by Duncan Lay
The smell in the chamber was enough to make everyone choke and gasp. The stench of open bowels and blood was overtaken by the smell of roasted flesh, from where the Earl of Meinster was still cooking.
“Aroaril, look at that,” Brendan gasped, pointing out the Fearpriest, lying spread-eagled on the floor, his guts tangled over his legs.
“No time for him,” Fallon said grimly. Through the wafting smoke, he could see the door at the far end was open now. Whether his pursuers had battered it down or Swane had got it open did not matter. What counted was Swane had a way out. He prayed it would only take him as far as the men he had sent there. He had to get Swane, for poor dead Prince Cavan. It would finish things as well, although there was little to fear from Swane. After all, he had been his father’s puppet and his arrogance and stupidity had nearly brought Aidan’s plot undone. He was not the brains behind this.
The children in the cells shrank back against the walls as they came through, crying out in fear.
“Brendan, get those doors open,” Fallon ordered.
The big smith needed no second invitation and dropped the limp King Aidan onto the floor to use his hammer to smash the locks and open the doors. The children still cowered at the back, clutching each other. Fallon dropped down to one knee.
“You are free now,” he said gently. “We are here to take you back to your parents. You are safe now.”
“That’s what they say when they come for us,” a small voice said accusingly.
“Well, we are going to leave the doors open. Your parents are on their way here and you can stay here until they arrive or you can come with us and see the sun once more,” Fallon offered.
When none of them moved, he turned back to King Aidan.
“Your new room is ready, sire,” he said harshly.
Brendan used his hammer to open the filthiest cell he could see, then the King was unceremoniously dumped inside. Fallon picked Craddock and four more of his villagers to stand guard there. After what they had seen in the chamber, and the terrified children in the cells, Fallon knew they would not listen to the King demanding to be let out. Just to be on the safe side Aidan was bound and gagged before the door was wedged shut.
“Now for Swane,” Fallon said grimly.
He led the way back through the passageways, this time taking the second turning. It felt strange walking this way with armed men at his back, after stumbling through there with the children, just trying to get out.
He had never been down the second passageway and led the way cautiously but there was nothing until it ended in a solid wooden door, banded with iron.
Brendan stepped forwards without being asked and battered it until it sprang open. Fallon jumped through, shillelagh at the ready, to find he was in a richly appointed sitting room.
“These must be Swane’s,” he hissed. “So much for Kelty’s search that time.”
“He probably had a drink with Swane and laughed about us waiting outside,” Brendan agreed.
Fallon nodded. The guard captain had paid the penalty for that back in the chamber. He advanced through the rooms cautiously. It looked as though somebody had been through here recently, for clothes were strewn over the floor. Chests had also been opened and tipped out.
“Looks like someone was packing for a long trip,” Brendan said, obviously having noticed the same thing.
But there was nobody in the rooms. Fallon finally made his way to the door into Swane’s rooms, unlocked it and hauled it open – to see the angry faces of the men he had sent there.
“Nobody has been through here, have they?” he asked, already knowing the answer.
“Well, where is he?” Brendan asked.
“We’ll look everywhere,” Fallon said. “He cannot get far.”
*
Yet nobody had seen anyone leaving by any of the other exits. It was a mystery and Fallon’s disquiet was growing. He did not like the idea of Swane emerging from a hiding place under the castle at some time and wreaking his mischief. But he was running out of time to worry about it, because there were a hundred other things to deal with.
He had to send men off to secure the city gates and remove the guards on duty there. Most of his villagers had to do that, because he needed men he could trust there, although he also sent along groups of his best recruits with them, because he could not risk any trouble at the gates.
“People can come in but nobody is to leave,” he told them. “Not until we discover who else has sold their soul to Zorva. We know the Guilds are in this, as are some of the nobles. We must find the others.”
While they had found some of the men who had got out of the chamber bearing the marks of Fallon’s shillelagh, others had scattered. Then there were Archbishop Kynan and the King’s Wizard Finbar. Search parties had not found either of them at their homes.
The good news was that Devlin and the others had been found alive and brought back to the castle, battered and bruised.
“I’m sorry, Fallon. They were onto us before we realized they were there. They took out our men at the entrance and then rushed in,” Devlin said sadly, his left eye almost swollen shut and his lips split from a shillelagh blow.
Fallon gripped his friend’s shoulder. “It is my fault,” he said. “I must have led them to you. You have had no other visitors. At least you know that Kelty and the others who did that are burning in Zorva’s pits now.”
“I’d still have liked to throw them in there myself,” Devlin said.
“Rest, my friend. I am going to make you a busy man very soon.”
Duchess Dina had sent a message that she was staying in her townhouse until she could be sure it was safe to travel the streets. Fallon cursed at that. The streets were quiet, with people knowing that something had happened at the castle but unsure what. For now, Fallon did not want to tell them anything. He hoped the sight of his recruits would reassure them, for the city had become used to seeing them every day. More had to be sent to help bring Dina to the castle. He could see that she would be concerned for her safety. Now that the worship of Zorva had been revealed, Aidan’s supporters had nothing to lose. He needed her advice but, more importantly, he needed to know she could be trusted. After all, he had just been forced to do what she wanted – depose Aidan and turn to her. Rosaleen needed to be sent, with a company of men, with very careful instructions.
All of the King’s surviving guards were being brought back to the castle, where Bran and Casey were talking with Devlin and deciding what to do with them. The ones who were known to be cronies of Kelty were locked in store rooms, while those who were simply doing their job were asked to hand over their weapons and armor and sent home, if Rosaleen ruled they had not sold themselves to Zorva.
The parents of the missing children had been found and brought to the castle, where they were reunited with the surviving children. That had been hard. Each couple had not known whether their child was alive or not and while there were many tearful reunions as terrified children fell back into their parents’ arms, nearly half of the rejoicing adults had to be given the devastating news their child had been sacrificed to Zorva.
A group of Kelty’s guards was made to bring up the rotting bodies from where the Fearpriest had dumped them and over which Fallon and Feray had scrambled to safety. It was not just children but men and women as well. Worst of all, Prince Cavan’s body was among them. The bodies were lain carefully out in the square and weeping friends and family came to collect them. All had the same jagged wound just under their ribs, where they had been ripped open and their hearts torn out. Rosaleen tried to comfort the horrified people but there was nothing anyone could say to take away the anguish.
“But why Cavan? He was already dead,” Fallon asked.
Rosaleen shrugged in despair. “Maybe there was still power in his heart, for he was related to both Aidan and Swane. Still, at least we can give him a proper burial.”
Fallon nodded, not trusting himself to speak. Seeing his dead prince only broug
ht home yet again his part in all this. But there was no time to brood over it. Rosaleen had to be sent out to test the Duchess, and he had a hundred tasks to complete.
When the parents learned Aidan was not only behind it but in one of the cells, only the looming presence of Brendan stopped them dragging the King out and killing him right then and there. Fallon did entertain the thought things might be easier if he let them but, despite all Aidan had done, he hesitated. At the very least, it had to be done in the open. All Berry had to see and know what Aidan had done before he received the punishment he so justly deserved.
Yet what could they do to the King? Under Gaelish law, the King’s word was automatically truth – and in any case every magistrate had been appointed by the King. They could hardly make a ruling on the man. He was pondering what to do with Aidan when Brendan tapped him on the shoulder.
“You need to come and look at this,” the smith said ominously.
Fallon followed his friend immediately but, instead of heading upstairs, Brendan led the way into the Fearpriest’s chamber. A group of recruits was dragging the bodies of the men Fallon had killed out of there so they would not rot and, more importantly, so all could see the Fearpriest was dead.
“What did you do to the Fearpriest?” Brendan asked.
“Gutted him,” Fallon replied, mystified.
“Then it wasn’t you that did this then?” Brendan pointed out the body.
Fallon had last seen the Fearpriest trying to hold his intestines inside him. Now it looked as though they had all been pulled out.
“We found the rest of him over here.” Brendan walked across the chamber, to the darkest corner, where a pile of guts was strewn around.
“Weren’t there a couple of bodies there?” Fallon asked, trying to remember what the chamber had looked like when they had gone through it earlier. His memory of that brutal fight was hazy but he did not think he had not killed anyone this far over.
“Aye. So either the dead are walking again or maybe Swane and his man lay here, draped their mate’s guts over themselves until we had gone out the other way and then ran off in a different direction.”
Fallon cursed. “They would have to have balls of iron to try something like that!”
Brendan shrugged. “Or just be very cunning. It seems to have worked for them.”
Fallon rubbed his face. “Right. Follow me. Let’s see what we can find.”
The throne room still had two score of Aidan’s erstwhile guards being checked and watched by his men, so he did not bother going through there. Instead he climbed the stairs to the King’s rooms. With Brendan at his shoulder he sprang through the door – but the room was empty. Yet it was not without evidence.
“Look at this.” He saw the blood-spattered and dirty clothes instantly, left beside the fire, as was an empty sack.
“They changed in here and walked out,” Brendan said.
“How much of a lead would they have?” Fallon growled as they raced out of the rooms.
But the men watching the gate only had bad news for them.
“There’s been plenty of guards and servants leaving here and going home,” they admitted.
“Did one of them look like the prince?” Fallon demanded.
“Sir, what does the prince look like?”
Fallon forced a smile to his face. “Don’t let anyone else in or out and if they complain, send for me.”
“Where will you be, sir?”
“I have no idea,” Fallon admitted. “Just keep searching until you find me.”
*
“Highness, we need to get out of Berry. Fallon will have men looking for us. He will try to turn the whole city against you,” Ryan said smoothly.
Swane scowled at the thought. How could it all have gone so wrong? His father had been annoying at the best of times but he was no fool. He had been watching Fallon carefully, letting the man think he was safe but always ready to act. Once the recruits were trained to the point where they could fight and Fallon was no longer vital, he had moved, grabbing Fallon’s son and the Kottermanis and giving Fallon a simple choice, join or die. And once you had pledged your soul to Zorva there was no return. If he had refused, or hesitated, he should have died. The man should have had no weapons and there had been more than twenty initiates in that room – more than enough to handle him. And yet somehow he had got a knife in there and turned the place into a charnel house. Now Father was dead, or at least in Fallon’s hands, and he was on the run. It was ridiculous! He shivered at the memory of lying still in the chamber while Fallon and his foul friends had dragged Father through there. He had wanted to run right away but Ryan had insisted this was the best way. Of course he went along with the plan, although it had taken all his control to lie still and pretend to be dead, Brother Nahuatl’s blood and guts plastered all over him. He could still smell it now, even though he had cleaned off and changed.
“We have supporters in the city, highness. We shall meet up with Kynan and Finbar. They will get you out and keep you safe,” Ryan added soothingly.
“Why can’t we join them and march back on the castle? We should have Fallon strung up and executed in front of the whole city!” Swane snarled.
But Ryan merely laid a gentle hand on his shoulder. “Highness, our allies in the Guilds are without men. Remember, your father thought it was better to remove them and chose Fallon to see that done,” he said soothingly.
“And look how it turned out,” Swane growled.
“Highness, all is not lost. We just have to get you out of the city. Every noble in the country will rush to your father’s defense. Between them we can quickly put together an army to take back Berry.”
“How can anyone obey Fallon before me? I am the Crown Prince!” Swane raged.
“Indeed, highness. They will be punished for their insolence. But first we must contact our friends. We cannot have our revenge immediately but it will be all the sweeter for the delay.”
Swane smiled. “We shall let all the traitors come together. Then when we take back Berry, it will be easier to destroy them all in one. They do not know what they have done.”
“As always, you are right, highness,” Ryan agreed.
Swane liked that. Father had always told him what to do, then Ryan told him what to do and Brother Nahuatl told him what to do. He had always obeyed. Now they were gone, he had the chance to do things for himself. After all, he was the King now. And his first order was to revenge himself on Fallon.
CHAPTER 33
Fallon hugged Kerrin to him, while Caley gamboled around them.
“Thank you for our lives,” Feray said solemnly.
Fallon kept an arm around Kerrin as he turned to face her. “I swore an oath to keep you safe and I am not a man who breaks his word,” he said. “If your husband is the same, we shall both receive our loved ones back.”
Feray nodded and gave him a little smile. “I think it was more than that,” she said.
Fallon shrugged. “I was not going to let them sacrifice anyone to Zorva, let alone a child.”
“And yet now you have more problems than before,” Feray stated.
“Do you have the answer to some of these?” he asked. “I have much to do and little time to do it in. Just speak plainly. After what we have been through today, you owe me that much.”
She inclined her head to him. “If you set yourself up as the leader of this land, or you help one of the nobles to take the throne, you will run headlong into my husband. He will arrive back here with not a full army but more than enough men to take the city. By leading this country, you will doom it.”
Fallon sighed. “What would you have me do then?”
“Let me rule. Let the people know that Kotterman is here to save them from the evils of King Aidan. We shall rule here anyway but if my husband arrives here to find me already on the throne in his name and the country agreeing to become part of the Empire, he will be distracted by that and you will have the chance to go away, as you once
told me.”
Fallon thought about it. It was certainly tempting. “But what will the price for these people be? Slavery?”
Feray looked him in the eye. “And would that be worse than what some of them go through now? Half this city are servants for your nobility, or work from dawn to dusk to pay their taxes. What is so different? And it would only be a handful each year, just the criminals. See it as a punishment. Is it not a small price to pay for peace and safety?”
“It is too high a price,” he said. What she said sounded promising but he knew what began nobly enough could soon be corrupted. Instead of merely criminals being sent into slavery it would become anyone who angered a noble. No system run by those bastards would ever be fair to ordinary people.
“Then what is your answer? Will you attempt to use this rabble of recruits to fight my husband’s men? Because, I warn you, they have been fighting around the Empire all their lives, rather than running around a city and playing at soldiers for less than a moon.”
“I don’t know yet,” Fallon admitted. “But it will not be to hand my people into slavery in Kotterman.”
Feray reached out and touched his hand. “Please, listen to me. You will inflict far more misery on them this way than if you let me take over. After what you did to us, I never imagined feeling anything but hatred for you but you saved me and my boys. Let me rule and I shall protect you.”
Fallon smiled. “I thank you for your offer but I cannot make any decisions now. I do not even have the power to rule. I am just a commoner. You need to speak to the Duchess Dina.”