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

by Duncan Lay

  “We do not have time!” he snarled. “We have to catch Fallon. He might be planning a trap but if we can catch him on the road, he will either have to face us or flee, leaving behind our food.”

  Dina smiled and nodded, although she was cursing furiously inside. It was much harder to seduce him while swathed in heavy furs. All she could do was go along with him.

  “Get Finbar to send out birds as scouts. We shall see where he has gone.”

  Dina sighed. “Finbar and the rest of his wizards are exhausted. It will be days before they can help us and they need food.”

  “Then get them some!”

  Dina turned away to keep him from seeing the anger on her face. There were other people to do these jobs. She needed considerable time with a mirror and Kottermani powders to help her deal with this harsh light and maintain her hold on Swane.

  “Captain Kane!” she called. “We need raiding parties!”

  *

  “They are following us,” Padraig reported, stroking the head of the crow he had sent back to look. “But their wizards are being carried in their wagons and it looks like they are on their last legs.”

  “Good. I want riders heading out in all directions to warn any farmer or village around here to get out. They are desperate and Aroaril knows what they will do for food and warmth,” Fallon ordered.

  “They would not be like this if you had not burned up Swane’s friends,” Rosaleen warned. “I fear we have condemned some of these farmers to a horrible death as a result.”

  Fallon spat into the filthy snow at the side of the road. “Would you rather we left them food and let them take the country and kill us all? As it is we’ve added nearly a day to our route because we’re leaving them a trail across fields rather than following the road and having them walk right into a village.”

  “We know there are no easy answers,” Gallagher said soothingly.

  “Good. Then get those riders out there and, if we have to, drag these people out of their homes. Until we can lure Swane into our trap and destroy the bastard, he can still do this land untold harm.”

  *

  Bridgit covered her face with her hands to try and hide her feelings. Finding Kemal gone had been bad enough but a thorough search of the castle had also turned up something else. Someone had broken into Swane’s old rooms and emptied out some hidden storage area. What Swane had there was anyone’s guess, but she was sure it was nothing good.

  The guards on the rear wall, a pair of mothers from Baltimore, were ashen-faced, although she merely excused them from guard duty for a quarter-moon, putting them on double kitchen duties instead. There were no more servants in the castle. They could not afford to pay them.

  “Double the guards on the city gates. Search everything, I don’t care how long it takes,” she ordered. “Then tonight we double the guards on every wall and have patrols going around the castle.”

  “Should we not punish those two a bit more?” Nola asked. “They let someone get in here without even noticing.”

  Bridgit shook her head tiredly. “They are not real guards. They are mothers, exhausted after a day working to keep this castle going, who talked by a warm brazier instead of walking their post in the cold. It is not their fault; it is ours for putting them in that position. Besides, if they had been better guards, they would probably be dead now and I would be explaining to tearful children why their mothers were killed.”

  “What do we do? Kemal was our insurance against the Kottermanis,” Riona asked. “Who could have guessed that he’d climb out of his room? He must have a set like a prize bull to try it in this weather.”

  Bridgit had to stop herself from shouting that she’d warned them of this. This is what comes of trying to be too nice, she told herself bitterly.

  “We have to get him back, somehow,” she said aloud. “Kemal will either try to link up with his men at Baltimore or help Swane at Lake Caragh. Either way, Fallon has to know what happened, because, without Kemal, we are helpless against a Kottermani invasion.”

  CHAPTER 22

  Dina swallowed the last of the soup and shuddered at the taste. If this was the best they had to eat that night – and Swane would tolerate no less – what were the mercenaries eating? Each day they had raiding columns ranging out to either side, searching for villages, hamlets, even farms, anywhere that could yield food. Fallon had obviously tried to clean the countryside, taking away people and food from their path, while his wide trail, the mark of wagons, horses and men through the snow, veered from the road and cut across country to avoid populated areas. Still, every day Swane’s guards were able to find things. A couple of cattle, or some breeding sheep and a pig or two. The farmers who had owned them were put to the sword, although not before their women were raped. Dina had suggested this reward to Swane, as it made sure there was never any shortage of volunteers for these raiding parties.

  But, while the raiders never returned empty-handed, they only returned with just enough to keep them going. The wizards were perpetually exhausted, using their limited powers to keep the army warm through the freezing nights, then being carried in wagons through the day until they could be revived a little with a broth at night. The men simply melted snow and then threw in everything they could find to eat, sacks of oats, winter stores of vegetables and every piece of animal they had brought back. But it was never enough. Dina could feel a chill about this army, which had nothing to do with the weather. She could feel they were dancing to Fallon’s tune and she had to change that before it was too late.

  The guards were confident enough, thanks to their bloody raids, although a score of horses had gone lame and had been added to the pot. They all wanted revenge for the company that Fallon had stripped and left in the cold. Dina had ordered the survivors to stay behind—they were probably dead by now—but it was easy to blame Fallon and give the guards another reason to be brutal on their food raids.

  But the mercenaries were another story. Every day, a handful more dropped by the side of the road, unable to keep going. Many had poor shoes to begin with and the days of marching had reduced those to scraps. Men shuffled along with bits of sacking over their feet, wearing whatever could be stolen—old tunics and even dresses covering their faces from the wind and snow.

  “We shall catch him soon,” Swane announced, sucking the last strip of meat off a pork rib.

  “And what then, sire? He is obviously planning to make a stand at a place of his choosing,” she said gently.

  “Which looks like it will be Lake Caragh! He thinks we are walking into his trap and really he is falling into ours!”

  She hid her frustration. “Sire, would it not be better to turn aside and find a small town, where we can recover? Our wizards are a powerful weapon, but they are almost useless at the moment. We should force Fallon to come at us.”

  Swane shook his head fiercely. “I have spoken and my word is law,” he announced. “You shall see I am right, when we reach the lake tomorrow and then feast upon Fallon’s supplies after we have slaughtered his men!”

  Dina bowed her head and ground her teeth. She had thought Ryan’s death would have been the final seal on her dominance over Swane but the weather had loosened it.

  *

  Fallon looked over Lake Caragh with a mixture of fear and relief. Swane’s men had chased after him with all the recklessness he had hoped, but rather more speed than he would have liked. His own men and horses were tired, and he could also see smoke on the horizon that said Swane had discovered yet another farmer and snuffed out another few lives.

  The news of Prince Kemal’s escape was also hanging heavily over him. Bridgit had not held back, warning it was probably agents of Swane’s that had him. That was a bitter blow. Kemal had been their shield against the Kottermanis returning in the spring. The only bright spot was that Kemal was trapped in Gaelland. There was no sailing out in this weather. True, there were days when the sea calmed down but they were rare indeed. Usually it threw itself against the c
oast with a rare fury and anyone hoping to make it to Kotterman was doomed from the moment they stepped on board. All he had to do was destroy Swane and then hunt down Kemal before spring. Then he would chain that bastard to a wall. Aroaril curse the idea of treating him with respect.

  “About time we made it back here. Sleeping in the snow leaves me cold these days,” Devlin announced, breaking Fallon’s dark thoughts.

  Fallon bit back a sharp comment about Devlin making everything into a joke. Perhaps it was just the farmer’s way with dealing with the tension. Aroaril knew he was feeling it. That was one of the reasons he had burned Ryan and Meinster. He needed an outlet for the fear inside of him. It would not be so bad if it was only his life at stake, but there were so many lives resting on his shoulders: his friends, the families and, eventually, everyone in Gaelland. For Swane and Dina would be ruthless if they won. The punishment would be endless.

  “How are the men faring?” Fallon asked, driving his mind away from that dark road.

  “Rosaleen and the priests are being kept busy each night healing feet and hands. But if we are struggling, imagine what the Zorva-worshippers are going through,” Gallagher replied.

  Fallon nodded. That was what he had been counting on, but until he saw Swane’s army he would not believe it.

  “Ride ahead and get Gannon and Bran to show us the path through the defenses,” he ordered. “The last thing we want is for us to blunder into them.”

  Gannon, Bran and four companies had been left behind—as well as the inhabitants of the two villages that lived on either bank of Lake Caragh—to keep preparing the ground while they marched out to lure Swane in. He hoped they had finished, for Swane had to be close behind, judging by the smoke that accompanied Swane’s approach.

  Gallagher rode around in a wide circle but returned in a much straighter line with Bran and Gannon.

  “We are all ready,” the black-bearded officer said, his face in a wide smile.

  “And we have hot food ready for the men,” the bald-headed Gannon added.

  Fallon nodded. Gannon had not let him down yet but he was still uneasy about the big Lunsterman, a fact not helped by Gannon’s protective loyalty to Bridgit.

  “Then lead us in and then close the line in the defenses,” he ordered.

  *

  A few turns of the hourglass later, after he had a chance to inspect the work, and eat a bowl of hot stew, Fallon was feeling much happier. His plan was complete and all was ready for Swane’s arrival. He would form up with the lake on his right, protecting his flank. Swane could either come straight at him or swing around and try to attack his open left flank. He was prepared for either eventuality, after the men had taken the natural features of Lake Caragh and altered them subtly but significantly. The Gaelish weather had also helped, covering all evidence of what they had been doing in an ankle-thick carpet of snow.

  “Swane won’t know what will hit him,” Brendan gloated.

  “As long as he doesn’t get an inkling of what we have waiting,” Fallon said sharply. “Padraig, can your people keep him blinded?”

  Padraig waved his hand airily. “Easy,” he said. “They have been barely able to send a bird after us.”

  Fallon wanted to say more but knew he would just sound nervous. The people they had picked up along the way to save them from Swane’s path of destruction had been sent back to the village of Strabane, on the “safe” side of the lake. They had abandoned the other village of Dunclady.

  Swane could sleep in the village but he would find nothing else to help him. All was ready and all they had to do was wait and worry.

  “Bring the men together. I will speak to them, and Rosaleen needs to as well. They have to know that Aroaril walks with them and they are fighting to stop their children from being sacrificed,” he said.

  “Most of them don’t have children,” Gallagher said.

  “Although there may be a few unborn ones swelling bellies back in Berry,” Devlin chuckled.

  “Bring them in,” Fallon said harshly. I might be able to ease their fears, but who can stop me from worrying …?

  *

  The massed ranks made an impressive sight and Fallon knew they would be taking strength from that. He certainly was.

  “My brothers, we fought the best warriors in the world in Berry and defeated them! No other nation has ever defeated the Kottermanis before—you are the first!” he called out, knowing Padraig’s powers would make sure his voice was reaching every ear. He guessed other nations had beaten the Kottermanis in battle before, even if they had eventually lost their war, but he was not going to bother with that. He paused for a few heartbeats, seeing the veterans of that fight remember the stinking, bloody horror of the tight streets. He swallowed. Despite the cold, he was sweating and his stomach felt like it was trying to escape his body. He forced it back down and pasted a smile on his face.

  “What you face tomorrow will be nothing like that! When we took Aidan’s castle we did it without losing a man. We will be fighting men even more helpless that that. What you go through in training is far worse than what you will see tomorrow. Swane will send a rabble against us and they will be slaughtered like pigs in our defenses, before they even reach us. You will make this country free and safe and you will be honored as heroes forevermore! In years to come, when men talk of Lake Caragh, they will not speak of the King who turned on his people, but of you—the heroes who saved this country! You will live forever!”

  With a little prompting, they roared their approval and Fallon nodded to Rosaleen.

  “Pray with me!” she called, her voice high and clear. Instantly the men dropped to one knee, heedless of the snow.

  “Aroaril, walk with us when we stand against the forces of Zorva tomorrow. Darkness threatens all your friends and families. But if you stand strong, you will turn it back. That is Aroaril’s promise to you. Ask him to be with you, now and forever. He will be guarding your back while you fight and you cannot lose.”

  She paused and Fallon offered up his own, desperate silent prayer that he did not lead them all to doom.

  “It is done!” Rosaleen announced. “He is with us!”

  This time the cheer was even louder and the men rose to their feet. Now Fallon could see smiles on faces everywhere.

  “Eat well. Sleep well. Tomorrow, stand strong and we shall celebrate a victory over evil!”

  With a final cheer, the men streamed away to where meat was sizzling on spits.

  “Fine words,” Padraig said. “I think we are ready for tomorrow. That will put a little steel into spines.”

  “As long as it keeps Swane’s steel out of their bellies, I will be happy,” Fallon said. He knew he would not sleep that night. Fear sat heavily on his shoulders and he would have gratefully exchanged his life for the knowledge that his men would not only win the battle but live.

  CHAPTER 23

  The ship sailed into Adana, exciting plenty of activity on the harbor wall.

  Usually the harbor wall was sparsely guarded but, with the Emperor in the city, it was very different. The giant bows were all manned and swung around to cover the ship as it approached, while a pair of smaller ships, each packed with uniformed guards, swung in from either side to escort them to a berth on the docks.

  Feray had ordered Kemal’s personal banner to be hung from the mainmast, and the escort ships kept their distance as a result, but she knew that word would be racing around the city. The Crown Prince was supposed to be in Gaelland, preparing the new province for the Emperor’s visit in the spring, not racing back through storm and sea. She could only guess what was being said but knew it would not be good. Kemal’s younger brother Durzu would be plotting furiously.

  She took a deep breath. This was going to be tricky. She had hoped a message stamped with Kemal’s seal would be enough to release the army that had been assembled in Adana. But Yonetici himself was another matter. She would have to mix truth with half-truths and perhaps stir in a lie or two if she was
going to outwit Durzu’s ambition.

  They swung into the berth, to see a company of guards drawn up at the end of the jetty.

  “Come,” she told her sons. “We have faced the worst storm and survived. Now we shall face this. Show no fear and speak loudly if the Emperor asks you a question.”

  She led them down towards where a set of steps was being dragged into place by a gang of slaves, only for Gokmen, Gemici and a host of sailors to block the family’s path.

  “Highness, we would be your honor guard, if you would let us,” Gokmen said loudly.

  She looked at the faces of the sailors, at the mixture of weapons they carried and smiled.

  “I thank you all for your kind offer but, as you can see, the Emperor has already provided an honor guard. You men have done more than your duty in getting us home and I shall be sure to tell the Emperor that. Rest now, relax and I shall be back to personally hand you the rewards you have earned.”

  She nodded her head and they stepped aside. She knew, as did they, judging from the expressions on many faces, that they had offered to fight and die for her, if necessary. But she could not ask that of them. They had brought her this far, she must finish the journey herself.

  She stepped off the ship and walked carefully down to the jetty, then checked to make sure her sons also made it safely. When she turned, the sailors lining the ship’s rail saluted her, as one. She smiled and nodded carefully, keeping a tight control on her emotions. It took a few moments but she took her sons’ hands and then turned to see a man step out of the ranks of the honor guard.

  “My dear Feray, what a pleasure to see you. But where is my honored brother?” Durzu asked.

  Her heart did not sink—it plummeted—but she let none of that show.

  “My dear Durzu, a pleasure to see you also. My husband, your elder brother, is back in Gaelland. He sent me with an urgent message for his father, the divine Emperor Yonetici,” she said formally.

  Durzu’s smile lit up. “Then let me escort you to my father,” he said.