The Last Quarrel (The Complete Edition) (44 page)

Guards herded the remaining petitioners out the door, those who had seen the King in action knowing better than to protest, while servants rushed in with food and drink.

Cavan pushed himself to his feet. “Come on,” he said. “We will not get him in a better mood today, if ever.”

King Aidan had moved off his throne and down to a small table at the rear of the room. He was just tucking into a plate of chicken legs when Cavan approached, Fallon and the others a respectful distance behind.

“My son! Fresh from some night-time adventures, so I hear! What can I do for you?” Aidan greeted warmly, then tore a chunk of chicken off the bone with his teeth.

“Father, we need to speak to you about Swane and what he is doing in his rooms. My men broke in last night and discovered he is sacrificing children to Zorva to gain power,” Cavan said firmly.

Aidan chewed his mouthful slowly, then gestured with the remains of his chicken leg at a second seat. “You better sit down,” he said. “So you saw this happen?”

Cavan glanced over at Fallon, who cleared his throat.

“No, your majesty, we did not. But there was strange music, the likes of which I have never heard before, then we heard children crying and smelled what was unmistakably dead bodies before Prince Swane’s men attacked us and we had to leave.”

He braced himself for an expected rage, but King Aidan merely looked thoughtful. “Not enough evidence to confront Swane with. And I hear he covered his tracks. Yet he would have received a fright from your men breaking into what he no doubt thought was a secure area. He will be cautious for a day or two but, if what you say is true, he will be unable to stop himself. Next time you hear this music, come see me immediately and I will go in through the front door. He cannot bar a door to me,” Aidan said. “You might also give some thought to being better prepared. If you had told me what you had planned, I could have had Kelty and the Archbishop ready and Swane would not have been granted time to disguise what he had been doing. You have to wait until your foe makes a mistake and then strike, without hesitation and mercy. Understand?”

Fallon found himself forced to revise his opinion of the King. Whatever else he might be, he had seen through to the heart of the issue. He was obviously clever, when he chose to be.

Then Aidan turned to him again. “What are your talents? Is it just the shillelagh?” he asked.

“That and the crossbow, your majesty,” Fallon replied.

Aidan bit into another chicken leg. “I want to see this,” he announced through a full mouth.

Fallon glanced at Cavan but the Prince merely shrugged his shoulders. At least the King was not yelling, Fallon reflected.

Kelty signaled and two of his biggest men stepped forwards. Both were huge through the arms and chest and shoulders and twirling shillelaghs with some degree of skill.

“They were former watchmen on the docks before they joined the King’s service,” Kelty said, unasked, locking eyes with Fallon.

Fallon did not even glance at the King or at Cavan. It was obvious this was to be a stern test and he slipped out his shillelagh, feeling the comforting weight of the wood in his hands.

“When we do we begin?” he asked.

“Now,” King Aidan said, hurling a chicken bone over his shoulder.

The two guards advanced slowly, splitting apart to come at him from both sides. Fallon had no illusions about what was going on here. This was to be no friendly contest. Kelty’s pride had been dented and this was his way of getting back at Cavan. As for the King – well, he all too obviously enjoyed blood and pain. This would be the perfect lunchtime entertainment for him.

Fallon did not wait a moment. He raced to his left, towards the guard there. The hulking guard shifted his grip on the shillelagh, bringing it around in a two-handed swing that would have stove in Fallon’s chest if it had landed. But he stamped his right foot down, checking his advance in an instant, and pivoted to his left, going outside the swing and feeling the breeze of it flatten his tunic against his chest. Now the big guard was off-balance and Fallon whipped his own staff up hard and fast, smashing it into the man’s groin.

With an agonised howl, the guard let his shillelagh go flying across the room as he grabbed at himself, then he crashed down, doubled over on the floor, a trickle of vomit coming from his open mouth as he screamed silently, the pain too much to even make a further sound.

Every man in the throne room, apart from Fallon, winced as they saw it. Fallon, meanwhile, spun to face the second man, who had been rushing in but now checked in the face of his comrade’s agony.

Fallon feinted with his staff, punching one end towards the guard’s groin. The man instinctively turned and covered up, his own shillelagh coming down desperately. But it was only a bluff and Fallon struck with the other end. All those years of working with the sword posts had given him powerful wrists and they were strong enough to be flexible even under the hefty weight of the shillelagh. The staff crunched down on the guard’s right thumb, shattering the bone and making him shout with pain.

The guard swung his staff left-handed, lashing it from side to side, but Fallon slipped his hands apart and held his staff vertically, used it to block a blow that way. He punched his right hand, the bottom hand, out and away, driving the guard’s staff back and wide, then slammed the other end forward, driving the steel-capped tip into the guard’s mouth with all the power of his arm, back and legs.

Teeth went flying and blood exploded from torn lips and tongue as the guard lost his shillelagh and dropped like a stone.

Fallon watched him bounce limply onto the floor and knew he was not getting up again for a while. He turned to check on the other guard, seeing him still locked into the fetal position, hands clasped between his legs, which were now spasming weakly. His eyes were open but unseeing, so Fallon slipped his shillelagh back into its sheath.

King Aidan thumped the table in approval and his eyes looked calculating when Fallon met them. “Now I can see how Eamon fell,” he said heartily. “Are you as good with the crossbow as you are with that stick?”

“Better,” Fallon said, knowing that modesty would not sit well with the King.

“Then let us see,” Aidan held his hand in the air.

The two guards were dragged away and crossbows brought in, the first handed over to Fallon.

“See if you can hit that cup on the table over there. But be careful. The Kottermani hanging behind it is worth more than you and all of your men can earn in a year,” Aidan said, waving the chicken bone towards a table on the other side of the room.

Fallon took a breath and brought the weapon into his shoulder. It was not his crossbow and he would have liked the chance to see how this one fired, whether it pulled to the left or right, or up or down. But it was obvious that was not going to be allowed.

He sighted on the clay cup, let his breath out and then loosed, to see the bolt streak away and smash the cup off the table, scattering water into the air.

“Excellent!” King Aidan pounded the table with a chicken leg. “Again!”

Fallon went to reload but was instead handed a new crossbow by an impassive Kelty.

“It doesn’t do to keep the King waiting,” he said softly.

“The shield on the wall up there.” Aidan pointed up to an upper gallery, where half a shield was visible between two supporting posts.

Fallon smiled mirthlessly. It looked like a big target but, thanks to the upwards angle and the posts, if this crossbow was even slightly off true, he would miss. Of course he knew that complaining would get him only contempt from King Aidan.

So he threw the crossbow to his shoulder and sighted on the target. He felt a quiver of nerves but quelled it ruthlessly. This was what he had practiced for over the years, was why he had Brendan, Devlin and Gallagher shout and yell at him while he aimed – so he could block everything out and still loose true. He released the trigger smoothly and saw the bolt flicker up between the posts and strike the shield with a ringing noise.

“Very good! Another?” King Aidan invited.

Wordlessly, Fallon held out his hand for a new crossbow and then put a bolt into the forehead of a long-forgotten king, whose painting was partly obscured by a Kottermani tapestry.

“Now that’s some shooting! Kelty, I doubt you have anyone to match him!” Aidan said enthusiastically through a mouth crammed with chicken.

“Of course it is easy enough to do in here, where there is not the noise of battle going on all around,” Kelty said.

“I thought it was a little quiet. Maybe you should make some more noise,” Fallon suggested, taking a fourth crossbow.

“Do it, while he shoots at an apple,” King Aidan said.

“And where is the apple I should aim for, your majesty?” Fallon asked politely.

“In my son’s hand,” King Aidan said easily.

Fallon glanced over to where Cavan stood, a half-eaten apple in his hand. The Prince looked stunned while Fallon was sure his own face looked exactly the same.

“Was I not clear? There is your target! Now walk ten paces away and shoot while Kelty and his men attempt to put you off!” Aidan roared.

“Father, at least let Fallon use his own crossbow –” Cavan began.

“I will be obeyed! Do it or you become the new target!” Aidan bellowed.

“Your majesty.” Fallon gave a short bow and then marched back the required distance. He checked the quarrel in its groove, as he always did. Everything about the bow seemed normal, so this did not appear to be an elaborate attempt to get Cavan killed. But of course he could not be sure.

“Ready,” he said, taking up his stance.

Cavan, on the other hand, did not seem at all keen to hold what was left of his apple up.

“I want to see this. And if you want my help with your brother, then you will do it,” Aidan threatened.

“But it is foolishness! Fallon has shown how good he is with a crossbow; this is just to torment me,” Cavan said angrily.

“Do you trust this man with your life or not? Because it is your decision. Stand there and hold up the apple, or he is dismissed from your service, along with every other man he brought with him from Lunster, against the express orders of Duchess Dina. Which means he will go from your service into my cells,” Aidan said, his voice impossibly hard and cold.

Both Fallon and Cavan looked at him in shock.

“Oh yes, I know exactly where you come from, Fallon of Baltimore. And I know why you are here. So if you want to see your families again, you will do exactly as I say, both of you!”

Fallon glanced across at Cavan, seeing the shock and fear on the Prince’s face. He felt the same but saw instantly that they would have to play Aidan’s game. It was a clear warning to underestimate the King at their peril. Just when one thought he was a violent fool, interested only in his own pleasure, he showed a different side.

“Hold it out at shoulder level please, highness,” Fallon said, his voice completely steady.

Cavan looked uncertain but Fallon gave him a small nod of encouragement and the Prince held the fruit out at arm’s length, resting it on his fingers.

“Good!” Aidan said approvingly and then began to bang on the table with his fist. “Make some noise!”

Instantly Kelty and his men were stamping and shouting and drumming, until the throne room echoed with the noise.

“Throw it!” Fallon bellowed.

He saw understanding bloom on Cavan’s face and the Prince shifted his grip and tossed the apple into the air. Fallon brought the crossbow into his shoulder, tracking its uneven flight. It was an impossibly difficult shot but he did not care. The noise from Kelty and his guards faded into the background and disappeared as he followed the path of the apple. This would work because he willed it to work, because he could not stand the thought of this foul King having the last laugh. He took all his fear for Bridgit and the other lost families, his anger at what he had seen in Berry and his loathing for the King, and poured it all into that quarrel. He released the trigger and knew it would hit before the apple exploded and pieces spattered over everyone.

He brought the crossbow down and stared defiantly at King Aidan, who had a small piece of apple sitting in his hair.

For a long moment there was silence in the throne room, then Aidan picked the apple out of his hair and popped it into his mouth. “Delicious! And what a shot! My son was right indeed to choose you as his captain.” the King grinned, and slapped his hand on the table. “Now come sit with me and we shall talk.”

Fallon handed the empty crossbow back to Kelty, who gave him a curious look. Fallon ignored him, instead looking at Cavan. The Prince looked both pleased and surprised and gave Fallon a careful wink. Fallon slipped off the baldric that held his shillelagh and handed it to Brendan before joining the King and Crown Prince.

“I have been wondering what to do with you, Fallon,” King Aidan said conspiratorially, leaning across the table. “The Duchess Dina is furious. She thought you would be her new captain of guards, after her last one disappeared, only for you to steal her husband’s ship and sail here. A ship that is even now sitting in my harbor.”

Fallon kept his face still.

“I was the one who ordered Fallon to sail here and, of course, faced with an order from the Crown Prince and one from a mere Duchess, he had no choice but to obey me,” Cavan said quickly.

“That was what I was thinking.” Aidan nodded thoughtfully. “But there must have been something else that drove you here. After all, my son had been back in Berry for many days when you left your home in Baltimore. And your families had been taken. So why not search for them? Why come here?”

Fallon took a deep breath. He knew this could go either way, having seen the King in action with his petitioners. But Aidan seemed to be in a good mood and he guessed there would be no better opportunity. Just as long as he did not mention the Kottermanis.

“Your majesty, we do not search because we know where our families are and that it was men who took them,” he said.

Aidan rocked back in his chair a little. “Men took them? Not selkies?” he asked, his eyes narrowing.

“Your majesty, I know it was men. We even found the weapons they were using to bring down our people – small crossbow bolts with blunt heads to stun, rather than kill,” Fallon replied easily.

Aidan rubbed his chin for a moment. Fallon tensed himself, wondering if the King would order his arrest. He glanced over at Cavan and saw the same worry there.

“I should like to see those,” Aidan said thoughtfully. “Perhaps it is that both men
and
selkies are striking at my people.”

Fallon felt a wild hope rising in his chest and sat straighter, determined not to look at Cavan in case it was some sort of trap. Earlier he would not have thought so but now he was more wary of the King.

“Tell me, Fallon, what would you do to get your family back?”

“Anything, your majesty,” Fallon said immediately, the vehemence in his tone making Aidan’s eyebrow raise.

“I like that,” the King said approvingly. “A man with a purpose can achieve much in this world. No doubt my son has promised you that he will return your families, winning your instant loyalty. Would you be as loyal to me, were I to make the same offer?”

“Sire, I am loyal to you anyway. You are my King,” Fallon said swiftly.

“Very good!” Aidan chuckled. “Well, I should certainly like to see this crossbow bolt you found, as well as anything else you have discovered.”

“Of course, your majesty.” Fallon inclined his head, wondering whether he should feel excited, relieved or worried that the King was taking so much interest in him.

“Father, I am sure that Swane is behind not just the raids on the coast but the stealing of children,” Cavan said. “And we know he wants your throne. The betrayal of Eamon and the attempt on my life is just more evidence of that. Please, let me take my men and search his rooms properly. All we need is half a day and we can present you with all the evidence you could ever want.”

Fallon looked at the King carefully, feeling the hope rise again. Surely, the mood Aidan was in, he would grant this request.

Instead the King shook his head, sucking in his breath as he chewed on his bottom lip. “Easier said than done, my son,” he finally said regretfully. “I hear what you are saying and it is indeed tempting to make our move. But what if you were to find nothing? Kelty searched thoroughly and could not find anything. Swane could demand your men be expelled from this castle then and we would be in far more trouble. He has already begun to woo some of the nobles. And let’s be honest, not all of them love me. My relationship with some of those fools and ingrates is not always the best. The latest one upset with me, so I hear, is the Count of Londegal. Who knows why?”

Fallon could not help but glance at Cavan. He could see the Prince was remembering the same thing – the Count’s new mistress being raped across the banquet table.

“Then there is the Kotterman Empire. We look on them as friendly but they have more soldiers than we have trees and more ships than we have sheep. At the moment we are amusing and profitable for them but the son of the Emperor is coming here for talks next moon, talks which could change the course of Gaelish history. I have no doubt half my nobles are feeding them information in exchange for gold. The news that my sons are at each other’s throats would reach the Kottermanis, and what if they make an offer to Swane? Their soldiers to help him take Gaelland? We have to be careful until these talks are finished. Once they’re over, of course, then it is a different matter. I think we need to play this cleverly.”

“But father, we tried this once before and he responded by having Eamon try to kill me!” Cavan protested.

Aidan held up his hand. “I know. But now you have Fallon, and more than enough guards to take care of you. And I do not mean do nothing, just don’t move directly against Swane. If you come across proof he is in league with Zorva then bring it to me and you have my word I shall use it to get your families back. So get me some evidence! Meanwhile, do nothing to provoke Prince Swane. Is that understood?”

“Yes, your majesty,” Fallon said instantly.

“Yes, Father, I understand,” Cavan said reluctantly.

“Good!” Aidan clapped his hands together. “Now get out of here, all of you. I need to sleep.”

“You did well, very well,” Cavan said. “When you agreed to shoot that apple my heart was in my throat, then when you told me to throw it in the air I thought you were mad – yet you hit it!”

“Proof that Aroaril smiles on the ugly and stupid,” Brendan cut in, patting Fallon on the back. The three of them were alone in the Prince’s room.

“I was never going to miss that apple, not then and there.” Fallon winked.

“Well, it did the job. Now my father likes you. And that is indeed valuable. You should encourage him.”

“Encourage him?” Fallon asked with a laugh.

“He was testing you. And he will keep testing you. He is a strange man sometimes – well usually. He has his favorites and if you can become one of those, you can do no wrong. He will do anything for you.”

“Including getting back our families?” Fallon asked through a suddenly dry mouth.

“Including that,” Cavan agreed. “As I said, nothing is too much.”

Fallon leaned back in his chair. “And where would that leave you, if he thinks I am more his man than yours?”

“Protected, I hope,” Cavan said wryly. “The important thing is to keep searching for evidence of what Swane is up to. Then, when my father is free of this Kottermani Prince, he will not escape justice.”

“That all sounds very well but meanwhile he is free and able to spread his evil. What about the children he has taken? More could be dying even now!” Fallon protested.

Cavan sighed. “I know. And I bear the guilt of that, having allowed two more to be taken. But my father is right – Swane will have hidden all the evidence by now. We need to redouble our efforts to find the snatchers in the street and to link him to Eamon through the Moneylenders Guild.”

“And if your father approaches me?”

“Then go along with it, no matter what it is. His mind does not work like other people’s. For most it would seem like madness, but he has something planned. Aroaril knows what it is, and it may make little sense to us when we discover it, but there is more to this than meets the eye.”

“And you think he might tell me if I win his confidence?” Fallon asked, feeling as if he was understanding this crazy court a little better.

“Well, maybe not everything. He rarely tells anyone what he is doing, or why. But it is our best chance of finding out something.”

Fallon nodded. “Then I shall do what I can.”

Cavan reached out a hand to grasp his shoulder. “I trust you, Fallon,” he said. “But I have to warn you, my father will not make things easy for you to get anything out of him. He can be charming, when he wants, but he always keeps his own counsel.”

Fallon shook his head. “What is it, highness? Do you think I could desert you for your father?”

“My head knows that is impossible but I also trusted Eamon and he almost killed me. It is foolish: I know you are not Eamon but I have the strangest feeling about the way my father looked when he talked to you.”

Fallon nodded but signaled to Brendan to leave. There was more to this than what Cavan was saying but he was not sure that the prince would speak his mind in front of too many others. He waited until Brendan was out of the room and then moved his chair closer to Cavan.

“Highness, what is it?” he asked gently.

Cavan found it hard to speak around the lump in his throat. Memories of his childhood rose from deep inside, where he had forced them and tried to bury them. He wanted to tell the truth but could not. Not yet. The memory of Eamon’s betrayal was there but, more importantly, he could drive Fallon away. The story was so twisted, it made some of the darkness that was going on now seem almost pleasant. And he needed the man’s help. Badly.

“Do you know he forced me to burn an innocent woman at the stake for being a witch?” he said instead. “I went along thinking it was just a normal duty, perhaps the opening of a Guild office or some such, only to arrive in the middle of a crowd baying for a woman’s blood. She begged me to save her but I didn’t. I let her be dragged to the stake by Kelty’s men and burned.”

“Aroaril!” Fallon breathed, his face twisting in disgust.

“I told myself my father had ordered her death and nothing was going to stop that. But I should have tried,” Cavan said brokenly, feeling anew the self-loathing from that moment. “Everyone was telling me she had to die and I wasn’t strong enough to stand up to them.”

“What would you do now?” Fallon asked.

Cavan could feel the tears in his eyes but he blinked them away. “I would stop it. I wouldn’t care now.”

He looked up to see Fallon gazing at him. “I believe you would,” the man said softly.

“I could not stand to feel this way again. It still haunts me,” Cavan confessed.

“I would like to say you have learned a valuable lesson but I doubt the woman who was burned to death as a witch would agree,” Fallon said. “If you are looking for forgiveness from me then you will be disappointed. But I can promise that as long as I serve you, I will not let it happen again.”

Cavan smiled. “You know, that makes me feel better than if you had sympathized. Eamon and Niall told me over and over again that it was not my fault and I had no choice. Every time they said that, I felt worse.”

He looked anxiously at Fallon, who gave him a half-smile.

“I think you are the last and best hope for this country. But that does not mean I will say only what you want to hear,” he said.

“Good!” Cavan clapped his hands. “I command you to only tell me the truth. And I will thank you for it.”

“Not many Kings would say that,” Fallon observed.

“Maybe. But I do. And thank you for listening to me, really listening, not just nodding your head when I talk, like so many others do.”

“Aye, well I’ve been married for half my life, so I’m used to being forced to listen,” Fallon said with a wink.

Cavan nodded, hoping Fallon would not ask him again about the lack of mistresses and women in general in his rooms. For that would lead into stranger questions and he would have to tell Fallon everything about his past and his childhood, growing up with Swane and Aidan. And he was not ready to do that.

“Well, I thank you again. It must be strange for you to hear such things, tales of a son despising his father. You are obviously a wonderful father and you and Kerrin must be greatly comforted because you have each other. I am sure you want to go and see your son now. I have been taking up too much of your time.”