The Last Quarrel (The Complete Edition) (19 page)

“Finished?” the younger man asked mildly.

Fallon glared at him, his chest heaving. The bastard was not even sweating! He whipped his own blade up, knocking Eamon’s away, and lashed out at the man.

His blade struck only air as he thrust it furiously, imagining Eamon was the familiar sword posts outside his house, then Eamon turned one cut away with a flick of his wrist and his blade crashed out to hit Fallon’s stomach.

The air exploded out of Fallon and he doubled over, hanging onto his sword only with an effort of will. He staggered backwards, gasping for breath.

But Eamon was not about to give him the time to recover. Fallon blocked one blow at his chest, then a low blow swept his legs out from beneath him and he hit the ground with a crash.

“That’s enough!” Hagen roared, striding onto the arena as Eamon offered his hand to the stunned Fallon.

Fallon saw the hand being offered but knocked it away, coming slowly to his knees and sucking in great gasps of breath, determined to push himself back up to his feet and keep going.

“Don’t,” Hagen said, grabbing him around the shoulders and getting between the two of them. “Give it up, man, you’re just asking for him to really hurt you.”

“He’s right, my friend. You have heart: I’ll give you that. But I’m afraid you don’t have the skill,” Eamon said regretfully.

“You’re no friend of mine,” Fallon said, pushing himself to his feet and tightening his hand around the hilt of the wooden sword.

“No more,” Hagen told him, grabbing the blunt sword and pulling it out of his grip.

“You may not think of me as a friend but I am trying to keep you alive. Berry’s streets are full of men with sharp knives. I’ve had to leave several of them lying in their own blood rather than let the Prince be hurt. That’s before you even come to the child snatchers. I hit one with my sword and it bounced right bloody off – felt like I was hitting wood. You have a family, a village that admires you. Why risk all that?” Eamon said. “Maybe fifteen summers ago you could have done this. But you’re too slow and unskilled. You know I’m right.”

“Don’t listen to the prick,” Hagen said softly.

“Ignore me if you like,” Eamon continued, seeming to take no offence at Hagen’s words. “All I’ve done is show you the truth – you’re killing yourself and your family if you take this up. What you do with that truth is up to you. If you still choose to serve Cavan, I shall try to keep you alive as long as possible. But say your farewells before you travel north, because you won’t be coming back.”

Eamon tossed the wooden sword down and walked away, looking as though he had done nothing more strenuous than stroll through a flower garden.

“Come on, let’s get you cleaned up,” Hagen said, putting his arm around Fallon’s shoulders.

“I’m fine,” Fallon insisted, stepping away and wincing as every part of his body hurt from the repeated hits he had taken.

“Ignore him. He’s just worried the Prince will look to you rather than to him. He’s in tight with the man and doesn’t want that cushy little number to change. You proved back at the village of Killarney what you can do. You won’t be matching swords with cutthroats in Berry’s streets – you’ll be sending men to do that for you. I’m a captain of guards and my sword’s stayed so long in its scabbard, I think it’s bloody rusted in there!”

Fallon shook his head and stretched out his sore back. “But he is right. I left things too late. And how can I command men who don’t respect me?”

He suspected that he could walk into the Duchess’ manor and the Prince would offer him apologies and platitudes and Eamon would be forced to apologize. But it would always be between them. He just wanted to be away from there now. Bridgit and Padraig had been right. How stupid had he been, thinking he deserved to lead a Crown Prince’s guard? He was a village sergeant, good at what he did and nothing more. It was better for them all if he just went back to Baltimore and forgot his dreams.

“Don’t do anything stupid. This is the chance of a lifetime for you,” Hagen urged.

“I can’t do it. Imagine if I failed and the Crown Prince was killed? Apart from signing my own death warrant, it would mean the end for Gaelland.”

Hagen grasped his shoulder. “You are my friend. Do what you know is right in your heart and don’t let anything else get in the way. Now let’s get you cleaned up – you can’t go before the Crown Prince like that. Especially if you’re going to disappoint him.”

Cavan rubbed his chin and looked at Eamon critically. “And you’re sure you had nothing to do with this?” he said.

“Highness, I told him what he would face if he came to Berry and what he was risking. But I promised him that if he came to serve you, then I would do my best to keep him alive,” Eamon said, meeting his eyes directly.

Cavan muttered a curse. He had been counting on Fallon. The way the man had taken control of the guards and led them into the village was exactly what he had been looking for, and there was no way Fallon could be a pet of his brother. Yet he had watched and listened as Fallon politely refused to serve, saying he was not good enough. Cavan had toyed with the idea of ordering him to obey. But he didn’t want to force men to serve him.

“But why would he refuse now? He seemed so eager back in his village.”

“He has let us both down,” Dina said. “I think you might be better without him. I thought I saw something in him also, yet he was quick to forget about me and chase your good opinion.”

“That still doesn’t answer my question of how he changed his mind so quickly,” Cavan said.

“Well, he has a sick child and he and his wife have lost a dozen babies over the years. People do strange things to protect their children,” Dina offered.

Cavan shrugged. That might explain it, but he had the nagging suspicion there was something else behind it.

“He was walking stiffly, as if he had been in some sort of fight. Are
you sure you had nothing to do with it, Eamon?”

“Why would you think that?’ his bodyguard replied innocently.

Cavan looked at his friend carefully but could see nothing on his face. “Well, there is only one thing for it. Eamon, I’ll need you to find me a squad of guards and you’ll have to lead them and keep an eye on me.”

“I’ll make sure they are the best I can find, ready to die to protect you – and ready to kill for you, as well,” Eamon promised. “You can rely on me to keep you safe.”

“I know I can.” Cavan smiled. “Now, thank you for your kindness, Duchess, but we must get back to Berry or my father will be demanding to know why we delayed.”

Almost every part of Fallon ached, but his biggest discomfort was inside. Bruised and sore muscles were one thing – he was used to them. But the feeling he had made a terrible mistake was much worse. He tried to tell himself that Bridgit would be happy. He argued against himself as persuasively as he could that serving Cavan was too risky. Not only could he, Bridgit and Kerrin end up killed but, worse, he could see the hope of Gaelland snuffed out. But, while it all sounded sensible, the reasons broke apart on the cold stone lump in his chest. This was his big chance, the thing he had been waiting for all his life. And he had walked away from it. The mocking smile from Eamon had been confirmation of his worst fears and everything Hagen had said. The dismissal from both the Prince and the Duchess showed him there was no more hope of promotion, either. Even Hagen had not been much comfort.

“Give it a moon or two and I’ll try to talk the Duchess around,” Hagen said. “She’s very big on loyalty and when you looked set to accept the Prince’s offer instead of hers, she would have written you off. Of course, if you’d have told the Prince you couldn’t serve him because you were promised to her …”

“She would have offered me to him and then I’d have looked like a terrible liar when I refused even then,” Fallon said tiredly.

Hagen snorted. “There you go then. I didn’t even think of that.”

“She might forgive me if I bring her some of the attackers, prove who is raiding our people,” Fallon suggested.

Hagen brightened a bit at that. “True. So when are you doing it?”

“Night after tomorrow and every second night after that, until we catch them.”

Hagen patted him on the shoulder. “Now that could save us all. I’ll send you Gannon and a dozen men to back up whatever you can scrape together from the village. Better be safe than sorry.”

“Gannon? He hates me,” Fallon said.

“Maybe. But he’s the best man I have after you and you might just need him.”

Hagen’s words were of little comfort as Fallon rode into Baltimore under a drizzle of rain. It suited his mood perfectly. Usually his spirit lifted when he saw home. Now the only thing he looked at was the Duke’s ship, moored in the small harbor and looming over the huts.
I’ll feel better when I’ve caught the bastards doing this to us
, he decided.

Bridgit could feel the tension radiating out from Fallon as he walked in the door. On the outside he looked the same. But she knew him too well and there was anger leaking from him.

She busied herself with cooking, knowing he would talk about it in his own way and that, if she pressed him, he would walk away rather than get angry. There were other times he had come home like this. Usually after a night out hunting for poachers or thieves: nights, she knew, he fought and killed men. Those were hard vigils, not knowing whether he would return, or how he would return, whether he would be hurt. But the last day and a half had been worse, somehow.

She loved how the Prince had seen Fallon’s worth and wanted him to be his guard captain. And she hated the thought of going to Berry. Ever since her childhood it had been a place of fear and loathing, somewhere not to be mentioned in case it made her father crazy. Some of the stories she remembered and some she had imagined, until she didn’t know which was true. How the greedy Guilds and the nasty nobles ran the place; about the filthy alleys where starved children fought with rats for scraps; the way disease stalked old and young. How corruption crushed men with talent and hope.

Bridgit hated the fact she was scared of so many things. Every day, it seemed, she found a new threat to worry about. But she was really scared of Berry. She would even rather go to Lunster.

It was strange. Gallagher had lost his family and blamed Aroaril. She had lost so many children and blamed herself. Doubts and worries would strike her and she would reach out to touch a piece of iron to dispel evil and mutter a quick prayer to protect Kerrin, or Fallon, or Caley, or one of her friends.

Thinking that, she reached out and rested her finger on a nailhead holding the grate above the fire to the fireplace beam, a nail polished by frequent touching, and prayed that Fallon had decided not to go to Berry.

She managed to keep her questions until Kerrin had been dragged off to bed, protesting that he needed to come up with one more riddle before sleep. He was only silenced by Caley curling up on the bed beside him.

She walked back to where Fallon was slumped in a chair, staring into the fire. She grabbed his hand and lifted it up, slipping onto his lap, something she had not done for a dozen years.

“What, are all the other chairs broken?” he grunted, a smile flickering around his lips.

“Talk to me. What happened in Lunster with the Prince?” she asked softly.

She felt his hand tighten on her hip.

“I’m not going to Berry. None of us are. Nor Lunster for that matter,” he said.

She was instantly torn by a wave of relief so strong she thought she might burst into tears – and pity for the misery in his voice. “What happened?”

“I realised I was the wrong man for the job. That bodyguard told me what I’d be facing.”

She raised herself up and looked into his face. “There has to be more to it than that. You’re not afraid of anything. I know you go out there and fight with knives in the dark woods. I’ve helped stitch you up.”

She saw his face twist in anger. “I crossed practice swords with him and he made me look like a fool. I won’t be fighting half-starved poachers and worthless thieves. I’ll be stepping into the middle of a war between Prince Cavan and his brother. He needs a man to protect him. I’d just be laughed at.”

“That’s not true and you know it. Nobody would dare to laugh at you. So that bodyguard was good with a wooden sword, in the sun, in the middle of the day. How would he go in the woods, with a knife?” she said fiercely.

Fallon shook his head. “I’ve already made my decision and told the Prince. There’s no going back on that. The Duchess wasn’t happy with me either; she said no more about being Hagen’s deputy.”

She heard the misery and despair in his voice and reached out to stroke his face. “It will be all right,” she said softly, as she would have comforted Kerrin waking from a nightmare.

“No, it won’t!” he growled, surging to his feet and forcing her to stand. “Don’t tell me you feel sorry for me and upset about this. You wanted this all along.”

“Yes, I was scared to go to Berry. It was the place that destroyed my father and killed my mother. Yes, it frightens me. But I’ve never wanted to see you hurt.”

“I knew it! I knew you hated the idea of me bettering myself, making a success out of my life. You’d be happy if I ended up like Padraig, a stinking drunk laughed at by the village behind my back!”

“That’s not true and you know it! And you can leave my father out of this, as well.”

He snorted in disgust and flopped back into the chair.

She pointed her finger at him, shaking a little in her sudden anger. “What is so bad about the life we are living? We are raising Kerrin safe and sound, we are happy and liked and respected here –”

“If you are so happy with the life we live, why do you cry all the time? Why do you turn away from me in bed most nights?”

She dropped her hand. “So it all comes back to that, doesn’t it? You hate me because I keep losing our children.”

“I never said that!” he howled, the outrage in his voice sinking through the fog of misery around her. But only just.