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

by Duncan Lay

Clancy looked furious and then stormed away.

  “Laugh,” Bridgit said to the others. “Laugh at him.”

  It took a few heartbeats for them to begin, and it was a strangled sound at first, but it swiftly spread and by the time Clancy got out of the square, it was echoing with laughter.

  “Send ten men to follow him. I want to know where he goes,” Fallon instructed.

  Bridgit leaned back, then remembered her makeshift chair had no back and pulled herself upright. “Right. Hopefully we can get some real ones now,” she said.

  A handful of people began to appear but, rather than complaints, they were a litany of demands. A succession of young women wanted the money that had been promised them by nobles or bishops or, sometimes, both. Other people wanted money that was owed them by the late Earl for food or drink or services.

  “We do not have money to hand out,” Fallon told them, time and again. Bridgit nudging him in the ribs every time he looked like he was going to leap into action.

  “That is the first duty of a ruler, to pay their debts,” one young woman declared, wrapped in a heavy fur cloak that would have cost as much as a small house. “How am I to survive the winter?”

  “I am sure you will keep warm somehow,” Bridgit said sardonically. “One way or another.”

  “And you complain about me not being nice!” Fallon muttered as the woman flounced away.

  “Are there no normal people in Meinster? It’s as if there has been some town discussion to make us look bad,” Bridgit muttered.

  “That’s ridiculous. They had no idea we were coming,” Fallon said.

  “Or did they? That Clancy didn’t just offer himself up for punishment,” Bridgit said darkly. “I reckon he had friends waiting to rescue him if we did anything.”

  “Maybe we should go looking for them.”

  Bridgit blew on her frozen hands. “No,” she decided. “It will only cause more trouble. We need to get out of here. The Earl of Meinster was clever enough to have created a class of people beholden to him. They may not mourn him but they mourn his money. We are doing nothing here except freezing our backsides off. I can barely feel mine.”

  “I’ll feel it for you, if you like,” he said with a wink.

  “Well, at least you can still make a jest,” she said. “At least you haven’t been slaughtering so many at all the other towns you’ve been searching.”

  “But we haven’t found Swane, either. Not even a word of him. He must be hiding somewhere quiet.”

  “You will find him,” she said.

  “We’d better. Or places like this will be the least of our problems.”

  CHAPTER 37

  Dina prepared herself with extra care as their ship was escorted into Adana’s harbor by a pair of large ships bristling with Kottermani warriors, with enough bows trained on them to turn them all into hedgehogs if the wrong order was given. If that was not enough, huge crossbows up on the harbor wall had followed their progress, the spear-like missiles looking as though they could tear the hull out of their ship. Of course, they had enough magic to turn them into splinters and the harbor into a death pit, but it was far better to let the Kottermanis think they had all the power. For now.

  She put the finishing touches on her face as they tied up the ship, then walked out on deck to see a large company of soldiers, all of them again carrying bows, surround the ship on three sides. An impressively dressed officer stepped out of the ranks, a pair of shield bearers on either side, ready to protect him if necessary. He shouted something at them but they had no idea what he was saying.

  “Does anyone speak Gaelish?” Dina called, standing at the bow and keeping her empty hands in plain view. She was wearing the best dress she had and it fitted her like a second skin. She had gone hungry on the trip across from Gaelland to make sure it flattered in all the right places.

  “Who are you and why do you come to Adana?” the officer demanded, his Gaelish thickly accented but understandable.

  “I am the Duchess Dina of Lunster and with me is King Swane, the rightful ruler of Gaelland. We have rescued Prince Kemal and seek to return him to his father, the Emperor of Kotterman,” she called, making sure her words were clear and well-spaced.

  The soldiers did not move, proving they did not speak Gaelish, but the effect on the officer was dramatic.

  “You have Prince Kemal? Where is he? Show him now!” he demanded, the agitation showing in both his voice and face.

  Dina spread her hands wider. “Alas, he is sick and cannot wake. He was injured and, we believe, poisoned. We have kept him alive but hope you might have doctors who can help.”

  She watched the officer carefully and saw a variety of emotions flick across his face. Worry replaced shock, then a different expression wiped that out before a mask fell into place. She liked the glimpse he had given her—it looked a lot like raw ambition. “Please, we need to see the Emperor,” she added. “We have vital news about a rebellion in his new province of Gaelland. Can you escort us to his court?”

  The officer looked up at her. “I can do better than that. I can take you to him, for he is here in Adana. But, we have had word that Aidan was King, until he was killed for worshipping Zorva, while his son Swane is steeped in evil. So I think you had better explain, before I let you anywhere near the Emperor. And be convincing.”

  He snapped an order and bows bent, a hundred arrows pointed at her. Finbar and Swane had promised they could protect her but that was scant comfort at such a moment. Still, she had risked her life on convincing a man so many times that once more was nothing.

  She laughed lightly. “History is always written by the victors! That is a story told by cruel rebels, who want to pretend that their murder and pillage is not evil but somehow approved by Aroaril. King Aidan was overthrown by a vicious rebel called Fallon and the Kottermani force led by Prince Kemal was defeated and captured. We managed to save the Prince and brought him here. There is no Zorva-worship going on, it is a simple rebellion. If one of your other provinces rebelled, would they say the Emperor was a fair man or would they paint him as a demon?”

  The officer nodded slowly but still looked unsure, so she used her final card. Apparently none of the Kottermani priests could use magic, so it followed that they could bluff their way past their conversion to Zorva.

  “Take us to one of your churches. Bring us inside and let us pray to Aroaril if you doubt us,” she challenged, saying it as if it were nothing, as if she and Swane had not worried over it all night.

  The officer nodded again, but this time decisively. “Follow me. Try to attack and you will die.”

  “We shall do only what you say. Sir, may I have the honor of your name?”

  The officer rattled off a string of orders in Kottermani before turning back to her.

  “I am Prince Durzu, brother to Kemal.”

  Durzu’s men brought a litter and Kemal was carefully loaded into it and carried through the city. Kane and his remaining men handed over their weapons, then joined the procession, while a company of Kottermani guards watched the ship and the sailors. Dina had no fear of the sailors betraying them. Not only did none of them speak Kottermani but she had taken special pains to remind them of their fate should they try anything.

  Prince Durzu lingered near them and she caught him gazing at her figure-hugging dress several times. Perfect. She tossed her hair at him.

  “You must be shocked to see your brother like this. I am sorry we had to meet under these circumstances,” she said gently.

  His eyes flicked across to Kemal’s litter and she saw a sudden hunger in there.

  “If anything was to happen to him, who would be the next in line to the throne?” she asked innocently.

  Durzu turned back to her. “That would be me,” he said.

  “Oh, I hope it does not fall to you like this,” Dina said, her voice throbbing with sympathy. Durzu looked like a perfect candidate but she would need to keep an eye on him before making a final decision. This was not
to be rushed. After all, she had thought Fallon could be used. It wouldn’t do to make such a mistake twice.

  “What has really happened in Gaelland then?” Durzu asked.

  “What have you heard?” she replied swiftly. “I thought nobody else could have made it through those winter storms.”

  “Prince Kemal’s wife Feray returned perhaps a moon ago, bearing strange tales. She insisted that Prince Kemal sat on the throne of Gaelland but needed an army to help secure the country from the evil you were creating.”

  Dina made herself look shocked, although it was not all acting. “Oh, I fear for the future of both our countries if she is believed. We shall all be in grave danger.”

  “So the truth is different?”

  “Most different,” she said heavily, then sighed. “But I say too much. This is for the ears of the Emperor alone. Will Feray be at our audience?”

  “I am sure of it,” he replied.

  “I am looking forward to it,” she said, which was only half a lie.

  *

  “Highness, the Emperor himself requires your presence, and that of your sons.”

  “Thank you, Ely,” Feray said. The girl was not the perfect servant but having her around allowed the boys to keep working on their Gaelish. They were going to need all the mastery of that language if they were going to get Kemal out safely.

  The past moon had been both relaxing and frustrating. Their home was more than comfortable but seemed empty without Kemal there. All they could do was wait for the winter storms to blow themselves out in Gaelland. Now and again the Emperor wanted them to attend some meaningless meeting but, other than that, the only other thing of interest was trying to avoid Durzu.

  “What is it this time—did they say?” she asked.

  Ely did not reply and she turned on the girl. “Well, speak!”

  “A party of Gaelish has arrived, Highness,” Ely replied softly.

  Feray felt fear close its icy grip around her heart. How in Aroaril’s name had they made it across the sea? Then she pushed that aside. All that mattered was they were here. If it was to negotiate for Kemal’s life, then things were about to get far more complicated. Suddenly boring did not seem so bad.

  “Who?” she demanded.

  “I do not know, Highness,” Ely said softly.

  Feray suppressed the urge to shout. “Get the boys dressed, then send a message to Gokmen,” she ordered.

  She saw the fear in Ely’s eyes and shook her head irritably. “It is nothing to do with you, nor your mother or sister. It is about our survival. Now move!”

  Ely scuttled off and Feray grabbed a piece of parchment and scratched out a quick message. If all else failed, she would stall for time and then set sail back for Gaelland with just her crew. They would be loyal to her and, while she did not know how she could free Kemal with just a handful of men, it was better than falling into Durzu’s clutches. Besides, there was more than a thousand Kottermani soldiers being held captive somewhere. As long as she was free, there was still hope.

  She finished the message and looked at herself carefully in the mirror. She just had to keep her head and she might still come out of this. The Emperor was going to be more inclined to believe her than some strange bunch of Gaelish. Just lie and deny and everything could be fine.

  Her sons hurried in, dressed formally and she banished all worry to paint a smile on her face.

  “Come, we must not keep your buyukbaba, the Emperor, waiting,” she said briskly, handing the parchment to Ely at the same time. “Make sure it gets here, and then hurry back here and pack. Warm clothes only, as if we were going to Gaelland,” she instructed.

  Ely nodded and hurried off, then Feray took her sons’ hands. “Be brave,” she said to no one in particular.

  *

  “You may not enter here until you have proved yourselves,” Durzu said, halting them all before a magnificent building.

  Dina could tell it was a church to Aroaril but nothing like the brooding stone squares that served as places of worship in Gaelland. This had a soaring dome and fine chased stonework all around. It was the sort of place she would like to have as a palace. After the cold of the pass across the Spine, she was enjoying the heat of Adana and even the smells were more pleasant than most of the stenches that infested Gaelish towns.

  A senior priest of Aroaril, presumably their equivalent of an Archbishop, judging by his golden robe, brandished a golden sunburst at them—the symbol of Aroaril.

  “You must embrace our holiest symbol and swear your loyalty to Aroaril. And if you fail to do so, God’s vengeance will be the least of your worries,” Durzu said casually.

  Dina glanced around at the massed guards and made herself smile. “Of course. But perhaps your Archbishop could bless it himself, so there can be no doubt how holy it is.”

  Durzu nodded and had a rapid-fire conversation with the Archbishop, who responded by holding up the sunburst, his voice booming out in what had to be a prayer. He sounded almost like Kynan, the former Archbishop now languishing in Meinster, except for the language barrier.

  The Archbishop held the sunburst out towards them and Dina accepted it eagerly, although her hands were itching at the thought of what might happen. She could not suppress a gasp of relief when it did nothing to her and she smiled at Durzu hastily.

  “It is surprisingly heavy,” she said, then closed her eyes and muttered what would sound like a genuine prayer, although it did not follow anything she had ever said in church before. You never knew, after all. Then on impulse she quickly kissed the sunburst and handed it on to Swane.

  She gave both Durzu and the Archbishop a dazzling smile as Swane muttered his own version of a prayer, before it went around the small group of Gaelish. Kane was the last to hold it and he walked forward to hand it back to the Archbishop, who buffed it with his sleeve, as if the Gaelish had dirtied it. They had, but not in the way the old fool thought, she reflected.

  The Archbishop and Durzu had a hurried conversation and then Durzu nodded.

  “You have proved yourselves. You cannot have worshipped Zorva and also held that relic as well,” Durzu said. “Enter, and greet your Emperor.”

  Again, Dina was the first to cross the threshold, her body braced for something horrible to happen—but nothing did. She smiled and led the way into the cool gloom of the huge church. It was a relief to get out of the sun but not as much of a relief as knowing that Aroaril had no power here and they were safe. She could feel hundreds of eyes on them as they strode through the soaring room and she reveled in it.

  Then there was an explosion of sound from one side of the room and she glanced over to see a well-dressed woman stride forwards, shouting in Kottermani.

  *

  Feray joined the throng of courtiers and nobles and satraps hurrying to obey the Emperor’s summons and join him inside the church, but she made sure she lingered behind. She wanted her first sight of the Gaelish to come before anyone else. There were several ways out of the church and she also wanted to be sure she knew where they were.

  “Stay close to me. If I say run, follow me instantly. Do not ask questions,” she told Asil and Orhan.

  They looked shocked and troubled but, after all they had been through, they merely nodded. She squeezed their hands, wishing she could do more to tell them how much she loved them and how proud she was.

  She made a point of speaking to a number of clerks to see which ships were provisioned and ready for the long sail back to Gaelland and where they were berthed. The clerks were delighted to receive such attention from a future Empress, but she stopped the conversation instantly and pushed through them when she saw the light-skinned Gaelish walk into the church.

  They were led by a woman, and for a moment she was afraid it was Bridgit, with Fallon right behind—but then she saw it was Dina and Swane. She did not know the Duchess well but she could never forget Swane from that horrible time when she had been strapped to an altar and expected to see her sons sacrificed to Z
orva.

  “Stop them! They are Zorva-worshippers! Protect the Emperor!” she screamed, pointing at the group of Gaelish.

  The guards that lined the long path to the altar reacted instantly to the phrase that had been drummed into them from the moment they had taken their oaths. Swords hissed out of scabbards and they instantly blocked the way, advancing on the Gaelish.

  “Kill them quick!” Feray bellowed.

  She was not even thinking about the need to protect her lies from the Emperor, just to destroy these Zorva-lovers.

  “Stop! They are under my protection!” Durzu jumped in front of the Gaelish and the guards instantly checked.

  Feray pushed her way through the guards to face Durzu. “Don’t be a fool, these Gaelish have used dark magic to get here—there is no other way to get across the ocean. They worship Zorva and will destroy us all,” she cried.

  Durzu held up his hands as the guards tightened their grips on their swords.

  “They have just passed a test set by the Hierarch himself,” Durzu snapped. “They have held Aroaril’s Crown, our holiest relic. And they stand in Adana’s greatest church, all without the slightest discomfort. How can they be Zorva-worshippers?”

  “Perhaps their dark powers protect them. Or perhaps because we have turned the church into a throne room, and there is no power here. But I saw them. They have been sacrificing children. Their hands are covered in blood. We have to destroy them now!” Feray insisted.

  Durzu shook his head. “Powerful words, wife to my brother,” he said. “I might be more inclined to believe them if you had not already lied to us in this very church.”

  “What do you mean?” she asked indignantly. “These Zorva-worshippers have addled your mind and clouded your eyes!”

  “Really? So is that not your husband, my brother, Prince Kemal, lying in that litter, brought here by the Gaelish you say are evil?” Durzu challenged.

  The Gaelish parted before her, revealing a dozen slaves who carried a comfortable litter. A familiar face was lying upon it and she gave a wordless cry of shock and horror. She would have rushed forwards but Durzu caught her wrist.