by Duncan Lay
“It will appear as if he is in a coma, and nothing any of the Kottermani physicians can do will restore him, until I release him,” Finbar said wearily. “We shall tell them he was struck by a poisoned quarrel and they shall waste their efforts trying to save him from that.”
“Excellent. We shall need only a few days,” Dina said. “I will pick our target and then we just have to convince them. And I can be most convincing.”
CHAPTER 35
“You killed them all?” Bridgit gasped.
Fallon shrugged. “Well, I wasn’t about to leave them behind to cause trouble for us. Half of them only got out of Aidan’s filthy chamber where he wanted me to offer Kerrin’s heart to Zorva because they are cowards and ran rather than face me. It was justice, just delayed.”
Bridgit had to resist the temptation to bury her face in her hands. “But to execute them all at once, and the way you did! Tell me it’s not true you actually hung the Count of Rork with a rope made of his own guts?”
Fallon grinned. “No. But that’s the tale people are telling then?”
She hit his arm. “Be serious! That’s being whispered around the streets, and not the real story, that the nobles were made to pay for their crimes. We should have brought them back here, where judgment could be passed, and then they would have been taken out to their old counties and executed there, so the people could see their tormentors punished.”
“Dead is dead. And don’t forget how many of these scum have escaped us, one way or another. We couldn’t take the risk,” he argued.
“It’s not about that. We are turning this country upside down and we have to be careful that we don’t destroy it. People fear change anyway and we are taking away everything that is familiar to them. What we are removing was no good but until we replace it with something better, they are scared and rightly so.”
“And you know what everyone in Gaelland is thinking?” he asked skeptically.
She grabbed his hand, wanting him to listen, really listen to her. “Yes, because I was one of them. Remember? I was terrified of change. I didn’t want to leave my home, let alone my village. I didn’t know or like the Duke of Lunster but when he disappeared I knew something bad was on the way and I hated the thought of something new and different.”
“That was not the same,” he said, his voice becoming gentler.
“But it is! That is being repeated in homes right across Gaelland. People are asking who the new ruler is and they are hearing stories of Fallon, who gutted King Aidan in front of a crowd, who hanged the old Archbishop and all the nobles, one of them with a noose made of his own guts. Then he went through the town and kicked people out of their homes and hung them too, if they argued with him.”
“Now that was not how it happened!” he protested.
“I know that,” she said, tugging on his hand. “But they don’t know you like I do. We may have killed the nobles but there are still plenty of their supporters out there, people who made a good living from the King and his cronies. Yes, they are few in number but they are all loud and they are telling anyone who will listen that you are more dangerous than Aidan.”
“What? I am the one who stopped that bastard from killing children!” Fallon cried.
“Listen to me!” she snapped. “They will see that and understand it. But we have to be more careful. We have to show that we listen and care, the way we did when people petitioned us. We have to travel around the country and do the same in every town, so they can see we bring justice and fairness to Gaelland.”
He relaxed and pulled her into an embrace. “You are right. It is a good idea. But I cannot be sorry about killing those bastards in Meinster. I saw their faces leering at me under this very castle, when they wanted me to kill Kerrin.”
She held him tight. “You are a good man. I know it, we just have to show the country that.”
“Then we will.” He stopped and looked at her sideways. “Are you doing too much? You are looking tired.”
She forced a smile. “I am tired. But I would rather be busy than worrying about the baby. Running around and working hard seems to suit me, so I don’t want to stop.” She did not have to add the rest of it. He knew as well as she did how the last few pregnancies had gone, the early hope descending into fears, worries and finally blood and tears. This time was different—she was different—but she could feel the old fears lurking at the back of her mind, ready to attack if she let her guard down.
He ran his hand over her stomach. “You have to take it easier. I don’t want you to do as much. Take the day off, maybe get some new dresses made,” he said gently.
She hesitated. She had noticed how her clothes were becoming tighter around her middle, even accounting for the weight she had lost on that voyage back from Adana, yet getting new clothes would not only be a bad look in a city literally tightening its belt every day but would also be a challenge to the bad luck that had robbed her of every pregnancy but Kerrin. She did not know if she was ready for that.
“I can’t take the day off. There is too much to do,” she said.
“I won’t allow it,” he said firmly. “I could not forgive myself if something happened to you. Rest, spend time with Kerrin. Get more dresses made so you look good when we travel around the country. I will look after everything else.”
“You can’t do that,” she protested.
“I can and I will,” he retorted. “And that is the end of it.”
She forced a smile. “Then I shall do so. And what will you be doing?”
“The same,” he said grimly. “Hunting Swane and Dina.”
*
“How many dresses do you need, my lady?” Munro asked respectfully.
“I think at least six,” Bridgit said, after careful consideration. She had been unsure about Munro because of his connections to the nobility but having him watched and even followed for a few days had revealed nothing suspicious. It seemed he was nothing more than a dressmaker. “We shall be traveling quickly, and lightly, but we need to look respectable. People must take us seriously and they will only do that if we look the part.”
“Traveling, my lady? In this weather? Where?” Munro asked, gesturing towards the horn panel that shook a little in the window opening as winter winds rattled around the castle.
“Everywhere,” Bridgit said with a slight smile. “We go to spread the good news around Gaelland, that the evil King is dead and a new Ruling Council will bring justice to all, and that everyone can have a say in who is on that Council. And please, Munro, don’t call me a ‘Lady’. Call me by my name, Bridgit.”
“I give respect where it is due, my lady,” Munro said with a slight bow. “I call you that because you are that. Now, the dresses will be easy enough but when do you need them by? When do you leave?”
“As soon as possible. A couple of days, perhaps,” Bridgit said. “But all six do not have to be ready by then. We shall travel by magic, so we can return and pick up others.”
“Would you like the dress colors to reflect the traditional colors of each county, my lady? To show you pay them respect?”
She thought for a moment. “That might be a good idea,” she conceded. “We are replacing the nobles but people still associate themselves with their county and its flag.”
“Excellent. So where are you visiting first, so I can make dresses to match?”
She hesitated for a moment but if she was going to have dresses resembling the counties, he had to know which ones. “Meinster, Lagway and Maeyo,” she said.
“Excellent. I am sure you will make a good impression, my lady.”
She turned to look closely at him. “Munro, you must be a man who hears many things as you travel around the city and speak to your many clients, many of them rich and important people.”
He gave her a strange look and she suddenly felt uneasy. “I mean no disrespect,” she said. “I am not asking you to betray confidences you might have overheard.”
“Thank goodness for that, my la
dy!” Munro said, with a shaky laugh and she joined him.
“No, I just wondered what the word on the street was about the King being replaced by our Ruling Council?”
Munro shook his head sadly. “Alas, my lady, I would have no idea. I pay no attention to idle gossip. All I care about is making people happy.”
She looked at him for a moment before nodding. She was tempted to ask him more questions but she had so many other things that needed to be done, she could not waste more time here. She was barely sleeping as it was. “Of course. Forget I asked. Now, about the dresses?”
Munro bowed again. “I shall work as fast as possible, my lady. I shall have at least a few ready in two days’ time, and the rest a day later.”
*
Munro gazed out over the city, ignoring the houses below but instead trying to gauge the weather. It was blustery and gray but no more than an average Gaelish day. Crucially, it did not look like snow was on the way. He turned to the small wooden boxes he had lined up along one wall of the top story of his house. It smelled in here, the sharp tang of bird guano, but he only came here a couple of times a day and used a thick, lined trapdoor so that the smell, and the birds, stayed up here.
Bridgit had given him valuable information and he would have really liked some magicked birds to spread the word around. He had a couple left for the longer trips but, just to be on the safe side, he would send regular ones as well, pigeons trained to return to their homes. He had men in each county seat around the country, keeping an ear out for what each noble had been doing, and he was used to getting regular reports from them. He occasionally sent back instructions and this was one of those times.
He wrote a series of identical messages in his neat handwriting, making it as small as possible, then used a pinch of sand to dry the ink before rolling each tiny scroll up and placing it in a series of oilskin pouches, ready for fastening to the birds’ legs. He would send out two birds for each town, and a third magicked bird to the first three towns Fallon and Bridgit would be visiting. The message was simple: stir the town up against them. The Ruling Council wanted to make the common people think that killing the King and his nobles was good for them and ordinary citizens would now get justice. Well, when they called for petitioners, it would be Munro’s people and not the commoners who came forward.
He watched the birds flap away and turned to another scroll, one that Duchess Dina had given him on the night she left Berry. It was addressed to Keverne, the Lunster guard she had seduced and tricked into killing her husband. Keverne had bungled the job and now languished in a cell under the castle, along with the other guards who had disposed of the Duke of Lunster. Munro’s instructions were simple: get the scroll and a set of lockpicks to Keverne and let him do the rest. It had taken a great deal of control for Munro not to break the seal and open the scroll to read what was inside, because not knowing something was like a thorn in his foot that stung all the time.
He had put this scroll aside because it had been too dangerous before and more important that he get Swane’s hidden package out. But perhaps it was now time to deliver it. If the Ruling Council returned intact from the ambush he planned, they would discover death inside their own castle.
CHAPTER 36
“You look lovely,” Fallon said.
“I know your hair is receding but I didn’t realize your eyesight was going as well,” Bridgit said.
“No, I am serious!” he protested.
“No, you are full of blarney, as you always have been,” she said with a smile. “But thank you anyway.”
“Can we get this over with?” Padraig asked. “It might seem simple but this is devilishly hard magic and I’d rather get it over and done with.”
Bridgit nodded and took her place in the line. Padraig and two other wizards stood ready to open a gateway for this company of men, as well as the Ruling Council. Fallon had wanted to bring more but Padraig had drawn the line, saying keeping a gateway open for any longer was impossible. Just in case there was any trouble on the other side, a score of soldiers would be going first, with orders to make the area secure, then the rest would follow.
Bridgit had never traveled this way before and, although she knew Padraig and the other wizards had been sending people in all directions for days, she was still nervous. What if the magic did not recognize the baby and it remained behind when she traveled through? She almost stepped out of the line at that thought but Fallon gripped her hand and smiled and she took a deep breath. It’s just a fear. One of many you have faced down and defeated. As you will defeat this one.
Then the line moved forwards, not slowly, as men almost running through the tree, and she did not have time to worry, just to follow them. She emerged in a strange park.
“It’s quick but I don’t know if I will ever get used to it,” she admitted.
“At least there is nobody around,” Fallon said. “Form up! Straight to the main square!”
Meinster was quiet, doors and windows shut, and the few people they saw on the street scuttled off to safety as soon as they spotted armed men.
“The people must still be afraid,” Fallon observed.
Bridgit caught sight of the bodies swaying gently in the wind from ropes fastened to the castle battlements. “I can’t think why,” she said crisply. “Get some men to cut those down. And send more around the town shouting out that we shall be hearing petitions. Anyone who has a case, or who needs something, should come to the main square.”
Fallon turned and she caught his arm. “And they are to say that nobody will be harmed,” she ordered. “Not one person will be hurt this day.”
“What if we find Swane here?” Fallon protested.
She held up a finger. “Don’t be foolish. Not one person. Understand me? We have to show these people that we are here to help them, not harm them. We are different from Meinster and Aidan and all the others.”
Fallon looked exasperated but she fixed him with her favorite stare and he nodded with bad grace.
“Not one person hurt. I swear it,” he said reluctantly.
“Good. Now get working. It’s freezing out here.”
Some of the castle furniture had been returned to the main square, showing signs of being left out in the open. With the bodies cut down, tables moved to create somewhere they could all sit down—even if there were no chairs and they had to make do with heavy chests and the like—and a series of fires burning around the square, she was feeling much better.
“Let’s see who comes forward. We just need one. After all, I can feel a hundred eyes on me now,” she commented.
Yet, despite the soldiers shouting out that all were welcome to bring their grievances forward and have them heard, nobody appeared.
“Maybe we need to come back tomorrow,” Riona suggested.
Bridgit was about to agree when she heard a door open and a young man strode across the cobbles towards them. Soldiers stepped aside for him and he avoided the fires to approach the table.
“Greetings,” Fallon said, although she could hear him forcing warmth into his voice. “Who are you and what petition do you bring?”
“My name is Cleary and I demand justice for a wrong done to me,” the young man said in a clear, loud voice.
“Then tell us of this wrong and we shall see if it can be put right,” Fallon said, with far more enthusiasm.
“Three days ago, a man came to our town, sent his men to break into my house and throw me and my sisters onto the street, then he had them drag out all our furniture and he hung my father, an innocent merchant who had done nothing to break any Gaelish law all his life. My mother died yesterday of a fever she caught while waiting through two freezing nights for my father’s body to be returned, and our furniture replaced. You now sit on some of our items and the man who murdered my father sits with you. I demand judgment on him.” He put his hands behind his back and stood with a strange expression of satisfaction on his face.
Bridgit hung onto Fallon’s arm but it
took all of her strength to restrain him. “Be calm. Remember, all are watching,” she hissed urgently.
She could see Fallon’s face was pale, while there was a terrible tension in the square as the soldiers grasped what had been said. The wrong word or action and things could get bloody.
“For Aroaril’s sake, leave it to me,” she told him.
For a moment she thought he was going to jump to his feet anyway, then he nodded jerkily and she turned her attention back to their accuser.
“Tell me,” she said, her voice cutting through the square, “how did you father make his money? Was he a supporter of Earl Meinster? Did he sell goods to the Earl?”
Cleary’s face showed a mixture of surprise at not being arrested and, strangely, of disappointment. That made Bridgit even more suspicious of what was going on here.
“My father was a law-abiding man. He sold goods to anyone, including the lawful lord of this county,” he said. “And for that he was murdered!”
“Did you know Earl Meinster worshipped the Dark God? And that your money was bought with the blood of innocents?” Bridgit shouted. “Did your father reveal that Earl Meinster insisted his trusted circle also had to convert? Have you lost a sibling lately?”
Clancy’s self-satisfied look faltered.
“So you will give me no justice? You will let a murderer walk free?” he cried.
Bridgit slapped the table. “We need you to take an oath before Aroaril, before we can give you judgment,” she said.
Clancy hesitated, then he threw up his hands. “I should have known better than to expect justice from the likes of you! We would have had more justice from the old King!”
“Only if you paid for it!” Bridgit shouted.
