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

by Duncan Lay

  *

  “We suffered heavily today. A regiment either dead or maimed. Against a tiny force,” Durzu said in disgust.

  Swane spread his hands. “Perfect. It is what we needed. A treacherous attack by a group of rebels in the castle itself. Almost all of the nobility, along with beloved Prince Kemal, were slain. A heartbroken Emperor names you as his heir then succumbs to a Gaelish illness, made worse by his grief for his son. You return to Kotterman with a perfect story, a new piece of the Empire, leaving me just a few regiments to keep our foot on the throats of Gaelland, and we both live happily ever after. Enough died that none back in Kotterman can question the intensity of the fighting.”

  Durzu chuckled. “I like your fortune-telling abilities! You were right that Fallon was going to try something, but it seemed a pretty disappointing plan. Lure you in and kill you? What did he really hope to achieve?”

  “My death. That is all he wants,” Swane said, struggling to control the anger that coursed through him. “That is all he has ever wanted.”

  “But surely there had to be more behind it than that?” Durzu persisted.

  “Who cares? He failed and all that remains is to show the treacherous curs in Berry that they must never dare rise again. They will fear me and realize the price of defiance is more than they are willing to pay.”

  “Fear you?” Durzu asked, but Swane could hear an edge in his voice.

  “I shall rule here in your name,” he said.

  “Just you? Not Dina? You will not reconsider and heal her? She has provided much help to your cause.”

  Swane felt a new pulse of anger at Durzu and Dina. He knew she had bedded the Kottermani Prince. He had even read her disloyal thoughts, since Zorva provided him with much more than just raw power. He had wanted to cut himself free of her some time ago but she was still a fire in his brain. Every time he made up his mind to step away, she drew him back with a word or a gesture. It disgusted him how much she could control him. She was lover and mother and the lines became more blurred with every passing day. It had been a relief when she’d been attacked. Having her face ripped away had broken the spell she had over him.

  “We do not need her,” he said dismissively.

  He watched Durzu carefully and the Kottermani merely shrugged and moved on.

  “How do I reward the men who fought today? And how do we secure the city?” he asked.

  “Give them a night in the city. There will be food, drink and women out there somewhere. Let them have what they want. Tomorrow we can bring in fresh regiments. Then we can start going through the city and teaching the people a lesson they will never forget. They can all watch Fallon die slowly.”

  “And his men? And my brother?”

  “They can all die on my altar,” Swane said softly, relishing the prospect. And you will die with them too. Then it shall all be mine.

  *

  “You tortured me and threatened my wife and children,” Kemal said.

  Fallon wondered if sending Kemal into his cell was Swane’s idea of a joke.

  “Yes, I did. And I would do it again to get my wife back,” he said, meeting Kemal’s eyes.

  The Prince had definitely suffered since they had last met. His skin was sallow, he had lost weight and his eyes were deeply shadowed.

  “I thought you were the embodiment of evil and all I dreamed about was revenge on you. Probably why Durzu thought he would throw me in here with you.”

  “Well, looks like all your dreams have come true,” Fallon said levelly.

  Kemal sighed. “It goes to show how you can be wrong. I cannot forgive you for what you did to me, but you were a man trying to save his wife. Mine is a prisoner of my brother and Swane and there is nothing I would not do to get her back, nor no limit to the revenge I seek on those evil bastards.”

  “How nice. We have something in common,” Fallon said dryly.

  “Here. Let me help you.” Kemal’s hands were tied but nowhere near as tightly and he was able to pick up the cup of water, which he offered to Fallon.

  Fallon sat there, too shocked to respond.

  “Do you want to drink?” Kemal invited.

  “I thought you’d only want to poison me,” Fallon said, drinking deeply. The water felt like nectar going down his throat.

  Kemal put the cup down carefully. “Much has changed since we last talked,” he said.

  Fallon looked around the cell and laughed bitterly as Kemal sighed. “I think we can agree we both made mistakes. We are going to pay for it with our lives and we can only pray to Aroaril that our families do not join us.”

  That stopped Fallon’s laugh instantly. He had been trying not to think of what Bridgit and Kerrin were up to and if Swane was going to be content with his death alone. He hoped so but he dared not ask, for Swane would only try harder to find them.

  “I thought you were with Swane,” he said. “Has he betrayed you? Does this mean he is now the Emperor of Kotterman as well?”

  Kemal slumped back against the wall. “I was never with Swane. I was captured by him and forced to watch as he slaughtered children. Now he has my father in thrall and my ambitious younger brother thinks he can use him to get the throne.”

  “And all he will get is his heart ripped out and given to Zorva?”

  “You have it,” Kemal agreed. “Soon Swane will be ruler of the mightiest Empire the world has ever seen and who knows what he will do after that?”

  “Well, I don’t think we need to worry about it, do we? It’s not like we are going to be alive to see it,” Fallon said sourly.

  “So you are just going to let him rule your people?”

  “They chose him over me,” he said. “They had a chance to stand with me and they turned their backs.”

  “They will be regretting that soon enough,” Kemal said.

  “I’m sure we’ll find that very comforting,” Fallon grunted. “So, are we going to sit here and plan our escape and revenge on Swane?”

  “We can try, at least,” Kemal offered.

  Fallon thought about that for a few moments. He knew the cell bars were solid and the guards outside outnumbered his men two to one. Still, it might do to pass the time.

  “You have a chance, you know,” he said. “Your wife is a very smart woman and there’s no give in her, while your sons are fine lads. If Swane turns his back on them, they’ll be away. And no doubt she has friends in the Empire.”

  “She does,” Kemal agreed. “And I know only too well that Bridgit will not be easy for Swane to find. She looks harmless enough but she’s always thinking.”

  “That she is,” Fallon agreed. He leaned against the wall. “Do we rush them when they bring the water? Grab a knife and cut our bonds and then free the others?”

  Kemal edged closer to the bars and looked out.

  “I can see maybe a company of guards,” he reported. “And they don’t look like they plan to go to sleep.” He looked out the other way and cursed in Kottermani.

  “What?” Fallon asked.

  “My father’s guards. Three of them. They are more of the men we lent to King Aidan.”

  Fallon snorted in disgust. He remembered only too well how hard those Snatchers had been to kill.

  “Looks like Swane doesn’t want us getting out of here until he is good and ready,” he said.

  CHAPTER 77

  Swane inspected the room full of men—and one woman—with ill-disguised anger.

  “So where are the rest of Fallon’s friends? We have killed or captured a few hundred, but thousands fought against me at Lake Caragh. Where are they? Where are their families?”

  “They sailed away, sire. We could not find out where,” Munro said, bowing hastily. He was still bruised and his hands were almost useless, but he, along with a score of others, had been freed from the cells when they’d been cleared for Fallon and his surviving men.

  Swane exhaled. “Wherever they go, they will find Kottermani ships waiting. But they will not be allowed to escape. I h
ave suffered and so everyone must suffer more.”

  “I shall send out word. As soon as they land, you shall know, sire,” Munro promised.

  Swane smiled with satisfaction. “Your service to the crown will be remembered,” he said. “In a city ruled by traitorous scum, you have stood strong and helped restore me to the throne. Now is the chance for our revenge. Every person who tried to betray you, every one of them who ignored you or said that Fallon was the future. I want them punished.” He clenched his fists, raising them to the roof. “I will give every one of you a squad of Kottermanis. You point out the scum and they will give them a beating they will never forget, then take them into slavery. Assemble our new slaves at the warehouses. Use the ones that were holding the food. The food you can bring here to me. All of it. Only those who serve me will eat. The rest can starve. And, when you return, it will be to all the gold you can carry.”

  “Sire, what if we are not sure if someone supported Fallon or was just afraid to stand against him?” the woman asked.

  Swane raised his fist again. “It is all the same to me,” he snarled. “They allowed my father to be killed and that bastard Fallon to sit on my throne for moons. They need to be taught a lesson. Go out there and give it to them.”

  He turned to Durzu and the Prince stepped forwards. “There are squads of my men assembled in the courtyard. They do not speak Gaelish but they know to obey you. Merely point them where to go and single out the ones you want punished. They will do the rest.”

  Swane watched Munro’s men hurry out and smiled thinly at Durzu.

  “Now for the next ones. Follow me.”

  “Next ones?” Durzu growled. “I thought we were going to discuss the ceremony where my father anoints me as his heir and announces you will rule Gaelland in his stead?”

  “All in good time. We have to set events in motion first. Give your men time to digest the news of the death of so many nobles in that battle in the castle,” Swane said, patting Durzu on the shoulder. “Trust me. I have taken you from disgraced younger brother to the brink of the Emperor’s throne. Let me finish the job properly.”

  He steered Durzu down a castle corridor, to where a score of the city’s most prosperous merchants waited. Swane knew most of them by sight, if not by name, and could not help but notice most seemed much thinner than when he had last seen them. They all bowed floridly as soon as they entered.

  “Sire, it is good to see you back. You do not know what a trial it has been living here without a proper ruler,” one announced.

  Durzu stood stiffly by the door but Swane did not stop, instead walking right up to the merchant. He backhanded him across the face, sending him stumbling into his fellows.

  “You complain to me of difficulties?” he hissed. “You grew fat off my father’s table and then, when he needed you, you abandoned him! You helped the traitor Fallon and did nothing to save my father!”

  “Sire, there was nothing we could do! Fallon had thousands of men—” another merchant stuttered, as the first regained his feet, a livid red mark on his face.

  “Silence! I do not want to hear excuses. I want a thousand gold pieces from every one of you. I don’t care where you get it, or how you do it. You will pay, one way or another. Get me the money or die with Fallon in front of a crowd. Now get out of my sight before I decide to make an example of you.”

  Durzu had to stand aside as the merchants flooded for the door. “That is a lot of gold,” the Kottermani said. “What do you intend to do with it?”

  Swane laughed lightly. “Well, half will go to you, as a down payment on a tribute. Slaves and gold, as I promised. Now, shall we go and discuss how the Emperor will announce you as his heir and me as Gaelland’s ruler? Just as I promised?”

  Durzu smiled and nodded and Swane held out his arm, indicating the way to go. Truly, this was a good day.

  *

  Dina looked at herself in the mirror and could not stop a tear squeezing out. Her face was covered with hideous, weeping wounds. The Kottermanis had cleaned her wounds, stitched them up, and given her a mouthful of poppy juice, which had taken away the pain. But nothing could help the emptiness inside. She had been on the cusp of victory. Durzu would have killed Swane and then left her to rule Gaelland. All she had to do was watch Fallon die, then Swane die, and then enjoy the spoils of all her hard work. Except it was snatched away from her by some filthy animal and Swane, the ungrateful bastard. He could have healed her! She had seen how his face had changed through magic. These few wounds should have been nothing to him.

  It was all Swane’s fault. If only he had done what he was supposed to. And if only the Kottermanis had checked that cursed chair! She did not blame herself. After all, she had waited a long time for revenge on Fallon. No, it was men who had done this to her. But she was not finished yet.

  Shouts and screams from outside on the street interrupted her brooding and she turned from the mirror to the window. Something was happening out there but she could not see what. Not knowing what was going on had always infuriated her and this was particularly annoying, given she should have known everything that was happening in Berry.

  She grabbed a bell and rang it. She had taken two of Kane’s surviving guards, not caring whether Swane would approve or not. There were many people who still owed her favors and she would see them called in, once she had recovered. Maybe she could not use her face to sway men but gold could work just as well.

  “Find out what is happening,” she ordered the guards when they finally arrived. Talking was still very painful and her voice was slurred, although whether from the drink they had given her or the wounds to her cheek, she did not know or care.

  The pair of them sauntered away and she nearly ground her teeth in anger, although that would have just hurt her face. They would treat her with the proper respect when they were paid, she told herself. They were not long away though, which soothed her raw anger.

  “Kottermanis are rounding up people. Munro’s men are with them and they are dragging men and women out of houses and beating anyone who tries to stop them,” they reported.

  Dina slammed her hand on the table. This was exactly what she had feared! Swane had forgotten their plan for winning the people over and gone straight to retribution. If only she was there. She stood and hurried downstairs, not bothering to explain her actions to the guards or waiting to see if they would follow.

  Half the street was deathly quiet as people cowered in their homes, while the other half was chaos as men and women shouted and screamed as their husbands or wives were dragged out into the street and beaten by hard-faced Kottermani soldiers, who then tied their hands and fastened them with a rope around their neck to a line of similarly bruised men and women. Screaming children were thrown into the gutter by soldiers, while any adults who tried to stop their loved ones being taken away were left bleeding in the street by a succession of blows and kicks.

  “This is the fate for all those who defied Prince Swane! You are all traitors and you must beg for his mercy!” the Gaelishman leading the Kottermanis shouted.

  Dina hurried over. “What are you doing?” she demanded.

  She died a little inside when the Gaelishman turned to face her and shrank from her, face creasing in revulsion.

  “Who are you to defy King Swane?” he snarled. “What disease do you have?”

  She drew herself up. “I am the Duchess Dina and you will treat me with respect!” she trumpeted.

  He spat at her feet. “You are a hideous old crone and I shall give you ten heartbeats to get out of here before you suffer the same fate as the other traitors. The Kottermanis want slaves and they might even take one as ugly as you.”

  She drew outraged breath to scream at him but the eager look on the faces of the closest Kottermanis changed her mind. Instead she fled for the sanctuary of her townhouse, bolting the door behind her. Swane was on his own. If he did not want her help then he could shrivel up and die for all she cared. Although, actually, it would be good
if he could do that.

  *

  Men were hard at work in the square outside the castle. Wood was sawed and hammered and a large stage was being built against the castle wall, while bales of cloth were arriving on wagons and being piled haphazardly beside it to cover the raw wood in something prettier. It would contrast with the cobbles, which were stained with blood from the vicious little fight at the gate.

  Durzu inspected progress with a broad smile on his face. It was crude compared to what would have been done in Kotterman but all could see that something important was going on. And that was all that mattered. All his dreams were coming true. His father, the Emperor, just had to anoint him as the successor and everything was complete. He had used that Gaelish fool, Swane, to get him this far. Now it was time for Swane to die. His usefulness was over and he was too dangerous to have around. No, far better to kill him and then force his wizards to manipulate the Emperor. Then, in a few days, the Emperor could be quietly killed. He would leave one of his friends in charge of Gaelland, with five regiments to keep the peace, while he went back to Kotterman to enjoy real civilization—and some warmer weather. The sun was out but there was no heat in it here.

  He shivered and it made him think of Swane. The way he had cast aside Dina had been the final proof Swane planned to betray him. But soon he would be dead and that would be an end to the troubles on this pathetic little island. He turned—to see Swane come storming towards him, a furious look on his face.

  “Your men are refusing to obey orders!” Swane snarled. “I want them killed for that!”

  He growled as Durzu took his arm and hustled him further into the square, away from the teams of workmen, but Durzu ignored his tantrum. He was bigger and stronger than the Gaelishman and he only stopped walking when they were out of immediate earshot.

  “Do not talk to me like that in front of your people,” he hissed. “Do you forget our places?”

  Swane tore his arm free. “I forget nothing,” he said. “But you promised your men would obey me as I secured this city. They are refusing and I want them dead for it.”