The Last Quarrel (The Complete Edition) (18 page)

She lifted her head up to look at him then. “But, don’t you see, that is exactly the time when the village needs you. If we go, the Duchess will put in a new man here and he won’t care who lives and dies, just that he looks good and the tax quota is filled.”

“That will be the same for me as well. I’ve been able to look the other way when farmers say the wolves took a few extra lambs, or when the fishermen claim the fish weren’t biting that day, because I’ve always made sure we send a decent share of taxes to Lunster. But I won’t be able to do that any more. And then there is the Prince himself. He didn’t seem like just another noble. Not even the Duke ever came into our house and ate your honeycakes. Yet he sat at the table as if he were an old friend. King Aidan is far away and that’s a good thing, judging by some of the stories that get told about him. But Cavan is different. I feel he could be a great King, one who truly unites Gaelland. At the moment we think of ourselves as Lunstermen first, Gaelish second. But he really cares. And I could be at his side.”

She sighed. “I like him as well. I just have a bad feeling about Berry. Here, we are a family. I’m worried we will lose all that if we go to the capital.”

Fallon cupped her face and kissed her gently. “I promise you that will never happen. We are together forever and that will never change.”

She smiled and kissed him back. “Full of blarney, as always,” she said fondly. “I cannot say why I want us to stay, cannot come up with a brilliant reason to change your mind. I just have to ask you to trust me.”

Fallon hesitated. Most men in Baltimore saw themselves as the lords of their homes and their women were expected to obey them at all times. Even the arrival of a Sister of Aroaril had not changed that much. Fallon had never seen it that way, recognizing in Bridgit a deep well of good sense that should be listened to. Besides, he loved her too much to treat her like that. Yet this was an offer to be captain of the future King’s Guard! If he turned this down, then he would stay here for the rest of his life and always wonder if he should have made a different choice.

“I have to go to Lunster tomorrow. Both the Prince and the Duchess are expecting me and I cannot ignore an order from them. I shall speak to the Prince and ask him about where we would be living, how much we would be paid and if there are any priests in the castle who can use Aroaril’s power. It is the King’s home, for Aroaril’s sake. There have to be some priests, or healers, or something to keep him healthy. And then we’ll talk again.”

She kissed him again. “I know how much this means to you. And we don’t want to drag you down from where you should be.”

“You don’t drag me down. Not now and not ever. And you and Kerrin mean more to me than anything else,” he said.

Except that was not entirely true. He wanted to go to Berry, be Cavan’s captain. The thought of giving advice to the future King – and then the King himself – was heady indeed. He patted her hand and stood.

“Now where are you going?” she asked.

“I need to see Brendan, Devlin and Gallagher, tell them what is happening and talk about what to do with our new orders and protecting fishing boats.”

“Don’t be late back. We’ve barely seen you this past quarter-moon.” She pulled him down and kissed him hard and he lifted her to her feet. “Kerrin’s out playing; we could slip upstairs …” he suggested.

“Not now! Later, maybe,” she promised.

“I wasn’t going to stay long at Brendan’s but I’ll be home even faster now.” He laughed.

He was tempted to try to take her upstairs anyway – it had been a long time – when the door banged open and Caley and Kerrin bounded inside.

“Brilliant timing, as always,” Fallon said as Bridgit broke away from him.

“What does that mean?” Kerrin asked.

“It means you can help me with dinner while your father goes out to work for a turn of the hourglass or so,” Bridgit said. “Now you and Caley need to wash your dirty paws.”

“Mam! I don’t have paws!”

“Well, wash whatever you’ve got.” Fallon winked at them both before heading out.

“Captain of the King’s Guard, eh? It makes all those days spent shouting in your ear while you shot my scarecrows full of holes seem worth it, somehow,” Devlin said solemnly.

“Well, before you go, how are we going to prove it is the Kottermanis behind it?” Gallagher asked.

“Get the Duke’s ship ready for sea. The wizard may have buggered up our plans to get the King’s help but he has given us a hand by fixing the holes torn in the side. Given a few days of work, it should be ready to sail again.”

“What, you feel like a nice cruise up the coast? Or are you planning to make it a present to the Prince?” Devlin asked.

“Very funny. No, I’ll get Hagen to send a company of men down here. We can fill the Duke’s ship full of guards and then sail it up and down the coast gently. They won’t be able to resist it,” Fallon predicted.

“But they’ve already hit it once. Surely they’ll be suspicious if they see it again?” Gallagher pointed out.

“True. That’s where you come in. If you change the angle of the bow and the shape of the stern cabin, it’ll look like a different ship. Or at least different enough that they’ll want to come in for a look. We’ll fly different flags and hide almost everyone in the hold until we spring the trap.”

“You keep talking about we but won’t you be in Berry by then, living in luxury?” Brendan said.

“Maybe. I’ll speak to the Prince and see if he’ll release me long enough to finish what we have started here,” Fallon said. “He wants to find out who is really behind this as much as we do.”

“But none of it explains why it was made to look like selkies,” Rosaleen countered.

“They never made it look like selkies. People’s imaginations did that – that and the King’s Wizard and King’s Archbishop,” Gallagher said darkly.

“He’s not the King’s Archbishop. He’s Aroaril’s,” Rosaleen said patiently.

“Really? Seems to me he was only saying what the King wanted. Or are you telling me that Aroaril thinks it a sin to feed your children, rather than make a fat noble even richer?”

“That’s not what I said. But you have to give the Archbishop your respect,” Rosaleen said heatedly.

“I don’t respect any of those bastards. Not one of them has done an honest day’s work in his life. They would all starve to death without an army of servants to look after them.”

“They are different to us, ordained by Aroaril to rule and as such they –”

“Sister, I may not be a farmer but I recognize the smell of bullshite! Who says they are better than us? Just because their great-grandfathers kissed the arse of some noble better than my great-grandfather? Sister, you need to clear the scales from your eyes, because you can’t see the truth right in front of you!”

“The truth that you’re an angry, bitter man lashing out at everything and everyone around you? You think that Aroaril singled you out to punish you but it was mere chance that your family died. Do you think you are the only person who has suffered tragedy in his life?” Rosaleen replied heatedly.

“You don’t know –” Gallagher began angrily but Fallon grabbed his shoulder.

“Gall, that’s enough,” he said, pulling him close so he could whisper in his ear. “My friend, she obviously feels something for you. Stop fighting! Man, you have suffered long enough, you deserve a little happiness –”

“I’m not ready for any of that,” Gallagher said, wrenching away, folding his arms and glaring at the wall.

“Getting some of these attackers is the key to everything. Not only might they be able to tell us why they are doing this, but, if they are Kottermani, we have proof for Prince Cavan to use. The likes of us can’t go questioning the nobles, but he can. So let’s capture some of them and get the people we’ve lost back with their families again,” Fallon said fiercely.

Padraig slapped him on the shoulder. “We’re going to miss you, lad. But the Prince needs men like you around him.”

“Aye. He must get bored of all the rich, handsome, smart ones he sees every day and want someone smelly, ugly, stupid and poor,” Devlin grinned.

“Well then he would have chosen you,” Fallon told him with a wink. “Padraig. Join us for dinner this night?”

“A pleasure!” The old wizard grinned, then lowered his voice as he steered Fallon away from the others. “Just be careful in Berry,” the old wizard told him quietly.

“Not you as well! Did Bridgit ask you to –”

“No, and I would never interfere. And I think she needs to move, needs a change to get her mind off all the bad things that happened here. I was thinking of you. I was like you once. I dreamed of going to the big cities and showing my true worth. I thought all I had to do was walk in the gate at Berry and they would see how brilliant I was. But I soon learned that it wasn’t about how good you are. It’s all about how you kissed arse with the Guilds and the nobles. I sought to win the people but they crushed me until I had to leave, went from smaller city to town to village. Losing my dream and then losing my magic left me like this. Don’t let it happen to you.”

Fallon looked at Padraig carefully but could see no sign of his usual good humor. For the first time, a touch of disquiet pierced his excitement at being asked to serve the Prince.

“Or it could be the best thing for you. Who knows?!” Padraig chuckled. “Come on, we don’t want to keep Bridgit waiting.”

“You know I love you, don’t you?” Bridgit asked.

“Of course,” Fallon said. They had eaten and seen both Kerrin to bed and Padraig back to his own home.

She had listened to her father’s pleadings for the family to go to Berry with annoyance at first, especially when Padraig insisted it was purely his own idea. It wasn’t until he swore on his dead wife, her mother, that she began to believe. She understood he wanted her to stop living in fear of something happening to Kerrin, but it was easier said than done.

Instead of making her feel better, Padraig’s words just made her more afraid – that Fallon would leave them.

“I’m happy that the Crown Prince has recognized how good you are. But I am terrified of what might happen if we go to Berry and scared you might leave us behind if I say no,” she said quietly.

He turned to her then. “I would never leave you and Kerrin. Never!” The passion in his voice made the pressure around her heart ease a little.

“I wouldn’t blame you if you set us aside. I am hard enough to live with at the best of times –”

“Can you please stop this foolishness?” he asked gently. “I love you and swore to always stay with you before Aroaril, no matter what the future brought. We have had more than our fair share of bad luck but now things are changing.”

“I wish I could see it that way,” she whispered. “I can’t stop the black thoughts. I try but my mind just fills with them.”

“Then we need to go to Berry and show you how foolish that is. But know this – I will go nowhere without you.”

“You don’t have to –”

“Whist! Stop your foolishness, woman,” he said lightly. “We have been through far too much together for me to ever want to be without you.”

She hugged him then, pulling him close to her, and he kissed her. She kissed him back and then held his face. She had learned not to trust her feelings over the past couple of years, for they often tricked her, but this business with Berry … There was something about it that said her imagined fears were nothing compared to the real ones.

“I know I am always worrying, but this is different, Fallon. I have a really bad feeling about what is happening in Berry. I know you can handle poachers and drunks but something much worse waits there.”

“I’ve been training for years for this,” Fallon insisted.

“But posts and scarecrows don’t fight back! You heard the Prince – powerful people are behind this and they will try to trick and betray you. What if something happened to you? Or what if something happened to the Prince?”

She saw that strike home but then his face closed down. “Bridge, let me at least talk to the Prince. We can always come back here, or even go to Lunster to serve the Duchess. But there we could have the best of everything.”

“Everything that is stolen from folk like our friends!”

“We’ll talk about it tomorrow. Good night,” he said, turning over.

She lay there, frustrated. Was she just letting her fears rule her? Her head said that was the case but, deep inside her gut, she knew she was right. Berry was dangerous. But how to convince him of that?

Fallon found himself dwelling on Bridgit’s words as he rode to Lunster. Like a worm, they ate into his thoughts until he had to force a grin onto his face when Hagen greeted him at the gate and waved him in.

“Here’s the man of the moment!” Hagen greeted him. “Village sergeant to captain of the guard for the Crown Prince! I’ll be asking you for a job next!”

“I’d think about it. You might have to start as a gate guard – just for a moon or two, until we see you can be trusted,” Fallon told him.

“You cheeky sod! I’ll remember that. You’re the only man I know who can fall into a shit pit and walk away smelling sweet as pie.”

Fallon shrugged his shoulders. “What can I say? It’s a talent.”

Hagen led him towards the manor house, checked they were not being followed and then stopped. “Listen, I don’t know how important this is but if you’re going to Berry, you should know that the Duke was worried about something when he came back from the capital a few moons ago. He came out of the King’s private rooms looking like a bloody ghost. And then he said nothing on the way home, just sat in his cabin, brooding.”

“He was the King’s cousin, so you think maybe the King told him something that scared him?”

“Or maybe the King just yelled at him for not paying enough tax.” Hagen shrugged. “He did that often enough. He and the Duchess were also fighting, so maybe he just needed a good shag?”

Fallon patted his friend’s back. “You never change! Meanwhile, you can help me in another way. If you can bring a few squads of your best men down to Baltimore, my boys will join them and you can set sail on the Duke’s ship. We’re making it look different and of course we’ll fly a different flag as well. Whoever’s out there won’t be able to resist coming to have a look. But you have to keep this quiet. There must be someone in the county who’s tipping them off. If you ride down with them, telling them it’s a training exercise, and only tell them what’s happening when you load them onto the ship, there’s no chance of anyone getting a warning to our attackers.”

“Good idea. You might make a captain if you keep coming up with them,” Hagen said with a smile, before it faded. “But what about at your end?”

“The only ones who know what’s going to happen are my constables, the Sister and my wife’s father the wizard,” Fallon said. “And if one of them is the traitor, then I’ll cut my own throat.”

“Fair enough,” Hagen agreed. “I’ll speak to the Duchess and then head down tomorrow, after you leave for Berry with Prince Cavan. I always thought the Duke was about the best you could hope for in a noble but Cavan’s a step above again. The country’s in good hands if he becomes King. So make bloody sure nothing bad happens to him!”

“If I leave with Prince Cavan,” Fallon said, Hagen’s friendly warning recalling Bridgit’s words from last night. That little voice in the back of his mind wouldn’t be silent. What if he wasn’t good enough? He was getting old; he’d never really used his sword in anger. Was he the right man to save the country? Then there was Bridgit. She
was
worth far more to him than anything else, even serving the Prince. What if she refused to join him in Berry? What would he do then?

“What do you mean? My friend, this is the chance of a lifetime.”

“I know. But am I right for it?”

“Come on. I’ve never seen anyone practice as much as you!”

“Maybe. But that’s not the same as the real thing,” Fallon confided, then stopped suddenly as Eamon stepped into their path.

“Captain Hagen, might I have a word with Fallon here?” the tall bodyguard said politely.

“That depends on what sort of word it is. The Duchess and the Prince are expecting us both,” Hagen said carefully.

“There are secrets I cannot reveal to everyone. But the future captain of my Prince’s guard needs to know. It will only be a quick word, I promise.”

“It’s fine, Hagen. I’ll be along in a moment,” Fallon said. He did not believe the bodyguard would try anything. Not there and not with Hagen as a witness.

Eamon waited until Hagen had moved away then offered Fallon a brief smile. “I know you’re thinking I feel threatened by you but nothing could be further from the truth,” he said quickly. “I am trying to protect you from making a big mistake.”

“Really?” Fallon said, failing to keep the sarcasm out of his voice.

Eamon’s face darkened. “Listen to me, you fool. You can choose to believe me or not, I don’t care. But there are bigger things going on. The Prince wants his own guards because he’s been attacked by his brother, Prince Swane. You are going to walk into a war in the middle of the palace. Swane can’t hurt Cavan himself, so he has to strike out at him in other ways. If you become captain of Cavan’s guards, that makes you Swane’s target. He will try and have you killed.”

“Warfare in the palace? I don’t think so,” Fallon said scornfully.

“As I said – believe me or not. I’m just warning you that you’re putting yourself up as a shield between two brothers who hate each other. And that’s before you even consider there is a gang of child snatchers working in Berry, stealing children from rich and poor alike. Cavan thinks his brother has something to do with that. If that’s true, then your son will be his prime target. Then there’s Prince Cavan’s recklessness. He chased these child snatchers across the rooftops and I had to drag him down to stop him jumping across a road too wide to clear. When you meet the King, you will have to swear on your life to protect the Prince. Fail and you will die the same day.”

“I knew there was going to be some danger,” Fallon said. He was searching Eamon’s face for some sign that this was a trick, but could not see anything.

“Some danger? You’re going to be lucky to survive. And that’s before you even consider King Aidan and his famous rages. They have to be seen to be believed. Can you defend yourself, your family and your Prince against all that?”

“I can,” Fallon said defiantly, although all his earlier fears were roaring at him.

“How good are you with a sword?”

“I train every day,” he boasted.

“Anyone can do that. Are you good though?”

“Good enough,” Fallon insisted.

“Show me. I am charged with the Prince’s life. I have to know that it is in safe hands with you.”

Fallon was torn between a feeling that Eamon was trying to set him up and the gut instinct that said most, if not all of what he was saying was true.

“Show you how?”

“Talk to the Prince. Listen to what he says. I have told you the truth – ask him any questions you want. And if it looks like I have been telling the truth, come meet me with practice swords. Show me you are good enough.”

A little voice inside Fallon’s head said he should walk past Eamon and go and see the Prince. Even if the bodyguard spent the next ten years hating him, that didn’t matter, as long as he was serving Cavan. Then he just got angry. At himself, at Bridgit, at Eamon. At being given this fantastic chance and now doubting it.

“Let’s do it now,” Fallon said.

Eamon looked startled for a moment, then smiled. “Excellent idea. Let’s see if your friend can provide us with a pair of swords.”

Hagen was less than enthusiastic. “Are you mad? The man’s been chosen to protect the Crown Prince because he’s one of the best bladesmen in the land. You don’t stand a chance against him!”

“Thanks for your support,” Fallon said drily.

“You know what I mean! But fighting him doesn’t prove anything. Go and see the Prince: he’ll put him in his place.”

“I have to know. And although he might be an arsehole, he’s right. I’m going to have to draw my sword to protect the Prince. I have to know I can do this.”

“You’ll have a score of young idiots to do it for you by then. Come on, man, surely you’ve got past the stage where you feel the need to drop your trews and show everyone how big a cock you have.”

Fallon smiled. “Seems I haven’t,” he said lightly. Now Padraig’s words came back to him. This was his dream, yes, but better to find out now if it was a nightmare.

Hagen sighed. “Is your mind made up?”

“I don’t have to beat him. I just have to give him a challenge, show him I am worthy of guarding the Prince.”

“Well, I still think you’re a fool but I can’t stop you falling off a cliff,” Hagen said with a shake of his head. “Come on, then.”

To the side of the manor house was a training area, a flat piece of grass marked off with small flags. Hagen unlocked a small shed and came back with a pair of wooden practice swords. They were identical and Fallon took one, feeling how the hilt had been worn smooth by years of use. They were heavy; like the knife he’d given Kerrin they had iron cores for weight.

Fallon loosened his wrist and shoulder with a series of practice strokes, feeling good about his strength and skill, then he saw Eamon. The bodyguard was moving around the area smoothly, practice sword flashing as he sent it around his head and body in a series of dazzling cuts.

“Fallon, he’s fifteen years younger and obviously trains every day. I don’t think you should do this,” Hagen said softly.

“Too late now. I have to,” Fallon said. Turning back would be impossible. He might as well ride back to Baltimore as ignore this challenge. He doubted he could win, although he reckoned he could get in one touch, if he put everything into it. That was all he wanted – a chance to show Eamon that he would not back down. Even if the bodyguard hated him, he would have to respect him. He warmed up, running from side to side, until he could feel his muscles stretch and loosen. Even ten years earlier he would have walked out and begun right away but, from bitter experience, he knew he had to warm and stretch or he would be stiff and slow in the fight and suffering the next day.

“Ready?” he called.

“Whenever you are,” Eamon said, walking quickly to the centre of the little arena.

“Best of five touches and no hits to the head, or you are disqualified, understand?” Hagen called, a touch of anxiety in his voice.

“Don’t worry, this is just a friendly bout. I’m not here to hurt you, Fallon, just show you what is needed to serve the Prince,” Eamon said.

Fallon touched the tip of his blade to Eamon’s and circled around to his left, the weight on the balls of his feet, eyes locked into the bodyguard to read the man’s moves there.

Eamon had a lazy smile on his face but his eyes were blank, as if his attention were elsewhere. Fallon found that disquieting but concentrated on what he knew. He had always done well in these bouts when he was training, using a combination of speed and strength to overcome the other youths. Only Hagen had been able to stand with him. More recently, he had faced down a number of thieves and poachers.
You can do this. Show this arrogant bastard how good you are
, he told himself.

Then Eamon leaped to the attack. He raised his sword high and Fallon moved, sword rising as his muscles remembered the thousands of times he had practiced this parry. Then Eamon’s sword whipped down, changing angles in the blink of an eye, whistling down towards his ribs. Fallon spun away, sword desperately coming down to block the blow. He didn’t manage it, but his desperate spin made Eamon miss too, the sword merely brushing his tunic.

Fallon tried to turn, knowing he could not stay with his back to Eamon for more than a heartbeat, but it was too late – Eamon followed up and his sword slapped across Fallon’s lower back, flinging him forwards and onto the ground.

“Hey!” Hagen cried from the side.

Fallon got up gingerly and picked up his sword. “It was a fair blow. I should not have turned my back,” he said, a little breathlessly.

“Ready?” Eamon asked.

Fallon stretched, knowing he was going to have a huge bruise across his back tomorrow, but he would not give the bastard the satisfaction of knowing how much it hurt. “Why, are you getting tired?” he asked, pasting a grin across his face.

Next moment Eamon sprang to the attack again, his sword flickering like a snake’s tongue. He chopped from the left then whipped his sword back in a reverse cut as Fallon moved to block. Fallon’s feet felt heavy as he desperately parried, ducked and weaved, watching Eamon dance around him, as elusive as a wisp of smoke. There was no question of trying to strike back – he was just trying to survive.

He took a thump across the ribs that would have disemboweled him in real life, gritted his teeth and came forwards once more.
I’m going to get this arrogant prick if it’s the last thing I do
, he swore.

Eamon’s sword lunged at his throat and he swayed aside, then had to beat off a cut that whistled at his ear – only for the swordsman to twist his wrists and send the blade down to slap across Fallon’s right leg, where it would have opened up the big artery and let him bleed to death.

“That’s three! That’s the end!” Hagen shouted.

“Let’s try for a couple more. I’m just getting warmed up,” Fallon said defiantly, ignoring the pain from his leg, ribs and back.

“I’m happy to keep going if you are,” Eamon offered.

In reply, Fallon charged forwards. He had given up any idea of winning this bout. It was obvious Eamon had skills he could only dream about. Maybe twenty years earlier he might have matched the man’s speed but he had never been able to put together so many moves at once. He felt clumsy and useless against the man. Eamon’s sword was able to move in flickering patterns, slicing apart his defenses. But this was only a practice bout, so he could risk a killing blow to get in close and hit Eamon back. He didn’t care that in battle you could never take such a risk. He was just consumed by the need to hit Eamon.

He raced in, happy to take the bodyguard’s best shot in exchange for putting one on the arrogant bastard. He planned to ram his sword into Eamon’s ribs, so he would have the memory of this bout for the next few days, at least.

But Eamon danced away, slipping sideways in a way Fallon would have thought impossible if he had not seen it. Instead of Fallon’s blade finding the meaty thunk of Eamon’s ribs, it swished through thin air and then Eamon’s sword was at his throat, forcing Fallon to skid to a halt to stop himself running into it.