by Duncan Lay
“I thought it was Munro!” Fallon said defensively, heading over to the fire. It had taken many turns of the hourglass to sort out the mess in the streets and now he was freezing. “You weren’t there. I had no choice.”
“Of course you did! You could have sent someone to cut him off, or done something differently, anything but wreck half the city and nearly kill a dozen people!”
He spun around from the fire. “Oh, so it’s all right for you to make an instant decision to let our prisoners go but not for me to chase the bastard who tried to kill us?”
“That is different,” she said. “I had a choice, either kill innocent men or let them go. Letting those fools go was the easy choice. If you were thinking, you wouldn’t make these bad decisions.”
He sucked in a deep breath. “So you think you can make better decisions than me? Have you been talking with Nola and the others about taking over the Ruling Council?”
He stared intently at her and was horrified to see the flash of shock on her face.
“You have, haven’t you!” he accused.
She hesitated for just a heartbeat and he knew it was true.
“Nola raised it with me. But I never agreed to do anything,” she said firmly. “I told them I could never work against you. You know that is true.”
Fallon sat down, barely hearing her words. He had turned his back on his ambitions for her, sacrificed his plans to make her happy and now she was second-guessing him all the time and questioning his judgment. This was not the Bridgit he knew and loved. It had to be the baby. People said pregnant women were driven a little mad by bearing a young one.
“The baby is doing something to you,” he said sadly.
*
Bridgit rubbed her eyes. Fallon was right about one thing. She felt queasy and hungry both at the same time, while her head was hammering. She kicked herself for letting her guard down for a moment. Still, maybe this was a shock he needed, to make him wake up to what he was doing. He had to think before acting now. Aroaril knew she had to weigh things up these days. Especially as her emotions were all mixed up. One moment she felt on top of the world, the next like crying. She knew it was just the baby changing things for her but it was still hard to keep focused when you felt like screaming one moment, laughing the next.
“Forget about the baby. You sound like a small child,” she told her husband. “You need to wake up and realize that everyone is doing the best they can. We all want the same thing. Nobody is trying to replace you, least of all me. Yet you seem to want to be both Lord and Protector of Gaelland.”
He stood up. “Tell me honestly. Do you think I am worthy?”
“Well, you are certainly not worthy right now. You are being foolish. Do you truly believe that I would seek to replace you?”
She searched his face and could see a mixture of hurt and anger.
“I don’t want to believe it,” he said. “But it’s like you don’t trust me. I know how to protect you. I need to have the freedom to do that. I can save this country, if you just get behind me.”
“I thought we worked together,” she said quietly.
“And we do. But in this case I know best.”
“You know best? I’ve been cleaning up all the messes you leave behind!”
“You don’t understand—”
“That’s right, Lord Protector, I don’t. I don’t understand how you can act like such an idiot!”
“I don’t have to listen to this,” Fallon growled and stormed towards the door. “I’ll be back when you have calmed down and taken your brain back from the baby.”
“I have baby brain? Well, you have hay for brains and you’d be better off sleeping in the stables!”
He walked away, his back stiff with outrage, and he did not see the tears falling down her face. She slumped onto the bed. Where was the old Fallon, who could listen and hear the things left unspoken?
CHAPTER 56
The body went over the side with a splash and Dina signalled for Kemal and the other slaves to wash the blood off the deck. They had to be careful. Durzu’s other two brothers were dead, the nobles were confined to their cabins, and Durzu had a circle of cronies who had been seduced by a combination of Zorva and promises of gold and land but the days still began and ended with a prayer to Aroaril and there were plenty of Kottermanis who believed they were fighting for Aroaril. It would not do to let them know there was blood sacrifice going on every night. Just to be safe, they were sending one noble a night to Zorva, so that the next day could be smooth sailing. Controlling an area big enough for the fleet was difficult but Swane’s powers were growing with each heart he took and dedicated to the Dark God, and so far only one ship had been lost through bad weather, caught by a freak wave that had wrecked its masts and forced it to turn back for Kotterman. Two more had been slightly damaged in night-time collisions but they had not dared to let the fleet spread out any more in case they were lost in storms. Maintaining the fine weather over such a large area was difficult enough as it was. It meant they could not spare any magic to use to speed up the journey but that was acceptable, because every day gave them more opportunity to increase their hold over the Kottermanis. The Emperor and the Hierarch did their bidding, Durzu announced the orders and nobody realized they were part of an army of Zorva.
Dina liked the progress they were making and the news from Gaelland was encouraging. Finbar was sending magicked birds to Munro and passing on her instructions—as well as receiving word that the country was not happy about Fallon’s rule. All seemed well, but she was not as happy about Swane. The endless sacrifice was affecting him, changing him, and that was concerning. The surge of power that accompanied each heart offered to Zorva was making him immune to her charms. She had to rack her brain for ever more exotic ways to interest him in the bedchamber. Worse still, he was talking more about his plans for the future and how he wanted to rule the world. Ambition was all very well but she liked obedience more. Perhaps it was time to look again at other options.
*
Kemal helped scrub the last of the blood off the deck and led his gang of slaves back down below. They did not have cabins, just a stinking part of the hold, which even the rats avoided. Stinking bilge water sloshed around their ankles if they did not keep to one end, where a platform for cargo sat. At first he had found the smell incredible but his nose had given up the unequal fight and he no longer noticed it. This deep in the ship, the nights were freezing and the slaves had to huddle together for warmth. Sleep was difficult and, to stop himself going mad in the dark, Kemal made them talk to him. At first they had been reluctant, for he was a former Crown Prince and they but slaves. Yet, as the days passed, they talked more and he learned about where they had come from, their old lives and what it was like to be a slave. He knew about the last part by now, of course. The work was hard, the food was poor and he was wracked with fear for Feray and his sons, as well as horror over the endless blood sacrifice. But, strangely, the night-time talks made him feel better about some of the choices he had made. He’d been tormented by thoughts he had been weak in giving in to Fallon. Yet he had given in to Swane and Dina twice now, first to save Gaelish children and now to save slaves. And he did not regret that. His dignity was not worth anyone’s life. A few moons ago he would never have thought that but these journeys were changing him. Perhaps for the better.
The creak of the hatch above stopped his musings, made them all look up. The rest of the slaves scattered, jumping down into the filthy bilge water as soon as they saw who was looking in on them.
“So what brings you to my comfortable cabin?” Kemal asked.
“What? Can’t I visit my own brother?” Durzu asked innocently, squatting down and holding a perfumed handkerchief over his nose.
Kemal scratched his unshaven chin. “You would not visit this place unless you had a compelling purpose,” he said thoughtfully. “Durzu, you are here because you know what you are doing is wrong. Do you want to be responsible for turning the w
hole world to Zorva, seeing bloody altars built in every city for children to be sacrificed? You have killed our brothers and now slaughter men we have known all our lives, loyal servants of our father. Do they deserve that fate?”
Durzu spread his hands. “I cannot act now,” he said. “We need their blood power to make it across the sea safely. Besides, where you see loyal servants, I see men who have always put their own power and profit first and who would seize the Elephant Throne if they got the chance. This will ensure the Empire will be strong, once we have cleaned out all the deadwood.”
“But afterwards. You have to see they will use you and then kill you,” Kemal said.
Durzu chuckled. “After all I have done to you, you are actually advising me. In your place I would be cheering on anyone who would kill my tormentor.”
“That is where we are different,” Kemal said. “I have learned that there are darker things in this world and that the enemy of my enemy is not always my friend.”
“Very deep,” Durzu applauded. “I shall try to remember that one.” He stood up. “Thank you for the talk, brother, I have to admit, I enjoy seeing you like this. The favored Kemal, the golden child, now a filthy servant. It’s worth keeping you alive for.”
“Listen to me,” Kemal cried. “Have men ready to kill those Gaelish the moment we sight land. Give me a knife and I will do the job myself.”
“Give you a knife? Now that is one thing I shall not do,” Durzu said instantly. “But it has been a pleasure talking to you. I shall use those Gaelish until I stand all-powerful, then I shall dispose of them.”
Kemal slumped back, frustrated, as his brother dropped the hatch back down, plunging them into gloom. Slowly the other slaves joined him, but he was hardly aware of them.
Kemal sighed. To think he had the chance to end all this and he had thrown it away. Feray had been right and he wished with all his heart he could tell her so. He knew she would fight to save their sons but surely that was hopeless. He would have to resign himself to only seeing them again in another life.
*
“I still need you to help me,” Feray said.
“What do you want me to do?” Ely asked nervously.
“I know that I said you were free and you could do what you wanted but I am asking you, for the sake of my children, to help me when we reach Gaelland,” Feray continued.
Their ship had become an accepted part of the invasion fleet, unchallenged by the others and protected by the evil magic of the Gaelish when the storms rolled across the sky. That was another successful step in her crazy plan to free Kemal, but the next step was what to do when they reached Gaelland.
“We have to find out where my husband’s men are being kept. Only then do we have a chance of freeing them. I have money but I need someone who speaks good Gaelish and doesn’t look like they just left Adana to do the asking. I know it is a risk. And I know that you must have little love for my husband, after what he made you do. But, if you can help us, I would be even more grateful than I am now.”
She looked into the girl’s eyes, knowing she had no right to ask this but having no choice. Even knowing where the prisoners were held was just another step in a hugely improbable chain of events. Then she had to free them, arm them and—somehow—use them to free Kemal before the Zorva-worshippers sacrificed him. Chances were something would go wrong and they would all die. But, until then, she would keep fighting.
“I will help you,” Ely said. “But I cannot promise they will talk to me. I have never been in Gaelland and I must sound more Kottermani than Gaelish.”
“We can fix that,” her mother said, in Gaelish.
Feray glanced at her and saw the remains of beauty, as well as a familiar look. It was that of a woman who was prepared to do anything to keep her children alive and she felt an instant connection with her.
“Aroaril willing, you will have the grateful thanks of the Emperor,” Feray said. She felt a powerful need to go and hug her sons.
Her mother sniffed. “I cannot see us living that long.”
“Then why did you come with us?”
“I lost all hope many years ago. But, Aroaril willing, I shall see my home again before I die. What else do we have to look forward to?”
Feray looked her in the eye. “Follow me and you shall find out,” she said.
CHAPTER 57
Bridgit woke up right after dawn. She rubbed sleep out of her eyes and saw Kerrin doing a series of push-ups. She yawned. She had not slept well because Fallon had not come to bed that night.
“You shouldn’t do those on the cold stone floor. You will catch your death,” she said without thinking, then bit her lip.
“I’ve been doing these for moons now and I am fine,” Kerrin replied, between pushing himself up.
Bridgit lay in the warm bed for a little longer, preparing herself for the cold. Old habits died hard and she wrapped a robe around herself and then stirred up the fire, getting it going again.
“When you have finished, we shall go and get some breakfast,” she said, watching Kerrin stretching and marveling that this was the same son she had sat with, night after night, listening to him cough.
He pulled a face at that.
“I know it is the same oat porridge that everyone else has to eat but we might be able to find one slice of bacon, eh?” she said with a smile. “What were your plans today?”
“I usually help the recruits, or train with the guards, maybe see what Dad is up to,” Kerrin said casually.
Bridgit felt a sudden pang that she did not know what he did every day. How could she have let that happen? He was growing up so fast. Once she would have known everything he did but now she seemed to know more about what was happening in Meinster than what her beloved son was doing.
“Then today we shall do something different. Spend the day together, like the old times.”
“All right,” he said, without any great enthusiasm, which was a knife to the heart. It was like Fallon had stolen him away. She pushed that thought away. He will come back to me—they will both come back, she told herself.
The castle was quiet that early in the morning. Without the old routines of farming and fishing, many of the families from Baltimore had taken to sleeping late, for the lack of food discouraged most of them from much activity and the cold discouraged the rest.
“What do you want to do today?” Bridgit asked.
Kerrin only thought for a moment before replying. “Can we go and see the new recruits? I want to know what they’re doing.”
“Go out in the snow to watch people hitting each other? Really?” she asked, disappointed. “Would you rather not spend the day finding books to read?”
“Maybe afterwards,” Kerrin said.
She sighed. “Right. Well, breakfast first.”
They wandered into the kitchens to see a servant working on the porridge, a huge cauldron full that would feed everyone in the castle. The woman had a friendly face and Bridgit smiled at her.
“Smells good,” Bridgit said absently as she looked around. She had not been down here since their big feast. “Come on Kerrin, let’s find some bacon,” she said.
But he had stopped.
“Who is she?” he asked softly. “Mam, I’ve never seen her before and I don’t think we’re using servants anymore. And what is she putting in the porridge? That’s not a honey jar she’s waving over the top.”
Bridgit looked at him blankly for a moment, then her brain woke up properly.
“I’m sure it’s nothing,” she said softly. “But stay behind me.” She turned to the woman. “What’s your name? I don’t think I’ve seen you before,” she said casually.
“This is my first day here,” the servant said warmly, turning and busying herself at the bench. “I’m Jen.”
Bridgit glanced over towards the kitchen door. It was a few paces away. That was the smart move. Get Kerrin to safety and then come back with some guards.
“Well, I hope you enjoy it here,�
� she said, edging towards the door.
Then Jen spun, a knife in her hand, and hurled it at her.
Bridgit instinctively ducked but Kerrin had grabbed a chopping board and lifted it up, using it as a shield. The knife thumped into it, then Kerrin hauled the knife out and brandished it.
“Get behind me, Mam,” he said urgently.
She had no intention of doing that, especially as Jen was advancing on them. “Guards! Guards!” Bridgit screamed.
“Come and get us,” Kerrin invited. “I’ve been training for moons to kill you!”
Bridgit was horrified at that but the woman must have decided that staying any longer was too risky. Instead she raced out of the kitchen, going towards the castle garden.
“After her!” Kerrin cried.
But Bridgit had his tunic in her hand. “Not you, my lad,” she said firmly. “Quick, this way.”
They raced off to the guard room by the keep’s main door, where a handful of men were ready and waiting, led by Jason.
“Jason! Thank Aroaril! Sound the alarm!” Bridgit shouted.
Instantly he grabbed a large bell and began to ring it, while two of his men hauled the big doors shut, slamming the locking bar into place.
“Now, follow me—there’s a woman out there who tried to kill us. We have to catch her,” she said loudly, over the sound of the bell. She turned back towards the kitchen but he did not move.
“What are you waiting for?” she demanded.
“I cannot leave my post without Captain Fallon’s orders. He was most definite about it,” he said uncomfortably. “If I do so, he will dismiss me.”
“Jason, a woman called Jen tried to kill us in the kitchens and she is getting away while we waste time here!”
Jason snapped his fingers at two of his men and they raced off. “We’ll get more guards and I’ll warn Captain Fallon,” he said. “The gates are all sealed, she can’t get away.”
Bridgit swore. “Do you really think she was planning to walk out the gates?” she asked bitterly. “She will be long gone. Keep looking and I’ll go and tell the Lord Protector myself.”
