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

by Duncan Lay

  “Now you say it!” she said.

  “I am sorry. You deserve better.”

  “Now that’s enough!” she said, squeezing him suddenly, making him open his eyes. “You have done your best, in a world gone mad. And there is still the chance that all will end happily.”

  He forced a smile to his face. “That is right,” he agreed. “All I need to do is put two quarrels into a target, something I have done a thousand times before.”

  “Kerrin is sleeping in his own bed again tonight,” she said. “You are coming back with me.”

  He kissed her, unable to say anything.

  “Just stay alive. Do that for me,” she begged.

  “Anything you ask,” he said, wishing he could believe in it.

  *

  “Kottermani scouts are here!”

  The thumping on the door woke Fallon from a dream where he was being chased through the castle by the men he had led to their deaths, as well as a sorrowful Cavan. He sat up and rubbed sleep from his eyes, wishing he felt more ready for this, that he had another ten thousand men, that he was still home in bed in Baltimore and his biggest problem was getting Sean and Seamus to stop drinking. He swung his legs out of the bed and Bridgit grabbed his arm.

  “You don’t have to do this. There is still time for us to run,” she said.

  He blinked his eyes clear. It was strange but it felt as though she was almost talking to herself as much to him. He was sorely tempted, then the dream returned to him and he shivered. He knew he could never be free of his guilt unless he did this.

  He rolled back and embraced her. “I swore I would keep you safe and so I will,” he said. “And this is the only way.”

  She hugged him tight. “Aye. You are right. This is the only way,” she agreed.

  The sadness in her voice struck him to the quick. There was only one way forward now.

  “We shall see each other again. It will only be a few days,” he said briskly. After all, that might even be true.

  “Fallon!”

  The hammering at the door got louder and he kissed her. “We’ll get you away now, before those bastards get close enough to see you,” he said. “Are you all ready?”

  “As we can be,” Bridgit said, her voice muffled.

  He could see she was crying but they had said all they could last night. Now it was up to luck, skill and maybe Aroaril as to what happened next.

  CHAPTER 72

  “Take care of your mother, and the new baby. Remember the good things I taught you, and not the swearwords,” Fallon said awkwardly. What could you say to your son at a time like this?

  The ships were already being towed out of the harbor and towards the open sea. Only Bridgit’s remained. This was Baltimore’s ship and Fallon could see so many familiar faces, from Gallagher to Rosaleen and Riona.

  Devlin was sitting down on the dock, his head buried in his hands, seemingly unable to even watch. Likewise, Nola and her daughters had gone from the ship’s rail after a teary farewell to Brendan. Fallon had half-hoped his big friend would break down too and agree to leave but he had merely hugged his wife and kids and then picked up his hammer again.

  “I should be with you, Dad,” Kerrin said, his voice muffled from where he was pressed into Fallon’s chest.

  Fallon lifted his son’s head. “That you cannot do,” he said gently. “Son, you are the best part of me. If I do nothing else good in my time on this earth, you are worth it alone. Knowing you and your mam and the baby will live long and happy lives is what keeps me going.”

  Kerrin hugged him harder and he held his son back, feeling the muscles that had not been there last summer. “I am sorry for dragging you through this but I can only do this knowing it is keeping you safe.”

  “I will save you, Dad. I will,” Kerrin promised.

  “No, you will keep your mam safe,” Fallon told him.

  “No, I can do both,” Kerrin insisted, then Bridgit gently pulled him back.

  “Take Caley on board,” she said. While Kerrin talked to the dog, Fallon faced her.

  “Well,” he said.

  “Well yourself,” she replied.

  He found there was nothing more to say. They had said so much last night. The time for words was done. It was too late. Instead he held her, trying to drink her in, feeling much as he had done when she had arrived back from Kotterman.

  “I shall see you again. Stay alive!” she whispered in his ear, and then she was gone, turning away and hurrying Kerrin off.

  “But, Mam, Caley won’t move!” Kerrin protested.

  The dog sat resolutely.

  “Go on,” Fallon commanded but when she stood, it was just to move behind him, and sit back down again.

  “No, you fool. There will be no food and playing this time,” Fallon told her, but she just looked up at him.

  “She has to stay with you, Dad. She will keep you safe. I told her so,” Kerrin declared.

  Fallon picked the dog up, intending to deliver her onto the ship, but Kerrin held up his hands.

  “No! You can’t, Dad! Without her, you won’t live!” he cried, his face panic-stricken.

  Fallon glanced over at Bridgit and she nodded imperceptibly. He put Caley down and then watched Kerrin and Bridgit hurry up the gangplank. Immediately it was thrown back onto the jetty and the rowboats began to move it away from the docks.

  Friends waved down from the deck but Brendan and Fallon did not wave back. It was all Fallon could do not to lose control. It felt like his heart was sailing away. Devlin got up and joined them and he squeezed his friend’s shoulder.

  “They will be safe. That is what matters,” Fallon said hoarsely.

  “Yes, they will,” Padraig said from behind him.

  Fallon spun. ‘What are you doing here, you old idiot?” he growled. “I thought you were looking after Bridgit and Kerrin?”

  “They can look after themselves. You are the one who needs me,” the old wizard said with a half-smile.

  Fallon put his hand on Padraig’s shoulder. “You know what we risk?”

  “Things are more likely to have a happy ending with me here,” Padraig said. His eyes looked clear and steady and he appeared to be a man at peace with himself. Which was more than Fallon could say. “Now are you going to stand here moping or do we get it done?”

  Fallon smiled. “I am glad to see you, old man, and to have you with me.”

  Padraig sighed. “Are we going to sit around, have a hug and good cry, or are we going to do this thing?”

  Brendan agreed hoisting his hammer over his shoulder. “Aye. I really feel like killing some Kottermanis.”

  “But first let’s kill the bastards who started this all,” Fallon said, and his grief was replaced by a cold anger.

  CHAPTER 73

  By the time they got to the wall, there was a ring of Kottermani scouts around the city. Any thoughts of trying to get away were now gone. Most of the remaining townsfolk were locked in their houses, knowing that trouble was looming, but a few hundred brave or foolhardy souls had crept onto the wall—keeping well away from Fallon’s men around the South Gate—to watch what was happening.

  Of the three hundred-odd men who had volunteered to stay back to see Swane killed by a poisoned quarrel, nearly half were on the wall here. Another fifty were at the castle, while the rest were lining the route back, just in case one of Munro’s men tried to block their escape with a burning wagon or something else.

  Fallon made a point of clasping hands with every man. “No matter what happens, know you are the bravest of the brave. Aroaril will welcome you and children will sing your name for what you do today,” he told them, time after time. Finally he made his way to the actual gatehouse, merely a raised battlement over the gates.

  “Are you ready?” Brendan asked as he got there.

  Fallon stretched his shoulders. “Those metal quarrels are not the same, that is for sure. But I have the hang of them now. The range is reduced, because the string cannot generate eno
ugh power. Still, they fly true. You did a fine job, my friend.”

  He gestured down to where Devlin sat below a merlon, three loaded crossbows beside him.

  “They will think I am going to use the big bows, so they won’t expect anything smaller. And they will also think their magic can protect them. They won’t expect this.”

  The Kottermani army was flooding forwards now, regiments moving smoothly out to either side to form a huge mass pointed right at Berry.

  “There was no way we could have stood against so many,” Bran said softly, watching the perfect lines engulf the city.

  “Just three hundred against a whole army. That could be quite a tale. It will be a legend, one day,” Fallon said, offering them the ghost of a smile.

  “If I can sing it, I will be a happy man,” Devlin announced.

  “If it’s you singing it, none of the rest of us will be,” Padraig said with a wink.

  Fallon looked up at the sky. He had half-expected hail, or at least rain. But it was one of those rare spring Gaelish days where the sun was out and the sky blue. There was little warmth in it, but it was better than what they had fought in before. And at least there would be no danger of the crossbows misfiring on such a day. It felt like time had slowed and every sense was heightened. Every breath was impossibly sweet, even the birds circling gently overhead looked beautiful. He stared at them. What were they doing up there? He looked around to ask Padraig but the wizard had wandered further down the wall.

  “Here they come,” Brendan said grimly.

  Fallon stopped looking at the birds and focused on the Kottermani regiment marching straight up the road at the gate. Already they were only about a hundred paces away.

  “That’s close enough,” he said and signalled down to where Bran stood beside a pair of wall-mounted crossbows.

  Bran waved back and an instant later the crossbows rocked back on their makeshift supports, sending double-sized quarrels out to slam into the ground beside the road, sinking half their length into the frozen earth.

  The message was unmistakable, a warning rather than an attack, but Fallon worried that the Kottermanis would just keep coming, forcing them to retreat to the castle and try again. After all, there had been no talking before Lake Caragh, Swane had just sent in his men. But, to his relief, the regiment slowed to a stop. They formed perfect ranks but, from on the wall, Fallon could see messengers running back towards the main mass of the Kottermanis.

  “They do want to talk. Thank Aroaril for that,” he said.

  “I just hope He looks as favorably on our plan to use poison to kill Swane and Dina at a parley,” Brendan rumbled.

  Fallon wiped sweaty hands on his trews and adjusted the belt on his mail shirt, so the weight did not sit so heavily on his shoulders.

  “Over there!” Bran called from down the wall.

  A small party of mounted officers skirted the motionless regiment and rode towards the walls, their hands out to show they meant no harm. Fallon spotted a Gaelishman in the middle of them, a man with a slightly familiar face, but he could not place the name. He was the one to hail them.

  “Fallon!” he shouted.

  “Well, he knows me at least,” Fallon muttered.

  “What do you want? And why do you come here with an invading army?” he shouted back, mainly for the benefit of the people listening further down the wall.

  “I am Captain Kane, the emissary of King Swane and the Emperor of Kotterman, who is here to put an end to your crimes and return the throne to its rightful owner!”

  “Here to put up altars to Zorva and sacrifice children!” Fallon roared back. He glanced at his friends. “Do you remember a Kane? Wasn’t he some captain of a minor noble’s guards?”

  “Means nothing to me. He’s probably the last one they have left,” Brendan muttered.

  “You are commanded to open the gates and surrender now. You will receive a fair trial for your crimes and your men can expect to merely be sent into slavery. Open the gates and nobody need get hurt.”

  “I will only open the gates to Swane and Dina,” Fallon bellowed back, “not to their lackey.”

  Kane rode a few paces closer. “Don’t be a fool. I have more than enough men to kill you all,” he shouted. “And hundreds of innocents could die in the fighting. Do you want that on your conscience?”

  Fallon leaned over the wall. “I have more than enough men to slaughter yours,” he fired back. “If you want to save lives, then bring up your so-called King. I will only open the gates to him. Or is he too much of a coward to talk to me? Is he too sunk into evil that ordinary people dare not look at his face?”

  Kane stared at him for a long time before turning his horse and signalling to his companions, riding away without another word.

  “Do you think he bought it?” Devlin asked.

  “We’ll know soon enough. If that regiment starts running, we’ll give them a volley and then get back to the castle as fast as we can,” Fallon said. He was trying to look calm, although inside his stomach was churning and his heart pounding. Should they have just tried this at the castle? But that would have yielded the city to the Kottermanis and they would have nothing to negotiate with. He leaned on the crumbling merlon and tried not to tap his fingers nervously.

  Kane and the other officers rode past the regiment—and kept going.

  “They might have a trap for us as well,” Brendan said.

  “Thank you, my friend. I was far too calm as it was,” Fallon said sourly.

  *

  “It’s a trap,” Dina said instantly. “He has something planned. Those crossbows on the wall must be part of it.”

  “He cannot harm me,” Swane said confidently. “If they try to turn those on us, I shall destroy them. All will see my power and none will dare to stand against me again.”

  “It is still too much of a risk. We should send columns to the east and north gates and surround him. We don’t have to play his games.”

  Swane smiled. “And yet I do. The challenge has been laid and the people must see how I respond. My father would never let this stand.”

  “Then you can go alone. I will have no part of this,” Dina said.

  He turned to her and she had to force herself not to take a step back at the look in his eyes. She had despised him many times but this was the first time she genuinely feared him.

  “You will be beside me. We shall face Fallon’s ridiculous trap and destroy it, then him. We will show we are not afraid of anything but that this country should be afraid of us.” He leaned in close and whispered in her ear and it took all of her self-control not to avert her head. “And it will also send a message to our allies, so when the Emperor announces me as his heir, nobody will question me.”

  Dina merely nodded. There was nothing else she could do. If Durzu heard these words then things could fall apart quickly. Swane was out of her control now, and that was dangerous indeed.

  *

  “Here they come!” Fallon pushed himself up from the merlon and pointed to where a new party of riders was making their way towards the wall.

  “They have fallen for it, the arrogant bastards. They must think we are idiots and they can outwit us,” Brendan snorted.

  “Well, we are desperate,” Fallon pointed out. But, behind the wall, he was stretching his fingers and warming up his arm and shoulder.

  “Dev, get the poison ready,” he said softly.

  The farmer carefully poured the thick liquid onto the heads of the three crossbows, laying them gently down, pointing away from everyone. Fallon felt a fierce satisfaction at the thought of sending that poison back down at them.

  “This is for our children. For all we have gone through,” Brendan said. “This is for us, Fallon.”

  Fallon ignored him. He was slowly blocking everything else out, concentrating on the shot he had to make. Kane had ridden to within thirty paces, a ridiculously short range usually. Yet there had never been as much riding on one shot. He calmed the frantic though
ts in his mind and breathed slowly through his nose, getting himself under control. Even a faster heartbeat could spoil everything, for he needed to loose in the space between letting out one breath and taking another.

  The little party came into focus and he studied each one. There was Kane and a pair of guards, each carrying a large shield, as well as the wizard Finbar, the traitorous Duchess Dina and Swane himself. He watched them ride closer, willing them to keep coming. Unlike before, they stopped some fifty yards away. Still an easy shot, but not quite the certainty from before. No matter, he told himself. His whole life had been in preparation for this moment. Padraig rejoined him.

  “Fallon! King Swane is here. Now open the gates, fall on your knees before him and you shall have a quick death!” Kane thundered.

  Padraig nodded and Fallon shouted, his voice booming magically across the wall. “And what happens to the people of Berry? And of Gaelland? Will they be forced to bow to Zorva, to hand over their children for blood sacrifice? Tell me King Swane. Let us hear it from your mouth, not from your tame lackey.”

  “Gaelland is not your business. It is mine!” Swane barked, his voice also magically louder. “I am here to rescue these people from you and your band of traitors.”

  “You are here to enslave them!”

  Swane pointed up at the wall. “I am not here to bandy words with a traitor. Either open the gates or prepare to be destroyed.”

  Fallon waved, and noted how the little party tensed, as if they were expecting an attack. But, instead, his men began to open the huge wooden gates. As he had expected, they instinctively looked there, no doubt wondering if something was coming out of the gate, or if this was indeed a surrender.

  Fallon held out his hand and Devlin slapped the butt of the first crossbow into his palm, as they had practiced a score of times the day before.

  The familiar feeling of the polished wood calmed Fallon even further and he whipped it up into his shoulder, sighting down at the group, centering in on Swane. The foul Prince looked up at that moment and Fallon breathed out and began to squeeze the trigger. As soon as the quarrel kicked away, he cursed himself. He had loosed Brendan’s metal quarrels time and again in the castle garden but while standing on the ground. He had never aimed them downwards. The heavier quarrel dropped far faster than a normal one would through the air and it also wobbled in the air. Over thirty yards it would not have mattered but the extra twenty yards made all the difference. He had aimed at the center of Swane’s chest and now it looked as though it would hit his belly. That would still be enough to kill him, even before the poison did its work, but then Swane pulled on his reins, trying to turn the horse, and its head came up—right at the wrong moment for Fallon. Instead of plunging into Swane, it smashed into the horse’s skull, killing it instantly.