The Last Quarrel (The Complete Edition) (12 page)

Fallon prepared to loose as the horseman tore past the fires – then he recognized the rider as Finnegan himself.

“What are you doing here man? We could have killed you!” he shouted, lowering his crossbow and trying to slow down his hammering heart.

Finnegan slowed to a stop. “You’re wasting your time here. They hit the Dermot farm, over the other side of the village. I went out there to warn them and found the place deserted, a meal left on the table,” he said harshly.

“But the Dermot farm’s tucked away behind a hill, not even visible from the sea. They’d have to anchor and then walk half a mile inland to get to it. It makes no sense!” Fallon said angrily.

“Or maybe they flew. But however they got there, Dermot, his missus and their three nippers are all gone,” Finnegan said.

Fallon spat in disgust.
Why would they bypass the Finnegan farm for Dermot’s place? It’s almost as if they knew of the trap waiting for them …

He shut those thoughts away for later. “Gather your stuff. We’ll walk back now. Tomorrow we’d better warn every farm within ten miles to move everything into Baltimore,” he said angrily.

“Do we still get that silver piece?” Padraig asked.

“Once you come with me to check out the Dermot place,” Fallon said. He was too angry to sleep now.
How did they find out about the trap? Is there some sort of traitor in our midst?
He looked around the men. He had known all of them for years and could not imagine them being a part of that – nor Sister Rosaleen, despite their much more recent acquaintance. But he resolved to keep an eye on a few of them anyway, just in case.

As Finnegan had said, the Dermot farm was empty of life. The beast sheds were deserted – the ragged collection of a couple of cows and pigs and a flock of chickens vanished into the night, along with the family of five. A bowl of stew and another of potatoes and cabbage sat congealing on the table, one plate dished up but the rest waiting for diners who would never arrive.

“It makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand up,” Devlin said, looking around the room.

“Well, I can’t feel any magic here. But I can tell you something,” Padraig said.

“What’s that?” Fallon demanded.

“His wife was a good cook,” the wizard said through a mouthful of cold stew. “This is bloody delicious!”

Fallon sighed. It was another dead end.

“What’s that?” Brendan said suddenly.

“This had better not be a bloody joke, because I’m not in the mood,” Fallon growled.

“If you would shut up, you’d hear there’s something scratching at the door!” the smith hissed.

They all froze and heard the rhythmic sound.

Fallon brought out his crossbow and wound back the string as quietly as he could, while signaling with his head for Brendan to move to the door and pull it open. Devlin and Gallagher drew weapons and spread out, while Padraig held up a wooden ladle threateningly and Sister Rosaleen brought her hands together, muttering a prayer to Aroaril.

Brendan adjusted the pot on his head and then jerked the door open, leaping back swiftly for such a big man.

Fallon brought his crossbow into his shoulder as he let out a breath, ready to loose at anything that stormed inside. Then he jerked up the crossbow with an oath.

“What?” Brendan asked.

“It’s a dog,” he said flatly.

“Are you sure? It might be a selkie, trying to trick us,” Devlin warned.

Fallon walked forwards and dropped to one knee. The dog advanced on him, wagging its tail, and he patted its head gently. It was a prime Gaelish sheepdog, probably three or four moons old, with a glossy black and white coat and a bushy tail. It held its head on the side, regarding him carefully, then licked his hand.

“It must have belonged to one of Dermot’s kids,” Fallon said. “It’s a lovely dog.”

He rubbed it around the ears and chest and it sat down happily, tongue lolling out. “Padraig, ladle out some of that stew for her. She’s probably hungry.”

“How do you know she’s not a he?” Devlin asked.

“Do I really have to give you that lecture on the difference between boys and girls?” Fallon asked, patting the dog.

“What are we going to do with it?” Brendan asked.

“I’m taking her back with me,” Fallon said.

“That’s nice. All boys like a dog. Kerrin will love her,” Devlin said warmly.

“He will, but that’s not the reason. This dog managed to escape whoever attacked Dermot’s farm. She got away safely and then came back when she knew we were no threat,” Fallon said, taking a plate of stew from Padraig and putting it in front of the dog.

“That’s reading a bit much into a dog scratching at the door. Besides, she’s barely a pup. How could she know all that?” Brendan said.

“I don’t know,” Fallon said, stroking the dog’s soft coat as she wolfed into the stew. “But she knows this house. And she is the first thing to have escaped these raiders. Selkies wouldn’t have let a dog escape them – but men wouldn’t be able to stop one.”

“I still think you’re reading too much into it,” Brendan warned.

“We’ll see. But I think she’s going to be the turning point of this. She’ll be our lucky charm,” Fallon declared.

“Well, if she can bring me some sleep, that’s good enough.” Gallagher yawned.

“Padraig,” Fallon invited, “can you use magic to talk to this dog?”

“And I thought I was the mad one,” the old wizard grumbled, but lowered himself to the floor beside the dog, groaning as his knees creaked. He reached out and ran his hand down the dog’s back. She looked up from her plate of food but Fallon soothed her with a pat and a few words and she went back to eating.

“A bad smell in the night. Bad smells all around. She barked to warn the family but they couldn’t hear what was happening outside. They let her out and she got scared by the bad smell. Shouts and screams all around. She ran and hid until the bad smell went, then came back when she smelled us,” Padraig said softly, stroking the dog’s back.

“Is that it? Just a bad smell?” Fallon asked, frustrated.

Devlin chuckled. “Her nose is less than a pace from Padraig’s feet and she doesn’t think that is a bad smell! Just what did they stink like?”

Padraig looked up seriously. “She means it was a smell she had never come across before. You have to be like a dog to interpret their thoughts.”

“Be like a dog? Wonderful! I always wanted to be able to lick my own balls.” Devlin laughed.

Gallagher cuffed him over the head. “Would you be serious for once? The Sister is right here; show some respect!”

“I can’t be serious, it’s against my religion,” Devlin protested, only for Gallagher to cuff him again.

Rosaleen cleared her throat. “I have heard worse things,” she said. “And next to the evil that has happened here, a bad joke is nothing. But I am surprised to hear you leap to my defense, Gallagher.”

“Just because I won’t pray to your god doesn’t mean I like to see you disrespected,” Gallagher mumbled.

Fallon ran his fingers through the dog’s hair. “Something she had never smelled before. But she would remember it again, no doubt?”

“Of course,” Padraig agreed.

“Excellent. She will be our first witness. We need to take care of her.”

Bridgit lay in the bed, listening to Kerrin breathing beside her. She had been unable to sleep that night and now she could sense dawn lightening the sky. Few in the village had slept much, with so many of the menfolk out setting the trap for their mysterious attackers. Some had gone back to sleep with the return of most of the volunteers but Bridgit had watched Fallon and his friends hurry off to the Dermot farm and knew she could not close her eyes until he was safe.

She knew it was stupid but she could not shake the thought that something bad would happen if she fell asleep. Instead she lay there, imagining ever-more terrible ways for Fallon to be killed. She had almost convinced herself that he was dead when she heard them return.

She eased out of bed, leaving Kerrin to sleep, and wrapped a cloak around her shoulders before hurrying out to see them all walk back, talking quietly. She leaned against the doorframe, her legs suddenly weak, as she watched Fallon shake hands and pat backs before turning to her. She took a deep breath, telling herself she should not cry – then looked down at his feet.

“What’s that?” she asked, as Fallon stumbled towards her.

“This is a dog. We found her at the Dermot farm. She escaped whoever captured them and then came back to see us. She’s a witness and my lucky charm,” Fallon said, then hugged Bridgit close.

“Thank Aroaril you’re back safely,” she breathed into his ear.

“He had little to do with it,” Fallon said with a yawn. “I fear they knew what was going on and they were playing with us.”

“What do you mean?” she asked.

“Let me inside and I’ll tell you. I feel like I could sleep for a moon,” he groaned.

She let him in, although she made sure to keep her arm around him. She did not know why he loved her. As she told him often enough: “I’m as mad as a spring hare sometimes.” But she was grateful, so grateful that he did. At times like these she wished she could be a better wife to him, but always there were fears in her mind, holding her back.

“I’m so glad you came back,” she said gently.

“They were toying with us,” Fallon repeated. “Somehow they knew what we would do. Hitting Dermot’s farm was a message to us – they know this country as well as we do.”

“Stop worrying about it. You can’t do anything about it now,” she said soothingly.

Fallon laughed. “If you’re telling me not to worry, then I must be a state!” He released the piece of rope around the dog’s neck.

“Wait! I’m not having that bag of fleas inside this house!” Bridgit spluttered.

“But she’s a house dog. Dermot never had any sheep. Besides, she wanted to get into his house, so she must be used to being there,” Fallon said.

“What are you blathering about, man?” she said, her relief at his return punctured a little by the thought of the mess a strange dog would make. “And what about Kerrin?”

“He will love her, won’t he, girl?” Fallon said.

“Now I know your wits have wandered – talking to a dog! Get it out this very moment!”

But it was too late. Barking joyfully, the dog scampered over to where Kerrin lay in bed and, with one spring, was on the bed beside him.

“Stop!” Bridgit cried in alarm.

Kerrin sat up to find a dog next to him. Instinctively he threw an arm around her shoulders and she licked his face, making him laugh.

“Where did he come from? Can I keep him? What’s his name?” he asked in rapid succession.

“See, they were made to be together,” Fallon said craftily.

Bridgit looked at him, fighting the smile that threatened to take over her face. “I might have guessed you’d try something like this. If she makes a mess in here, then you’ll be the one who clears it up.”

“Don’t I always clear up messes?” he asked innocently, but she could see the laugh dancing behind his eyes.

“Well, the next would be the first! Anyway, if she belonged to the Dermot family, then we’re only looking after her until they come back. We can’t get too attached to her.”

Fallon’s smile vanished instantly. “I fear that they will not be coming back for some time, if at all,” he said gravely. “To get that far inland and take a family and livestock without anyone being the wiser – they are too well organized and I think they also have help from our end.”

She felt that fear, could imagine them descending on Baltimore, and it must have shown on her face, because he squeezed her tight.

“They won’t ever strike here. Baltimore’s too big – it would be impossible to replicate those attacks here. They would need hundreds of men,” he said softly.

“I hope you are right,” she whispered.

“Well, the dog can smell them, so she will be the perfect guard,” he said.

“You think you have thought of everything to make me keep her,” she accused, although she could not ignore the sight of Kerrin and the dog hugging on the bed.

Fallon laughed. “Well, if I can have a little sleep, I’ll take care of everything. That’s my job.”

“Do you want something to eat?” she offered, looking over to where the fire needed stirring up.

“No, just sleep.”

She let him stagger off up the stairs and turned her attention to where Kerrin was rubbing the dog’s stomach. She sat down on the bed and was rewarded with a red tongue licking her hand and big brown eyes staring at her.

“What are we going to call her?” she asked Kerrin.

“How about Killer?”

The dog sat on the bed, its tail thumping the woolen blankets.

“I don’t think she likes that name, and neither do I. How about Caley?”

“But that’s not the name of a warrior!” Kerrin protested.

“No, it means friend, and that is what she will be. How about it, Caley?”

The dog tilted its head on the side and made a chuffing noise in its throat.

“Caley it is. Now get dressed. We’re going to give her a bath and then something to eat.”

She watched Kerrin scramble out of bed and race off to his clothes chest with Caley beside him, tail wagging, and wondered what the dog had seen out at the Dermot farm.

“Would you care to explain yourself, Cavan?” King Aidan asked mildly, fingers drumming on the edge of his chair.

Cavan was not fooled by the tone. With his father, the calm always came before the storm.

“About what, Father?” he asked, fighting to keep the loathing hidden behind his eyes.

“Don’t play the innocent with me!” Aidan barked, thumping the throne, the noise stopping all other conversation in the room in an instant. Everyone froze and looked towards the King, praying they would not be the focus of his anger. Behind Cavan, Niall and even Eamon shrank back slightly.

“You miss appointments, leave others early, make a scene in the city and then break into your brother’s rooms and destroy them! Have you gone mad?”

“No, Father. I am trying to get to the bottom of the mystery that haunts our city and stop the fear that grips our people,” Cavan said evenly.

“And what do you think I am doing?” Aidan asked dangerously.

Cavan opened his mouth but closed it again, recognizing one of his father’s traps.

“There are witches loose in this city and I am stamping them out. There are few alive who can remember the last time we had an outbreak of Zorva worship in this country. But I know the tales. Our response must be brutal and final. We must fight fear with terror. I will not have it and I will do anything to stop it. Anything, do you hear me?”

Cavan bowed his head as the room exploded into applause. His father’s voice throbbed with anger and loathing and he did not doubt the King would do anything to stamp out Zorva worship. But that was the problem. While he burned innocent women, Swane was making a fool out of them.

“Father, what if –?” he began.

Aidan surged to his feet. “Does it look like I have a cock on my forehead?” he screamed.

Nobody said anything.

He stamped down the stairs and grabbed a terrified-looking Guildsman, a banker by the color of his robe.

“Can you see a giant cock on my forehead?” he shouted at the man.

“N-no, sire,” the man gabbled, looking as though he was about to faint.

Aidan shoved him away; if it were not for a pair of his fellow Guildsmen, the man would have collapsed to the floor.

“Then why does my son try to treat me as if I am a giant cockhead?” he roared out at the hall.

Wisely, nobody tried to answer that question. “Father, it is not witches stealing children around the city,” Cavan said firmly. “The woman we burned out by the West Gate was innocent. I saw three of the captors myself, chased them across the city rooftops. It is
men,
and I believe my brother –”

“Enough!” Aidan thundered, seeming to make the room shake with his anger. He stormed over to Cavan and now Cavan could see he had lost all control. He kept his hands clasped behind his back but braced himself for a blow to club him to the ground.

But it never arrived. Instead Aidan stopped before him, still breathing as though he had run a race. “Leave us! Everyone, leave us! Anyone left in this room by the count of ten will have his head decorating the castle gate at dawn tomorrow!”

There was a frantic rush for the doors, men and women pushing each other to be out of the room before the King’s eyes fell on them. All that was left was a handful of guards, who were forbidden to leave their post on pain of death, no matter what the King said.

Cavan knew he stood alone, for Niall and Eamon had joined the mad rush to escape the King’s wrath. Alone but for his father.

Aidan’s hand rose and Cavan tried not to flinch – but it thumped down onto his shoulder instead of anything worse. “You are not to mention your brother’s name in connection with this matter in public ever again, understand?” the King said heavily.

“But, Father –”

Aidan’s eyes flashed and his hand tightened on Cavan’s shoulder.

“You and Swane cannot be seen to be fighting. It is never good for our family’s image but even worse at this time. If you have worries, bring them to me and I will take care of them. I know Swane’s failings just as well as you. If he is playing a dangerous game then I will stop it. Now, calm down and talk to me.”

“We can burn as many women as we want but it will not stop the children vanishing,” Cavan said, as evenly as he could manage.

“How do you know the ones you saw aren’t working for witches?” Aidan asked sharply.

Cavan paused, then said, “I know they weren’t working for the woman I had burned on your orders.”

Aidan brought his other hand up so now he was gripping both of Cavan’s shoulders.

“You don’t know what is going on. I have spoken with the Archbishop and he agrees with me completely. They may not be women but they are certainly servants of Zorva. We have seen this before. I have to stamp down on it violently, or more will try it. People must fear my wrath more than they long for Zorva’s filthy powers.”

“Well, half the stalls in the city are selling some sort of charm to protect you from witches, while the churches are always full and, rumor has it, it costs you a coin just to get in the door now.”

“Good. It shows that my plan is working,” Aidan said.

“But Father, what if there is more behind it? And surely burning innocent women alive is contributing to evil, not fighting it? I hear some are even being thrown into the harbor and told if they float they are witches and must die and only through drowning can they be proved innocent. What sort of trial is that?”

“That is a traditional test for witches, approved by the church,” Aidan growled. “Now do not question me further, boy. I know what I am doing. If some innocents have to die so that we crush these Zorva worshippers before they spread, then so be it.”

“Then question Swane instead! There is some link between many of the children and this castle –”

Aidan pulled his hands away from Cavan’s shoulders. “I know you hate your brother. I can understand that. But at a time like this, we need to stand together. The people will be looking to us to set an example. Only we can calm the situation. I shall be the fist of iron and you shall be the velvet glove. Between us we shall restore calm to the streets.”

“But what if Swane
is
behind it?” Cavan asked.

Aidan looked down at the ground and shook his head. “I can see there is no way you are letting go of this. All right, for your sake, I shall get the Archbishop in and have him question your brother. Meanwhile I will have Captain Kelty search through his rooms. If they find anything then he will be punished. Will that satisfy you? Can I rely on you to help me protect this country?”

It was not as much as Cavan hoped but more than he expected. “Yes, Father,” he said.

“Good. Because we have a bigger problem, one I need you to deal with.”

Cavan struggled to keep the surprise from his face. “Bigger problem? Like one of the merchant Guilds not having a prince to fawn upon at their annual dinner?”

“No,” Aidan said impatiently. “It seems that the old legends have come true. The seals have turned into evil selkies, beasts who can take human form at will. They are attacking our southern counties. Dozens of people have vanished without a trace – including my own cousin the Duke of Lunster, plucked from his ship with a dozen guards and not a drop of blood or hint of violence.”

“Selkies?” Cavan repeated stupidly.

“Aye. Selkies. That’s the only thing it could be. Nothing human could do such a thing. The Duchess of Lunster has appealed for help. I want you to take charge of this personally and I’m giving you both Finbar and Kynan to help you.”

Cavan struggled to get his head around this. Finbar was the King’s Wizard, appointed to the King not just because he was one of the most powerful natural magicians in the country but because he was a brilliant politician and able to tolerate the King’s moods. Kynan was the Archbishop of Aroaril, who had taken that position for many of the same reasons as Finbar had his.

“And this is really going on in Lunster?”

“Yes it is. And my fear is, after they have finished with Lunster, they will surely spread. We have to find out what it is.”

“But I didn’t think there was any such thing as selkies,” Cavan said. “Perhaps the two things are linked. If someone is using children to gain power from Zorva, then they could be taking people from Lunster as well.”

Aidan patted his shoulder. “It is possible,” he said. “And that is why I am sending you down there. Finbar and Kynan will help you discover the truth. Listen to them and report back to me, is that clear?”

“It is clear, Father,” he said calmly, although his heart was beating faster. There had to be a link and he would find it. “When should I leave?”