by Duncan Lay
Fallon looked up happily. “This is exactly what Cavan would have wanted,” he said, his voice thick.
“I had hoped so.” She smiled. “Eventually all noble titles will be removed. Your birth will no longer matter; it will all come down to ability. Men like you will rise, while men like Aidan will fall.”
“As long as we defeat the Kottermanis,” Gannon said, his words puncturing the bright vision of Gaelland the others were enjoying.
“As usual, Gannon is right,” Dina said. “Fallon, we need you back out there training your men. Can you trust me to keep the country running while you protect it? And then, in the spring, we can make Cavan’s dream come true.”
Fallon did not hesitate. His relationship with Dina had been unusual, to say the least, and there had been times when he doubted where her loyalties lay. But he could find no fault with her plans now. Besides, having her make the decisions meant he did not have to, and the King’s words could not come back to haunt him.
“Of course, your grace,” he said.
*
“There is something missing,” Padraig said in frustration.
“What?” Fallon asked.
“There are gaps here. It looks as though the most important papers have been taken out of here.”
Fallon looked around the room. There were scrolls piled up in all sorts of areas, while the old wizard’s eyes were red-rimmed and glazed.
“You need to take a break,” Fallon said.
“I need to find the answers!” Padraig growled. “I have been through piles of the most boring, useless, pointless scrolls just to find the few that mean anything to us. Whenever money is moved in this country, there is a piece of paper for it. Follow the money and you find the truth. But the money trail keeps vanishing.”
“Maybe you haven’t found the right scrolls yet.”
“Or maybe they were never given to me,” Padraig said ominously.
Fallon paused. “That suggests that an ally of the King’s took them. Are you saying Gannon or one of his men had something to do with it? If they did, we know whose orders it was on.”
Padraig rubbed at red eyes. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “Perhaps it was never there. Perhaps that bastard of a chamberlain hid it somewhere else.”
“I’ll ask Gannon to look again. If he acts strangely then I’ll ask a little harder,” Fallon said.
Padraig reached out and grabbed his arm. “Be careful,” he said. “We may have cut the head off the snake but there would be many others in Berry who were inside the King’s plots. It doesn’t have to be Gannon. An ordinary guard would do just as well. We heard much about the King’s agents hidden in the city, but I have found nothing to identify them yet.”
Fallon sighed. “Maybe I shouldn’t have sent Rosaleen down to Lunster. Meanwhile I’ll keep an eye on Gannon.”
CHAPTER 36
“How soon can we march on Berry?” Swane demanded.
He ground his teeth in anger as he saw Ryan’s face blanch and the horror on the face of the new Earl of Meinster, a weak-chinned man even younger than Swane.
“Highness, we need to wait a little first,” Ryan said in that soothing tone of voice that annoyed Swane even further.
“Why? We have wasted days traveling here and every turn of the hourglass that bastard Fallon sits in Berry makes him that more secure and insults the shade of my father. You know what they did? Dragged him up in front of a baying crowd, let him bleed to death and then burned his body! Fallon needs to die and his death needs to be a warning to every man, woman and child who was there. We have to strike and we have to strike soon. The peasants are getting ideas that they can do what they want, not what they are told! Where will it end? No, we have to gather your guards and march on Berry, calling up the fyrd as we go and rallying other loyal troops to us. By the time we arrive at Berry, the people will hand Fallon over to us or they will share his penalty.”
“Highness, we cannot do that,” the Earl said firmly.
Swane glared at him. Despite his lack of chin, the Earl’s mouth was set in a strong line.
“I only have two hundred guards. With luck, we might be able to have one thousand gathered to us by Berry. But that will not be enough to take back the city.”
“We have the fyrd!” Swane howled.
“Who cannot be trusted. My county, as well as every other county, had to send young men to Berry to be trained. They are now this Fallon’s army. The fyrd will be made up of their fathers and uncles and cousins and friends. If we call out the fyrd, they could turn on us and we will be destroyed. Even if they are loyal, they will have no weapons. We sent all of them to Berry too, to outfit your father’s new army, which is in Fallon’s hands. And we might not even reach Berry. Fallon could hear word that we are marching on him. There are many places where we could be ambushed on the march.”
“Then we march with what we have. The other lords will rally to my banner.”
“That may not happen, highness,” Ryan warned.
“And why not? They are sworn to my father’s service and now he is dead I am the rightful King of Gaelland!”
“Duchess Dina of Lunster has sent messages out to every noble in the land, promising they can keep their lands if they refuse to follow you,” Ryan said gently.
Swane forced himself to breathe slowly through his nose. He had seen how his father had made people jump with his temper – but that was when he was seated in his throne room, with guards lining the wall all waiting to do his bidding. He had no guards, nothing other than Ryan and his birthright. Until now, he always had people to tell him what to do. Thinking of things himself was proving harder than it looked.
“How was this done?” he asked stiffly.
“She must have paid the Wizards’ Guild in Berry, for it arrived personally to me, brought by a fast-flying bird,” Meinster said. “Naturally I showed it to your man Ryan and have it here for you to inspect, highness.”
Swane took it with what he knew was ill-disguised politeness and read swiftly, his anger mounting again. It was full of gentle promises and veiled threats. Do nothing but send the regular tithe to Berry and you will retain all your lands and titles. Or be visited by Captain Fallon and his army as they seek to take what is due. King Aidan had turned to worship of Zorva and had to die but, come the spring, there would be a new king chosen, from among the nobles who had stood by Gaelland in this time of crisis. The Duchess, as the widow of the King’s cousin, would step in as regent until then but would stand aside in the spring.
“Now word will spread that my father was worshipping Zorva!” he growled. “We need to get Archbishop Kynan into every church in every county, telling them that is a lie and it is every man’s duty to rise up against the traitors who hold my capital.”
“That is impossible I am afraid, highness. After the rites that Kynan has performed, he is unable to enter a church of Aroaril. It would burn him.”
Swane shook his head in disbelief. “Well, how many nobles will listen to this filth?”
“For the lords close to Berry, it is a potent threat. Many of the smaller counties would only have a small company of personal guards,” Ryan said. “And then there are the ones who have their own ambitions for the throne. As Meinster rises, they were set to fall. But this gives them the hope that they will be the next King. We can count on Meinster here, and Londegal’s heir too, but who knows about the others?”
“That traitorous bitch! I’ll see her eyes pulled out and then rip out her heart myself!” Swane growled, crumpling the parchment, taking out his anger on that, for he could not release it on anyone else.
Ryan and Meinster said nothing.
“So what can we do?” he asked finally. “You have told me I cannot bring an army together to take back my throne and avenge my father, nor count on the nobles who swore oaths of loyalty. What have I got?”
“We still have Finbar, Highness. We should send our own message to the nobles, reminding them of their oaths and telling them that t
hose who show loyalty now will be rewarded later. Once we have mustered together more men, then we can issue threats of our own. Join us or die.”
“Now that is more like it,” Swane said approvingly. “I cannot wait for spring. I need to have Berry back and Fallon’s body hanging behind my throne.”
CHAPTER 37
Kemal looked out across the sea, chewing on his lip nervously. He had eight ships, each carrying two hundred and fifty soldiers, almost all of the men who had been brought together in Adana. In another half-moon he would have ten times that number in Adana but there was no time to wait for them. The weather would have turned by then and he had no wish to see his fleet wrecked by a Gaelish storm. His ships were the best the Empire had but on an unfamiliar coast, with weather that could change in an instant, that was not good enough.
Besides, the thought of waiting all that time while Feray and the boys were in Gaelland was impossible.
He felt he had enough men to seize Berry and hold it for the winter. Once he had two thousand veteran soldiers in King Aidan’s castle, the Gaelish would need five times that number to get them out – and they had nothing that could match the Kottermani bow. Once the winter was over, a full Kottermani fleet could follow and relieve them.
That was not the concern. Instead, he was worried he had not sighted the ship Bridgit and her people had used to escape. He knew many of them came from fishing villages and could handle a small boat, but surely they could not sail a Kottermani ship at the same pace his trained men could. He had no intention of boarding the ship, but he did want to keep it in sight, so he could keep it safe and tow it in to Berry, ready for the two sets of families to be exchanged. He had expected to see Bridgit’s ship at dawn on the first day of the pursuit but they had been sailing for three days now and, although his fleet was spread out so that each ship could only see the mast of the other, none had sighted the one they were chasing. He hoped it did not mean they were lost. If necessary, he would spread his fleet and search for them but that would take time and he could feel the sailing season slipping away. He decided to keep going for the rest of the day. If they had not been sighted by nightfall, he would have to search a wider area.
“What are you doing, Bridgit?” he muttered.
*
Bridgit patted the hand of Taidgh, a young man who lived along the coast of Lunster with his two brothers. All three and their families had been taken by the Kottermanis. Now they were all clustered around him as he lay on the deck. He had taken an ugly slash from a Kottermani sword across the chest and, although they had tried to close it up, he was still losing blood. It smelled bad and his skin was a waxy color.
“I am sorry but he is not going to make it back to Gaelland. And we cannot afford to feed him or give him water,” she told the families evenly, hating the words but meeting their eyes strongly. She liked Taidgh's two children and had spent many a turn of the hourglass playing with them over the past moon. It was for them, as well as for the other children that she spoke. The food was going down too fast. The goats’ milk had dried up after just two days and the beasts had been slaughtered and eaten, for there was no salt to preserve them. Nothing was going as she had planned. This was the last of the families of the dying men and none of these conversations had been easy. Others had wailed and protested and sobbed and begged but she had stood firm. As she would here. If these poor people had to suffer through losing a loved one, the least she could do was face them with courage.
Taidgh’s wife dissolved into tears, as did his children, while his two brothers scowled.
“If he gets no food or water then he will never last,” one of them muttered.
“He will never last anyway. And the food and water we are giving him could go to your children,” she said. “I am sorry but I have to think of them.”
“So we just sit here and watch him slowly die?”
“That is happening anyway,” she said gently. “But, if you wish, you can help him on his way. That way he will not suffer any more.”
Taidgh’s wife burst into fresh storms of tears at this.
“I am sorry. I had vowed to get everyone home and I am breaking my word. But I cannot let us starve to death within sight of Gaelland. Men must have strength to sail the ship.”
“What about those fat bastards from Killarney, Blaine and Carrick? They still look as though they are eating enough for three men apiece,” one of Taidgh’s brothers said.
“Don’t worry. I will deal with them,” Bridgit said grimly.
*
The ship was all quiet as it sailed through the night, its tiller hanging loose and alone. Two large shadows appeared from below decks and walked slowly towards the tiller, their arms full.
“What did you get?” Blaine asked softly.
“Nice bit of meat. Buggered if I know what it is though. Could be that camel,” Carrick said. “Tastes like shit.”
“Well, I’ll have it if you don’t want it,” Blaine offered.
Next moment, lanterns were unhooded and the two of them stood in the center of a blaze of light.
“No, we’ll have it,” Bridgit said sternly.
“What’s the problem, woman?” Blaine asked.
“You are,” she said coldly. “For sending us on the wrong course and stealing the food from the mouths of our children.”
“What are you talking about? We just stepped away for a moment to keep our strength up so we could spend all night looking after this ship,” Carrick mumbled.
“You have let us drift off course while you broke into our food store and stuffed your stupid faces!” Bridgit snarled at them.
The pair of them strode over towards her, their obvious guilt now fading away into anger.
“You lie! We have been taking care of this ship while everyone else sleeps! We took that shift when you told us to and nobody else wanted it. Who dares say we have not done our job?” Carrick demanded.
Beside him, Blaine glared around at the crowd, daring them to stand with Bridgit.
“I do,” Bridgit said evenly. “The truth is, you threatened anyone else who offered to watch the ship at night, until you had it to yourself. Our food supplies have been going down far faster than they should. So tonight we watched you. As soon as you thought the ship was asleep, you left the tiller and disappeared below. Meanwhile while we sail in Aroaril-knows-what direction. Obviously you have been doing that every night.”
“That is a lie!” Blaine bellowed, raising a huge, hairy fist, his warning obvious.
“You might have got away with it for longer if you had the sense to at least lash the tiller and keep us on course for the night, and stole only a little food, instead of eating like greedy animals,” Bridgit told them coldly. “I have had to tell the families of our wounded men we can no longer feed them because you have eaten the food reserve we had. Men will die because of your greed. If we are to make it to Gaelland, this cannot happen again.”
The two men glanced around the deck and she could see them adding up how many men stood around them. The families of the dying men in particular looked furious, with Taidgh’s two brothers pushing their way to the front.
“It won’t happen again,” Blaine said. “You have our word.”
She glared at them. Even now they thought a weak apology would be enough to see them escape the consequences of their actions. She had given them chances, time and again, more than they deserved, in memory of their cousins. She would not make the same mistake again.
“Your word? I wouldn’t trust that further than I could spit,” she told them. “You have robbed those men of any chance for life. And you have endangered the rest of us. We have less food and a longer journey because of you.”
“Who made you in charge anyway? You’re just a fishwife, good for cooking and cleaning and that’s it. Certainly too old for anything else,” Blaine said with a leer.
“You don’t know what you are doing or where you are going. You can’t sail a ship or plot a course. People, why are you l
istening to her? She doesn’t know what she is doing! We should be in charge. At least we are the strongest!” Carrick cried.
Bridgit stared at them. A few moons ago, she would have agreed with them or, at the very least, run away from their challenge. But not now. “I am in charge because I will get us home. You will get us lost and killed. Now you will do what I say,” she told them.
“Are you going to make us?” Blaine challenged.
“And what are you going to do about it if we say we won’t listen to you?” Carrick asked nastily.
Bridgit took a pace forwards herself, her voice conversational. “Make you pay for your crimes,” she said, then pivoted on her left foot, bringing her right fist upwards in a vicious uppercut with all her bodyweight behind it. If she had struck just about anywhere on Carrick, he would have shrugged it off. But Fallon had taught her that to fight fair was being foolish. She drove her punch into his groin, and then danced away as he folded over, squealing in pain, and thumped down to the deck.
Blaine turned to see his brother writhing on the floor and cried out in mingled anger and fear. He took a step towards Bridgit but she brought out a knife from behind her back.
“You are fat and slow and I will make you bleed if you take another step,” she hissed at him.
He was twice her size but hesitated, as she had thought he would. He was used to people stepping around him and plainly was surprised by her defiance. She knew that would not last. He was a bully but just standing up to a bully was not enough. Yet she only needed a few moments. Blaine was dragged down from behind by half a dozen men, Taidgh’s brothers leading the way.
She used her foot to roll over the gasping, moaning Carrick, who was still clutching where she had punched him.
“The pair of you will be taken below and locked up. You will receive no more food than the smallest child until we reach Gaelland. And there you will answer for your crimes,” she told them. “Now take them away.”
The pair of them protested, although Carrick was more screeching with pain than saying anything, as they were hauled away.
