know we’re coming and they have time to hide their money.”

  “At least let me come along.”

  “Too dangerous,” he said with a shake of his head. “For you and the baby.”

  “For Aroaril’s sake, Fallon, I am not made of glass!” she snapped.

  But he merely leaned in and kissed her cheek. “You need to stay safe and not get too excited,” he said. “I shall be back by noon and we can talk more then.” Before he could say anything more he turned away, waving to his men, Caley barking, as if she was giving them orders as well.

  Bridgit bit her lip to stop herself shouting at him. Then she saw Kerrin and pointed at him. She could not stop Fallon from going but there was no way she was letting Kerrin go.

  “Kerrin! Here. Now!” she snapped.

  For a moment he dragged his feet but then he slouched over.

  “Mam! I want to go!” he protested.

  “Not happening,” she said firmly. “You’re coming with me.”

  She did not look over her shoulder as Fallon’s men began to march out in tight ranks.

  CHAPTER 7

  Swane sat, brooding, in his room in Meinster castle. So many things needed to happen before he could return to Berry in triumph. He was under no illusions as to how dangerous Fallon was. He had seen what the man had done in Berry castle, after all. Unarmed and surrounded by twenty of his father’s most loyal men, he had somehow turned the tables on them and slaughtered them. All his life, his father had been telling him what to do. The only time he had tried to strike out on his own and listen to Brother Nahuatl, it had ended in disaster. He had laid a trap for Cavan, only for his brother and that accursed Fallon to destroy their plans and not only capture them but drag them before Father.

  Swane felt a pulse of satisfaction as he remembered seeing Cavan’s corpse and helping Nahuatl cut out his brother’s heart. Although it had not been claimed in a sacrifice, the heart of a royal prince had enormous power and he still had it, in a sealed box, hidden in his old room. If he could but get his hands on that, as well as Brother Nahuatl’s book, surely he would unlock all the power he would ever need. The first sacrifice you made brought you a surge of power but, after a few, just a simple sacrifice only brought you a little power. He hated the way Zorva drew you in like that. The first sweet taste of power was so intense, everything else was just not as good, so you kept searching for a way to restore that perfect sensation as raw magic surged through your body. Ultimately the only way to find it was to summon a Fearpriest, or become one. But while he could feel the tug in the back of his mind to call another of Nahuatl’s people, he wanted all the power for himself. And that could only happen if he got the book back. But that might as well be at the bottom of the sea.

  He rang the bell for more wine. The serving girls were becoming reluctant to bring anything into his room, despite Meinster’s threats of death for anyone who spoke of what was happening here. He waited irritably, thinking he would have to go and find some wine and hating the fact that this would never have happened to his father, when the door opened.

  “I hope I am not disturbing you,” Duchess Dina said, carrying a jug of wine and a platter.

  She was wearing a warm fur coat around her shoulders but a whispery silk dress underneath and he could not stop looking down at her body.

  She was old enough to be his mother but that only made things more interesting. His first memories of sex were tied up with his mother, usually of his mother tied up. Sex and violence, violence and sex, they were inseparable, but Dina seemed to offer something else.

  “The servants were dithering about and I knew your father would not want to be kept waiting and nor should you. The rightful King of Gaelland has worries that ordinary people do not understand,” she said warmly, deftly setting the jug down and pouring him a goblet.

  She handed it to him, leaning forwards as she did so. He tried to look at her eyes but failed miserably. He took the goblet and she poured another for herself and then sat on the edge of the bed.

  “To your return to the throne!” she toasted him.

  He drank deeply, feeling the wine rush to his head, although, strangely, her perfume seemed to be intoxicating him even more.

  “Tell me, sire,” she said gently. “What are your biggest worries?”

  He drained his wine. “That Fallon will never be removed from my father’s throne!” he snarled.

  “That will not happen, sire. But there has to be more than that,” she said, taking his goblet and refilling it, handing it to him in exactly the same way as before.

  “How do you mean?” he asked, his mouth suddenly dry.

  “You are a king but you are also a young man who has been ripped from his home and lost his father in the most brutal way. Your family has been riven by tragedy as well, losing your mother at such a young age. There must be something you miss.”

  He looked at her uncertainly and she smiled and toasted him with her own wine, shifting closer to
him on the bed. Her face was made up artfully, shining faintly with Kottermani powders, her lips stained a vivid red, standing out against her pale skin in the candlelight. It made him think of blood and he glanced down into his goblet to see what lay there.

  “Sire, you can trust me. My only thought is to see you on the throne and Fallon brought to a screaming end. I am here for you, to do anything to make you happy.”

  He took another gulp of wine. She offered him the platter, holding the last of the season’s pears.

  “I find the ripest are the sweetest, don’t you?” she said softly, taking one herself.

  He shook his head wordlessly. Sex had always been about taking his pleasures, just as his father had done, and he felt completely lost here. He had met Duchess Dina many times before at his father’s court, but she had not seemed anything like this. He had noticed her, as the wife of the King’s cousin, but he had not lusted after her, the way he had many of the nobles’ young mistresses. Up close, feeling as if he was the only man in the world for her, it was very different. As a deposed king he needed her, as a man he wanted her. Her less than subtle suggestions, coupled with the wine and the perfume, had his head spinning as to what he should do. He had just decided to reach out when she replaced the pears and broke the thick silence.

  “Perhaps you can tell me one thing though, sire. I thought you might have tried to use Zorva’s power to stop Fallon.”

  Swane choked a little on his wine.

  “If only!” he said bitterly.

  “What happened?” she asked sympathetically.

  He found himself spilling out his fears and frustrations about the lost magic and how he could not generate the power he needed. She listened carefully, nodding thoughtfully.

  “There must be some way of unlocking this power.”

  “There is one thing I need from my father’s castle,” he blurted. “I have hidden items in my room. A box and a book that could help me.”

  She flicked her hair back from her face. “Then we may well be in luck,” she said. “I know that, as of a few days ago, your rooms remained empty. I should know, as I spent quite a few days in the cells before I escaped.”

  “Fallon kept you there?” Swane growled.

  “You see why I long for him to be destroyed, sire,” she said, pressing her hand across her mouth, then surging to her feet.

  “Wait, where are you going?” he asked.

  She turned away from him. “I am sorry, sire. The memories of those days haunt me still. I was living one day at a time, always afraid that I would do something to anger the brute and he would have me dragged out and murdered in front of a baying crowd, just like your father.”

  “He will pay for what he has done,” Swane vowed.

  “We shall destroy him, and then you will unlock the power you were always meant to have. I shall be proud to serve under you,” she said. “Then perhaps I can put this nightmare behind me.” Her shoulders hunched and she appeared to sob.

  Swane stood, wobbling a little, but before he could hurry to her side, she strode towards the door. “Forgive me, sire, I am not fit company for you tonight. But I shall be better in the morning.”

  Swane watched her go, unsure of what to think or feel and tantalized by the scent she had left behind.

  *

  Dina shut the door and leaned against it for a moment, smiling to herself. The little fool was hooked and she just had to play him skillfully for a day or two longer before bedding him. Then he would be hers and there would eventually be but one real ruler here. Best of all, she had just learned the secret to gaining Zorva’s power. With that in her hands, Swane would be even more dependent on her. Just the way she wanted. She only had to send some messages to Berry.

  Dina pushed away from the door and hurried off, just in case Swane’s lust got the better of him.

  *

  Munro double-checked that the street below his large shop was empty. Nobody suspected him but you could never be too careful. Once satisfied, he turned and looked around at his lieutenants. Most of those in his network of informants did not know each other and it was far safer that way. Each one of his lieutenants – mostly men but also one clever woman, Jen – had little groups and they spread out across the city like tentacles, funnelling information back to him. Before he had sent that information to Regan, but now the Duchess had taken over that role. As long as the money kept coming, he did not worry about who was paying him.

  This, however, was something different.

  “We have new orders,” Munro said. “We need to spread rumors on the streets, rather than report them. A word here and there, pick your targets and get them to gossip and this will take on a life of its own. Food is going to get scarce in the city. We want the streets to echo with the story that Fallon’s men are getting the best of it, and the Kottermani prisoners are eating well, while the people of Berry must go hungry. Spread it carefully, so that they hear it from every direction and each time it is repeated, people believe it even more.”

  His lieutenants nodded sagely. Once people were hearing it from several different directions, the lie would take on a life of its own and Fallon could never stop it.

  “Find some of your most trusted men and get them into this new army Fallon is building. We need to find out not just what they are doing but also need to be able to spread rumors through the ranks,” Munro told them. “The most important one is that this is a fight between Fallon and the Kottermani Prince, not between Gaelland and Kotterman. We want them to believe that Fallon intends to fight to the last Gaelish man and woman, but if he were gone there would be peace. Meanwhile, in the city, we can spread that rumor as well.”

  “That one will be harder to spread,” someone muttered.

  “Aye. The people love Fallon and fear Swane,” Jen added.

  “Did I say anything about Swane?” Munro demanded. “I don’t want a word of Swane to hit the streets. We’re not here to build him up. We’re here to bring Fallon down. And the more rumors we spread, the more they will doubt him. As soon as they start to get hungry, they will begin to question him. We just have to give them the right answers to those questions. Now go to it. By this time next moon, the people will be begging for someone to come and save them. Fallon will learn that he should have stayed in his filthy village.”

  His lieutenants scattered, leaving from both the front and back of the building, some waiting behind so they were not all leaving together. In the silence that followed, Munro sat and thought. There was one more task that he had been given, the hardest of the lot, which was the reason why he had not mentioned it to them. He had to break into the castle, get into Prince Swane’s old rooms and find a book hidden behind a secret panel, then somehow get that across the Spine to the Duchess. This order came from Dina directly and none but the two of them could know about it. It was a task that set the hairs on the back of his neck bristling, but the money she was offering was staggering and there were other men he could call on, outside the usual network, who might be able to help him. Of course they would have to die afterwards but that was the least of his concerns.

  *

  When Fallon signaled, men swept around the sides of the Guild of Bankers. It was a magnificent building, one that made the Moneylenders’ Guildhouse look like a hovel.

  Once he was sure the place was surrounded, he waved to Brendan and the big smith strode up the doors, a squad of crossbowmen right behind him and a company of swordsmen following them. If nothing else, Fallon expected they would be needed to carry away the bags of gold inside this building. It stank of money.

  But while Brendan was ready to slam his hammer through the beautifully carved doors, there was no need. They were hauled open and a worried-looking man appeared. Small and thin, he was balding but had brushed his remaining hair carefully across to partially hide that. His clothes were neat but hardly rich enough to mark him as a man high in the Guild.

  “What is going on?” he cried, his voice deep and rich, sounding ridicul
ous in such a reed of a man. “We are not open for business today!”

  “You are going to be closed for some time,” Fallon said grimly. “We are here to see your Guild leaders.”

  “And do you have an appointment?” the man asked.

  “Here it is,” Brendan said, brandishing his huge hammer.

  The man blanched but he rallied. “But that is exactly the problem. They have vanished and we do not know what has happened. They are not at work, they are not at home – it is a mystery!”

  Fallon gritted his teeth. This was exactly what Bridgit had warned might happen. But, then again, it could all be a trick. This could be a delaying tactic for the Guild leaders to hide. Let them try – he had the place surrounded and he would break down every wall if that’s what it took.

  “Who are you?” he demanded.

  The man drew himself up and offered a slight bow. “I am Turlough, the Greeter for the Bankers Guild. I am the man who escorts our honored customers to their appointments.”

  “Then you can escort us inside and show us everything,” Fallon said.

  Turlough looked doubtful. “I don’t know if I can do that, sirs. I would need permission from the Guild and that would mean finding them.”

  Fallon grabbed him by the shoulder. “Make an exception. Or you will have an appointment with Brendan’s hammer.”

  Turlough took one look at the ominous bloodstains on the head and handle of the hammer and shuddered.

  “This way, please,” he said faintly.

  Fallon strode confidently into the beautiful lobby of the Guildhouse. Like the Moneylenders, it was designed to impress but it took it a step further. The Kottermani hangings alone would have kept his village fed for a year, he judged.

  There was little activity inside, however. A handful of scribes stood or sat around, talking worriedly among themselves and there was no sign of anyone important.