by Duncan Lay
Fallon let the last woman step off the platform then nodded to Brendan, signaling for him to drag Aidan to his feet.
“For years he has stolen your money and punished you for no reason. Now he wants you to worship Zorva and give your blood as well as your silver to make him rich and powerful. What say you? Will you give him your children to be killed?”
“No!” they screamed back at him.
“He killed his own cousin, the Duke of Lunster, when he too rejected Zorva!”
That provoked a smaller response from the crowd but an enormous one from Aidan. Dina, meanwhile, covered her face with her hands and staggered back off the stage.
Fallon glanced down at Aidan and the King’s eyes were bulging madly. He pulled the gag clear of Aidan’s mouth.
“I never touched Kinnard!” the King snarled.
“Why should I believe a liar?” Fallon asked.
“You have no right to do this. I will make you suffer!”
Fallon had seen Aidan at his most reasonable and that King might have cast enough doubt among the crowd to make things difficult. After all, they had known nothing else and many would still feel an allegiance to the King. The only person who could break that was Aidan himself and the King had worked himself up into one of his furies. Perfect. Fallon raised his right arm. Instantly the King’s voice boomed out over the square. At first he raged at Fallon then, when he realized all were hearing him, turned to address the crowd.
“You think you have the right to judge me? I am appointed by the gods! Aroaril gave me the right to rule and Zorva has given me the strength to do so! What are you against that? You are ants, worth nothing! Your lives are mine to take, for you belong to me! The only way you can save yourselves is if you bring me the heads of Fallon and all who support him. Then throw yourselves down at my feet and beg forgiveness and I might not kill you all!”
The crowd drew back in the face of his anger.
“I own you, all of you and I will do with you as you wish. Now I command you to rise up and free me and any that do not will beg for death by the time I finish with you! How dare you oppose me?”
The angry mutterings started then.
“I am your King and I am ordering you to free me or so help me, I will see every one of your heads decorate the walls of this city! I will make you watch me rip out the hearts of your children and you will learn your folly then! I am your King, given to you by the gods! You are nothing! Free me now or the country will shudder to hear what I have done to you!”
Fallon dropped his right arm. He had heard enough and he could see the crowd had too. Mothers were covering their children’s ears, while fathers were shouting back at Aidan. He reached into his pouch and brought out the bloody quarrel, the one that had taken Cavan’s life.
Aidan stopped ranting at the crowd, his voice now washed away in the anger that was coming back from the people.
“What are you doing?” he snarled at Fallon, his voice harsh and hoarse.
For answer Fallon grabbed the King by his shoulder and rammed the rusting point of the bloody quarrel deep into the King’s side, punching the heavy point through skin and muscle and into the organs beyond. Blood sprayed over his hand and the King gave out a terrible, high scream that silenced the crowd.
Fallon felt the quarrel sink in until his fist was pressing against the King’s side. He twisted the bolt viciously, sawing it back and forth, making blood splash out, while Aidan shook and shrieked. Fallon ripped the quarrel out and the King’s legs seemed to lose strength and he sagged against Fallon.
But Fallon pushed Aidan away, hatred for the King washing away any disgust he felt for what he was doing.
The King, screeching in pain, staggered around the platform, head thrown back against the agony.
The crowd was silent, watching him with a mixture of horror and delight and satisfaction.
He almost made it to the edge of the platform but his legs gave way and he fell to the ground, shaking and scrabbling.
Brendan started forwards but Fallon held out a bloodstained hand.
“Let him die hard. He has made the rest of us suffer for long enough,” he said harshly.
Seeing Aidan’s twitches and moans growing weaker did not diminish his anger and hatred. The King had infected the whole land with his evil and while killing him was long overdue, it was not the end of things.
The King’s back arched and he screamed once more, then fell still. Fallon walked to his side, dropping to one knee. Aidan’s eyes snapped open and he focused on Fallon.
“You will never rule this land. Your choices will fail and fall and doom my kingdom,” he said, clearly and distinctly, his words just carrying to Fallon’s ears. Then a huge pulse of blood spilled out of his mouth and he choked for a moment, then was truly still.
“Did he say something?” Brendan asked.
Fallon shook his head, feeling shaken by the King’s words. He had heard that dying men had the strength to see the future and just enough power to share it with others. But whether that was another tale, like stories of selkies, or the truth, was another matter. He knew Aidan was full of hate to the last and maybe that was all his words were. But he still felt a shiver up his spine.
“What do we do with him now?” Brendan asked.
“We string him up here, so all can see him and know he is dead. That way word can spread to the other nobles. I am sure they have people watching us within this crowd. Then we throw him on the pyre with the others. Cavan will be buried with honor, in the castle.”
*
Fallon washed the King’s blood off his hands and ripped off his bloodied tunic as well. The King’s execution had taken the crowd’s anger but they had all wanted to press in and see the body. Fallon thought he would feel better after Aidan’s death but the King’s words stayed with him. Not just the last one but also the comment about the Duke’s death. Why deny it, when he had been entirely shameless about everything else?
He decided it was worth asking a few more questions about. He had never been happy with the idea of Hagen as a traitor. Dina had satisfied Rosaleen she was telling the truth but maybe they were asking the wrong questions. She was doing and saying all the right things but he could not shake a nagging suspicion about her. He went straight to Gallagher.
“Gall, I want you to take a few men and Rosaleen and head down to Lunster. Dig around Hagen’s home, find his neighbors and see what you can turn up.”
“Isn’t that going to be a waste of time?” Gallagher asked. “I know he was your friend but Hagen’s been dead for moons. And many of the people living around there now will be ones who arrived from Berry. They won’t even know who he is.”
“No,” Fallon said. “This is where it all started. In Lunster. I am sure there is something of import down there. The King admitted to worshipping Zorva but not killing the Duke. Why?”
“But why do I go down there with Rosaleen? Isn’t she the Archbishop now and needed here?” Gallagher objected.
“I thought you would like to spend some time alone with her,” Fallon said with a wink.
Gallagher flushed a little. “That wasn’t what I meant!” he said heatedly.
Fallon patted him on the shoulder. “I know. But you will need her, for she can discern the truth. And Aroaril knows it’s been bloody hard to get at that since the day the Duke’s ship sailed into our lives. And I need you to help me persuade her to do this.”
Gallagher nodded. “Then I will do it.”
“Good. We’ll say that you are helping her investigate the church and speak to the priests still loyal to Aroaril. I’ll give you the Crown Prince’s seal. In Lunster it would command even more weight. And the Prince had a sack of gold in his room for some reason. There should be more than enough to buy a fishing boat big enough to get you down there and give you enough gold to get a few tongues flapping.”
“When you say it like that, it almost sounds as though it could work,” Gallagher said lightly.
*
> “Is it done?” Feray asked softly as he visited them. He had installed her and her boys in Prince Cavan’s old rooms. They were both comfortable and safe and he could think of nowhere else he could call that.
Fallon nodded. “I thought I would feel happier but I just want a long bath.”
“You might have done better to hand him over to us. We could have made his life a misery,” Feray said bitterly. “If Kemal knew he wanted to sacrifice us to Zorva, he would make Aidan suffer. Why did you have to be the one who killed him?”
“Who else would do it? One of the parents of the children he murdered might have agreed, or Brendan or Gallagher or Devlin. But then I would have been a coward for walking away and letting others do what I feared to.”
“You have no courts to do that?”
“And do you have courts that would go after your Emperor?” Fallon retorted.
She smiled. “Of course not. That was a foolish statement. Anyway, it is a relief to know he is gone. What is your plan now? Will you seek to use us hostages against my husband?”
“I swore on Kerrin’s life I would return you in exchange for my family,” he said.
“So why are you here?”
“To ask if Kerrin can wait with you until this afternoon. We have much to discuss about holding on to the parts of Gaelland we control, let alone the areas still under control of the nobles.”
She glanced over her shoulder to where the three boys were playing a dice game together and laughing. “Of course. But do not trust the nobility. They will say one thing to your face and another behind your back. Remember, they have been playing this game against Aidan for years. You will need to be ruthless with them.”
*
Fallon thought about her words as he joined Duchess Dina, along with Brendan, Devlin, Padraig and Gannon and a host of scribes in the King’s old rooms. He decided to keep Gallagher and Rosaleen’s mission a secret for now. Dina was doing everything she could to help but he didn’t know how she would react to news he was investigating Hagen’s death. He would watch her carefully.
The King’s old room was completely different. All the furniture was gone, replaced with the Duchess’s, and the wall hangings and the rugs had changed too. The hidden door at the back of the room was in plain sight, although obviously barred shut from the inside. It even smelled differently. The Duchess Dina looked completely at home there. In fact, had Fallon not known its history, he would have sworn these were her rooms from the start.
“It was a brave thing you did, Fallon. But it was the right thing. Now, thank Aroaril, we are free and the people are out of the nightmare. The crowd shows no signs of reducing at the gates. As some people leave for their homes or work, others are arriving. It is achieving all we hoped for. Soon all of Berry will know the King is dead, killed for his crimes, and that better rulers are in his place.”
“What next?” Fallon asked the moment she paused for breath.
She nodded significantly towards a group of servants, who bustled in bringing trays of drinks and food, which they set down on the table. They were all looking much happier than the servants Fallon used to see around the castle.
“We have checked out most of them now,” she explained when she saw him examining the attendants. “Any who had missing children or other family members have been sent away with a payment, just in case. The rest have all sworn in church to serve us faithfully. Thank you.” She smiled at them and they left the room.
“Still,” she continued, “we should be careful what we eat and certainly should not talk about important matters in front of them. It would not do for the wrong word to reach the wrong ear.”
“What now?” Fallon persisted.
“At least four of the minor nobles have sent me discreet offers to help, in exchange for keeping their positions and their lands. I think we need to make the same offer to all of them.”
“Help? How would they help?” Fallon asked.
“Food,” Dina said simply. “That is the thing we shall need most, with winter approaching. Berry depends on its tithe from the counties. If all that food stops arriving by wagon and ship, we shall have a hungry city before long. And, with winter on the way, that is not a good place to be. We can control the surrounding countryside but there are too few farms to sustain a city of this size, with so many people inside. Of course we shall always have food sent from Lunster but the farms and fishing boats are producing far less there because so many of our people were stolen by the Kottermanis. So we need all the help we can get.”
“But how do we know which ones helped Aidan turn to Zorva? I killed two of the main ones, Meinster and Londegal, but there will be others,” Fallon warned.
“Of course. But we have to be realistic. We need to keep the nobles on our side for a little while, at least, until we are strong enough to bring them to heel.”
“Cavan would not have done this,” Fallon objected.
“Cavan would have done the same. He told me his plans, as he did you. He would have played the Guilds off against the nobles, reducing the power of each as he went along. We need to do something similar.”
“The Guilds as well?” Fallon cried. “But they have been helping Aidan from the start. They used their thugs to try and kill us and then there were enough of them down in that foul chamber as well!”
“Yet they have money. Money we need to buy food, fuel, weapons and armor, and to keep this city running. Men need to be paid. Without money, we have nothing.”
“What about the King’s gold?”
“We can use that, true, but a great deal of it has been sent out to the counties to pay for the arms and armor that was used to equip your army,” she said. “What is left will not last us long. But the Guilds have more than enough gold to keep us warm through the winter.”
“And what will they want in return?”
“Just the right to keep trading. We can break our agreements with them once spring is here. But we need them until then.”
Fallon glanced over at Padraig. The old wizard hated the Guilds more than he despised washing his robe, which was saying something, so when he reluctantly nodded, Fallon turned back to the Duchess.
“So what do we offer them?” he asked. “And how do we get them in here? I doubt that many of them will be willing to put themselves in my hands, especially after what we did to some of their friends this morning.”
“True,” she admitted. “But we have other means. We can send messengers to each of the nobles, offering them the chance of everything going on as before.”
“They will not trust us,” Fallon said.
Again she smiled but this time there was warmth there. “They will believe me. After all, I am one of them. And I can be most convincing. They will want to hear that you will be removed once the danger of Kotterman is past and Gaelland will return to normal rule. Not only will I leave them thinking that, but also plant the idea in each of their minds that they should be the next King. They are small men, with large dreams. They will all be thinking about that.”
“And the ones who do not agree to your offers?”
“They are the ones who are already sworn to Zorva,” she replied evenly. “We do not need them all. We just need to win over perhaps half of them, in order to keep the city running. Once we hear back, we will need you to take some of your army out in the countryside. Nobles who think they can defy us in safety will get a nasty shock when we arrive at their home with a thousand spears. They can either fight and die or hand over all we need from their storerooms. Either way we win.”
“And the Guilds?” Fallon asked.
“We merely ask them to bring all their new leaders to meet with me in Aroaril’s cathedral. And then I shall make them pay a fine to the crown. Or, to us anyway. Nothing too much but enough to keep us going, along with what they must pay in taxes and what we have already in the treasury.”
“You are being harsher on the Guilds than on the nobles, yet the Guilds are inside the city,” Padraig observed.
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She chuckled. “They will expect it. In fact they will suspect a trap if we are too fair to them. The King has bled them white all these years and they expect the Crown to have its hand out for gold. Asking them to pay us money will reassure them, rather than alarm them.”
Fallon shook his head. He wanted to cleanse the land of the filth of the Guilds and the nobles, scourge them away and start again. He still remembered what the nobles had done at those banquets with the King.
“Fallon, this is only until the Kottermani danger is past. They will pay for their crimes,” Dina said, breaking his thoughts.
“I know, Duchess,” he said, a little surprised by her concerned tone.
“Good. Gaelland will not forget the debt it owes you for ridding us of Aidan. We will have a new land, a happier land. No more will the people live at the whims of a vain and ignorant noble. We shall end the nobility. Without the need for local lords and their greed, we can reduce taxes dramatically. Of course we need to split the country into regions to organize it but all will be simpler and better. Look, I have drawn up some ideas but you are free to add your own, or change these as you see fit. I was inspired by the way you ran Baltimore and see that as a way to run the country.”
She pushed a sheet of parchment across the table and he looked over it quickly, Padraig at his shoulder. As he read, his excitement grew. Each village would vote for one of its own to be the headman, while each town would have a small council of three, five or seven, depending on the size. Each region would then gather together its headmen and they would elect one of their number to represent them in Berry, where they could bring problems right to the heart of power. As well, traveling magistrates would roam the land, with the power to make judgments on disputes and to check on what the local headmen were doing, to keep them honest.
As for taxes, one part in ten would be sent to Berry, where it could be distributed to the poor, as well as used to improve the country. Improved how would be decided by the men sent to Berry by their regions. And, to ensure none of them could become nobles in all but name, every three years there would be a new vote.
