The Last Quarrel (The Complete Edition) (36 page)

Cavan walked through the streets of Berry marveling at his good luck and the sudden change in his fortunes. While he had been running away from Eamon and his guards all he had been thinking of was making it to another breath. His highest hope had been to make it to the harbor. Coming out of it not only whole and healthy but at the head of his own private army, with a priestess and a wizard in train, was better than anything he could have imagined. True, he would have liked to have Niall still by his side and Eamon as his prisoner, along with at least one of the child snatchers, but that was almost being greedy.

The important thing was, he had beaten Swane’s foul plan. That was a comfort, although the lack of evidence and the missing children dragged down his spirits. The alleyways behind the harbor had yielded nothing but the body of Niall, which he helped swathe and gather up himself. The house that the snatchers had appeared from was not only deserted but had obviously been swiftly cleaned as well. Fallon had led the way through the rooms and found either piles of dust and dirt – or nothing at all. Cavan thought it might have been their base but he could see Fallon was not so sure. Yet the new guard captain said nothing, which made a pleasant change from Eamon, who would have instantly voiced his disagreement. But then Eamon had been more of a friend than just a bodyguard and captain of guards.

The betrayal hit him then and his feeling of happiness and relief vanished like mist in the morning sun. He had to go and sit down somewhere quiet and it was there that Fallon found him.

“Are you hurt, highness?” he asked anxiously.

“No, I am fine,” Cavan said.

“Then please tell me when and where you are going. My men are all through this house but still, there could be a snatcher hidden away. All it would take is a knife and a few heartbeats and you would be gone,” Fallon said, his tone disapproving.

Cavan stiffened. “I know you mean well but I am still the Crown Prince! It is up to you to follow me!” he said.

Fallon just looked at him for a long time.

“What?” Cavan asked defensively.

“How do you feel? You looked like the cat who had found the cream when we left the harbor but not now,” Fallon said, his voice gentler.

Taken by surprise, Cavan could not think to lie or even deny. “I don’t know what it is: I just feel wrong,” he admitted.

“You felt like you were walking on clouds when we left the harbor but now your heart feels like lead?”

“Yes,” Cavan whispered. “What does it mean?”

Fallon grinned and it lightened his grim face immediately. “That you are a normal man. You thought you were going to die and the reaction from that had you dancing. Now reality has set back in. Your friend betrayed you and tried to kill you, your loyal servant sacrificed himself to give you a chance and the children who trusted you were taken by the snatchers, who have disappeared from their lair and are no doubt finding a better hiding place even now, one we will struggle to locate.”

“Yes!” Cavan breathed. “That is exactly how I feel!”

Fallon smiled at him. “You need to take heart. You have us. We shall never betray you.”

Those words triggered something in Cavan and he suddenly felt close to tears. “How could he do that? I thought he was my friend! I told him everything, trusted him absolutely, and all the time he was working for Swane. When the time came, he would have killed me as easily as swatting a fly,” he asked. “And Niall! I used to laugh at him behind his back, poke fun with Eamon at his fussiness. And yet he threw himself on a sword to give me a chance. He saved my life and I never had the chance to thank him.”

“I don’t know how a man can betray a friend like that,” Fallon admitted. “And Niall was a brave man and deserves honor. Yet you should not torture yourself over what happened. As you said, your brother planned this with great care. Eamon was obviously there to stop you finding out the truth. The fact your persistence forced him to reveal himself means the advantage passes to you now.”

Cavan nodded, unable to speak. Images of Eamon and Niall flashed through his mind and he had to close his eyes.

He felt Fallon’s hand grip his shoulder.

“It’s all right,” he said softly.

The words were kind but it was the touch that did it to Cavan. Nobody had shown him real sympathy since his mother’s death. The tears began to flow and he sobbed silently, reliving the terror-filled run over the rooftops and the look in Eamon’s eyes as he moved in for the kill.

“Let it out: it’ll do you good,” Fallon said.

Cavan wiped his eyes on his sleeves. “I am sorry. I don’t know what you must think of me,” he said.

“I know you are a brave man who has been through a terrible experience, one that would have tested any man. I saw you never give up, saw you fight to the last. No normal man could take what you went through without some reaction. It shows me you will be a great King and I will be proud to serve you,” Fallon said.

Cavan opened his eyes to see Fallon on his knees, concern on his face. “You must be a good father. Your son is lucky,” he said hoarsely.

He saw a shadow flash across Fallon’s face for a moment before the man shrugged. “I don’t know about that. But I have seen my fair share of young men come through a life or death situation.”

He glanced up at Fallon. Familiarity had created a bond with Eamon. But the bodyguard had rarely shared anything of his life and Cavan had certainly not felt able to confide in him either. He had only known Fallon briefly but already he felt a strange compulsion to talk to the man, to tell him the truth, his deepest secrets even. It was easy enough to resist for now but it felt as though Fallon would listen and actually understand.

“Still, I wish my father had been more like you,” Cavan muttered.

“Well, a King is a different beast. And I have made my share of mistakes,” Fallon said.

“You won’t tell others about this?” Cavan asked.

“It is between you and me,” Fallon promised.

Strangely, Cavan felt better after that.

At Fallon’s command, Brendan and Devlin knocked down a door from the child snatchers’ property and used that to carry poor murdered Niall.

Sister Rosaleen said a few words over his body but Cavan swore to them all that Niall would be buried with honor. “I shall take care of his family,” he promised. “We must get back to the castle now.”

At Fallon’s command, six men picked up the door and they began to walk through the streets. People stopped and stared at the sight of a rough and ready crew carrying a dead body through the streets, but at the sight of Crown Prince Cavan, they fell back. Any that did not were shoved aside by Brendan. Not that he actually had to do any pushing with his hands. Just the sight of his blood-spattered clothes and the bloody hammer in his huge hands was enough to make them part.

“Once we get back to the castle it will begin,” Cavan told them. “We don’t have snatchers but we do have clues to chase and I shall have to get you ready before I present you to my father.”

The rest of the day in the palace passed like a blur to Fallon.

His first impression of it was strange, for they arrived in the dark to a decidedly unfriendly set of guards, although they changed their tune swiftly enough when Cavan spoke to them. Niall was taken off somewhere and then it was a case of being led through a maze of corridors and into the Prince’s wing, where the real work started.

The first problem was Caley. She had been happy enough on the ship and walked at Fallon and Kerrin’s side all the way through the town without a whimper of complaint. But soon after they moved into the corridors she began to growl at random items, noises that grew worse and worse, to the point she was barking at random people as they passed as well until Fallon, in desperation, used Padraig’s spell word on her to keep her quiet.

Yet when they arrived in the Prince’s wing, she went berserk. Even though she was not making a sound, she bared her teeth at much of the furniture.

“What is the matter with the creature?” Cavan demanded.

“Is this furniture from Kotterman?” Fallon asked.

“Of course, and many of the people in the castle will be wearing Kottermani clothes as well,” Cavan said, clicking his fingers.

“She has escaped them twice,” Fallon said. “No wonder she hates that smell.” He glanced over at Gallagher and received a nod in return. “We’ll have to clear this stuff out.”

“But it is hugely expensive!” Cavan protested.

“Bought from the bastards who are raiding our coasts and stealing our families,” Fallon growled. “The last thing we want is anything more to do with them. And Caley is important: she has warned us on several occasions and so will help us keep you safe. Anyway, you getting rid of this stuff is perfect. Where the Crown Prince goes, others follow. We can restore the market for Gaelish furniture and keep some of those Kottermani ships from sailing here.”

He looked at Cavan and the Prince nodded, although his reluctance was clear.

“I owe you my life. The least I can do is give up my furniture. Besides, I am sure I can get a good price for it,” Cavan said.

So more servants were summoned to clear away anything Kottermani, from furniture to clothes, then they also carried away the clothes and possessions of the Prince’s former guards, the ones now lying cold in some harbor warehouse. Empty rooms in his wing of the castle were opened and new furniture dragged in for all of them.

“Is this where we are going to live?” Kerrin asked, as he and Caley the dog explored the room they were to share with Fallon. It was smaller than their Baltimore home, but not by much. And while the servants had raided the storerooms for the outdated furniture and bedding, it was all of the highest quality. Kerrin and Caley jumped onto the big bed and began bouncing together.

“That’s enough!” Fallon snapped. “What would your mam say?”

That wiped the smile off Kerrin’s face in an instant and Fallon sighed to himself. He loved Kerrin and normally they could share a laugh and a riddle. But with Bridgit going something had changed between them and Fallon had no idea how to bridge the gap. He found it easier to talk to the young villagers or even the Crown Prince. He hated that he could not have that easy relationship with his son, but Kerrin had been so much Bridgit’s boy that he was at a loss as to how to change it.

“Unpack your things while I make sure we have guards set,” he said gruffly.

He made sure that four men would be on guard at all times, changing shifts through the night so they would be fresh, before going to see Cavan.

“I have posted guards; do you want anything else, highness?” he asked Cavan.

“No, get some rest. We are going to have a busy day tomorrow,” Cavan said, no trace of a smile on his face.

“Worse than today?” Fallon smiled.

“Far worse,” Cavan said. “After you meet my father you might find yourself wishing you were facing Eamon once more.”

Fallon made sure all the men and Rosaleen were comfortable, the priestess having been given her own room, and that the new wing of the castle was secure. Having so many carpenters made it easy. Instead of waiting for servants to do the work, they just knocked out the door marking the beginning of the Prince’s rooms and moved it further down to make the wing bigger.

Then there was the food. Fallon heard a commotion and hurried over to see what was happening.

“You need to test this meal,” the servant said patiently, as if explaining to a foolish child. “We cannot take it in to the Crown Prince unless it has been tested, otherwise it is our heads.”

Fallon exchanged looks with Devlin and Brendan. “So we have to taste everything the kitchen sends up?”

“Just the food for the Prince. Nobody cares what happens to anyone else,” the servant said.

“Maybe Brendan should do it,” Gallagher suggested with a wink at Devlin. “He’s had more practice eating than anyone else.”

Fallon was disturbed to see Devlin still refusing to rise to obvious jokes like that.

“You know what they do serve?” Brendan said. “Punch. Do you want to try some?”

Gallagher grinned at the big smith, then his smile faded when all saw that Brendan was not joking.

“That’s enough,” Fallon said. “Maybe Padraig can tell if any of this has been poisoned.”

“Do you think it would be?” Devlin asked seriously.

“By the sounds of Prince Swane, it’s not impossible,” Fallon admitted.

“I don’t know of any magic that can tell if there is something wrong with the food. No magic that I can use, anyway,” Padraig said. “But I’ll happily try it anyway.”

“You’re too valuable,” Fallon argued.

“Not really. And there is nobody else,” Padraig said with a shrug, then picked up a chunk of meat and stuffed it into his mouth. “Not bad!” he said as he chewed.

He moved from tray to tray, picking up titbits from each one, stuffing them into his mouth and barely pausing to chew and swallow. “Oh this is good – you have to try this plate!” he said, between mouthfuls.

“What is in this? It’s delicious?” he asked one of the servants.

At one point, he went back to a tray he’d tried previously. “Just to make sure,” he said, picking up a second pastry and cramming it into his mouth.

“Have you quite finished? There won’t be much left for the Prince!” the servant asked as Padraig cut himself some cake and then pocketed a final pair of pastries.

“I think it’s all good,” Padraig said, swallowing a mouthful of cake.

“Perhaps we can go and serve it now?” the servant asked.

“Wait!” Padraig paused, his mouth open, his face screwed up.

“What is it?” Fallon surged forwards, trying to see what the wizard had been eating when the poison hit.

Then Padraig’s face cleared and he let rip with an enormous fart. “Been waiting to do that for a while,” he announced cheerily, as the servants hurried past, their faces averted.

Padraig watched them go and clapped Fallon on the shoulder. “I think this could become my regular job,” he said.

By the time all had eaten and Fallon checked everything was quiet and guarded, Kerrin was asleep, lying on his bed with Caley. He was tempted to leave him but he could hear Bridgit’s voice in the back of his mind, so he covered them both with blankets before getting into bed himself. He lay there in the dark, wondering what the morning would bring.