The Bloody Quarrel (The Complete Edition)

by Duncan Lay

  The Banker looked uncertainly at him. “She was not arrested? Not taken screaming and crying into the castle?”

  Fallon made himself laugh lightly. “A foolish jest between friends. She will tell you herself when you see her tomorrow. Shall we say noon, so she does not have to rise early? Bring as many Guild leaders as you feel necessary.”

  He could see the confusion on the Banker’s face and enjoyed it. If nothing else, this would buy him enough time to be ready to search every Guildhouse at a moment’s notice.

  “We understand the Duchess might be tired after the success of your march through the counties. We shall make it brief.”

  “Excellent,” Fallon said. “Well, if there is nothing else that concerns you?”

  “No, that was my reason for visiting.”

  “Good. Well, I am glad I could clear that up. And after you have met with the Duchess, we can perhaps discuss terms for a short-term loan to keep the city operating?”

  He saw the man out to the door, where Gallagher was ready to take him back out of the castle.

  “What are we going to do? That traitorous bitch is not going to help us,” Devlin said. “What in Aroaril’s name were you thinking of when you said that?”

  “She will help us. She has spent a night in the cells. We offer her the chance to live in her townhouse and, if she behaves, the chance to go and live quietly in the country somewhere after all this is over.”

  “Why not keep her here, right under our thumb, in her rooms?” Gallagher asked.

  “Partly because we need to use them but mainly because I don’t want her hearing or knowing what is going on around here. Who knows what servants she has in her pay?”

  Brendan thumped the table. “I will not see her get away with it!” he growled.

  “And nor will she. We will lie to her, pure and simple. And at all times she will have two dozen guards around her. Men we trust. If she tries anything then she will suffer a tragic accident. And we shall be ready to raid the Guildhouses at a moment’s notice, if they kick up a fuss.”

  Brendan grimaced. “I don’t trust her any further than I can throw her.”

  “Well, that could be quite a way,” Padraig said with a wink. “She’s pretty small, you know.”

  “This is not a laughing matter,” Devlin said.

  “No, it’s not. But we need to use everything we can to get this city ready for the Kottermanis. If that means tricking and lying to Dina, then so be it. We have just forced the nobles around here to help us. If they smell weakness then they will all stop the food coming and then we will have even more trouble,” Fallon said forcefully. “And what about the Guild of Magic? With their help, we have blinded Swane. If they turn against us then we would have more problems than a lack of flour. I would not like Swane to see how weak we really are here.”

  He looked around the table and they all nodded, even Brendan.

  “We had better keep a close eye on her though,” he added. “We’ll pick at least a score of our best recruits and put Casey in charge.”

  “Not one of us?” Brendan suggested.

  Fallon shook his head. “We’re too well known. The Guilds will smell a rat if we are there. They don’t know Casey.”

  “Aroaril, I hope you are right about this,” Devlin said. “It might be safer to keep her here.”

  “Would you invite a snake into your house? I fear she will be up to mischief here. In her townhouse she will be all alone, watched by a score of our best men at all times and only those we allow can enter. I don’t like keeping her around any more than you do but you heard that bloody Guildsman. People are talking and we don’t have the time or the energy to waste on fighting inside Berry. We have to get ready for the Kottermanis. Besides, there is a kind of justice to it. She used us to help her plans. So we use her now.”

  *

  Fallon had been prepared to argue and threaten but Dina jumped at the opportunity to leave the cells and seemed delighted to be able to bathe and eat and dress in silks again at her ducal townhouse. That aroused his suspicions a little but her servants were all sent away and replaced with two dozen of his best recruits, led by Casey, who had proved himself time and again since his fearful moment at Killarney.

  When three Guild leaders – the heads of the Bankers, the Potters and Tanners – arrived, she charmed them, and not only sent them away happy but having also signed notes of credit that Fallon could send off to the nobles in exchange for firewood and bales of both wool and hay. That allayed some of his suspicions but he was not about to let his guard down.

  “Do not let her out of your sight and send word to me the moment anything strange happens,” he told Casey.

  “You can rely on me, Captain,” the young man said with a smile and a salute.

  He was barely older than most of the recruits but he had developed an air of authority. Fallon patted him on the shoulder and walked away, mind already busy on other problems.

  *

  “Dad, when can we go down to the range and use our crossbows again?” Kerrin asked.

  Fallon laid down the parchment he was reading and was about to send his son away when he caught sight of the huge pile of other requests waiting for him. He had never thought ruling a country would need so many scribes and pieces of paper. Aidan seemed to do it without going to any effort but perhaps he was not the best example. Every time he turned around it seemed like people wanted something. He shoved the paper away.

  “Let’s go down now,” he suggested.

  It was a relief to forget his worries, wash them away in the familiar action of loosing a crossbow, although he soon forgot about his own practicing to watch Kerrin. He was good with both the small Kottermani crossbow and the larger Gaelish one, picking out targets with cool precision.

  “Dad, I need to help you when the Kottermanis come,” he said, after one particularly fine shot with the full-size crossbow.

  Fallon looked down at his son and saw he was deadly serious. “Son, you should never want to fight. Sometimes you have to fight but it is not something you go looking for. How would you go loosing one of those bolts, real bolts, at a man who was running at you, trying to kill you? Or trying to kill me?”

  Kerrin was silent for a few moments but when he looked up, his jaw was set. “I don’t want to hide away again. I want to stand up if they come for me. Like you will and just like Mam did.”

  Fallon felt a lump in his throat and he had to swallow several times before he could speak again.

  “Let’s hope it does not come to that,” he said gruffly. What would Bridgit say when she saw Kerrin now? There was no spare flesh on his frame and his shoulders were firm with muscle after all the work he had been doing with crossbows. The worried look had left his eyes and face and he never coughed now. She was going to be pleased about some of that – but not all. He could not wait to be scolded for the rest of it. For that would mean she was actually there with him.

  Then his thoughts were interrupted by Devlin hurrying over.

  “Fallon, we have a problem.”

  *

  “I shouldn’t be down here. And at least half of these men should be out there as well. We can help you – we have been helping you. You need us,” Gannon said. “I didn’t know what the Duchess was doing – most of us had no idea. Why else do you think she was using gutter scum to do her bidding? She knew we would never stand for it. We were Hagen’s men, as you were.”

  Fallon looked at the big sergeant skeptically. Keverne and the men captured with him were in one cell, Gannon and the others spread out across the rest. These were not the cells Aidan had been using to keep children; these were the castle’s real cells, dark and forbidding. Fallon liked it like that. It reminded these bastards why they were in there.

  “Let me guess, you want to guard the Duchess? Or maybe be given responsibility for one of the city gates? And then I turn my back and the Duchess is gone and Swane is back in here with an army.”

  “I wouldn’t want to be near he
r ever again,” Gannon said. “I want to stop the Kottermanis. We both know they are coming and you will need every man you can get. Hagen trained us, which means we are worth three of your recruits. Come on, man, I was on board your ship the night they hit Baltimore! Hagen was my captain: he picked me out of the gutter and gave me a uniform. I owe him. And we helped you get away from Lunster, don’t you remember?”

  “You didn’t stop us, which is a different thing,” Fallon corrected him. “Look at it from my point of view. I have been tricked and betrayed by just about everybody. How can I take the chance on you?”

  “The priestess! Bring her down here and she will show we do not lie.”

  Fallon shook his head. “Dina showed me how it is possible to fool Sister Rosaleen. You just have to avoid speaking a lie, while not telling all the truth.”

  “I can help you,” Gannon insisted. “I didn’t know what the Duchess was doing but I did see some strange things.”

  “Like what?”

  “When we went through the papers in Aidan’s office, I had orders to clear them out and bring them to the old wizard. I was doing that, but I noticed some go missing.”

  “How did you see things go missing?” Fallon asked suspiciously.

  “Well, there was one pile of scrolls that got smaller much quicker than the others. And then there were scraps of parchment in the fire the next morning.”

  Fallon sighed. “Well, even if this is true, that is no use to us if they are all burned. And if she destroyed some papers, they were probably evidence of her dealings with King Aidan. Is that all you have?”

  Gannon thrust his hand through the bars. “Please, give me a chance. Just give me a sword and let me fight the Kottermanis when they come. Promise me that, at least.”

  “I’ll think about it,” Fallon said, then turned on his heel.

  “Should we lock them all up and consider them all traitors?” Rosaleen asked.

  “Yes, we bloody well should!” Brendan growled.

  “Gannon was right in one way. We need trained men,” Fallon said.

  “We cannot trust anyone, ever again, except for us,” Devlin said. “Every bastard we have gone to has stabbed us in the back or sold us out.”

  “But we also need all the help we can get. Sister, can you speak to them and see what is in their hearts?”

  Rosaleen looked down at the table. “Once I would have said yes,” she confessed. “Now I cannot trust myself. I still find it hard to accept that I could sit next to the Duchess, hold her hand and tell you she spoke the truth, when she hid such a terrible lie from us.”

  “It was not your fault,” Gallagher said immediately.

  Fallon felt he could understand her fears only too well. The words of both Aidan and Dina hung over him. He had made so many bad choices and no longer trusted his gut. He could not make a mistake that doomed all of Gaelland. “If it is any consolation, it did not hurt us. The damage had already been done and since then she has worked to help us,” he said. “And, even now, she seems to be keeping her bargain. Casey reports that she never goes out, just requests to see a dressmaker and spends half the day designing new outfits.”

  “And who is paying for that?” Brendan asked indignantly.

  “You are,” Padraig said. “But at least you’ll get to wear a few of them afterwards!”

  Fallon let them laugh before tapping the table. “So what are we going to do with Gannon and his men?”

  “Either try them or let them rot,” Devlin said.

  “We can’t put them on trial,” Rosaleen said. “The memory of the witch trials is too fresh, as is the execution of King Aidan. People trust us but that won’t last if we keep killing people. They’ll start asking if we are like Aidan.”

  “What about these missing scrolls that got burned? Maybe that was something important. Maybe even the details about Regan’s informers in the city,” Padraig said.

  “If Gannon wasn’t lying to us,” Fallon sighed. “I don’t trust anyone or anything. We keep them locked up and have Casey watch the Duchess like a hawk. She can do nothing with our guards around her.”

  CHAPTER 46

  With the knife pressed into her throat, Bridgit was forced to accompany them up onto the deck, where a crowd gathered. Blaine was threatening the others with Bridgit’s knife, but it was Carrick’s blade at her neck that was keeping the others back.

  “Where’s Keegan, Fitz and Arron? Come forward now and take your reward!” Blaine called out.

  Nobody came forward but the crowd parted to show the three of them standing sheepishly at the back.

  “So they helped you escape?” Bridgit asked coolly.

  “That’s enough from you! I have heard the last of your stinking orders! Telling us to obey you as if you dropped out of Aroaril’s chamber pot. You’re a stupid bloody woman and if you say anything again I will cut your tits off!” Carrick screamed at her then moved the knife down until it was resting on her breastbone, emphasizing his threat.

  Bridgit looked down at the knife, seeing how dented and blunted it was, and how the hand that held it was scratched and bloodied, and something Fallon had once told her came back to her then.

  “Keegan, Arron, Fitz, get up here. We are going to be running the ship now and things will be done right,” Blaine announced.

  The trio did not move at first but, with everyone staring at them, they finally shuffled forwards to stand with Blaine.

  “We five are going to eat, and you are going to work for us. We were the ones who got you away from Kotterman and we are the ones who will protect you if the Kottermanis come back. We have your precious Bridgit and if you want her to keep breathing, you are going to do what we say. So it’s time for some tough decisions. Some of those little kids are just useless mouths to feed—”

  A cry of horror and outrage rose out of the crowd and Carrick turned away from Bridgit to glare at them, keeping his knife pressed into her chest.

  Instantly Bridgit surged forwards. The tip of the knife dug into the skin over her breastbone but hit the bone and went no further. Instead, the blunted knife twisted in Carrick’s grasp and dropped to the deck from his wounded fingers.

  He turned back but she was already swinging her right arm, her hand in a fist but with the thumb cocked out. It drove into his eye and she felt it give beneath her sharp nail, spattering her hand with warm ooze as the eyeball burst.

  Carrick squealed in pain and shock and jerked his head back. She lashed out with her foot, driving it into his groin. He staggered away, one hand clasped over his ruined eye, the other to his breeches.

  His brother spun around and shouted in anger but before he could take more than two steps towards Bridgit he was swamped under a wave of angry parents, knife plucked from his hand, quickly beaten unconscious by a score of fists.

  The other three, Keegan, Fitz and Arron, held out their hands in surrender but nobody was in the mood to be merciful and they were also beaten to the deck.

  “Bring them all over here,” Bridgit said coldly.

  The five of them were dragged over to the rail and there, battered and bruised, they were lashed tight with rope and propped upright, unable to move.

  Carrick was weeping, tears of pain from one eye, tears of blood from the other, while Blaine snuffled to breathe through a broken nose and smashed lips. The other three were pleading their case, claiming they knew nothing about it, but she was not interested in hearing what they had to say. She checked on Caron, the woman whose scream had woken everyone and discovered she had a bruised face and a nasty cut on her cheekbone from where Blaine had punched her but nothing worse.

  “Are you all right?” Riona asked, examining the gash on Bridgit’s chest. Luckily the days of rationing had meant there was little flesh between the knife and her breastbone, and while she had an angry-looking cut, it was easy enough to staunch with a torn scrap of cloth that she kept pressed there.

  “What were you thinking?” Nola gasped. “Throwing yourself on a knife?”


  Bridgit smiled. “He had it pressed against my breastbone and you would need one of Brendan’s hammers to knock a knife through there. Fallon told me once he had stabbed someone in the middle of the chest and had the knife just bounce off. A sharper knife would have done more damage but I was not going to let them hurt a child, no matter what it cost.”

  “Even so—”

  “I did what I had to. Now I must again,” she told her friends quietly and then waved for silence. “I am sorry,” she told the crowd. “I was trying to do the right thing and get these men home, especially after the way their cousins were killed.”

  “That’s right, you killed them!” Carrick cried in a voice cracked by pain.

  She pointed at him. “They broke into our food store, gorged themselves, risking the lives of everyone aboard, then threatened the children. Even if we wanted to return them for judgment for their crimes, we cannot. They have to go, if we are to live.”

  Instantly the five of them, even the dazed Blaine, sent up a howl of protest, begging for mercy, promising to be good, promising anything for another chance.

  The pain from the wound on her chest stopped any pity from reaching Bridgit’s heart. “Too late,” she told them.

  She walked over to Carrick, who still had his eyes screwed shut against the pain of the missing one. He was leaning against the rail and she bent, waited for the ship to tilt with the waves, then grabbed his tied legs and lifted. He screamed and tried to thrash around but was held too tight by the ropes. For a moment she thought she could not do it, that she was too weak from lack of food, but then he reached the tipping point and vanished over the side.

  The other four looked at her with sheer terror on their faces as Carrick’s wail was cut off by the splash as he hit the water. She looked at Blaine’s size and took a deep breath.

  “Give me a hand here,” she said.

  For a long moment nobody moved, then there was a rush to grab the wailing Blaine and flip him up and over the rail.

  Beside them, the youngest of the other three, Fitz, had wet himself and was shaking with fear, tears running down his face.