The Last Quarrel (The Complete Edition) (49 page)

“So the nobles are really running the country and manipulating your father into doing what they want?” Fallon asked.

Cavan shook his head. “It is more complicated than that. My father is so unpredictable. Sometimes he will hate an idea. Then most of the supporters will do their best to convince him otherwise, but then there are those who change their tune depending on what the King says. They are the ones to watch – the ones who demand the highest price for their help. And then sometimes the King just decides to do something else, even after agreeing to it in the meeting.”

“So nobody is really running the country? It is just governed by the whims of your father, layered with the plots of the nobles?”

“Indeed,” Cavan agreed. “We’ll go and speak to them. It is useful to have them owing me favors.”

“Yes,” Fallon said meaningfully. “Perhaps we could even hint about a change in ruler.”

Cavan glared at him and Fallon sighed.

“Why do they need your help, though? I thought your father did not listen to you?”

“They do not seek my help to twist my father’s mind. They need me as an impartial ruler of their little meeting, say when someone is being unreasonable in their demands for payment for support.”

Fallon shook his head at the thought of it all but organized six others, as well as Brendan and himself, to accompany the prince to the meeting.

“How many times will these meetings happen?” he asked.

“All the time,” Cavan replied. “The plotting never stops.”

Fallon felt a shiver go down his spine at the thought.

The first surprise was the sight of the Duchess Dina near the head of the table. She merely smiled at them when they entered, curtseyed as the others bowed.

Fallon had to fight to stop himself glowering at the nobles. He remembered all too well the way they had behaved at the banquet. They acquitted themselves no better at this meeting. To his eye the Counts, Earls and Dukes were grasping and conniving, acting like a pack of traders trying to split up a herd of stolen horses. Before an agreement could be reached, Cavan had to give his seal of approval to it. That was also revolting to watch. The nobles complained bitterly if they had to give up more, or sulked if they did not get everything they wanted. Still, he had to admit the Duchess was Cavan’s main ally around the table. She backed him up, sometimes shouting at a noble, sometimes flirting with another: whatever it took to get a result.

Finally the horse-trading came to an end and the Count of Londegal turned to Prince Cavan with an oily smile. “As always, your highness, we thank you for your wisdom and only pray that when you ascend the throne, none of this will be necessary.”

“Indeed, my dear Count,” Cavan inclined his head.

The other nobles murmured something similar but Duchess Dina cleared her throat. “And so the Count has brought us to the real issue,” she said. “Our land has grown more troubled and these attacks from both selkies and witches are the last straw. My county of Lunster has been hardest hit, with my own dear husband stolen away. I find myself asking whether King Aidan can restore peace to Gaelland. I am sure, on the other hand, that Prince Cavan will be able to do so.”

Fallon liked the sound of that. Perhaps the Duchess was indeed the ally the Prince needed – and perhaps now Cavan would be forced into action.

“That is a dangerous thing to say inside the castle walls.” The Count of Londegal was the first to speak.

“No more dangerous than this whole meeting,” Dina fired back. “What would the King say if he learned we had been meeting like this for years, planning how to make his decisions for him?”

“You can’t confuse the two,” the Earl of Lagway said indignantly. “They are completely different!”

“And so you would be happy to go and tell the King about them? Or would you like me to tell him for you?” Dina suggested acidly.

The portly Earl’s red face paled rapidly, saying more than any words could have.

“The truth is we never know what the King is going to do. My lords, we are the most powerful people in Gaelland. I suggest we think very hard what we are going to do with that power. Will we merely line our already heavy purses with more gold or will we do something for our country?”

“But why are we asking this question? Do you mean to say that Prince Cavan intends to overthrow his father?” Londegal asked.

All eyes turned to Cavan and Fallon prayed that the Prince would say yes.

“I do not seek to replace my father before his natural death,” Cavan said calmly.

“Then why are we having this conversation, which could see all of us beheaded?” Londegal demanded.

“Because someone needs to have it. Think about it, my lords. Do you truly believe our troubles will end if we burn strange old women at the stake and throw silver into the sea for the selkies to enjoy?”

This time nobody said anything.

Finally Londegal cleared his throat. “We will think on what you have said. But now we must leave, or we shall be late for King Aidan’s Council meeting and so have even more problems.”

As if released from a spell, the other nobles hurriedly rose, bowed to Cavan and raced out of the room, leaving only Duchess Dina behind.

“I am sorry, your highness, if I embarrassed you. But I wanted to show you what I can do to help you, and that I can be trusted,” she said softly. “I know you cannot declare yourself against your father. But with an ally to help you, someone trusted by your side, you can achieve great things. I feel I have so much to offer –”

“No,” Cavan said. “I know you do these things because you think you will help me but I will not challenge my father. He will not go quietly. Overthrowing him means killing both him and Swane and I will not sink to that level. If you want to help, then find evidence against Swane that I can take to Father and make him change his decrees on witches and selkies.”

Fallon groaned inside and he could see the Duchess’s face fall. Then he saw another meaning in her words. Had she been suggesting a marriage to Cavan? It seemed unlikely but her ambition was obvious. And marriage to Cavan would see her take the throne. They were leaving it late for children but, with some help from Aroaril …

“My apologies, highness. I can see I made a mistake here,” she said. “I shall do as you say.”

She walked briskly out and Fallon shook off his thoughts about Queen Dina. That could not happen. Instead he stepped close to the Prince. “Why did you not rally the nobles and get them thinking about you as King?” he asked softly.

“I cannot trust them,” Cavan said. “They think only of themselves. They would agree with me and then sell me out for more land or money.”

“But –”

“No more. Come, we don’t want to be late to the Council meeting either.”

Cavan had wanted to go to bed early after the Council meeting, which had been a shambles. Fallon even found fresh reasons to despise the nobles. They laughed sycophantically at everything the King said and refused to disagree with him on anything. But Duchess Dina was the worst of the lot. Apart from laughing at everything the King said, she also seemed to be flirting outrageously with him, making reference to his prowess as a hurling player and even offering to rub his back when he complained of sore shoulders. It was sickening and Fallon was horribly reminded of his suspicions about the way she had been acting towards Cavan. First the son, now the father. Was there no end to her ambitions?

All in all, he was only too happy to put all those thoughts behind him and take Kerrin down with him to the crossbow range. Again he brought half his villagers along and was pleased to see they were all making progress with the weapon. He did not know how useful it would be but he was sure it would come in handy. The ones sent back to the ship had taken crossbows there, with orders to keep practicing. If nothing else, he hoped it would help keep them occupied.

Kerrin refused to leave the range and wanted to keep practicing. Fallon even changed over the villagers so all could practice, and only called a halt when a blister burst on Kerrin’s hand. The boy was proud of it and refused to let Rosaleen heal it.

But he was obviously exhausted and collapsed onto the bed as soon as they were back in their room. Caley wanted to join him but Fallon pushed her off and laid down himself instead.

“Did I do well, Dad?” Kerrin asked.

“No, you didn’t,” Fallon said, then winked at Kerrin. “You did great!”

“You mean that?”

“I would not say so otherwise. You were as good as anyone I have ever trained. Tell me, have you ever picked up a crossbow before? Maybe used mine as a toy?”

He waited while Kerrin lay there rigidly in silence, then he poked his son in the chest. “I know you must have – and it is fine, I was only joking!”

Kerrin laughed. “Don’t try to trick me, Dad – I’m too clever for that!”

“Really?” Fallon said. “Well, we’ll see about that.”

“What do you do when you practice with the crossbow?” Kerrin asked eagerly.

“Well, I usually have Devlin and Brendan and Gallagher shout at me, scream and make noise, so I get used to making the shot under all conditions.”

“Should I try that?”

“Maybe just practice the normal way first. Give it a moon or two and we’ll try it like that,” Fallon promised.

“I will! And won’t Mam be proud when she gets back!”

“That she will,” Fallon said softly, cuddling his son. “That she will.”

Fallon woke up with Kerrin burrowed into his shoulder and stretched with a groan. He opened one eye to see dawn was breaking and decided he needed to get up and exercise.

He had thought, when he discovered Bridgit had been taken, he would not eat again until he found her. The thought of food made him sick. But he firstly needed to eat to survive, then to be strong to get her back and, then, the food in the palace was tempting. As Captain of the Prince’s Guards, he could eat anything he wanted, whenever he wanted. Apart from needing to stay ready to stop Swane and protect the prince at any moment, he felt it would be too easy to end up fat and useless on such a diet. Many of his men were the same. Used to working hard from dawn to dusk, they had now been reduced to much sitting around and eating – and the effects were showing. He decided he needed to work them harder.

He puffed through a series of push-ups and sit-ups before Kerrin woke up.

“What’s happening?” he asked.

“Exercise. Why not join me?”

Kerrin rolled out of bed eagerly enough but struggled to push himself up off the floor. “How do you do that?” he demanded. “I’m no good at this. I’m no good at anything.”

“Stop that!” Fallon rolled over and grabbed his son’s arm, looking into his eyes. He could see Kerrin looking shocked. He knew that Bridgit usually soothed the child but he didn’t think that was the way to get through. He did not know if his way was any better, but it was all he knew how to do.

“Don’t say those things about yourself. You are the only one who can help yourself,” he said, but could see that was going over his son’s head. He took a deep breath and tried again. “Tell me lad, could you walk and talk when you were born?”

“Of course not!” Kerrin smiled.

“But did you give up and say, I can’t do it – I’m no good at it?”

“Well, no, but that’s because I couldn’t speak either,” Kerrin said.

“You see what I mean though,” Fallon challenged.

“Aye, Dad. You have to learn how to do everything. Like I have to learn how to do this.”

“That’s right.” Fallon let go of Kerrin’s arm and rolled away. “Let’s try it again.”

He showed Kerrin how to press himself up from the floor, balancing on his knees instead of his toes, then puff his way through sit-ups.

“Can we go back to the crossbow range again?”

“Of course,” Fallon said. “I just have to check on the Prince first.”

He left Kerrin eating bread with Padraig. The old wizard looked to have put on a fair bit of weight since they had arrived, with all the food tasting he was doing. His robe actually fitted on him now, rather than hanging off him like a sheet.

“We’d better get you out of here and back home soon, or you’ll sink the ship when we get on,” he said. “I’ll take some of this in to the Prince, before you ‘taste’ it all.”

Cavan woke up suddenly, his heart thumping. He had been dreaming he was a child again, and the terror had left him drenched in sweat. His sheets were sticky with it and he fought his way clear, hurrying over to a jug and bowl, where he splashed cold water on his face and drank more, trying to use it to wash away the memories.

He forced his breathing back to calmness. The memories were always there, always fighting to break into his mind and turn him into a crying child.

He washed his face again but it did no good. He dressed slowly and then slumped down at the table, barely hearing the knock on the door when Fallon came in.

“What have we got on today, highness?” he asked cheerfully, putting a plate of food down.

“Nothing much, I hope,” Cavan yawned, looking at the food without enthusiasm.

“Couldn’t sleep?” Fallon asked sympathetically.

Cavan sighed. “Bad dreams.”

Fallon sat down next to him, an act that was shocking to the Prince. “Cavan, talk to me; tell me what is the matter,” he said.

Cavan knew he should tell Fallon he was being impertinent but the memory was so fresh, so strong, that it had to come out. He burst into tears and felt Fallon reach out and put his arm around his shoulders. That made it worse and he had to get the darkness out of him.

“My father used to beat and rape my mother,” he said thickly. “I was so young that it is my earliest memory. My mother screaming and me trying to help her and being beaten by my father for doing so. He seemed to delight in attacking her in front of Swane and me. You might have thought it would bring us together against him but, while I knew it was horrible, Swane took pleasure from it.”

“Surely not!” Fallon said, his arm slipping away from Cavan’s shoulders.

“He must have. For Swane began hitting her as well, if she ever tried to discipline him. If she struck him back, then he ran off to father and she was truly punished. One day, after he had punched her in the face, then run off to my father, who had beaten and raped her yet again, she killed herself. I was the one who found her, battered, bruised and bleeding to death. I wanted to go and get help but she begged me to let her die rather than spend another day with Swane and my father. And so I held her hand while she slipped away and to this day I can see her face as she went. I don’t know whether to hate myself for letting her die or for not running away with her earlier. Father did not care that she died, for he could always find other women and, after all, she had given him his Crown Prince and his spare.’ He shuddered. ‘But Swane blamed me for letting her die and I blamed him for her death. Then I discovered him acting like that to some of the serving girls, treating them just the way Father had treated our mother. I stopped him and beat him – only for Father to side with him. He called me weak for weeping for Mother and weaker still for trying to protect girls from Swane. And here I am,
still
trying to protect ordinary people from my brother.”

Cavan wiped his eyes and looked up at Fallon, seeing a mixture of pity and sympathy on his face.

“Aroaril, no wonder you cannot let yourself love. No wonder you hate Swane and your father. The only wonder is why you refuse to take the throne yourself.”

Cavan smiled sadly. “Because of my mother. Because she would have hated that. It would mean I had become like them. That was the message she gave me at the end. Don’t become what you hate. That is why I refused to become like my brother or my father. Every day, I think of how she would like me to behave and I try to be that man.”

“Highness, I don’t know what to say,” Fallon admitted. “I just hope telling that brings you some peace now.”

Cavan did feel strangely better after talking about it and just hoped Fallon would understand.

Fallon seemed lost for words and did not get the chance to find them, because someone thumped on the door. The captain went to open it while Cavan washed his face yet again, patting it dry with a towel so that when Gallagher stepped inside, nothing looked amiss.

“Sorry to wake you, highness. But we finally have heard from the Guild of Moneylenders. It seems your warning about taking their license has worked. They say they want to see you on a vital matter concerning Eamon and your brother. But you must come to their Guildhouse to get it,” Gallagher said.

“That stinks,” Fallon said. “They could easily bring it here. There is something more.”

“Perhaps. But we need to find out what,” Cavan said. After sharing his dark secret, he felt like today he would find the evidence to see Swane punished for his evil. “I shall go.”

“Then we’re all going with you,” Fallon said. “Gall, tell everyone. We’ll drop Kerrin off at the ship. If it is a trap, they’ll get more than they bargained for.”