by Duncan Lay
“Where are they all?”
Turlough shrugged. “I told you. They did not appear yesterday and none of our efforts to find them worked. When they did not arrive today we became far more worried. It is like the time of the witches, when people mysteriously disappeared.”
“We killed the men who were doing that,” Fallon growled. “And this is nothing like that.”
Turlough bowed his head and led them towards a huge wooden staircase.
“Nobody is to leave. And send some squads through downstairs. Make sure every room is searched. If you find where they keep their gold, then put a guard on it and come and find me,” Fallon ordered Brendan.
The big smith signaled to half the swordsmen and they fanned out into the building, while the crossbowmen and the rest of the swordsmen followed Fallon upstairs. But the place was deserted. Well, not quite, for there were a handful of servants cleaning already spotless tables and they fled as soon as they saw the armed men. Fallon glanced around. He was still using many of the Baltimore villagers as sergeants, because he knew and trusted them. He waved one over.
“You want us to get them?” a muscular farmer called Craddock asked.
“They can’t get anywhere. And unless the Guild leaders have lost twenty summers and changed into women since I last saw them, that wasn’t them,” Fallon said.
Turlough led them to room after room, all of which had evidence of having been cleaned out – and then cleaned up by servants.
“You see what I mean? There is nobody left. And they took all their records with them, which means we have no idea what to do now,” the Greeter said wretchedly.
Fallon cursed. Now that he said it, the fact there was almost no books or scrolls in sight was obvious.
“Right. Where do they keep the money?” If the Guild leaders had fled in a hurry then they would have struggled to get the money out with them. It would simply have weighed too much.
“We do not just hand out sacks of gold to people!” Turlough said, scandalized. “A signed piece of parchment from the Guild is enough to ensure funds are made available.”
“Just take me there,” Fallon said, giving him a push.
But although Turlough revealed a small room with walls of thick stone and a door of iron, there was nothing inside. Not even a single coin was left.
“How much is normally kept here?” Fallon demanded.
The Greeter shrugged. “I do not take part in that. I just show them up to the offices and then return downstairs. Besides, our clients are from the highest rank. They would not be seen carrying bags of coin around.”
Fallon swore and signaled to Craddock. “Tear this place apart. They have to have left something!”
“And if we can’t find anything?”
“Then it’s on to the next Guild and we do the same again. But maybe Gallagher and Devlin are having more luck with the ones they are searching.”
*
He dragged Turlough out of the Bankers Guildhouse two turns of the hourglass later, sweating lightly and swearing loudly. Even the most violent search of the place had failed to turn up anything useful. He had little faith that he would find anything more useful at the homes of the Guild leaders but he had to finish the job, at least. He owed Cavan, after all.
Like all the richest families in the city, the heads of the Bankers were down by the water. Turlough was not overly happy about being dragged away, nor about the mess they had left in the Guildhouse but Brendan just had to heft his hammer suggestively and the Greeter went along with whatever they wanted. This was not a part of town Fallon was familiar with, for it was near the water but away from the harbor, with its noise and smells, and his recruits had not needed to train within it.
His recruits were getting plenty of stares from the people in this part of town, rather than cheers, which was a little worrying. He knew Aidan’s supporters would have come from this area but surely they did not remember their dead king that fondly?
Then he found Devlin and his men emerging from the wreckage of a rich house and it began to make sense.
“Everything was cleaned out in the Guildhouses. All we found was a handful of clerks and cleaners, who only turned up for work because they didn’t know different,” the farmer said sourly. “So we thought we’d check their homes. All empty and everything gone. They must have known we were coming.”
Fallon spat in disgust. Looking back on it, he should have rounded up the Guilds on the morning after the battle, before they could do anything. But his men had been exhausted and the streets were filled with wounded men crying for help.
“See if you can find anything,” he ordered Craddock. “Maybe they left something behind.”
He rubbed his face as Craddock sent men to kick in doors but had little time to brood, as a delegation of self-important citizens hurried towards him.
“Want me to get rid of them?” Brendan offered.
Fallon waved him down and fixed a smile on his face.
“What is going on here?” their self-appointed leader, a large woman with a florid face, demanded.
“The leaders of the city’s Guilds have fled Berry, taking all their documents and money with them,” Fallon replied. “We are searching for reasons why.”
“The Guilds are gone?” the blood drained from her face.
“It will make no difference to the city,” he assured her.
“That’s what you think,” she declared, to much head-nodding from the ones behind her.
Fallon restrained his urge to take out his frustration on these idiots.
“You will see that things will get much better without them,” he said. “Now, we shall finish our business here soon and leave you in peace.”
“Well, do you have to do it so violently?” she asked. “It looks as though you are looting the place!”
“These people are in league with our enemies!”
“Your enemies, perhaps, Fallon,” she said tartly, turning away and hurrying off before he could say anything more.
“Should we follow them?” Brendan asked.
“Leave them,” Fallon said dismissively. “We have bigger problems than a rich woman with a loud voice. Probably thinks we’re making a mess on her nice clean street. She’s the sort of rich bastard who would scream out for guards to protect her, but then make them come to her back door so her respectable neighbors wouldn’t see them on her doorstep.”
The smith chuckled but Fallon kept an eye on the retreating citizens. He was tempted to get Rosaleen out here and question a few of them, see what they knew about the Guild leaders but once he went down that road, then he would be organizing informants and dragging people away to be executed. It wasn’t supposed to be like that. He was supposed to be freeing the people from an evil king, not putting fresh chains around them.
“What about me?” Turlough asked.
“Well, there’s no longer any money to pay for you and the other servants. So you might as well come and work for me,” Fallon replied.
“Ah, you need someone to speak to the people for you?” Turlough asked excitedly, his voice throbbing with pleasure.
“No, you can learn how to use a sword,” Fallon said flatly.
Turlough staggered back a pace. “Sir, I saw the battle of Berry! I would not last ten heartbeats in that!”
“Well, I don’t have any other work for you. And you’re not going to last the winter if all the skills you have is talking nicely,” Fallon said. “Come on. We’re getting nowhere here.”
*
Bridgit could see that the raids on the Guilds had been a failure long before Fallon made it back to the castle, just from the way the men were marching. She was so tempted to say that she had told Fallon so. But she bit her tongue as Fallon returned empty-handed.
“Were all of the Guilds gone?” she asked.
“Well, not all. A few of the minor Guilds are still here but they have little money and influence. Ones like the Engravers and the like. Anyone who dealt with anything we wan
t, like money or magic or food, is gone.”
She had suspected as much and saw instantly there was a bigger problem looming. The Guilds employed thousands of people across the city. Berry was going to come to a grinding halt and, worse, there would be many hungry people soon. And winter was looming.
“Then hardly anybody’s going to have money to buy food soon. We need to get ahead of this. We have to seize whatever food we can find and store it safely, share it out to the people so none go hungry. We don’t know how much more we can get into the city so let’s act now, before the situation gets any worse,” she said briskly. “We did that on the ship as we sailed home and it was all that kept us alive.”
“Surely it’s not that bad?”
“No, it’s worse. Not now, but in a moon’s time the city will be in chaos unless we act. We have secure warehouses and armed guards. Once we have the food supplies under our control, not in the hands of merchants and Guilds, we can make sure everyone gets a fair share. But we have to go now. Word will already be spreading through the merchants of what you have tried to do to the Guilds. If we leave it any longer, they will be disappearing out of the city and hiding food away, then selling it for ridiculous profits while poor people starve. We have enough food to last us through the winter. But not if they hide it away.”
He nodded and waved to his officers, bringing everyone in close. As well as his friends there was the black-bearded Bran, the bald-headed Gannon and the youthful Casey.
“Gall, Dev, you come with me and we shall sweep through the docks. Brendan, go through the slaughter yards. Bran, Gannon, your men go through the markets. We need armed guards on all warehouses, and scribes to start making tallies of everything. Nothing goes out until we know how much we have. Anyone complains, they can come and see me. And send word to the harbor and to all gates. No wagons are to leave this city until we have searched them. Nobody takes any food or flocks out. The Guilds think this city will collapse without them. We have to prove them wrong.”
Bridgit breathed a sigh of relief. Then sucked it in again when she saw a bedraggled bunch of men walking in the middle of Fallon’s soldiers.
“Why have you brought back a pack of cleaners and clerks? I didn’t think the castle looked that bad,” she asked.
“They were all that was left at the Guilds. They no longer have anyone paying them, so I’ll swear them into the army.”
“And you will be able to turn this bunch of cleaners and scribes into an army strong enough to first defeat Swane and then the Kottermanis?” she asked, unable to keep the disbelief out of her voice.
“If we must. I will do whatever I have to, to keep you and the baby safe,” he said, enfolding her in his arms. “In a couple of moons I created an army good enough to defeat Kemal. Given twice that much time, we’ll be able to make an army to defeat whoever his father sends.”
She held him back and kept her fears to herself. The men he had rounded up were a far cry from his battle-hardened recruits. Still, at least they had some time to get it right. The Kottermanis would not be a threat until spring and Swane could not get his men across the Spine in this weather.
CHAPTER 8
“The biggest problem is getting across the Spine, of course,” Dina said, smoothing the map carefully with her hand. She found it useful to stand up and lean across the table, always making sure she was opposite Swane, to give him the full benefit of her low-cut dresses. It was like an elaborate dance, with her leading and Swane following blindly.
“Tell us something we do not know,” Ryan said testily.
As she had spun her web around Swane, the silver-haired adviser had become ever more hostile towards her, as he saw his own place being supplanted.
“Shall we talk of all the problems I have solved by coming here?” she asked gently, smiling warmly at Swane. “Already my men sow dissension in Fallon’s ranks and turn the city against him. The Guild of Magic has shown us that the earlier messages you received from the nobles around Berry are lies. Fallon does not have garrisons in every town, waiting to fall upon us. And the Bankers have brought men rushing to your banner.”
“Rushing to earn coin, not serve their true King,” Ryan said sourly.
“But as long as they restore Swane to his rightful place on the throne, who cares what their motivation is?” she countered.
She had used the Guild of Magic to spread the word that anyone who wanted to fight would receive a gold piece and a pardon for any crimes committed. Every thief, outlaw and desperate man in towns and villages up and down the east coast had rushed to take advantage. They were not trained, they were armed only with crude weapons, but they all looked ready to kill. And that was the main thing.
“So, to the Spine. We need to open up one of the passes and then we need to have shelter waiting for us on the other side so the men can recover. The first thing we must do is gather enough food to take not just us but the magicians we shall need across the Spine. It would not do to lose some of them along the way and be trapped. We need to order the eastern counties to send food here. The only thing that matters is that we make it across the Spine. Once we have taken Berry, we can send food back across to the people here, if needed.”
“We can take food from the traitors in Berry for those who helped us here,” Swane declared.
“Well, the next question is when we should go. It is a delicate balancing act. The longer we wait, the more men we can attract to our banner, the more food we can amass, the more we can turn the people against Fallon and the more surprised he will be when we arrive in the west. But, if we give him more time, he will train more men. Yet if we go while he is still weak, we will arrive with fewer men and less food and find the people are behind Fallon.”
“We go sooner rather than later,” Ryan said immediately. “The men you are bringing in are useful but the real weapon is the one we gave the King – our guards and their horses. Fallon does not have anything like that.”
Dina inclined her head. It was time to cut Ryan down a little more. “Then the final question is where we should meet him.”
“Well, Berry, obviously,” Ryan said with a snort.
“Yet he and his men have spent more than a moon training to fight in Berry and have just defeated the Kottermanis there. He also has a castle to retreat to, if we manage to surprise him, while our cavalry will be of little use in the tight streets.”
“Why didn’t you think of that?” Swane demanded of Ryan.
Dina watched as Ryan spread his hands helplessly and bowed his head. It was easy enough to keep the smile on the inside, she had long practiced keeping her true feelings from her face or she would never have been able to stay married to Kinnard for so long.
“So where do you think we should meet Fallon?” Ryan asked, unable to keep the bitterness completely from his voice.
“Lake Caragh,” she said triumphantly, stabbing her finger onto the map, the site of a long-ago triumph over a peasant rebellion.
“Why?” Swane asked.
“I know Fallon. He will be unable to resist it,” she said, permitting herself a small smile at the thought of finally bringing that bastard down. “Where the King’s men destroyed the rebels. He will ache to change that history and will eagerly march into our trap there. No doubt he will think to use the marshland around there to destroy our cavalry but this is winter. The land will be frozen solid. Even the edges of the lake will be ice and the ground will be hard and flat, perfect for our cavalry. It will be a fitting end to his arrogance and we can turn to the people and tell them it was decreed by history. Remind them that the first battle there led to many years of peace and they will fall over themselves to forget about Fallon.”
She paused and looked hard at Swane. “The final decision is yours, sire,” she said.
“I like it,” Swane said after a short pause. “I like it a lot. Except for the fact the people will forget about Fallon. I intend that they should remember his death forever. It shall be so terrible that none will dare to cr
oss me ever again.”
“You are wise indeed, sire,” Ryan said, bowing his head again.
“Meinster, you need to make a tally of the men we have now, and Ryan you need to see how much food we have. As soon as we have enough to last a journey to Lake Caragh, we shall leave, to bring the throne back to its rightful King.”
“To victory, sire,” she said.
“I will drink to that!” Swane declared.
Dina immediately poured out two measures of wine, one for Swane and then one for her.
“Duchess, where is mine?” Meinster asked.
“You do not have time for wine. You have to follow your King’s orders and get everything ready for the march,” she told him. “You and Ryan both.”
They both turned to Swane, mute appeal on their faces but, to her pleasure, he waved them away.
“Go and do my bidding,” he ordered.
“To your return to your throne and a glorious rule,” she toasted him, not bothering to wait until the other two were out of the room.
He drank and then looked at her over the rim of his goblet. “I never realized you knew so much, and could be so useful to me,” he admitted.
She stood and leaned over him. “You have no idea,” she purred.
CHAPTER 9
Asil screamed while Orhan vomited.
Feray did not make a move towards cleaning it up, beyond shuffling the boy backwards from the spreading pool. Because getting up and fetching water and cloths was impossible in the ship’s crazy motion and calling for someone to help was pointless because nobody could hear them.
For two days now the ship had been hammered by the storm. At first it had seemed bad enough, with the ship pitched violently backwards and forwards as it slammed into waves. It would pick up speed going down a wave and then run into the next one with a shuddering crash that seemed to bring it to a stop and made everything shake. The wind threatened to pluck the masts right from the spine of the ship, while rain thrashed at every exposed surface, making it sound as though they were inside a huge drum.
