The Last Quarrel (The Complete Edition) (47 page)

BOOK: The Last Quarrel (The Complete Edition)
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CHAPTER 41

“So what is the latest?” Fallon asked.

“We have been trailing the Kottermanis but I fear they know they are being followed. They are splitting into smaller parties and scattering into side streets. I am sure they are meeting with Swane’s agents, for they take too long to make it back to the docks. We just can’t prove it,” Gallagher said.

“The Guildsmen never got back to us about Swane,” Devlin said. “So Prince Cavan had me deliver a formal warning to them, saying he will call for an investigation into their license and intends to see it revoked. It might scare them into revealing something. Meanwhile we have tried to keep an eye on those Guildsmen, but it has been difficult. One thing we know is they have been meeting with men from other Guilds. But what they have been saying or whether that is normal, we don’t know.”

“We need to change over the men we have here and the ones on the ship with Murphy. The ones on the ship are getting restless and bored and there’s been talk that we are just wasting time here and maybe we’ll never get back our families,” Gallagher said.

“We’ll do that right away,” Fallon said. “Do they need me to speak to them?”

“Not yet,” Gallagher judged. “If they get time here, then they will see we are working to find out what happened to the families. And, of course, they also get to enjoy living here.”

“True. We’ll keep them busy here. We’ve been kicking the doors down of every house in the city that’s deserted and searching through it. So far we’ve found nothing,” Fallon said. “But at least we have not heard of more children being taken. The snatchers seem to have disappeared.”

“Well, that is good,” Devlin said. “Perhaps we have scared them off.”

“That has not stopped another five women being burned at the stake in the last few days,” Rosaleen said sadly. “A sixth was hurled into the harbor and drowned, and pronounced an innocent woman.”

“Maybe we need to get up onto the rooftops,” Fallon mused. “They must be still out there. Maybe we need to look again at the list of fake owners the Prince was chasing. Maybe they own houses elsewhere and the people living there don’t know the top story is a hideout for the snatchers?”

“I think we are making a mistake,” Padraig said slowly, cradling a small glass of wine.

“What, in giving you something to drink or listening to you?” Gallagher asked.

The wizard looked up sharply and Gallagher shrugged. “Well, if Devlin won’t make the jokes then someone should.”

“Speak, Padraig,” Fallon said.

“I think we need to leave now, tonight, get out on the ship and head over to Kotterman and search for our families there. All is lost here.”

Fallon glanced over at his friends, who looked back just as incredulously. Only Rosaleen nodded her agreement with the wizard.

“But the Crown Prince trusts us and now the King has told me he will give us back our families if I do one task for him. I know his word cannot be taken but, even if he lied, then there is always Cavan. He has promised to get our families back.”

“I agree that Cavan can be trusted. But he is not the problem. Berry feels much like it did when I tried to come here and make a living, when Bridgit was a girl –”

“You can’t compare the two. You were a young wizard trying to take on the big Guilds. We are here serving the Crown Prince,” Fallon interrupted.

Padraig slammed his glass down on the table, sending wine slopping over the edge. “Listen to me! What I was trying to say is that everything looks good on the surface but, behind, there are dark things going on.”

“We know that. Swane has a Fearpriest hidden away somewhere,” Brendan said.

“We know about one Fearpriest. But there is more to it than that. I believe we are flies scurrying around on a spider’s web, not knowing that we are about to become prey.”

“How much have you had to drink?” Devlin asked.

“Padraig is right, even if he is not finding the right words,” Rosaleen said.

“We think we are making a difference; we think we can get our families back by saving Cavan from the plots of his brother. But we are like a bunch of sheep thinking we have persuaded the farmer to take us where we want, only to learn too late that it is to the butcher,” Padraig said passionately.

Gallagher rubbed his face with his hands. “It has been a long day. How about we talk plainly, instead of searching for answers better left to a church sermon?”

“We are being played for fools,” Padraig told him sharply. “We have walked into the middle of a fight for control of this country. They had it all set up nicely for Cavan to be betrayed and killed by his bodyguard, leaving Swane as the only heir to the throne. Then we arrived and wrecked that clever little plan. We think us coming here has changed things. It hasn’t. We surprised them for a while but they are now preparing to use us or kill us. We think we are helping Cavan, but he is a dead man: we just have to choose whether we die with him or sail away and try to save ourselves and our families.”

“I cannot believe that,” Fallon said instantly.

“This is not some petty dispute of the nobility. This is a battle between good and evil. And there is little fighting on the side of good. King Aidan doesn’t care what happens in his kingdom, as long as he and his friends are made richer. Swane has given himself to Zorva and will not stop until this kingdom is his own. Do you really think Cavan can stop them?”

Fallon looked over at Rosaleen. “What do you think?” he challenged.

Rosaleen smiled briefly. “Padraig is right to worry about Swane. He is like a tick that has got into a sheep. He has been there too long and he has poisoned everything.”

“Now you are trying to use farming stories to make yourself sound wiser too!” Brendan groaned. “Aroaril save us!”

“You might just need that. Because it is going to get bloody around here very soon,” Rosaleen snapped.

Fallon rapped his knuckles on the table. “So what makes you think Cavan is a dead man walking?”

“I have seen nothing,” Rosaleen admitted. “But I feel everything. As does Padraig. We can sense the evil billowing out from underneath us. It has seeped into the stones of this castle. We think we know what dangers we face. We don’t. It is far worse than we can imagine.”

“Aye. And we cannot do anything about it, so we should leave now, while we still can!” Padraig added.

Fallon turned to Rosaleen. “Do you believe that evil has already won here and we should run away?”

The priestess sighed. “I cannot tell you to run away. That goes against everything I believe in. But make no mistake: we will face something truly dark if we stay. The evil in this place has only shown us one of its claws. It is far larger than we can imagine.”

“So we just abandon Cavan to his brother? Let him be killed? Or do we slit his throat in the night first, to make it easier for them?” Fallon asked harshly.

“Take him with us. We use him to help find our families in Kotterman and then sail away, start again somewhere,” Padraig said, his voice pleading.

Fallon shook his head. “And so condemning every man, woman and child in Gaelland to a life of evil? There will be nothing to stop King Aidan, let alone the Fearpriest! We have a chance here. Cavan is a good man and he will make a great King. This country could be a wonderful place under him. We cannot walk away from that. We can beat this evil and then everything will change.”

“This is not like the stories you tell Kerrin at night. There will be no happy ending,” Padraig said. “I can feel it. It will end in tragedy. I tried to stay and fight, to make things better. It all went wrong and I have regretted it ever since. I would not like to see you do the same.”

Fallon looked at Padraig carefully. He had begun to respect the man. He had even begun to think the old wizard was speaking sense. But this was ridiculous.

“This is completely different,” he said. “And I will not believe we have lost before we have even begun to fight. You said so yourself: we ruined their plans before. We can do so again. Cavan is still alive and while he lives, there is hope. If we walk away, he is a dead man. Swane will make sure at least one of his men is among the Prince’s new guards and this time they will not make a mistake – nor will we be here to save him. That means Swane takes over the country and evil comes to rule us. Can you walk away from that, knowing we might have stopped it?”

“I cannot,” Rosaleen said.

“It’s too late for Gaelland,” Padraig said. “You cannot turn back the tide with a bucket.”

“Finally one of your sayings that I can understand!” Gallagher exclaimed.

Fallon ignored his friend. “Sailing off into the unknown and landing in Kotterman to try and find our people is no less risky. We could all be killed before we take a step onto Kottermani soil.”

“True. But I fear there will come a time when we look back on this decision and regret not leaving,” Padraig said.

“We will regret it even more if we go,” Fallon countered.

Padraig rubbed his face with his hands. “You don’t know what you are up against. That other night, when we broke into Swane’s rooms, that was nothing. This business with the children being stolen and our villages sacked, that shows they have been planning this for many moons. And we think a handful of villagers can make a difference?”

“Why not?” Fallon asked. “We already have. And how can I face my son and tell him to stand up and be a man, that you have to face your fears – when I run away from nothing?”

Padraig’s hands were clenched together on the table and now he squeezed them so hard it looked like his knuckles might pop. “And if it comes down to a choice between Cavan and Bridgit?” he asked.

“But that is not a choice we face. Cavan and the King are our best chances of getting our families back. How would we feel if we walked away, Swane took over
and
we failed to find them? We would always be haunted by the thought we could have done more.”

Padraig smiled weakly. “Well, I tried to warn you. At least I will be able to say that.”

Fallon patted the tabletop. “We need to do everything we can. Gall, I want you to head back to the ship and make sure Murphy is keeping it ready. We need to be able to cast off at a moment’s notice. If things do go as badly as Padraig fears, that is our way out. We’ll tell all the men that if the worst happens, just get out and meet back at the ship. Then I want Rosaleen and Padraig to go around every room and leave some sort of magical ward, something that will alert us if the Fearpriest comes at us.”

“We can do that.” Rosaleen nodded.

“Remember what we are fighting for,” Fallon said softly. “Cavan as King would change this whole country – and give us back our families.”

“As long as he still breathes,” Padraig said, pushing back his chair and standing.

“Padraig, I don’t want –” Fallon began.

“I know. None of what we have said is to go beyond this room. I think staying here is foolish – but I will do whatever I can to help you.”

“What about the rest of you? What do you think? I want to help Cavan but I can’t do it without you.”

“We’re with you until the end. You don’t even have to ask,” Gallagher said.

“Good. Now let’s all remember this talk, so we can laugh about it in years to come. But we must forget it for now, because we have to watch Prince Cavan stand in for his father to hear the pleas of the people. Keep following the Kottermanis and Guildsmen. Something will happen soon.”

*

Fallon stood stiffly beside the royal dais. Cavan was not in his father’s chair, the great formal throne, where King Aidan greeted the nobles and terrified anyone coming before him. Instead he sat off to the right, in an ordinary chair, although it was granted special powers by being on the same level as the throne.

Cavan had explained that did not mean he had any special powers to make rulings, of course. He would pronounce them, but his father’s chamberlain, Regan, a tall lean man with a bald crown and just a tuft of hair around his ears, stood behind him, a thick sheaf of documents in his hands. He was the one who made all the decisions; Cavan was just the puppet. The judgments had already been made, bribes had been accepted and Cavan was just there to give the illusion the Crown actually cared about the people. Fallon burned inside at the thought.

“The Duke of Rilemick to answer charges of unpaid taxes,” Chamberlain Regan intoned.

Of course the noble has to be first, while the poor wait their turn and hope their pleas will actually be heard
, Fallon thought sourly.

The Duke was a plump, perspiring man who mopped his forehead with a silken Kottermani handkerchief that would have cost as much as a laborer would earn in a moon.

“Times are lean,” he began, then frowned at the chuckles that followed his remark. “Things are hard. I have had to throw a score of families off my land for unpaid taxes, while dozens of others are behind in their rents. If I am not paid my dues, then I cannot pass on to the Crown what it is owed.”

Fallon regarded the Duke critically. The man’s clothes would have cost a handful of gold, and that was without taking into account the value of his jewelry.

“Why could they not pay their taxes?” Cavan asked. “Surely you could have confiscated some of their property, rather than throwing them off the land. For now you are receiving nothing from the empty farms.”

“They ate their taxes, highness. And they had nothing else of value. It is not just in Rilemick that this is going on, either. If the Crown would see its way clear to reducing the taxes it levies on the nobles then perhaps we could help these people.”

The Duke smiled round at the rumble of approval he received from the packed throne room and Fallon looked at him with a little more respect. But then Regan cleared his throat gently and Cavan sighed and leaned forwards.

“If you wish to tell King Aidan that his taxes are unfair, then I am sure I can arrange an audience for you,” he said.

The Duke’s smile was wiped off in an instant and he bowed low. “We must all do our part. I understand that and shall redouble my efforts to provide the Crown with what it needs from my humble county.”

Cavan glanced over his shoulder and took the parchment that Regan handed him. “You have until harvest time to make good what you owe, or the Crown will take part of your land for itself,” he read dully.

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