The Last Quarrel (The Complete Edition) (28 page)

“And what is that?” the Prince inquired.

“Turn this ship around and take us home, and I promise my husband won’t slowly rip your guts out and then hang you with them.”

Her challenge hung in the air for long, long moments and, out of the corner of her eyes, she could see horrified expressions on several faces.

The Prince, however, merely chuckled. “I appreciate your spirit. You are the first of your countrymen to really fight back. You injured three of my men and nearly killed another, while I see you have given a black eye to a fifth. Very impressive. But understand this.” He leaned forwards on his throne now and his eyes lost their amusement. “We are sailing back to Kotterman. Even if your husband knew where to come, you will soon be part of our great Empire. We have more ships and soldiers than you can imagine. And you think one man can do anything against that? He would have to be the biggest fool in Gaelland to try anything.”

“Believe me, he will always do the thing we think most foolish – and he always makes it work.”

“So he plans to sail after you in what? A fishing boat? With a handful of friends?”

“He will arrive with more than that. One of his friends is the Crown Prince of Gaelland himself. He wanted Fallon to be his captain of guards,” Bridgit said coldly. “He will go to Berry and force the King to stop you.”

But Kemal merely chuckled, shaking his head gently. “Do you really think we would have been doing this without the permission of the Crown? We did not steal you. You were sold to us by your nobility. That is how much help your husband will receive.”

Bridgit wanted to shout at him, to deny that could be true. But she had the horrible feeling he was right. The likes of Duchess Dina and Prince Cavan might be honorable enough, but who knew what went on at Berry, with the corrupt Guilds and the greedy King?

“It makes no difference. He will come anyway. And nothing can stop him,” she said, partly to boost herself but also feeling a warm glow inside at the thought.

“Then he will die. So you need to put thoughts of rescue out of your mind and instead concentrate on what you need to do to survive. You may not have children yourself but there are many others you can help.”

Bridgit heard the steel in his voice and decided that convincing him how crazy Fallon was should wait for another day. She also heard his words about her not having children and almost fell to the deck sobbing with relief. Kerrin had escaped! They had not found him! She had saved him! She would not let any of that show on her face, however. She had grown used to keeping her thoughts from her face so as not to alarm Kerrin. Now she would use it to beat these bastards. She had tricked them once to save her child. She would do so again to save more.

“You would be a fool to get rid of us,” she said briskly. “We are the hardest workers in the village. You want cooks or cleaners? You won’t find better. And we can do that and look after the small children as well. In a few years, those children will be worth a great deal to you.” She paused, thinking fast to remember the tales her father had told about the big Guilds in Berry. “Would you throw silvers overboard, or would you put them with a banker and wait for them to turn into gold?”

Kemal stroked his beard again, although his smile was back in place and his eyes were no longer flashing. “You speak words of truth. So be it. I shall keep them and I shall also put all those in with you under your control and responsibility.”

“Me?” Bridgit asked, genuinely surprised for the first time in their conversation. “Why would they listen to me?”

Kemal smiled broadly, showing even teeth, white against his darker skin. “Because you speak words of sense. Words they will listen to if they come out of your mouth rather than mine.”

Bridgit shook her head. “But I’m just a village wife. Surely it would sound better coming from the Duke of Lunster!”

“Perhaps. But I don’t have the Duke of Lunster. I have you, instead.”

Bridgit stared at the handsome Prince, wondering if this was some game or if she had found out a terrible secret. “But his ship was attacked. That was the thing that started all this.”

“I do not know of the Duke of Lunster. And certainly none of the men we took called themselves such. But that does not affect what we have here. If you want me to keep the children, you must look after them.”

Bridgit swallowed heavily. This was not what she wanted! For years now her whole world had been Kerrin and, to a lesser extent, Fallon and her father. It had all been about looking after them, not after herself. She waited for the familiar swamp of her anxieties, but it didn’t come. She had no family to fret over: perhaps that was why she had at last stopped fretting. That thought was a dagger to the heart but she had to push it aside. Those children and their mothers needed her. And she would do whatever it took to avoid seeing children and perhaps dozens of her people killed to prove a point.

“I will look after them,” she said.

“Good,” Kemal said. “This talk is over. You need to return below.”

“Wait! We need food – the children need food,” she said hurriedly, as her guards moved in.

Kemal hesitated a moment, then signaled. “I shall have some sent there. But do not mistake my kindness for weakness. I will tolerate no more violence from you, nor any more displays of insolence to try and gain what you want. Cross me and you shall pay the price.”

“If you want my help, then you need to treat me with respect,” she fired back.

For a moment she thought she had gone too far, then he nodded sharply, once. “We have an agreement then. See it is not broken,” he said.

With a wave of his hand she was dismissed, and escorted back to the cabin. A basket of strange, flat bread and a pitcher of water were thrust into her arms as she stepped through the door and the children fell upon them with shrieks of excitement. The babies could eat none of it, but surely their mothers had to wake up soon and they could feed then.

She helped tear the bread up for them to eat but her mind was racing. Just what was going on? And how could she get word of it to Fallon?

“Hurry! Come on, get aboard!” Fallon shouted, urging on the last few men.

They were all fired up with the thought they could get their families back. Fallon knew that doubts would grow as the days went on but that was a problem for later. Then he saw Brendan walking across with his biggest hammer over one shoulder. He was worried about his big friend. The smith had been inconsolable.

“Do you need that, Brendan? We’re not going near a forge.” He patted the smith on the shoulder.

“I’ll be using this on the bastards who took Nola and the kids.” He hefted the hammer, his mouth a thin line, his eyes hard.

Fallon looked at the heavy wooden head tipped with iron, and shuddered.

“I thought you didn’t like to hurt people,” he said cautiously.

“That’s all changed,” Brendan said flatly. “They’re going to pay for what they did.”

Fallon watched his friend walk away and felt a sudden fear of what this chase was going to do to them all. Others had also stopped and he waved at them. “That’s it, keep moving! We must catch the tide!” he urged them.

“There’s still the Sister,” Devlin said, pointing back up the shingle bank to where Rosaleen kneeled, facing the empty village.

“Right,” Fallon said grimly. “Listen, can you try and cheer Brendan up a little, maybe tell him a joke or two?”

“No,” Devlin said flatly. “I don’t feel like laughing.”

He brushed past Fallon and headed for the ship. The sergeant cursed and headed off to see Rosaleen, Kerrin at his heels as he had been all morning. At first it had been reassuring to look around and see him there but now it was getting a little annoying. There were things he needed to say that were not for Kerrin’s ears. For instance he wanted to swear at the men and drive them on, but had to keep biting back on his words. Not that he could say anything to Kerrin. The boy had been through a nightmare. Fallon could not get the image out of his head of Bridgit hiding Kerrin in the tool chest, taking his old practice sword and then going out to meet their attackers. How could he have left her alone to face them like that? He had sworn to Aroaril to keep her safe. Then she had begged him not to go. Yet, like a fool, he had thought he was smarter than their attackers. He had walked right into their trap and offered Baltimore up like a prize. He had seen farmers’ sons with purses of silver act less foolishly at county fairs. He thought he was so clever. And what if he had gone before Prince Cavan and pushed to be his captain or even declared he needed to serve the Duchess. Either way the three of them would have been out of Baltimore last night and safely together. He could have saved them if only he had listened to Bridgit and he could have at least saved her if he had done things differently. If only … Fallon shook his head angrily, trying to clear his mind of those thoughts.

“Sister! The tide is leaving and we must go with it!” he said briskly.

Rosaleen had her eyes closed and her hands clasped together. She stayed like that for a few more moments, then stood up slowly.

“Were you praying for guidance?” Fallon asked. “Did Aroaril reveal where we should go, or where our families were taken?”

“He does not work like that. And I would not presume to ask for such help. I was praying for the village, to keep safe the souls stolen from it and the ones who will go hunting for them,” she said sadly.

“Pray for mercy for those who took them. Because when I catch up with them I will show them none,” Fallon snarled.

Rosaleen stood and placed her hand on his arm. “It was not your fault. Do not let your guilt blind you or lead you into anger. It is a very dark path you have chosen.”

“And what does that mean?” Fallon asked sourly. “Did you get some message from above?”

Rosaleen shrugged. “I don’t know. I merely have a feeling that this will not be a simple chase. I loved many of those taken but it may be safer, simpler and kinder to many of us to turn away.”

“I cannot do that,” Fallon said instantly.

Rosaleen smiled. “I know. And I shall be there until the end, whatever that end might be.”

Fallon sighed. “Can you just tell me what is going on please, Sister? I have had the worst morning of my life and am not in the mood for mystery and strange portents. If you know something, tell me!”

“I wish it were that simple. I feel that Aroaril wants to get involved in this: Zorva is behind much of what is plaguing Gaelland. But Aroaril never tells us what to do. Zorva orders his worshippers and they must obey or face the consequences. Aroaril just gives us choices and lets us make our own decisions, based on what is in our hearts.”

“He wouldn’t like to see what’s in my heart right now,” Fallon said. “But does this mean we can tell the men that Aroaril has blessed this hunt and is with us?”

“You can tell them what you want. It might even be true. But I don’t think Gallagher will like the idea of Aroaril’s hand on the tiller beside his.”

“Aye, there is that.” Fallon almost smiled. Almost. “But if He wants us to stop Zorva, why doesn’t He give us help?”

“He might. Or He might not. Remember, He has given us the freedom to choose the path of our lives. That is His greatest gift.”

“Well, we do face a choice. Keep talking and miss the tide, or get on that ship and begin the hunt for our families.”

“Then lead on,” Rosaleen sighed. “And may Aroaril have mercy on all our souls.”

“Lunster!”

The cry from the masthead jerked Fallon from a fitful sleep. He had been dreaming of Bridgit. Unlike most of his dreams about her, which usually involved her naked, she had this time been running through the village, chased by a mob of faceless attackers. He had known she was there, wanted to find her, but even though he was running through streets he knew like the back of his hand, he kept getting lost. He blinked himself awake and wondered if that was a message from above or just the result of not sleeping the night before.

“Hey, Fallon, your son’s a natural. Far better than you are at steering a ship.’ Gallagher called, then continued to Kerrin: “Did I tell you of the time I gave him the steering oar and he nearly put us on the rocks?”

Fallon rolled to his knees, groaning a little at the way his shoulder creaked from lying on a hard deck, to see Kerrin holding the thick tiller with Gallagher.

“That was because you weren’t rowing straight,” Fallon replied without thinking, and squinted to his left towards the thick pall of cooking-fire smoke that marked Lunster. He joined Gallagher and Kerrin at the tiller, patting his son on the shoulder.

“The boy is a natural,” Gallagher repeated. “I’d be happy to have him work aboard my boat any time.”

“You might but I think Bridgit might have something to say about that –” The words were out of Fallon’s mouth before he could stop himself.

The three of them studiously looked elsewhere for a few moments.

“Have you had any sleep?” Fallon asked Gallagher.

“Not yet. Most of these lads couldn’t find Lunster. Let’s face it, most of them couldn’t find their own arse without both hands and a long list of instructions. We’d have ended up in Londegal or something if I’d let them have the tiller.”

Kerrin giggled at that and Fallon smiled.

“You have to tell them to keep it straight, not wave it around like it’s their staff and they’re having a piss,” he said.

Kerrin burst out with shocked laughter and Fallon grimaced. He was so used to speaking freely with his friends. He would have to remember to watch his tongue.

“Rest when we get into port. I’ll take Devlin and Gannon into town and find Hagen. Once he realizes what’s happened, we’ll round up everyone who knew about our plan and then get Rosaleen and Padraig to talk to them, see if they can detect any lies. But, if I have to, I’ll drag one or two of them underneath this ship’s hull. Once the others see what that does to a man, they’ll talk soon enough,” Fallon said.

“What does it do to a man, Dad?” Kerrin piped up.

Fallon felt like slapping himself in the head. “Hurts them really badly,” he said shortly. “Are you warm enough? Do you need a jacket from your bag? Are you hungry?”

“The lad’s fine, Fallon,” Gallagher said. “But now you mention it, I could do with some bacon and eggs.”

Fallon burrowed in the pack he had brought and tossed a hunk of bread up. “Best I can do,” he said.

He left Gallagher tearing into the bread and looked down the main deck. Most of the men were sprawled asleep, worn out by the sleepless night and then the morning’s terrible discovery. Meanwhile, a scatter of boats were still out fishing and he could see a dozen sails as others headed in to Lunster harbor, hoping to get there before night closed in and they became a target for the mysterious raiders. A bunch of them were sailing close together and Fallon wondered if that was some new tactic for escaping the attacks. It would not do to get caught up behind them. That many ships in Lunster’s enclosed harbor might mean they would not get to shore until well after dark, giving the suspects a chance to slip away once they saw the Duke’s ship in the harbor. Even after the alterations it was unmistakable to the locals and as good as announcing that they were there to hunt for the traitor.

“Devlin!” He waved down at his friend, who was talking with Sister Rosaleen. “Go look in the stern cabin, see if the Duke’s flag is in there. If we’re flying that, it’ll get us into the harbor far faster.”

Devlin disappeared inside and came back with the Duke’s standard of a fish jumping over a ship. They ran it up the mast, where it fluttered at the top, clearly visible from a mile away.

“Now just steer like the Duke’s man would – straight in to the berth and ignore everyone else in your way,” Fallon said with satisfaction.

“Easier said than done,” Gallagher muttered.

They kept the sails up and the ship bore down on the harbor entrance arrogantly. Fishermen took one glance at them and got out of the way, while the merchants’ trading vessels held their course longer but swung away quickly once they saw the Duke’s flag. The harbor pilot boat rushed out as the ship sailed in – and then struggled to get out of the way when they saw the Duke’s flag.

“Drop the sails!” Gallagher roared down the deck.

The sails came in and the ship slowed, following the pilot boat as it rowed desperately towards the Duke’s berth, the prime spot on the wharves. With his customary skill, Gallagher snapped orders to the rowers and then swung the tiller at just the right moment, and the Duke’s ship swung in to kiss wharf lightly. Ropes were thrown down fore and aft and the ship made fast quickly.

“Nice work,” Fallon patted Gallagher on the shoulder. “Now get some sleep.”

“I think I might,” Gallagher said.

Fallon dropped to one knee beside Kerrin. “Son, I need to go ashore and speak to my friend Captain Hagen and the Duchess of Lunster. No children will be allowed. But you will be with Grandfather Padraig, as well as Uncle Brendan and Uncle Gallagher.”

“Less of the uncle. I’m not as old as you fools,” Gallagher said from where he was already curling up on the deck, head resting on the bag of spare clothes he had brought with him.

“Can’t I come?” Kerrin pleaded.

“I’m sorry, son. But there will be plenty of friends here.”

“We can teach Caley a few new tricks,” Padraig suggested. “That’ll be fun. And I’ll show you magic. You might even know a little of it yourself. Your mother used to be able to do a few things when she was younger.”

“Really?” Kerrin brightened immediately.

Fallon patted him on the shoulder, winked at Padraig and hurried down to the ship’s rail, where both Devlin and Brendan were waiting for him.

“I’m coming with you,” the big smith said, his hammer held over one shoulder.

“Are you sure? You might have to use that if you do,” Fallon warned.

“Good,” Brendan said flatly.

Fallon and Devlin exchanged a look. “I’ll keep an eye on things here,” the farmer said quietly.

Fallon nodded and turned to see Gannon hurrying over.

“All my men should come. We were sent to accompany you and that task is done,” Gannon said. “And half your men are looking at mine as if we were the ones to steal their families.”

“They stay here until we’ve seen Hagen and got some answers. They’ll be safe. Nobody will harm them. But if we let them all off the ship and one is the traitor, he could slip away into the town. Which means I’d have to bring a score of villagers along to watch for that and then it’ll look like we’re an armed invasion,” Fallon said.

“But I still think –”

“They stay here. You can either agree with it or I’ll throw you all into the hold. Your choice.”

Gannon sighed. “Let’s go and see Hagen,” he said.

That short delay had allowed the harbor master and a guard of honor to rush over to welcome the Duke home.

They received a rude surprise when they pushed a polished set of steps up against the rail and Fallon, Brendan and Gannon stepped off. Fallon had his tunic on, although it was rumpled from sleeping on it, and Gannon was also in uniform, but Brendan looked like some angry barbarian, a picture completed by the giant hammer he held over one shoulder.

The harbor master, a plump man with a thin moustache and a self-important manner, recoiled swiftly at the sight of them. “But where is the Duke?” he spluttered.

“Aroaril knows. But we have a few clues, which is why we need to speak to the Duchess,” Fallon said, without breaking stride.

“But how dare you sail the Duke’s ship in without permission! Remove it at once or pay the price!” the harbor master blustered, trotting to keep up with Fallon.

Fallon stopped in an instant and turned on the harbor master, grabbing the man’s rich red tunic.

“It stays. And if you try and do anything foolish you will stay also. As its anchor. Understand?”

“You can’t treat me like this!” the man squeaked.

Fallon tightened his grip, hauling the shorter man up until his toes were barely touching the ground. A pair of guards took a step forwards – but stopped immediately when Brendan loomed over them, dropping his huge hammer so it tapped into his other hand.

“The fate of this county, maybe the kingdom, rests of what we have to say. So either get out of my way or I shall step over your bleeding corpse,” Fallon growled.