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

by Duncan Lay

  “But at what cost? Don’t you need more blood for Zorva’s power?” Durzu asked.

  “Exactly,” she agreed. “And we shall use those nobles and your brothers.”

  Durzu’s face betrayed his shock, then revealed his excitement at the thought.

  “Yes. They are the only ones who could challenge you,” she said. “Without their guards, they are helpless before us. The Emperor can call for their deaths for treason, disloyalty, or whatever you want it to be. If he is appearing to make the decisions then it does not come back to you and when we are ready to remove him, there will be nobody left to argue. When we return from Gaelland, you can select your own men to the top positions, bind them to you with rewards and threats,” Dina continued.

  Durzu’s face turned thoughtful. “You know much about manipulating men,” he said carefully.

  She kept her smile warm, and decided that Durzu had to die soon. Swane was a much easier puppet to use.

  “I am merely an observer,” she said brightly. “The Gaelish court provided ample opportunity to see what men were prepared to do for power. I helped my husband as best I could and then, when he was lost, I tried to help Prince Swane, as I now try to help you. I do not want power for myself, but I am happy to help others achieve their dreams.”

  She stared deeply into his eyes until he nodded and looked back towards Swane.

  “And once we have reached Gaelland. What then? How do we finish this Fallon and take the country? Do we land at Berry and crush him utterly, then wait for the rest of the country to surrender?”

  Dina saw Swane glance at her and nodded fractionally to him. They had discussed this many times. It was something they had both dreamed of—how best to exact revenge on Fallon.

  “We shall sail into Berry and crush him,” Swane said confidently. “It is what your brother tried, but this time not only do we have ten times the soldiers, we also have men undermining Fallon from within. His army will be like a rotten branch, ready to snap.”

  “You seem very sure of yourself,” Durzu said.

  Dina leaned forwards slightly. “We are still in contact with the Prince’s men in Berry and the other county towns. It will happen as we said. Any who try to stop us will be taken back to Kotterman as slaves and we shall rule in your name, as part of the Empire. You shall be the most powerful man in the world and, when your rule is secured, it will be time to look over the seas for new conquests.”

  “And your people will really turn on their savior, in exchange for yourself, after they cheered as your father was executed?” Durzu asked doubtfully.

  “They are already doing so. They are sheep and easily led.”

  Durzu looked down at the map of Gaelland and smiled viciously. “Then you shall have your revenge on Fallon.”

  “But he must be taken alive,” Swane said swiftly. “I do not want him dead, not until he is begging for it.”

  “He and my brother can suffer and die together. The Lord Zorva will enjoy taking their souls, I think,” Durzu said with relish.

  “He can enjoy Kemal’s soul. I want Fallon’s soul for my own,” Swane whispered.

  CHAPTER 49

  Fallon inspected the bedraggled crowd of prisoners with satisfaction. His men had rounded up several dozen rumor-mongers and malcontents. The rumors had to be coming from somewhere. Just one of them could lead him to Munro’s men and then up the chain, all the way to Swane and Kemal.

  “Absolutely not,” Rosaleen said crisply.

  Fallon’s satisfaction disappeared faster than warm air in winter. “I’ve barely told you what I want!” he protested.

  “I know what you want. For me to look through the minds of every fool you have slung into the dungeons and find if any of them are working for Swane. I cannot do it.”

  “Can’t, or won’t?” Fallon asked. “If just one of them is Swane’s creature, we can use it to find the rest of the nest and stamp them out.”

  “Both,” she said. “I’ll turn half of them into drooling idiots. I cannot have that on my conscience. And it will never end. You will want to bring me more every day. I already have more duties than turns in the hourglass each day.”

  “And what of a Kottermani invasion? Could you have that on your conscience?” he growled.

  She folded her arms. “Bring me Munro, or one of his men and I will help you then,” she offered.

  Fallon shook his head in disgust. “I won’t know if I have one of his men without you,” he said sourly.

  “Nevertheless,” she said, her tone implying this topic of conversation was over. “Now, have you thought about allowing Gallagher to return to the Ruling Council?”

  “Is he still obsessed with Aroaril?” Fallon asked sourly.

  Rosaleen grimaced. “He is. And that is why I want you to help him. I have tried to talk to him but he will not let go of this idea we are all part of Aroaril’s plan, that it was destined and he is now being rewarded for his belief. He thinks that if he stops believing so hard then something will happen to me. He needs his friends to help him, for he is as lost now as he was before I met him.”

  “He’s far worse company now though,” Fallon muttered.

  “He is your friend and I thought you would care about him,” Rosaleen said sharply.

  Fallon rubbed his face wearily. “Send him along tomorrow,” he said. “I’ll see what I can do. After all, it’s not like I have anything else to worry about.”

  “Take care of your friends and everything else will come together,” Rosaleen said.

  “Is that your next sermon?” Fallon asked sarcastically.

  “I would have thought, after all you had been through, you would understand the value of having friends you can trust by your side,” she said tartly.

  Fallon rubbed his temples. It felt like there was a hammer beating in there. He needed to rest, to forget about all these endless problems. When Kerrin started sharing their room the nightmares had returned. Only now they were not of a burning Berry, but a dying Cavan.

  “Why can’t you do something about Gallagher?” he asked. “He would do anything for you. If you turned him away, forced him to realize what a fool he is being, it would be much quicker and simpler than us trying to convince him.”

  “I have tried to talk to him. But how can I set him aside? The Archbishop discarding her husband for being too pious? How would that look?”

  “Well, how about a ban on the bedchamber? That might bring him around faster,” Fallon suggested, with a slight cough.

  “First of all, he says everything is Aroaril’s plan and so nothing can be changed. Secondly, it is harder to refuse him than you might think.”

  “I think I could say no,” Fallon muttered, but his heart was not in discussing much more of this with the Archbishop. “I guess it is all down to me then.”

  CHAPTER 50

  Fallon smiled as he inspected the careful marks that Bridgit’s team had made on the map of the city, the results of sorting through all the tips from the informers. All around him men were pulling on mail coats and tightening belts and straps, getting ready for the raid.

  “Brendan, I want you to sweep through this area. Devlin, you take this quarter and Gall, you ride with me,” he said. “Grab anyone who looks suspicious and we shall sort them out back here. And if you think you’ve got Munro, drop everything and get him back here. There’s a score of promising places where he could be hiding. Hit them hard and fast and show no mercy.”

  They strode out, Fallon feeling more confident than he had in almost a moon thanks to the maps pointing out where Munro might be hiding. But there was a new concern. The horses, taken after the battle of Lake Caragh, were getting thin. Fodder was low and the constant work of carrying men in armour was exhausting them.

  “We need to give them a rest,” Brendan said, stroking the nose of one.

  “Maybe you should ride in a cart then, so your fat arse doesn’t break their backs,” Devlin chuckled.

  A few others also laughed but when Bren
dan turned slowly, the laughs died instantly.

  “We have to keep using the horses. They give us an advantage of speed and height,” Fallon said. “But after today we shall use less mounted patrols, give them a chance to rest.”

  The thought of walking the streets from now on dampened them and the icy rain misting the air and finding its way down backs and into boots did not help.

  “You do know that most of these sightings are now days old, if not half a moon old. Munro has probably moved on,” Padraig said.

  “Shouldn’t you be somewhere warm, annoying someone else?” Fallon asked sourly.

  “But I enjoy irritating you more than anyone else. The others in the castle treat me almost like someone important.”

  Fallon grunted and turned to where Brendan rode alongside him, hammer over his shoulder.

  “Rosaleen has asked us to try and help Gallagher,” he said.

  Brendan patted his hammer. “You want me to knock some sense into him?”

  “Tempting,” Fallon admitted. “We need to talk to him, try to get him to realize that all his preaching has gone too far.”

  “That will go well,” Brendan observed sourly. “I don’t know what he is doing with Rosaleen anyway. She just wants to interfere all the time. She cornered me the other day, wanted to talk about the sanctity of life and the power of mercy and all that rubbish. Nola probably put her up to it.”

  Fallon wiped a trickle of rain out of his eye. “What did you tell her?” he asked, lowering his voice.

  Brendan snorted. “It’s too late for me. I know what I have become. Nola and I sleep in different rooms now.”

  “Surely she is worth giving up your hammer for,” Fallon said.

  The big smith sighed gustily. “Aye, she is. But I cannot leave her unprotected again. I know what is coming for us in the spring and my hammer might make the difference between victory and defeat. I know what I can do to the bastard Kottermanis and how the men take heart from that. I swore an oath to keep her safe and I shall keep that, even if it means I lose her along the way.”

  “Nothing is worth seeing you lose Nola,” Fallon said. “Take your family and get away from here. This bloody city is dragging us all down. Find somewhere you can start again.”

  Brendan laughed harshly. “It is too late for that,” he said. “I told you, I know what I am. I enjoy hurting people too much now. I am not the man she married and she does not want me. Moving somewhere else will not change that.”

  Fallon fell silent, glancing over at Padraig, who shrugged. “You always lose people in a war. Sometimes you lose yourself,” the wizard said softly.

  Fallon glanced over at Brendan but the smith had let his head drop forwards and did not look like he wanted to keep talking. He sighed and let his horse ease back a little, until he was riding alongside Gallagher.

  Fallon tugged the collar of his cloak higher in a vain attempt to stop the icy trickle of water down his back. And he knew it was going to take all night to get the rust out of his mail. “Rosaleen is worried about you. I am worried about you,” he said.

  “I don’t know why. I have never been better,” the fisherman replied calmly.

  “Really? You preach more than the old Archbishop, and we all know what a fake he was.”

  “Are you suggesting my religion is somehow false?” Gallagher demanded.

  Fallon sighed. “No. Poor choice of words there. I mean, you spent years hating Aroaril—”

  “And now I have been shown the error of my ways. I found Rosaleen and now I have been blessed!”

  “Will you listen to yourself?” Fallon interrupted. “Our lives are not ruled by God. We have the power to choose. You need to choose to be yourself again. Because the Kottermanis are coming and I need you.”

  Gallagher sat up in the saddle. “You have nothing to worry about. I have prayed to Aroaril to protect us from the threat of Kottermani invasion and He has promised me it will never happen.”

  “Have you gone mad?” Fallon stared at him. “Nothing is going to stop the Kottermanis from coming except swords, spears and steel!”

  “Doubt all you want. I know the truth now,” Gallagher declared.

  “You have gone mad. Wake up before it is too late! Act like that and you’ll get yourself killed in battle!” Fallon cried, his voice getting louder all the time.

  Gallagher shook his head. “Doubt all you want. I shall be proved right and on that day I shall accept your apology.”

  He turned his horse around and began going back towards the castle.

  “And where are you going?”

  “Somewhere I shall be appreciated. Until you let Aroaril into your hearts, you will not make the right choices,” Gallagher said over his shoulder.

  Fallon thought about going after him. But only for a heartbeat.

  “Bran, you will take Gallagher’s men,” he ordered sharply. “I want to see those cells filled to bursting with Munro’s men by the time this day has finished!”

  CHAPTER 51

  “Maybe you need to take over running the city, Bridgit,” Nola said.

  Bridgit stopped pouring out the tea, because otherwise she would have spilled it. She took a breath before resuming. She and her friends had discovered the Kottermani delicacy of tea since living in the castle, because it had certainly never been available for ordinary people. All the other luxuries from the castle larders had gone into the warehouses to be shared out—but not this. Mainly because nobody else wanted it. The nobles and some of the richer merchants drank it but the nobles had all deserted the city and she was damned if she was going to share anything with those rich merchant bastards. It was their one treat and they enjoyed the time it gave them in the late afternoon. Of late the enjoyment had been palled by the quality of the conversation. Nola was heartbroken at what had happened to Brendan, while Riona was less helpful and far more irritating than she had been in Kotterman. Still, they were her friends and she would not give up on them.

  Bridgit handed out the tea cups, congratulating herself on not spilling any of the precious liquid after Nola’s outrageous statement.

  “I think she is right, you need to run the Council,” Riona said.

  This time there was no saving the cup, which hit the floor and shattered, sending tea all over the flagstones.

  “I wish you’d wait until they were on the table before you say your jokes,” Bridgit grumbled, carefully clearing away the pottery shards and eyeing the lost drink sadly.

  “I am not joking,” Riona said.

  “And I never joke. Especially about something like that,” Nola added. “We can all see that the boys are struggling. Gallagher has his head in the clouds, Devlin thinks he can’t be serious about anything again, while Brendan—” she paused and took a gulping breath before continuing. “And Fallon doesn’t care what he breaks or who he hurts as he chases ghosts around the city. Face it, we three did a far better job of taking care of people in Kotterman than the boys can do now. We would back you and if there was any trouble, we could get Gannon and his men to stand behind you.”

  “I am not going to fight against Fallon and the others!” Bridgit cried. “Are you mad?”

  “Like it or not, we have been fighting with them for the past few meetings. The Ruling Council? Everyone can see it is your way or Fallon’s way, with the rest of us supporting one side or the other,” Nola said with a shrug.

  “We need to work together more, not think how we can divide ourselves,” Bridgit insisted.

  Riona opened her mouth to speak but shut it swiftly as someone thumped on the door.

  “Who is it?” Bridgit called, her heart beating fast, which is silly really, because I have done nothing wrong, she told herself.

  “It is Jason. My lady, I need your orders,” came the reply.

  Bridgit looked at her friends suspiciously. Most of the Lunstermen had gone back to their town under Gannon’s command, to keep an eye on Dina’s former stronghold and also train more men for Fallon’s new army. A score
had stayed behind under the command of Jason, another Lunster sergeant and Gannon’s second.

  “What have you done?” she whispered.

  They both shrugged, professing innocence. Bridgit sighed and opened the door to reveal the sergeant. He was nowhere near as tall as Gannon but he had a broad, trustworthy face and a solid look of dependability, although his face was now twisted with worry.

  “I am sorry to disturb you, my lady,” Jason said apologetically, “but we have a problem in the dungeons. The cells we have are already full and now scores more men are turning up, being dragged off the streets. We can’t fit them in and it looks like it’s turning into a riot, for some of the ones who have been there the longest are threatening to kill anyone else put in their cell. Unless we do something, it will be a bloodbath.”

  Bridgit sighed again. “I suppose you have sent a runner to Fallon?”

  “I have sent two, my lady. Neither have returned. We don’t have time for more, because we are struggling to keep things in hand now.”

  “Right. Lead on,” she said immediately. “Come on, ladies. I might need the advice that you tell me is so valuable.”

  *

  The situation was even worse than Jason had said, or perhaps it had just got worse since he left. Men sitting in lines shouted for help, or protested, while guards roared at them and shoved them down if they tried to get up. Meanwhile those already in the cells hammered at the bars and bellowed threats. It stank, a cloying stench of human waste and sweat that brought the gorge up into Bridgit’s throat.

  “We could bring some of them into the castle,” Riona suggested, shouting to be heard over the bedlam.

  Bridgit remembered how Keverne had got out and tried to kill them and suppressed a shudder. “No,” she said. “That is not an answer. Jason, how long have some of these men been here?”