The Poisoned Quarrel: The Arbalester Trilogy 3 (Complete Edition)

by Duncan Lay

  “They are scum and deserve to die. We thought that often enough, when we served Prince Cavan,” Fallon retorted.

  Gallagher shook his head. “Think of your soul. This is not a good deed.”

  “We have to do it,” Fallon said coldly. “Let go of me.”

  Gallagher shook his head but then Brendan grabbed the fisherman’s arm and pulled his hand clear. “They are lucky to die like this. If I had my way I would beat in their brains,” the smith rumbled.

  Gallagher wrenched his arm free. “You don’t see it, do you?” he said sadly. “We are becoming like them. Aroaril would not be pleased—”

  Fallon gave him a shove. “If you don’t want to help, then go and search the castle,” he said roughly. “We have work to do.”

  He could feel his friend’s gaze on his back but he did not turn around.

  *

  When the last of them was dangling from the castle walls, he left two squads of his men with Gallagher, searching through the castle for anything useful to bring out and give away to the ordinary people, and took the rest of the men into the town.

  He had not expected wild cheering but thought people would have been happy to see them, for they had freed Meinster from the greedy bastards now swinging gently on the castle walls. But people rushed inside, slamming and barring doors against them.

  Fallon stalked through the streets, getting angrier as he went. He needed to find some reliable men, honest men, that he could trust to look after the town but he had no idea where to start. In the western towns, and indeed most of the eastern as well, the priests were the first port of call. But here, the churches were empty of priests and instead the crowds of people praying for deliverance screamed when they saw him appear and raced out of other doors.

  He finally called a halt. “Time for a new approach, lads,” he said. “If we can’t find the good people of Meinster, we can at least make sure the bad ones don’t rule the place once we are gone. We’ll round up all those who have profited from Meinster and Swane.”

  So his men kicked in doors of the biggest houses, dragging out crying and begging men away from their families or discovering young women living alone, surrounded by luxury that would have astounded half of Berry. Most Fallon recognized as the mistresses that he had thrown out of the castle only a few turns of the hourglass ago. His men dragged out the furniture, the clothes and the food into the main square, to go with what was being carried out of the castle. The mistresses were indifferent to the news their noble lovers had been hung from the castle walls but driven frantic by the thought of losing all they had been given. Fallon was unmoved by their pleas, although he had to order some of his men not to let them secrete a few choice items away, for the young soldiers were not immune to the begging of beautiful young women. But Fallon looked at them and saw younger versions of Dina and had no sympathy.

  As for the men they found in the richest houses, he ordered them questioned and found they were merchants, men who had grown fat and rich at the expense of others. Well, today it was time to pay the price.

  “Drag their furniture, food and clothes into the main square and everyone else can take what they will,” he ordered. “The men can join their masters on the walls.”

  Men and women begged and pleaded, or raged and protested, but he ignored all of them. The merchants’ families wailed and wept as their husbands died, one by one, on the wall but he fancied the town would be far better without them. If he had left them there, they would have taken the place of the nobles within a quarter moon and the ordinary people would have been no better off. At least, this way, the town would have a chance.

  When taking the piles of food, furniture and clothing to the main square had been finished, he had two of his men help him up onto a table. The doors were all barred to him but he knew people were listening and watching out of half-opened windows, wondering what he would do next.

  “People of Meinster! Swane is dead!” he shouted at the top of his voice. He didn’t know if that was true but they needed to hear it. “Earl Meinster is dead, as is every other accursed noble and Guildsman who has robbed you for all these years and secretly worshipped the Dark God. You are now free and your children are safe from their blood sacrifice. Come, take what you need to survive the winter. We shall return, with more food and priests, real priests of Aroaril, to help you rebuild. No more will you have to pay huge taxes, nor will you worry about being thrown out of your home or off your land. You will have a say in running this town and ruling this country. Rejoice, for the darkness has been lifted!”

  His last words echoed around the empty streets but nobody came out. He jumped down and signalled to his men.

  “Come on, lads. We shall go back to the castle and see what they do now. They won’t come out while we are around,” he ordered.

  He didn’t like the lack of response but, he reflected, Meinster had not been plagued by attacks of false witches and fake selkies, like the rest of the country. These people had not known anything but the iron fist of Earl Meinster. They would thank him later, he decided.

  *

  The huge pile of goods they had placed in the main square all disappeared overnight but the town seemed to be empty and still again the next morning.

  “Let’s get out here, lads. It was too obvious for Swane to come back here. He’s probably hiding in another town,” Fallon ordered.

  None of his men were sad to go, because the big town was eerie, with nobody moving around. In fact, Fallon was uncomfortably reminded of some of his dreams, when he was looking over a destroyed Gaelland.

  “What about the bodies?” Gallagher asked, the first words they had exchanged all day.

  “Leave them there,” Fallon said immediately. “They will remind the people of what was done and keep them out of the castle as well. I’d rather we didn’t return to find we missed one noble’s relative and they had set themselves up like a king in there.”

  Gallagher did not look happy but Fallon turned away from him. They marched through the dead streets towards the park where they had emerged the day before. Fallon could feel the hairs on the back of his neck itching as hidden eyes stared at them. He was looking over his shoulder when he saw a stone arc out of the sky towards him. He skipped aside and it bounced off the cobbles.

  “Watch out! Shields up!” he roared.

  The men reacted instantly and just in time, as half a dozen other small rocks bounced off shields.

  “Shall we go and get them, sir?” one of his young sergeants called.

  Fallon was tempted but there were only a few rocks and there were plenty of people in the town who did have good cause to hate him and his men—the mistresses of the nobles and the families of the merchants, for a start.

  “Leave them. But quick march away,” he said.

  It felt like a retreat, when he should have been cheered every step of the way. They will grow to understand what we have done here and when we return, they will be grateful, he told himself.

  CHAPTER 34

  The journey was one endless nightmare for Kemal.

  It was bad enough at the start, even though the boat skipped through the water thanks to magic. Certainly the food left plenty to be desired. A cauldron of oatmeal was kept bubbling through the day and chunks of rancid meat and dried vegetables were thrown in there. Swimming in grease and tasting foul, it was nonetheless the only thing to be eaten on board.

  Kemal and the sailors were getting two bowlfuls a day, morning and night, to keep them going. The families were getting only one.

  Swane, Dina, their guards and wizards, however, were dining on fish and even seabirds that they were bringing in to roast and devour. Although he was treated as a valuable prisoner, he received none of that food, although he begged and threatened.

  He thought that was unpleasant but he forgot about eating when the storms came, black clouds filling the horizon and lightning flashing. Kemal was at first afraid they would all die in it. But, as soon as the storm was sighted, a
family was brought up from the hold and, along with their sailor husband and father, sacrificed to Zorva. Then Kemal began to pray the storms would kill them all.

  He had been barely aware of what Swane and Dina had been doing to the wizards during the snowstorm near Lake Caragh. The cold and the reaction to his own escape had left him fading in and out of consciousness. There was no such escape this time. He heard and saw everything on that small ship. The first time he watched a screaming child have its heart ripped out he tried to attack them, only to be restrained by guards. The second time, they locked him in the hold with the women and children and he watched the children weep as all heard the death cries of friends above, while blood dripped through the planking into the dampness of the hold below. He heard the sailors above crying out in fear as Swane promised this would be the fate for any who did not obey his orders. He cursed Swane and Dina and their guards, swearing that he would see them pay for their crimes if it was the last thing he did, but his words were ignored.

  A mother grabbed his arm, making him jump.

  “Save us, please,” she whispered, her eyes huge in the dim hold. She had two sons, both young, one tucked under each arm.

  He found himself imagining Asil and Orhan there. He had been horrified to learn Aidan wanted to sacrifice his family but that had been lost in the tidal wave of hatred he had felt for Fallon. Now that anger seemed misdirected. If he had not been so determined to gain revenge, he could have made a deal with Fallon, turned Gaelland into a Kottermani province and wiped out Swane’s evil. Instead, all he could do was reflect bitterly on the mistakes he had made. If they had the power to move storms, then maybe they had the power to seize control of the Empire. He shuddered at the thought of such sacrifices going on in every town across the Kotterman Empire.

  He searched quickly through the hold. He needed a weapon and he could do what Fallon had done, release his anger in an orgy of violence on these evil murderers. In the corner was a broken oar. It was not much but Fallon had apparently had little else.

  “Be ready to act when I do,” he told the families. “Unless we take this ship back, they will kill us one by one. Better to take some of them with us.”

  Swane wanted him for his evil plot. Well, if he could not destroy Swane then he could ruin his plans by fighting and dying. And at least it would be a clean end. The women and children looked terrified rather than ready to fight but he had no time to inspire them further. The foul rites were over above, because they could hear the splash as bodies were hurled over the side, then the hold cover was thrown open and a pair of guards jumped down.

  “Now!” Kemal roared and sprang at them.

  The first guard went down as he crashed the oar shaft over his head and Kemal grabbed for the man’s sword, only for his limbs to freeze. He struggled to move but he was locked in place. His mind sent commands but his arms and legs would not obey them.

  Instead he was hauled out on deck. The feeling returned to his arms and legs but the guards held him helpless now.

  “You fool. Did you really think your cheap heroics would succeed against the power of Zorva?” Swane asked him pleasantly.

  “I didn’t care. I just wanted to end your evil,” Kemal told him.

  “I think the Prince needs to be punished,” Swane announced loudly.

  “Kill me then, you filthy bastard,” Kemal spat.

  Swane smiled. “You are worth too much to us. No, I think you need to work for your passage. We are down a couple of sailors now, so you can work the ship.”

  “I will never do that. I don’t care what you do to me,” Kemal snarled.

  Swane clicked his fingers and guards dragged over a handful of women and children.

  “Let me make a bargain with you. Every day you do not work, we sacrifice one to Zorva in your name. Starting with today. How about that one?”

  A guard dragged out a screaming child, a lad of no more than ten summers. His mother was going crazy, his father begging, while the families below were also crying and screaming.

  Kemal was horribly reminded of the night when Fallon had done something similar to him. He had sworn to never give in again. He told himself these people meant nothing to him, that they would probably all die anyway. But while giving in to Fallon haunted him still, he knew letting a child die for his pride would never leave him.

  “Stop,” he said raggedly.

  “What? I couldn’t hear that,” Swane said, with a half-smile.

  “Stop,” Kemal said louder, hating himself but hating Swane even more. “I will do what you wish. Leave the child.”

  Swane smiled widely and snapped his fingers. The crying families were hustled below and a bucket of seawater and a thick cleaning stone were placed in front of Kemal.

  “You can start by scrubbing the bloodstains out of the deck,” Swane told him.

  Kemal’s arms were released and he picked up the thick stone. He had seen his own men use them to scrub the decks clean, had even ordered them to go back and do it again when they had missed a spot but he had never dreamed he would do this. He was tempted to use it to smash Swane’s foul head open but the guards held swords near the children, so instead he placed it on the wooden deck and began scrubbing it backwards and forwards. He could rub away the blood on the deck but he felt as if he could never rub away his hate.

  *

  Kemal was in agony. He thought he had been toughened by years of working with weapons but nothing had prepared him for manual labor. Every muscle ached while his hands were on fire, palms and fingers torn open by blisters. He was dumped back into the hold, in a world of pain, but gentle hands helped him, offering him extra food, binding his hands and rubbing cramping muscles in his back and shoulders. He could not even hold a spoon to force down the greasy oatmeal so someone carefully fed him, spooning the mush into his mouth. He finished the bowl and found himself weeping with gratitude.

  “Thank you,” he whispered, looking up at the face of the woman whose son had so nearly been sacrificed. “You are kind.”

  She looked away. “If you cannot work, then my son might die,” she said softly.

  That woke him up a little and he wanted to refuse her help—except he could not. His legs spasmed with cramps and she rubbed them, soothing the muscles until he drifted to sleep.

  The second day was, if possible, even worse, but he used his hatred of Swane to push himself on, while the women and children took turns helping him and each day after that got a little easier as his body adjusted. He found himself developing a new respect for these people, the same people he had thought were far beneath him. They had dignity and humor and an unshakable spirit that not even this nightmare could break. They did everything to protect their children and keep their minds off the horrible fate that hung over them and he had to admire that.

  As he got stronger, he began to plot again. Time was running out. White water foamed at the bows day and night, while the worst of the waves seemed to slip past. He had sailed between Adana and Gaelland five times now but this trip was passing far faster than any other. Forget about half a moon, it would be little more than a quarter moon before they saw land. He had to be prepared to act fast once they reached land. They had to have some plan to keep him quiet, for just a few words in Kottermani would be enough for the guards to swoop on Swane and end his foul plans.

  “Land ho!” the lookout cried from the top of the mast and Kemal joined the rush to the rail as best he could, although he had a rope around his ankle that prevented him even throwing himself overboard to thwart their plans.

  One glance was all it took. Adana was less than a day away. His big advantage was knowing the port, while Swane and the others would be ignorant. As soon as they passed inside the harbor wall, he could call out to the guards there, long before Swane and Dina would be worried about him escaping. That way the families would be safe and he took a few moments to imagine their gratitude at the way he had saved them.

  “Prince Kemal. Almost home,” Dina said conversationall
y.

  Kemal glared at her.

  “You make a fine servant. If only your people could see you now,” she said mockingly.

  Kemal looked down at his ragged clothes and swollen hands and smiled back. “And how are you going to explain this to my father?” he asked.

  She patted him on the shoulder. “A good question,” she said.

  Kemal opened his mouth to answer but then everything went black.

  *

  “Is he asleep?” Dina asked, as they surrounded the fallen Prince.

  Kane leaned down and slapped Kemal’s face, then lifted up one of his eyelids.

  “Nothing. The magic has worked, my lady,” he said.

  “Of course it did,” Dina said dismissively. All was proceeding as she planned.

  “Are we sure about this?” Swane asked softly, turning his body so the others could not hear what he was saying.

  “How do you mean?”

  “We are about to risk everything. If this goes wrong then we shall all be killed. Maybe we would have been better taking Gaelland and then trying to deal with them.”

  “And if all goes right, we shall rule the world! We have nothing to lose and everything to gain. These Kottermanis sit in their golden palaces thinking they are better than the rest of us. They will not see what is coming. With a little magic and plenty of convincing lies we can take their Empire. Is that not worth a little risk?”

  Swane looked a little happier and she smiled at him, thinking that she was far better suited to rule than he was. But she needed the fool for a while longer.

  “Finbar, when you are ready,” she ordered.

  The wizard, who still looked drawn and haggard, moved to obey. Even regular meals had not restored him to his usual condition and it was obvious that what he had gone through at Lake Caragh affected him still. That was why they had been forced to call on Zorva to save the ship from storms, rather than use ordinary magic, as planned.

  The wizard passed his hands over the comatose Prince Kemal and his body stiffened in response. Then Finbar lifted up Kemal’s tunic, took out a thin knife and dug it into Kemal’s side. He tossed it overboard and then closed his eyes. Sweat broke out on his face and he gasped for breath as the wound he created healed over, but not entirely, looking for all the world like an old injury that had been inflicted half a moon ago.