by Duncan Lay
“This looks quite generous. Do we have so much in the warehouses?” he asked.
Bridgit chuckled. “This is what they will get for a quarter moon! And for the first moon or so they will have beef or lamb as the meat. We shall keep the bacon for later and the dried fish for last. Most people only eat two meals a day anyway and those that don’t will learn to soon enough. They can have porridge to break their fast, then meat and vegetables after work. It will keep them full, even if they will be sick of it by the time spring is here. Pregnant women and families with young children will get twice as much cheese. Now, we cannot have people queuing up every day, not only would we never get finished but no work would get done around the city. No, we shall have part of the city come in each day, to get their food for the next quarter-moon. That way we can keep order.”
“What about the sick? They might need extra food to recover, once we have healed them,” Rosaleen warned.
“And then there’s the recruits. They need to eat more meat to stay strong,” Devlin added.
“I know all that!” Bridgit said testily. “We have been working on nothing else these past days. The recruits will get twice as much meat, while the sick will get extra vegetables. But they will have to prove they were sick. I know what people will do to get more food.”
“Surely people are not going to pretend to be ill?” Devlin cried.
“They will do anything after a moon or two of this,” Bridgit said warningly. “By the end of winter they will be starving their children to get more food out of us – anything they can think of and plenty we haven’t.”
“Well, I don’t know about that. But is it enough food? I reckon I could eat that in a day, let alone a week. What if people fill their bellies on the first few days and then go hungry?” Brendan asked.
“Well, they will only do that once,” Bridgit said. She felt the familiar churning in her stomach that said she was afraid but she breathed through her nose and reminded herself this was different. This was not the ship sailing back from Adana. There would be plenty of extra food hidden away in larders and cellars inside this city. On the ship, there had been no way to get extra food beyond trying to fish. Here, there were many ways. And they were not alone.
“Will this get us through not just to spring but until the new harvests start to come in?” Fallon asked.
“It should. It won’t give us much of a reserve and we will need to begin bringing in fish as soon as the seas calm a little,” she admitted. “We could also wait and see which families seem to be keeping the weight on. If they are poor, that will mean they are stealing food, if they are rich that means they are hoarding it and we have to punish them.”
“And how do we do that?” Fallon asked.
“Well, it has to be severe, so no others do it. I would suggest the stocks but we can’t waste food to throw at them. Perhaps their ration will be cut in half for the next quarter-moon.”
“That’s not going to make us popular,” Fallon observed.
“Keeping them alive through winter will make us popular,” she retorted, remembering what had happened with Blaine and Carrick and how she had to tell the families of the wounded men that their loved ones could not be given food or water and had to be left to die. “We have to be strong from the start, or we shall have to be twice as bad afterwards.”
“For Aroaril’s sake, listen to your wife!” Riona said fiercely. “She has been through this before and has the scars to prove it.”
Bridgit unconsciously reached up and scratched the scar on her breastbone, left there by Carrick’s knife.
“We will do all you say,” Fallon agreed and she could see he had remembered the tale as well. “We had better start soon, for we shall need all our soldiers for the first few days and we have to get the Kottermanis out of here as well.”
*
Bridgit felt as though all she had been doing for days was counting barrels of food and sides of bacon and looking through sheaves of parchment. The scribes from the Bankers Guild had been invaluable. Used to adding up long columns of numbers, she could give them the figures and they would come back with answers a few turns of the hourglass later. They had been at a loss without anything to do and she had given them new purpose. She had divided them into two groups, each headed by a woman about her own age. She instinctively liked them both; Glenda was calm and organized while Ann was more inclined to tell hilarious stories about the fools she had worked for at the Guild but both were able to power through the work.
Now she had them working on a way to make people pay at least a little for the food. The richer would pay more, the poor only what they had. It was incredibly complicated but both Glenda and Ann worked hard and complained not at all. Bridgit’s head was whirling, however, and to clear it she went looking for Kerrin.
Talking to him was different now and while she loved the fact he was stronger and healthier than she had ever seen or dreamed possible, there was a part of her that wished for her little boy back. It was hard to see him wanting to do things without her. Yes, there were times when all he wanted to do was sit with her, read a book and talk, but now he could only do that for a turn of the hourglass before he became restless and wanted to go and use a crossbow or throw a knife. Maybe now that she had more time she could bring him back to the boy he had been.
She found him in the castle courtyard, near the crossbow range. He was looking innocent enough but splintered targets suggested he had been practicing with the weapon again.
She gave him a hug. “I thought we said you didn’t need to do that anymore,” she said.
“I haven’t been using it,” he said.
She just looked at him and he dropped his eyes. “I like using the crossbow,” he muttered.
She embraced him again. “You can put that down. I promise you,” she said.
“But I have to be ready if anyone comes for you again,” he said. “Or if Dad is in danger.”
She sighed. Yes, she was glad not to be living in fear anymore. But sometimes she would take imagined fears over real ones, such as invading armies and Fearpriests plotting their deaths.
“How about we go to the kitchen and make some honeycakes. Before all the flour gets used up,” she suggested brightly.
He grinned and, for a moment, looked just like the little boy from Baltimore.
“Great,” he said. “But first I have to return this crossbow I found.”
She ran her fingers through his hair and sniffed back the tears before he saw them. What have we done to our boy?
*
Fallon patted Caley absently as he watched his men in action. Many of his original recruits had come from country areas, where they had used slings growing up. The city men had rarely used them, for a sling was a country weapon, perfect for children to knock down birds and knock over hares to add to the pot. Many of them had not used a sling for ten summers or more but it was a skill not easily forgotten and he watched admiringly as they sent stone after stone whizzing into the straw targets, sending puffs of straw into the air with every strike. He had sent a company of men to the nearest beaches at low tide and they had returned with wagonloads of perfectly smooth, egg-sized stones. At anything up to a hundred paces they would be deadly. The men whirled the slings around their heads and then released, the missiles making a whipping sound as they shot through the air.
“Faster than crossbow bolts and, at fifty paces, just as accurate,” Devlin said.
“Not quite the same though,” Fallon said sadly.
“Well, it’s not like we will get sent from the field of battle for breaking rules,” Devlin said with a wink.
Fallon grinned. “If only the new men were coming on as well with their sword and spear work.”
Devlin grimaced but was saved from replying by Padraig’s approach.
“Come up with a way to magically improve the new recruits?” the farmer asked with a wink.
But the old wizard’s face did not even break into a smile.
“We
have a problem. And we might need to use these men sooner than we thought,” he said urgently.
“How do you mean?” Fallon demanded.
“Not here. Let’s talk inside the castle,” Padraig said, glancing meaningfully upwards.
Fallon and Devlin looked up, to see a handful of birds circling overhead.
“What, are you afraid of being crapped on?” Devlin asked.
Padraig shook his head. “Not here. Inside,” he said insistently.
*
Getting everyone inside had been difficult, with Rosaleen particularly hard to find, but eventually they were all together, watching Padraig cover the windows with sacking.
“Can you please tell us what this is about?” Bridgit pleaded.
Padraig sighed. “I am sorry to be so mysterious but we cannot take chances. Today I tried to see what Swane is up to over the Spine but I could not. Finbar and the other wizards that fled Berry have cast a net across it. I cannot get a bird there. That was not unexpected but then I tried closer to home and found I cannot even look at the towns in the west. Now that scares me. Why would they do that unless they are planning something?”
“We did it to them. And, after all, they expect us to attack them,” Devlin pointed out.
“In the spring,” Padraig said. “Not the middle of winter.”
“How much magic would it take to get an army across the Spine in winter?” Fallon asked.
The old wizard whistled. “A fearful amount. You would need the entire Guild working at it and even then you would have to push men and beasts almost to their death, for you are not talking about one piece of magic but a sustained effort for days. And, by the end of it, most of those wizards would be helpless and a few might even die along the way.”
“Unless Swane has learned to help them with blood magic,” Rosaleen said softly.
Fallon felt a touch of fear but quashed it. “That cannot have happened. I killed his Fearpriest and Swane ran rather than face us. If he had Zorva’s power, he would’ve been back here before now.”
“There’s only one way to know for sure. We need to get out into the countryside and see what’s going on,” Bridgit said.
“We can’t just leave the city undefended,” Fallon said.
“What about your new army? Can we use them?”
“Not yet,” he said. “They aren’t even half-trained, and we can’t even be sure they can be fully trusted. Many of them worked for the Guilds, or the merchants.”
“Well then, leave me two companies to look after the food warehouses, as well as Gannon and his Lunstermen to keep us safe. The city is still with us and quiet enough. We’ll be fine. Besides, you were going to escort the Kottermanis down to Baltimore anyway.”
“But can they be trusted to leave our people alone?” Nola asked.
“We have their prince. We’ll tell them if they cause any trouble then we kill him,” Fallon said.
“It’s settled then. You march out tomorrow and leave us to take care of the city and the food rationing,” Bridgit said.
“Are you going to be all right?” Fallon asked, before he could stop himself.
She raised her eyebrows at him. “We managed to escape from Kotterman without you. I think we can handle this.”
*
Munro allowed himself a smile of mild satisfaction.
“I now have access to the castle and to three of the women on this self-styled Ruling Council,” he said. “Already that has proved fruitful. I have learned they intend to make lists of every person in Berry, to allow food to be rationed out over winter and a fair price paid by each. We have to make the people angry and ungrateful, rather than relieved that they are going to be fed through winter.”
His lieutenants nodded, none looking happy.
“We need something to change our fortunes,” Jen said. Munro found it ironic she was willing to say what the men were afraid to. “We are not having much luck stirring people to anger. They still see Fallon and his Ruling Council as their saviors.”
“The biggest landslide starts with a small pebble,” Munro said. “Keep sowing the seeds of discord and we shall reap a grand harvest. Remind people that we are shipping cartloads of food off to feed the Kottermani prisoners, while the Ruling Council enjoyed a feast for their friends where everyone ate until bursting, just like the nobles of old. And I hear there is talk of people being made to pay for their food rations. That will play into our hands. The rich will want more for their money while the poor will resent paying anything.”
“Should we also say they are spending people’s coins on pretty new dresses?” Jen suggested.
“No,” Munro said immediately. “There can be no suspicion on me. Being able to get in and out of the castle is vital. Now leave me. You have work to do.”
Chastened, they took their leave to begin their new round of whispering in the streets. Munro did not add that he needed access to the castle because he had to get into Swane’s old rooms. That was information they did not need. At the moment he was watched and escorted from the moment he stepped inside the castle to the gates again. But that would change, he knew. He just needed half a turn of the hourglass and Duchess Dina would have what she needed.
*
“This is madness!” Riona cried.
Bridgit would have agreed with her but doubted she could be heard over the din. As she had feared but not mentioned to Fallon, the day of the name-taking for rationing was chaos. Rather than have the entire city turn up at the castle, they had split the city into quarters and town criers had been going around the city for the past two days, announcing what was happening and where to go.
That had led to its own problems, for scores of merchants had taken that as their cue to come and complain about their goods being seized and being handed out. Bridgit had their names and claims taken down and issued them promises of at least part-payment, as the people paid what they could afford for the rations. But the merchants were furious. Winter was their time of greatest profit. The rich would pay huge sums of money for fresh food. Except their supplies had been seized and would be divided equally, not go to those with the biggest purse.
Bridgit had liked the idea of having just one quarter of the city turn up at a time but, while the poor obeyed the instructions and formed an orderly queue with their whole families, the rich turned up late and tried to push in front, or had sent servants to hold their place and claim they had enormous families.
“We need more soldiers,” Nola said grimly as they surveyed the seething masses. Armed men tried to keep order as well as stop angry people from attacking the scribes. Gannon and his second, a tough warrior called Jason, were trying to keep control but they could not be everywhere at once.
“Well, we just keep going. There’s nothing else we can do. We cannot take anyone away from the warehouses because the moment people think the food is unguarded, we’ll have gangs of thieves stripping it out. And I will not go through that again. Get me Gannon.”
The bald-headed sergeant hurried over from where he had been bellowing at feuding families.
Even though it was a cold day, with frost on the cobbles that morning, his head was shining with sweat.
“It’s almost as if some people out there are deliberately trying to stir up trouble,” he said. “They won’t listen to reason.”
“It’s time to get strong with some of these people,” Bridgit said. “Get the troublemakers and throw them in a cell. Use the shillelaghs if you have to. We have to get this done.”
He did not hesitate but hurried off, bellowing orders to his men.
“Should we be doing that?” Nola asked worriedly. “Hitting people and throwing them in cells?”
“The alternative is worse,” Bridgit said. “These people are our children now. Would you let this behavior go unpunished at the dinner table?”
“Not bloody likely! They would get a begorrah clip over the ear!” Nola growled.
“Exactly,” Bridgit said with a nod. “And that’s wha
t we’ll do here.”
It took a little time for the new approach to work but it swiftly began to filter through as Gannon’s men used shillelaghs on the loudest mouths. The noise dropped as people realized shouting would get them nothing but pain and then a visit to the cells.
“You realize some of them will be lying to us, while others will not understand what we are doing and are staying home,” Riona said.
“Of course. It is going to take the best part of a moon to work properly. But we shall find the hungry ones and punish the greedy and it’ll all work out,” Bridgit said. “It has to. I owe it to the ones we lost on the ship out here.”
“You don’t owe anybody,” Nola said.
“Well, I think differently,” Bridgit said firmly, letting her two friends know that conversation was at an end and then opened a new one. “How is Brendan?”
Nola shook her head, seeming to shrink down a little. “He is a changed man,” she said sadly. “I try to be understanding but he is not the man I left and lost. That accursed hammer is always with him and violence is just below the surface. I mean, he was always a big man but I was never scared of that strength, never thought he would harm me or the girls. He never got angry. Now he is always angry and there are times when I am scared to be around him. He uses his strength and size to make people do what he wants and I hate that.”
Bridgit put her arm around her friend. “He will return to the old Brendan. It just needs some time. You see, he will calm down a little each day. There are things inside some of us that are best left hidden. He called upon the darkest part of himself to help get us back but he is still the old Brendan.” She shuddered a little at her own words. They had all changed, and not necessarily for the better. She still found it hard to believe that Fallon had tortured a man and held a knife to a child’s face. It was something that lay between them. She had not been able to bring it up. When they fought he usually went off and did something foolish. That was fine when there was nothing at stake but now there was a whole country riding on everything he did.