by Duncan Lay
“It’s different,” the youthful Casey said with world-weary experience. “That first group was young, excited and proud to protect their country. These are men from Berry who saw and heard the battle. They know what they face. And they are older, fatter and lazier.”
“They can’t all be flabby cowards!” Fallon growled.
“And they’re not. Half of them will be good and most of the others will stand in line. But there’s enough troublemakers in there to affect the others.”
Fallon rubbed his jaw. Just one man running at the wrong moment could doom them all. Time and again during the battle his recruits had turned and fought. If a handful had kept running, then the rest would not have stood and Kemal would have won that night.
“They don’t listen like the others, Dad,” Kerrin said, adding his voice to the argument. “They say a boy can’t teach them anything.”
“Split them up into small groups. Any that cause trouble get put in a special group. I’ll work with them and if they can’t be trusted, then we’ll just send them back to their homes. We can’t risk taking men into battle we don’t trust.”
Casey looked happier but Kerrin was still gloomy.
“There’s not enough crossbows for them to practice with, either,” he complained. “You lost too many of them in the battle.”
“That was Gallagher’s fault,” Fallon said with a wink at his friend. “But they take too long to make. We are better off having the smiths work on spears and swords that are easily fixed.”
“We’re going to need them. Nobody is any good with the Kottermani bows.”
Fallon grimaced. They had seized hundreds of these bows and he had hoped his men could learn how to use them over winter, for there were thousands of arrows on the Kottermani ships. Except they couldn’t hit anything. Men could part-draw them and still aim them reasonably well but those were only good at distances of about twenty yards. If they tried to draw them back fully then they struck problems. Only the strongest men could get the string back far enough and then the arrows were flying in all directions. Barely one in ten hit the target.
“Add it to the list of things we need to talk over,” he said with a sigh.
*
The idea had been for them all to sit around a table and work out the problems facing the city. Fallon had particularly liked it because it meant it was not just him making the decisions. Try as he might, he could not get out of his mind King Aidan’s dying words, that his choices would doom the country. If it was not just him making these decisions, then surely that was safer?
Except, although everyone had problems, few had any solutions.
“We shall have a good idea of how much food is in the city within the next two days. But how much are we going to give people? Do they get a daily ration or a weekly one? And how do we stop people coming back for a second ration, or sending their children to beg for more?” Riona asked.
“And does everyone get equal shares? Or do you get more if you have more children?” Nola added.
“Do you pay for them? There’s some who have money aplenty. Others who would pay if they could but they no longer have work with the Guilds or the merchants,” Devlin said.
“Then there’s the recruits. They have to eat extra because we are making them do more work,” Gallagher said.
“Don’t forget the Kottermanis. They need feeding as well. We cannot just let them starve,” Devlin pointed out.
Fallon groaned. “Let’s start with the easiest one. We have to get the Kottermanis out of the city. They can work farms and boats to earn their food. It is the least they can do after what they put our people through.”
“But don’t you think they might cause trouble? They are soldiers and we are putting them with farmers and townsfolk,” Bridgit said.
“Well, we can’t keep them here. They are living in shelters outside the walls for now but the nights are getting colder and we shall have the first snows within a moon. Already we wake to frost. We might as well chop their heads off as make them sleep outside in that,” Fallon said.
“Then we need a quiet village where they aren’t going to cause trouble. And we can’t throw out Gaelish families for them. That means we should send them to Baltimore,” she said.
“What? I don’t want filthy Kottermanis in my home!” Riona growled.
“Firstly, you’re not living there now. Nobody is. Which makes it perfect, as the closest village, Killarney, is also gone. They will be by themselves but can fish and hunt through winter. And when the weather warms up, we can get them to clean up Baltimore and then work farms across the country. Padraig and the few wizards we have left can keep an eye on them,” Bridgit said.
Fallon did not have a better idea. Nobody was happy about giving up their old village to Kottermani soldiers but where else were they going to go? He looked around the table and nobody else had anything to say, so he nodded agreement.
“What about the Kottermani bows?” Devlin asked. “Are we going to keep trying them?”
“Perhaps we might get good at them with more practice,” Gallagher suggested hopefully.
“And maybe not. Look, why not use slingers instead?” Bridgit asked. “Most of the country folk will know what to do with them and we won’t have to worry about smiths coming up with arrows. A dozen men could collect enough stones off the beach in a day to last for three battles.”
“I like that idea,” Devlin enthused. “Takes me back to when I was a boy.”
“What, you mean last moon?” Brendan said.
“Of course slingshot will be useless against Brendan. Hitting him on the head would be a waste of time,” Devlin fired back.
While Fallon was happy to see the pair of them back to insulting each other, he was conscious there were many other things that needed discussing as well.
“How much money have we got left?” he asked.
That brought all laughter to an end.
“We’ll need to count it. We haven’t been keeping much of a tally because we just asked the Guilds to supply some when we needed it,” Gallagher said finally. “We’ll get an idea by tomorrow and try and see how long we can make it last.”
“Well, we can give some people promises, as well as half-payments for a bit. And when we start rationing out the food we’ll get people to pay what they have. They won’t like it but it’s going to be a long winter and there will be no more money until the spring taxes arrive, or we can find the Guilds,” Fallon said.
Nobody looked like they were laughing as Fallon could see them all contemplating a hard winter. Normally, back in Baltimore, they would have laid in huge stocks of firewood as well as smoked fish, salted lamb and bacon, while the cellars would be full of potatoes. But this was the city and everything had to be brought in through the gates.
“Should we make sure we have all the supplies of peat and firewood as well? We don’t want people stealing anything not tied down so they can burn it to keep warm,” Nola said.
“If it comes to it, we can always pull apart the Kottermani ships,” Riona suggested.
“No, we need those to sail north in the spring, so we can find and crush Swane. He will have the Guilds with him, and all the gold and silver. After all, the mines are on his side of the Spine,” Fallon said.
“Well, we need to get through this winter before we start thinking about spring,” Bridgit said mildly.
“I’d rather strip out the Guildhouses and use what’s in there. Come to think of it, we should do just that and hand it out to the needy,” Fallon said, warming to the idea.
“Aroaril, we’re going to need a lot of men to do all that,” Gallagher said. “We’ve got to keep watch on the streets, on the food, collect the firewood and peat stores and guard those – and then train the new army as well.”
“The training will have to wait for a while. As long as Casey has a score or so of men he can get the new recruits fit and we can worry about them using weapons later. We have to make the city safe first,” Fallon said s
trongly.
“But how do we divide up the food?” Bridgit asked.
“Everyone will have to register. We’ll get all the scribes that the Guilds left behind and use them. Name, address and how many children. And then we can set it up from there,” Fallon said heavily.
“That is going to be quite the list,” Bridgit said. “And it is going to be an even bigger task on the day to make sure it does not turn into a riot.”
“I know,” Fallon said heavily. “But what other choice do we have, if we want to be fair?”
“It’s going to be like the biggest flock of angry sheep you ever saw,” Riona said.
“We could maybe use ink,” Devlin said. “When I want to go through the flock we put a splash of dye on them to make sure we don’t do them all twice.”
“Perfect! Then we could maybe shear them as well afterwards,” Brendan said.
“No, that’s a good idea,” Bridgit said. “Mark the hand of each adult as they come up and then we’ll know them again.”
“Gall, when you go back through the Guildhouses tomorrow, make sure you find as much ink as you can,” Fallon said, then stretched. “There’s probably more things we need to think about but surely that will do for today.”
Once everyone had been given their tasks for the morning, they split up, heading back to their rooms.
“Fallon, I’m worried about Brendan. Nola is scared. He’s not the man she knew. It’s not a nice feeling, knowing he is only too ready to kill people now. She makes him leave his hammer outside their room.”
“He’ll be fine,” Fallon said, brushing a stray hair away from her face.
“At least Riona is happier because it seems Devlin is back to his old self again. And Rosaleen and Gallagher look more than happy.”
“I am happy that you are not just back but stronger than before,” he said. “You even look different.”
“Maybe that’s because I’m pregnant.”
He grinned. “That is part of it but only part. I was watching you in there. The old Bridgit would never have been so strong. You were in charge of that meeting as much as I was.”
“And quite right too! Aroaril knows what you will get up to without me. You certainly made a mess of things before.”
“Now that was not my fault,” he protested, then subsided when he saw she was just joking. Or at least mostly joking.
“It’s going to be hard work,” she said, looking far more serious. “I know some of what will follow. We nearly starved to death on that ship and I saw people at their best and worst. I threw three men overboard for stealing food – and yet saw other people jump over the side of their own free will, hoping that their death would mean their children survived.”
“It’s not quite the same as that,” he said gently, hearing the pain in her voice.
“But I fear it will be. That was just a small selection of people and most of them were good country folk, used to working together as a community. We are in Gaelland’s biggest city now and most of these people don’t like their neighbors. Then there’s the rich ones who lived off the King and nobles and don’t like that they are gone. We are going to have to be careful with them, for they will be looking for a chance to stab us in the back and help Swane.”
He put his arm around her shoulders. “The people love us,” he said. “They have been cheering us every day.”
“I know. But we have to be ready for it to stop.”
Fallon heard an echo of what Gallagher had been predicting but he could not bring himself to believe that. These people had been chanting his name, for Aroaril’s sake! At least he had that in common with Cavan …
“It will be fine. You will see. They will understand.”
CHAPTER 11
“It’s time to see if everything is ready, sire,” Dina said, tossing her hair at Swane.
For the last few days she had been conducting an elaborate dance with him, teasing and tantalizing, always leaving just when his lust seemed about to consume him. She had played a similar game with both her husband Kinnard and the foolish young officer Keverne, who she had used to kill Kinnard. It was a technique she had perfected on the streets of Lunster. She had been born with nothing but her looks and her wits and she had used them to claw her way higher, until the King’s cousin had married her – and now the heir to the throne was following her around with his tongue out, like a dog in heat. For a woman with ambition and a total lack of conscience, the streets of Lunster were a playground. Guilds and nobles alike were there to be used and learned from. She knew, from a very young age, the world was a simple place. Anything that helped her was good, everything else was bad. It had taken her this far and, with a little luck, would see her not just sit on the throne of Gaelland but rule an empire. Not bad for the daughter of a whore and an unknown sailor.
“Are we about to march?” Swane asked.
“Nearly. Ryan and Meinster are in charge of preparations.”
“So finally I shall have my kingdom back!” Swane said, his face flushing.
“It will be a hard road to Berry, sire. Even with the help of Finbar and the other magicians,” she warned gently. Magic might be able to hold open the passes but it was not going to keep men warm at night, nor feed them. That was another reason to seduce Swane. His tent was going to be bigger and warmer than anyone else’s and she would rather share that than shiver in something less comfortable.
“All must be prepared to suffer for their King,” he declared.
“And they will. Whatever is needed to get you back on your throne and Fallon dragged down to die in agony,” she said, the thought sending a fierce pulse of pleasure through her. That righteous bastard had thrown her away like a rotten potato, forcing her to change her plans to be the country’s next Queen. She would show him. That was the thought that would bring her passion when she was in Swane’s bed. And being that much closer to him would make it easier to learn his secrets. He wanted power to change the world. She wanted that also.
“What are you thinking, Duchess?” Swane asked and she realized she had been silent for too long.
“Forgive me, sire, I was thinking if you would be offended if I did this.” She reached across and kissed him, forcing her tongue into his open mouth.
He stiffened, before most of him relaxed, and she knew she had him.
CHAPTER 12
Bridgit suggested they show the city that, even though there was no king or nobles, things could go on like before and, in fact, could be much better. So town criers were sent around the city to announce the following day was Petition Day, when any could bring a grievance forward.
The queue was halfway across the square by dawn and Bran was sent out with guards and scribes, to tell any later arrivals that they would not be heard that day and to come back on the morrow, then give them a scrap of parchment with a number on it, so they would not miss out again.
Meanwhile the throne was taken away and dumped in a back room, replaced by a simple table and seven chairs for the new Ruling Council.
Fallon had hoped they might be able to break up Aidan’s throne and use it for money but, while it looked imposing, it had proved to be simply gold leaf painted over wood. And not even good wood.
“Like Aidan himself. Looked pretty but inside it was rotten,” Devlin said, giving it a huge shove and nearly making the arm fall off while they were waiting in the meeting room.
“Talking of that, do we really have to wear this stuff?” Brendan complained, pulling at the stiff collar of his tunic, the one made for him on his first day in Berry, when they had been presented to King Aidan.
“Well, you can’t wear your old smith’s apron. Nobody will take you seriously then,” Nola said briskly, adjusting the way the tunic sat on her husband.
“I’ll show them the hammer and then they’ll stop laughing,” Brendan rumbled.
Fallon looked at Nola’s stricken face and groaned inside.
“I didn’t mean that,” Brendan said awkwardly but nobody believed hi
m.
“Well, at least the ladies are looking stunning,” Fallon said hastily.
Riona laughed. “I never thought to see myself wearing this!” She twirled around to show off her dress. It was not of a Kottermani cut, nor was it the Kottermani silk, but it was the best spun wool, clinging in all the right places and disguising the rest.
“You always look beautiful, no matter what you’re wearing,” Devlin said.
“Aroaril, that’s the sort of shite I expected to hear from you, Fallon,” Bridgit said, walking in and holding her long skirts up from the floor.
“Well, I never had the chance to say it. You were taking so long,” Fallon grumbled lightly, then grinned. “Although it was worth the wait. You look like a princess.”
“Oh please,” Bridgit snorted. “The Queen’s mother, maybe!”
“No, that dressmaker has done an amazing job, although it is you who makes the dress look truly good,” he said, stepping forwards and taking her in his arms.
“Oh please. The poor girl is feeling queasy enough as it is without your blarney,” Riona said.
“Besides, by the time you manage to work out how to take the damned thing off, the passion’s gone and everyone’s fallen asleep,” Nola added with a chuckle.
“Munro was a good dressmaker,” Bridgit said. “Where did you find him?”
“Apparently all the nobles used him. So I reckoned if those greedy bastards used him, then he had to be the best,” Devlin said.
“Really? I didn’t know Munro worked with them. I’m not so happy about having him in the castle with us then,” Bridgit said.
“What? He’s a dressmaker, nothing more. They use only the best, that’s all. Besides, if he was part of some noble’s plot, he would have left the city,” Devlin sniffed.
“Well, still watch him. I want men to escort him everywhere when he is in the castle,” Fallon said.
“More to the point, how are we paying him?” Bridgit asked.
