The Last Quarrel (The Complete Edition) (26 page)

The lid on the chest closed with a snap, plunging him into complete darkness. Kerrin had always been afraid of the dark and was only ever able to sleep because he knew all he had to do was open an eye to see the reassuring glow of the fire’s embers. The night had seemed dark before but there had been the glow of the moon and stars, as well as the lights of the fires inside all the village homes casting little pools of brightness. Even with the coarse sacking and pile of tools and wooden swords over him, enough of that had filtered in so he could see still Mam’s face.

But when she closed the lid and began walking away, shouting, he was in complete darkness. It was all he could do not to scream for help, to fight his way clear of the muddy hole, the moldy sacking and rancid smell of the oil that Dad used to protect the metal edges of his tools.

He could not stop his heart pounding and he fought for breath, dreading the thought that the next time the lid would open, rough claws would reach for him and haul him out. This was his worst nightmares come to life. He had to get out of there: he had to run to Mam. She would give him a hug and keep him safe.

Except how could she defeat monsters? Dad could do that but he wasn’t there. His tears came and he reached up, wanting to get out. He could imagine bugs and worms crawling around the dirt, getting into his hair and his ears and he could not stand it. He reached up, only for Caley to nudge him in the cheek and lick his face. He felt her breath, warm and reassuring, in his ear and she made a tiny noise in her throat, a little whimper.

“It’s all right, girl. We’ll be safe here. Nobody will ever find us,” he whispered, feeling better as he said the words. This was a clever hiding place. Dad had said he would be safe if anyone ever came and Mam knew it as well. He hugged Caley close.

Outside he could hear shrieks and shouts, as well as a few screams. Each time he heard one he clutched Caley tighter, feeling his heart pound faster. But the noises seemed to grow less and less.

Next moment he jumped as he heard their front door bang open. For one glorious moment he thought Dad was home but then he heard the voices, guttural and harsh, speaking strange words he could not understand. Not selkies?
People?
They paced around the house, he could hear them, then they came outside. The words made no sense but he could hear they sounded angry and vicious. He did not need to close his eyes to imagine they would be evil.

Footfalls came closer and he froze in fear. Next to him, he could feel Caley tense up, and he was scared for her. He wrapped his arms around her. “Don’t move,” he whispered into her ear.

Next moment the lid was pulled up and he wanted to scream but he had no voice – and then the lid was dropped again and the footsteps moved away.

Both boy and dog relaxed a little, Caley nudging him under the chin.

“We’ll stay here and maybe Mam will come get us,” he murmured, and she made a soft sound in the back of her throat.

The noises died away until there was only silence in the village.

Kerrin’s legs were stiff and sore now and he twisted a little, trying to be quiet and not disturb the tools resting on the sacking above.

The silence stretched out and out but he dared not get up, although he dearly wanted to. Part of that was the fear that one of the attackers would be waiting there, just ready to pounce on him, wicked claws at the ready. Part of it was because Mam had said he had to stay there until Dad came for him and, after she had yelled at him over the broken lid, he desperately wanted to make her happy. But mostly it was because he was afraid he would find nobody. If he closed his eyes and hugged Caley tight, he could believe that Mam was going to come and get him, hold him close and sing to him. If he got out and the village was empty, his house quiet as the grave, then she really would be gone. And he did not know how he could live with that.

Kerrin hugged Caley close, closed his eyes and prayed with all his heart.

He must have fallen into sort of a doze, because now there was a faint light seeping from under the ill-fitting lid of the chest, which struggled to make it through the rough sacking but was still better than the darkness of before.

Somebody was yelling. In fact lots of people were yelling. It was hard to make out the names, everything was blurring and he was desperately afraid it was some sort of trap to get him, so he stayed where he was, hugging Caley tighter than before.

Then he heard Caley make a sort of chuffing noise, the way she did when she was excited, and her tail, which had been curled beneath them, began wagging as furiously as it could in so little space.

Fallon was making so much noise he barely heard it. It was a rhythmic thump, seemingly nothing against the backdrop of men shouting out the names of their missing loved ones. But it penetrated the blackness in his head and he realized what it might be.

“Caley!” he bellowed, eyes sweeping around the familiar room and seeing nothing. Then he remembered and tore out of the house, racing around to the back and the weapons chest.

He did not bother with opening the lid and taking out the tools. Instead he grabbed the box and hurled it aside, the weight nothing against the wild hope that filled him.

“Kerrin!” he howled, as the small figure and the dog were revealed, the dog’s tail still thumping into the wooden foundations of the house.

“Dad!”

Kerrin released Caley and the dog jumped up and around them as father and son fell into each other’s arms, Kerrin crying as if he could not stop and Fallon sobbing like a man driven to the very edge.

Gallagher found them first. Fallon was dimly aware of him calling to others, until there was a huge circle of grief-stricken men staring as Fallon held his son tight, unwilling to let him go.

“Fallon! There’s nobody here,” Devlin said, his voice hoarse. “Kerrin is the only one. Only he can tell us what happened.”

Fallon wiped his eyes on his sleeve, hawked and spat to clear his throat. “Nothing? Nobody in the fields or woods?” he asked raggedly.

“Nothing,” Gallagher said grimly. “There’re more signs of fighting but nothing, not a dog nor a child anywhere else. All the livestock’s gone too.”

“How did they do it? How could they take everyone? By the time they were halfway through the village, people should have been running for the woods,” Devlin said. “And how did Kerrin and Caley escape when others did not? We have to know.”

“I can answer that. They were hidden beneath my old tool chest. I dug them a space there when Kerrin was having nightmares. I never thought it would be used –”

“So you made sure your family was safe and took the rest of us out there?” Murphy accused from the crowd.

“Bridgit was taken!” Fallon snarled, jumping to his feet, eager to take his fear and anger out on someone.

“Nobody is saying you planned this, nor even that you knew anything we didn’t. We just need to know what happened,” Devlin boomed, striding over to stand in front of Murphy. “Isn’t that right?”

Murphy raised his hand in a sort-of apology. “Aye. We just want our families back,” he said raggedly.

Fallon nodded slowly and looked around the sea of faces, seeing the desperation on all of them. He waved everyone down. “Sit! He’s not going to talk like this,” he said.

Reluctantly at first, then quicker, they sat down, leaning inwards, straining to hear what Kerrin had to say.

Fallon wiped his son’s face and released him from his arms slowly. “Tell us what happened, son. Start from the very beginning.”

Kerrin looked around at the staring, expectant men and looked helplessly up at Fallon.

“Kerrin, we have to know,” Fallon said roughly.

He silently appealed to his son, who shook his head mutely, his whole body shaking. His relief at finding the lad was turning to frustration, along with the feeling that Murphy was not the only one thinking Fallon had told the village they were the hunters, not the prey, yet had dug a hiding place for his son.

“Kerrin, talk!” he urged angrily.

A hand on his shoulder made him turn furiously, to see Padraig there, his face drawn and haggard.

“Bring him inside the house. I’ll make sure he’s heard out here. The lad’s been through the fires of Zorva. Aroaril knows what he has seen. Yelling at him won’t help,” he said softly.

Fallon was about to yell at the old wizard but stopped himself just in time. It was a strange time when the village fool was the one making the most sense. “Come on,” he said, picking up his son with a grunt and carrying him around, Caley at his heels.

“Give us a few moments. We’ll get the truth and make sure you hear it,” Padraig appealed.

Fallon kicked the door open and set Kerrin down. His son held tight to his leg, burrowing his face into Fallon’s stomach. “What do I do?” he asked Padraig.

“What would Bridgit do? The boy’s had the shock of his life,” the old wizard said.

Fallon picked up Kerrin again, cursing the way his back twanged warningly, and put him down in Bridgit’s chair.

“Get him a cup of milk and pass those biscuits across.” Fallon pointed.

Padraig sniffed the milk, shrugged and poured some out into a cup, then carried over the jar with the broken lid.

“Here you go, son. You must be cold and hungry,” Fallon said encouragingly.

But Kerrin’s hands were shaking so hard he would have spilt the milk if the cup had had more in it, while the clay cup clinked against his teeth. Fallon bit his words back, took a deep breath to quench his frustration and reached out and helped Kerrin sip some of the milk, then took back the cup and held out the jar of biscuits, the broken lid on the floor.

Kerrin took one look at the jar and tears began to spill from his eyes again. “I’m sorry,” he whispered.

“That’s all right. If you’re not hungry, then don’t have one,” Fallon said.

Kerrin shook his head slowly.

Fallon looked at the floor, then up at Padraig, knowing his face had to be showing his frustration at not being able to get through to the boy.

The old wizard waved angrily at him, pointing back at Kerrin.

Fallon shook his head and tried again. Caley was nudging in at his side, a mute appeal in her eyes, so he picked her up and plopped her onto the chair beside Kerrin. Instantly the dog nuzzled into the boy and Kerrin stroked her fur convulsively.

“Why are you sorry? There’s nothing to be sorry about,” Fallon said gently.

Kerrin pointed at the jar. “I broke the lid and Mam shouted at me,” he whispered.

Fallon glanced over at Padraig, who nodded encouragingly.

“I’m sure she wasn’t angry at you. She was probably angry at me but I wasn’t here to yell at,” he said.

“Caley and I were hungry,” Kerrin explained.

“Caley told you that?” Fallon said critically, before he could stop himself.

“She tells me things all the time – she was the one who told us the raiders were here,” Kerrin explained.

Fallon glanced over at Padraig, who nodded approvingly. “What happened?”

And slowly the story came out, bit by bit, with Fallon helping things along the way. He saw how Kerrin’s hands twisted in Caley’s fur when the story got hard and so he reached out to add his own, although the child seemed happier embracing the dog.

Then he forgot about that as the story came out, spilling faster and faster. How there was a huge ship in the harbor and dark shapes going from house to house and more shapes in the fields, blocking any escape, how Bridgit had hidden him and then he had cowered in the cold and darkness, with just Caley for company. He had fallen asleep when all had gone quiet, waking only when he heard the shouts but too frightened to come out.

“You did the right thing. You did what Mam wanted you to. She would be very proud of you,” Fallon said, fighting to keep his voice from breaking. Kerrin was safe but Bridgit gone. The ache of that was like a knife in the guts. They had parted in anger – what if he never saw her again?

“Dad, Mam’s going to come back, isn’t she?” Kerrin asked hesitantly.

Fallon looked at his son through the tears in his eyes. He forced a smile to his face.

“We are going to get her back. We are going to get them all back,” he swore. His mind cleared even as he said it. All of his other problems were gone. Nothing mattered but hunting down whoever did this. Whatever it took, wherever it took him, he would do it. He would not rest until she was in his arms and he could tell her how sorry he was.

“We will get her back,” he repeated, this time with iron in his voice. “Now, wait here while I go and talk to –”

“No!” Kerrin cried, reaching out to throw his arms around Fallon’s neck. “Don’t leave me!”

“I’ll just be outside. You can hear my voice –”

“No! I can’t be on my own. Not again.” Kerrin shook his head, his bottom lip quivering, more tears threatening to spill from his eyes.

Fallon reached up and hugged him close. “Then come with me, stand with me,” he said gently.

Kerrin put his hands out to be picked up but Fallon merely helped him onto his feet.

“If I’m going to be strong enough to get back your mam, I can’t be holding you. You have to stand with me, understand?” he said gently.

Kerrin looked doubtful but Fallon put his arm around his son’s shoulders. “Just like this,” he said. “How does that feel?”

“Better,” Kerrin admitted.

They walked out to see a mixture of emotions on the men of the village. Some were slumped on the ground, weeping, others looked like they were ready to fight, while most simply looked stunned, unable to believe what had happened.

“We don’t have any time to waste,” Fallon bellowed, his voice hoarse at first but getting stronger, getting the attention of all but the handful completely lost in their grief.

“We don’t know where they went. We could be chasing around the sea forever and they would just be laughing at us,” Devlin pointed out.

“We won’t be chasing after them. We’re going to Lunster,” Fallon said grimly.

“Lunster? What’s there for us in Lunster?” Murphy demanded, pushing forwards through the crowd of men.

“Answers. We were betrayed. They knew where we were from and they had planned to hit Baltimore. This was no random attack. They landed boats up the river and then came at the village from all sides. Devlin is right – we could run around the sea for moons on end and never get any closer to finding them, even with Padraig’s help. But someone is in contact with them. We find that one and we have a way to find them.”

“How are we going to get them to tell us?” Murphy asked.

“We start skinning them. I will hurt the bastard behind this so badly that he will beg to tell me where to find these secret raiders,” Fallon promised, looking around. None doubted him.

“What if it’s one of those guards on board the ship?” Gallagher asked.

“We’ll wait until I’ve spoken to Hagen. We’re going to get every person who knew what we planned and then it will be time to start sharpening our knives. Those bastards out there think they have just pulled off their biggest success, got away with a couple of hundred women and children. But they’ve made their first mistake,” Fallon said, his voice shaking with anger.

He looked around and saw the doubt on faces. “We don’t have anything to fear any more. But they are going to fear us,” he swore.

Now they were all looking up and he could see their anger.

“We have done our weeping. We shall take back what is ours and make them beg for mercy, make them wish they had never sacked Baltimore!”

“Aye!” Devlin, Brendan and Murphy shouted, echoed a moment later by a score of others.

“We’ve seen that our families fought back. They were the only ones to do that. Now we shall take the fight to them!”

“Hunt them down and kill them!” someone called out, which was greeted with a chorus of bloodthirsty approval.

“We will not stop until our families and friends are back!” Fallon punched his fist into the air.

They roared his words back at him and he could feel the mood changing dramatically. Gone was the grief and in its place a lust for revenge.

“Gather food and weapons, whatever you have, and get down to the ship. We shall sail within a turn of the hourglass. And if those bastards think to add us to their haul, they had better pray for a quick death when we find them!”

The men hurried away and Fallon was left with just Kerrin and Padraig.

“Did you mean all that, Dad? That we are going to get Mam back?” Kerrin asked nervously.

“Oh yes,” Fallon said, clenching his fist so tightly he felt his nails digging into his palm. “Those bastards will wish they had never heard of Baltimore. Now come on, help me pack some food.”

“Can I take some of my models with me?”

Fallon was about to refuse but then saw the misery on his son’s face. The boy had lost Bridgit and didn’t even have the comfort of anger to help him. “Only what you can fit in a bag. A small bag, mind you!”

He guided Kerrin back inside the house and glanced up at Padraig as the boy raced off to pick his favorites.

“Fine words. But we don’t know we can get them back. Or in what condition they will be when they return. If they return,” Padraig said softly.

“Don’t talk like that. Don’t even think like that,” Fallon said, although he could not stop thinking of that. Women and children. What would they want them for? There was one obvious answer, especially if the worship of Zorva had anything to do with this. The children would be sacrificed, the women probably the same but raped first.

“You have to think it. These men are alive. You are alive; Kerrin is alive. You could make new lives for yourselves, start again,” Padraig shrugged.

“Are you mad, old man? Start again? Forget all about them? Pretend that your daughter is dead? Have you finally lost your wits?” Fallon snarled.

Padraig smiled sadly. “I wish I had. I wish I were not thinking of all that might go wrong. You realize the path you are choosing could well see both you and Kerrin dead. She sacrificed herself to protect him, thinking you would take care of him. I would not see that sacrifice go to waste.”

“And nor will it. But neither can I walk away when there is even the merest chance of getting her back. She is everything to me.”

Padraig put his arm around Fallon’s shoulders. “Good. Then I shall be there every step of the way. I have held back on magic all these years for fear of my weak heart, pretended to myself that it was lost. Nothing will stop me now. And if my death can bring her back into your lives, then I shall consider that a fair trade.”

“Oh no. I look forward to many more years being annoyed by you around the dinner table,” Fallon told him.

Padraig chuckled and went to help Kerrin put together as much food as they could carry. Fallon watched them, a smile pasted onto his face. Inside, however, he was alternately furious and fearful. Bridgit had been frightened of winter chills, the smell of Lunster and a hundred other small things. What would she be like now, faced with something truly terrifying?