The Last Quarrel (The Complete Edition) (2 page)

“Need a heavy hammer for a long spear!” Brendan called.

“Just for that, I should drop you into the water.”

“A little help here!” Gallagher grunted.

But Fallon had no intention of turning his back on the dark, empty square that was the entrance to the hold. Nothing stirred down there but he wasn’t going to risk it.

A thud and several muffled curses behind him told him that Brendan had arrived. He stole a quick glance to see the three of them picking themselves up.

“Thanks, Sister!” Brendan waved down below.

“If you would just give me a hand in return?” Rosaleen asked.

“No!” Fallon hissed but it was too late. A scrape and a thump told him that the priestess was also on board. Next moment all four were at his shoulder, clustered together for protection.

“We really should have brought torches and maybe some knives and axes,” Devlin said.

“A bit late to mention that, don’t you think?” Gallagher asked pointedly.

“We check the hold first,” Fallon said, walking towards the gaping hole in the deck. If there were answers, he was sure they would be down there.

“Not the Duke’s cabin?” Gallagher suggested.

“That’s not going anywhere. But I won’t turn my back on the hold until we have checked it,” Fallon said. It was very easy to imagine that dark space as the doorway into Zorva’s pits, an image which the old village priest Father Reece had loved to use to terrify his flock.

He crept over to the edge and peered in but could see nothing. A faint sloshing sound suggested there was water below but he supposed it could equally have been a selkie changing form. His aunt used to talk about them: how the seals came to life and granted you wishes if you gave them tribute – and took you to your death if you hurt them.

“What do we do now?” Brendan hissed.

Fallon glanced around and saw all of their faces were white and drawn, especially Sister Rosaleen’s. For the rest of them, it was obviously time to remember that, when all was said and done, they weren’t soldiers. Just a farmer, smith and fisherman who were friends with one.

“You do nothing. I do this,” Fallon said, and jumped into the hold.

Instantly he was plunged into darkness. He braced himself for the landing, but the deck was curved here and he splashed down into water, slipped and fell against the side of the boat. He pushed himself upright, cursing, water slopping over the edge of his low boots, and peered into the darkness. Nothing sprang out at him and, as his heart slowed down, his eyes began to get used to the light penetrating from above as well as filtering in from the jagged opening up the front. A pair of eyes glinted at him from his left and he had brought his crossbow up to his shoulder before he realised they belonged to a fat rat. He and the rat stared at each other for a long moment before it turned and scampered away.

He spun around slowly but the hold was empty. Well, there were a few other rats climbing along the side, keeping out of the water, and a couple of barrels shifting around in the water, but no sign of the twenty or more men needed to sail such a ship. He sloshed through the water, making himself check every dark corner – but there was nothing. Not even a seal, let alone a selkie.

“Fallon?” Gallagher called down.

“It’s empty,” Fallon stood in the patch of sunlight. “No sign of anything.” He held up his free hand. “Give me a lift out.”

They dragged him out and then looked at the stern cabin.

“They must be all in there,” Devlin said.

The door to the cabin was shut, so Fallon took up position in front of it and signaled to Devlin. The farmer grabbed the handle and wrenched it open, Fallon ready to shoot anything that came out.

But nothing did.

Inside it was simple enough. A large bunk, a larger desk and several comfortable chairs, all nailed to the floor to keep them in place, as well as deep lockers on three of the walls. These held clothes, papers and barrels of food but little else. And there was no sign of any crew, let alone the Duke – nor any sign of struggle. The Duke’s jeweled sword lay in a locker, still in its scabbard. Strangest of all, the remnants of a meal were scattered on the table, some of it still on the plate and some obviously thrown off when the ship had struck the land. A fork and knife lay on the table; a hunk of meat was still impaled on the fork.

“He was eating lamb chops. Nice,” Devlin said. “Riona’s cooking them for me this evening.”

“Why did he leave them like this? What was so fast he didn’t finish his mouthful?” Brendan asked. “What could take an entire crew of men and the Duke so fast that they never left so much as a spot of blood?”

“I don’t know,” Fallon said reluctantly.

“It could be witches. Or selkies,” Gallagher said softly.

They all turned to look at Sister Rosaleen.

“It wasn’t.” The priestess shook her head. “I would be able to tell.”

“Had much to do with witches, have you?” Devlin asked.

Rosaleen glared at him. “You will need to recite two Aroaril Save Us prayers for that blasphemy, Devlin, by next full moon. Those tales are not true. Not really.”

“What do you mean, not really? Either it’s true or it’s not,” Fallon said sharply.

“It is a tale that has grown out of a seed of truth. Those who let the evil of the Dark God Zorva into their hearts look like men and women but behave like monsters. And they have powers. From that evil reality grew tales of witches. But if it had been such monsters responsible for this we would see some struggle, some blood at least. And I would be able to sense their evil. Blood magic leaves a stink. I cannot feel any of that.”

“What about selkies then? Everyone has seen one,” Devlin said.

“Really?” Gallagher asked. “Because I’ve been out in boats all my life and never seen one.”

“Everyone has heard a tale of one,” Devlin said. “My grandfather swore he saw one beckon to him.”

“And how many tankards had he downed by then?” Brendan asked.

“There are no selkies. Those are just tales put about so that fishermen could kill off seals without anyone getting angry at them,” Rosaleen said angrily. “How many times do I have to say that to people?”

They looked around the empty cabin again, but it still had no answers. Fallon caught Brendan contemplating the remains of the Duke’s meal.

“Don’t even think it,” Fallon said.

“They’d never miss one chop. And I’ve been running around all afternoon,” Brendan protested.

“I’d miss it. And there will be people coming to see this. The Duke of Lunster is the cousin of the King. He doesn’t just disappear from his ship without a fuss. Mark my words: this is not the end of things. Now, Gallagher, go and grab a dozen men and get the sails down before the ship does itself any more damage.”

“What are we going to do?” Devlin asked.

“You are going to keep people away from it, in case someone gets the idea they should see if there’s anything valuable hidden below. I’m going to ride to Lunster at first light and tell the Duchess her husband is gone.”

“I think I got the better half of that deal,” Devlin admitted.

“What are you going to tell the Duchess?” Rosaleen asked.

“I’m not sure,” Fallon admitted. “Gall, what would you do if you were out there and you saw another ship?”

“Take in the sails, get on the oars and get out weapons,” Gallagher said immediately.

“That’s what I thought. And they did none of that. So what happened here?”

None of them could answer.

“It may not be witches, but there is something strange at work here,” Rosaleen said gently. “I can tell there was no blood magic used but maybe somebody used natural magic. You should ask Padraig to take a look at the ship.”

“He’s the last thing I need right now,” Fallon said with a groan.

“How can he help? He’s an old nutter who lives out in the woods and howls at the moon,” Devlin said.

“We are all Aroaril’s children,” Rosaleen said firmly. “Yes, he is a little stranger than most. But he also knows magic, I can promise you that much. And it might be better to have all the information before you tell the Duchess Dina that her husband has disappeared at sea, leaving behind only a couple of lamb chops. I’m surprised you haven’t thought of him already, Fallon. Isn’t he your wife’s father?”

Fallon rolled his eyes. “Thank you, Sister. I had completely forgotten that.”

Rosaleen smiled. “We all have things sent by Aroaril to try us. I shall pray for you and Bridgit and Kerrin this evening. His cough is better?”

“Much better, thanks.” Fallon nodded and forced a smile.

“Good. Then I shall go and reassure the rest of my flock that there is no pack of selkies waiting on board to devour them.”

Fallon let her walk away and looked around once more. He knew there was something he had missed, so he dropped to one knee and looked on the floor. Nothing. He lay down on the floor and could still see nothing. That was strange in itself. He guessed the Duke would want to keep his ship clean but this was ridiculous. He sighed. The answer to the mystery was not going to appear before his eyes. Then he caught a glint of metal coming from behind one of the lockers pushed against the wall and secured with rope.

He unhooked the rope then signaled to his friends. “Give me a hand here.” He took hold of the heavy wooden locker and, with Brendan and Devlin helping, dragged it out.

“What is it?” Gallagher asked.

They all peered at a small crossbow bolt, the tip stained brown with dried blood, nestling against the wall.

“That could have been there for days, moons even,” Devlin said doubtfully.

Fallon picked it up, then held it up against his own crossbow. “Look at that. It’s less than half the size of the quarrels I use.”

“So? There could be a hundred reasons why it is here.”

Fallon smiled. “And one of them is men were responsible for what happened here. This is what I have been waiting for!”

“What do you mean?” Gallagher asked.

“This means that someone has attacked and killed our Duke and is trying to cover it up,” Fallon said excitedly. “And if we can find out who is behind it, who knows what our reward will be?”

“Maybe just to stay alive?” Gallagher suggested. “If someone has done that, they won’t take kindly to the likes of us interfering. We just need to tell the Duchess what happened here and let others look after it.”

“But it happened in our village. That makes it our business. And I’m going to find out what is going on,” Fallon insisted.

He looked around at his friends and was shocked to see the doubt on their faces.

“Fallon, we’re all happy to make silly noises while you do your thing with the crossbow and flog ourselves stupid pretending to be real soldiers once a moon when you train everyone for the fyrd. But this – this is beyond that,” Devlin said slowly.

“This is serious,” Gallagher said. “If you’re going to kill one of the King’s nobles and then make it look like a mystery then you have big plans. Who are the likes of us to try and stop it?”

“He’s right. We’re just ordinary folk,” Brendan agreed.

“We don’t have to be. We could be heroes,” Fallon growled.

“Heroes have a way of ending up dead,” Gallagher said.

Fallon shook his head. “I’ve waited too long for a chance like this. I’m not going to let it slip past. And if you still call yourselves my friends, you will stand beside me.”

The three of them looked at each other, then Devlin sighed. “We will be by your side. But I hope you know what you are leading us into.”

“That’s what we shall find out. Dev, Gall, go and get Padraig. Maybe he can help us find some answers.”

“The day just keeps getting better,” Devlin muttered as he and Gallagher turned to go.

“Are you sure we wouldn’t be better off handing this to Captain Hagen at Lunster?” Brendan asked.

“I will tell Hagen but I’ll also help him,” Fallon said, unable to keep the grin off his face. He could see it now. This was his ticket out of Baltimore, his big opportunity. This was why he’d trained so long and hard.

Brendan sighed. “Are you sure that is what you mean? I see this and fear it may be the start of something terrible.”

“Terrible for some,” Fallon said, twirling the mysterious crossbow quarrel on his fingers. Already he was thinking what he should say to the Duchess. Then he stopped twirling the quarrel. Perhaps he would be better off thinking of how he was going to explain it all to Bridgit.

The little fishing boat tugged at its crude stone anchor as the waves eased past, heading for the coast a few hundred yards away. They were in the shadow of a rocky headland and the choppy water made the boat sway. Seals sunned themselves on the rocks or watched the fishermen warily.

“Are you sure this is a good spot, Barry?” Alroy asked. “The seals don’t like us being here.”

“Brother, this is the best fishing spot. Trust me,” Barry replied with a grin. “There must be fish here if they like it.”

Alroy sighed and jiggled his line up and down. They had caught nothing yet. “We’ll have to turn back soon. It’s nearly dark,” he said. “We’ve got a long sail home and there’s nobody around.”

“That’s what makes it a great spot,” Barry said.

“But what if some of them are selkies?” Alroy whispered.

“There’s no such thing,” Barry snorted. “Tales to frighten the children. Look at those fat, stupid seals. Do you really think they turn into men at night and stalk the land, dragging men down to their death?”

“Yes,” Alroy whispered.

“Then you are a fool,” Barry said. “They are just seals.” Then he whooped with delight. “Got one!”

Alroy spun to see Barry’s fishing pole bend almost in half. “It’s bloody huge!” he laughed.

Barry stood to give himself more purchase, peering over the side of the boat to see if he could spot anything below – then a massive tug on the line plucked him off the boat and into the water.

Alroy roared with laughter as he steadied the boat, then leaned over. “Do you want a hand, you big lug?” he asked cheerfully.

But there was no sign of Barry.

“Stop messing around, man! Where are you?” Alroy called, feeling the first stirrings of alarm.

All was silent. There was no sign of his brother. Alroy’s heart began to pound and he peered desperately into the clear water. Nothing. A splash at the other side made him spin – to see Barry’s fishing pole pop back to the surface and float there.

His vague fears turned solid and he glanced over at the colony of seals. They seemed to be unhappy about something. And was it just his imagination or were there fewer of them now? The memories of stories his gran had told them, of how you had to appease the selkies or they would strike back, flooded into him. How they looked just like a seal but they had the minds and strength of men.

“Barry!” he shouted, fear thick in his throat now. But there was no answer.

A splash by the stern made him spin, his heart limp with relief – but what climbed into his boat was not Barry. He had no idea what it was: black and glistening, with some kind of strange thing where its face should be.

“Stay away from me, selkie!” he cried. He grabbed his gutting knife – but something grabbed that arm and he turned to see a second creature there, its grip cold and clammy.

He screamed, emptying his lungs and his bowels in one terror-filled moment, then everything went black.

His parents had called him Becan, the little one, and it proved to be true. He was the youngest of the family’s six surviving children, and he was by far the smallest. Each day the older two were sent out to work, while the younger four played on the streets and kept a sharp eye out for anything that could be taken home and made useful. But Becan had a hard time keeping up with the others. He had lost the other three a little earlier, as they had chased a cat down an alley. Cats could be vicious little buggers if they were cornered but there was good eating on one, even if they had to be smothered in gravy to disguise the taste.

Becan sat on a rough stone step and waited for the others to find him. His mam had told him never to walk alone in case a witch came along and grabbed him, but he hadn’t believed her. It was just another of her tales. It was quiet there and he relished that sensation. Then a strange tapping noise made him look around. He gasped as he saw an amazing sight, a silver coin dancing on the step beside him! It caught a little sunlight and shimmered and he laughed as it jiggled and wiggled on the step. He opened his mouth to shout for the others, for they would love to see this – but then the coin rolled away, down the alley. Instantly he sprang after it. His parents would love him for bringing this home. He chased the coin furiously but it spun and danced out of his reach, leading him ever onwards, until it danced in the air before his eyes, just inside a dark doorway. He glanced around but there was still nobody around so he dived at it, already seeing the joy in his parents’ eyes when he brought it home.

His hands closed on the coin but then the door slammed shut behind him. Nobody heard Becan’s screams on the street outside.