The Bloody Quarrel (The Complete Edition) (33 page)

The word had spread across the city like wildfire. Few people had actually seen King Aidan but stories of his fury and revenge had been told and retold across the city a thousand times. All had felt the lash of his anger, if not from him then from his guards. Before dawn, the square was packed with people, with more trying to squeeze in all the time. Every window that overlooked the square was full of people and there were hundreds clustered on the roofs of the houses that lined it. The only space the crowd could not fill was in front of the castle, where a makeshift platform had been by built by Brendan and a score of helpers. It was a simple affair, barely enough room for a dozen men to stand on, and it was only half the height of a man off the ground. But it was enough for it to be seen. A triple ring of Fallon’s men surrounded it. None of them were wearing surcoats now, for none wanted to wear the badge of the King, while there were not enough surcoats of either Prince Cavan or the Duchess of Lunster to dress so many. They all carried shields but kept their swords in the scabbards. The idea was to keep people away, not hurt them.

“Are you sure about this?” Padraig asked as he and Fallon looked over the huge crowd.

“He has to die. And nobody else has the courage to do it,” Fallon said. Dina had been right. Talking to Aidan had cleared his mind. Aidan’s evil had to be snuffed out. With Archbishop Kynan and almost all the bishops having conveniently disappeared from the city, the church was left without leadership. And they had no way of knowing how far the corruption went. Rosaleen had been made the new Archbishop, which would outrage more than it would please, but there was none other he trusted. Even if there had been an older Archbishop beloved of Aroaril, the church could not depose a King. With a village priestess newly put into the role, there was no question of it.

“While he is alive, Kerrin, you, everyone I care about is in great danger. And Dina is right: he is a rallying point for the nobles. With him gone, they will not want to fight for Swane. The ones who he had won over to Zorva are already dead and the others will be happy enough as long as they can still live like kings,” Fallon said.

“But how long will you let that go on?” Padraig asked shrewdly.

“Just long enough to have the country in our hands. And then they will learn that there is a new way of life in Gaelland,” Fallon said fiercely.

Padraig looked over the crowd again. “This won’t bring back the people he killed. Cavan is not going to live again,” he warned.

“I know,” Fallon said bleakly. “But it will send a message to future rulers. These people are not your playthings. Protect them or you will pay the price.”

Padraig reached out and patted his shoulder. “I hope you feel the same way afterwards. Do you want someone else to do it? Brendan has said he cannot wait to use his hammer on the man who sold Nola and his children into slavery.”

Fallon shook his head. “I cannot ask any of them to do it. I must take the responsibility.”

Padraig tightened his grip on Fallon’s shoulder. “Well, you had better go and get started, because the people are getting restless. I take it you have sent Kerrin well away from this. He does not need to see this.”

“Aye, he is with Feray and her sons, at the other end of the castle.”

“Good. I shall be up here. Just raise your left hand when you want me to make you heard by the crowd. Raise your right hand if you want the King to be heard.”

“Why should he get the chance to speak to the people?”

Padraig chuckled. “I was thinking they should maybe hear him threatening death and Zorva on all of them.”

Fallon gave the old wizard a wink. “Good idea,” he said.

“Aye, well I do have them now and again. Just don’t expect them too often!”

Fallon strode up the stairs and onto the platform, to a huge cheer from the crowd, and raised his left hand, partly to calm them, partly as a signal to Padraig.

“Today, we finally clean the evil from our city!” he shouted, which brought a thunderous roar. He pointed down at Gallagher and it began.

First came the Guildsmen, nobles and guards taken in the castle and in the King’s evil chamber, many of them still bruised from Fallon’s whirling attack. Rosaleen, resplendent in ill-fitting robes, blessed a cup of water and then poured it over their heads. Each one of them shrieked as the holy water burned their skins, showing they had sold their souls to Zorva, then they were dragged over to a makeshift block where Brendan wielded his huge hammer, crushing their skulls with one blow.

The crowd cried and screamed and shouted as each was dispatched and the body dragged away to be flung onto an unlit pyre. Fallon was surprised none of them begged for mercy but just went to their deaths spitting hatred.

Finally the last was dragged away and a sweating, blood-spattered Brendan stepped back.

Fallon signaled again to Gallagher and stepped down off the stage as Rosaleen offered up a final prayer, leading the crowd in an impassioned plea to turn from darkness and back to the light. Once she had finished, she would leave. Fallon guessed she would be more than happy about that. He slipped his hand into his pouch and felt the bloody quarrel there, the one that had killed Cavan. He drew strength from it for what was about to come.

Cavan’s body, cleaned as best it could be and dressed again in fine clothes, was carried gently onto the stage. Even though he was decaying, he was still recognizable as their beloved Crown Prince, and the crowd sobbed and cried at the sight.

“He was killed at his father’s orders and his heart offered to Zorva,” Fallon shouted. “Now I shall bring up King Aidan to face judgment for his crimes!”

They howled their approval and he turned away, wondering what they would say if they knew it was he who had loosed the fatal quarrel.

*

King Aidan proved difficult to get out of the cell. Firstly the ropes had cut off his circulation and he was barely able to walk and had to be dragged along by Gallagher and Craddock. When his gag was removed he immediately demanded to be let go and for breakfast to be brought to him. They kept his hands tied and hauled him up the stairs and out through the throne room. Duchess Dina was there waiting, looking pale but composed, although the King was glaring daggers at her.

“It has to be done,” she said, falling into step behind them.

The corridors were lined with many of the men Fallon had won over from Kelty’s guards. Aidan seemed to recognize some of them and ranted and raged at them until Fallon was forced to replace the gag. The King tried to break free but against the grim villagers he did not have a hope. They hurried the King along towards the front gate of the castle.

The platform almost hid them from sight as they went out the castle gate but the closest people could see, and instantly a huge roar went up, which was taken up by the rest.

Aidan began to struggle in earnest then, especially when they reached the platform steps – it was impossible to get him up them until Fallon thumped him in the stomach. They dragged him up and dropped him on the raw wood, stained with the blood and brains of his cronies.

Fallon looked at Dina, who nodded to him. “You know what must be done,” she said.

He raised his left hand and then pointed down at Aidan. “This is King Aidan, who is here to be judged and punished for his crimes against you all!”

His voice echoed across the square and silenced the crowd, who leaned forwards to hear his next words.

“He has sold his soul to Zorva!” Fallon called.

Half of the crowd screamed in horror, the other half in outrage.

“He planned to convert you all to Zorva and make you sacrifice your children to that foul god of death, so he would grow in power.”

The crowd howled back at that and Fallon had to wave for calm before they quieted down.

“There were no witches. Instead it was the King’s men, stealing children for him to sacrifice on an altar to Zorva! All the women he burned were innocent!”

That also caused a shockwave through the crowd but this reaction was more mixed. Fallon feared that was because some of them had helped with the burnings.

“There were no selkies. Instead he sold our people to the Kottermanis as slaves, to make himself even richer!”

This accusation brought a far stronger roar of anger.

“He will make us part of the Kottermani Empire and drag us into evil. He even had his own son killed! Prince Cavan is dead because he would not convert to Zorva, while Swane has run because he did!”

Now there were cries of horror, for the people had loved Cavan. Fallon felt the mood of the crowd and waved to the side of the platform.

Bran helped a line of parents forward, men and women broken by their grief, led by Conor, the man Fallon had rescued from the snatchers.

“They took my daughter Becca,” he cried, Padraig making sure his voice carried right across the square. “Stole her from our home, then cut out her heart for Zorva and left her body to rot in a cellar in the castle. We cannot even be sure whether she rests with Aroaril after death or is doomed to serve Zorva for ever more.”

The crowd was silenced by horror at this, parents dragging their children closer.

Fallon nodded to the grief-stricken Conor and the man, tears streaming down his face, walked off the platform to allow others to come forwards and explain their stories. All were the same.

A weeping woman haltingly told how her son had been snatched from the street itself and Prince Cavan had tried to save the boy, only to lose the snatchers across the rooftops. He had lingered at the marketplace because he wanted a new cloak, not one handed down to him by his brothers. The next time she had seen him, rats had been at him and there was a hole in his chest where his heart had been.

On and on it went, until half the crowd was weeping as well, the others baying for blood.

Fallon let the last woman step off the platform then nodded to Brendan, signaling for him to drag Aidan to his feet.

“For years he has stolen your money and punished you for no reason. Now he wants you to worship Zorva and give your blood as well as your silver to make him rich and powerful. What say you? Will you give him your children to be killed?”

“No!” they screamed back at him.

“He killed his own cousin, the Duke of Lunster, when he too rejected Zorva!”

That provoked a smaller response from the crowd but an enormous one from Aidan. Dina, meanwhile, covered her face with her hands and staggered back off the stage.

Fallon glanced down at Aidan and the King’s eyes were bulging madly. He pulled the gag clear of Aidan’s mouth.

“I never touched Kinnard!” the King snarled.

“Why should I believe a liar?” Fallon asked.

“You have no right to do this. I will make you suffer!”

Fallon had seen Aidan at his most reasonable and that King might have cast enough doubt among the crowd to make things difficult. After all, they had known nothing else and many would still feel an allegiance to the King. The only person who could break that was Aidan himself and the King had worked himself up into one of his furies. Perfect. Fallon raised his right arm. Instantly the King’s voice boomed out over the square. At first he raged at Fallon then, when he realized all were hearing him, turned to address the crowd.

“You think you have the right to judge me? I am appointed by the gods! Aroaril gave me the right to rule and Zorva has given me the strength to do so! What are you against that? You are ants, worth nothing! Your lives are mine to take, for you belong to me! The only way you can save yourselves is if you bring me the heads of Fallon and all who support him. Then throw yourselves down at my feet and beg forgiveness and I might not kill you all!”

The crowd drew back in the face of his anger.

“I own you, all of you and I will do with you as you wish. Now I command you to rise up and free me and any that do not will beg for death by the time I finish with you! How dare you oppose me?”

The angry mutterings started then.

“I am your King and I am ordering you to free me or so help me, I will see every one of your heads decorate the walls of this city! I will make you watch me rip out the hearts of your children and you will learn your folly then! I am your King, given to you by the gods! You are nothing! Free me now or the country will shudder to hear what I have done to you!”

Fallon dropped his right arm. He had heard enough and he could see the crowd had too. Mothers were covering their children’s ears, while fathers were shouting back at Aidan. He reached into his pouch and brought out the bloody quarrel, the one that had taken Cavan’s life.

Aidan stopped ranting at the crowd, his voice now washed away in the anger that was coming back from the people.

“What are you doing?” he snarled at Fallon, his voice harsh and hoarse.

For answer Fallon grabbed the King by his shoulder and rammed the rusting point of the bloody quarrel deep into the King’s side, punching the heavy point through skin and muscle and into the organs beyond. Blood sprayed over his hand and the King gave out a terrible, high scream that silenced the crowd.

Fallon felt the quarrel sink in until his fist was pressing against the King’s side. He twisted the bolt viciously, sawing it back and forth, making blood splash out, while Aidan shook and shrieked. Fallon ripped the quarrel out and the King’s legs seemed to lose strength and he sagged against Fallon.

But Fallon pushed Aidan away, hatred for the King washing away any disgust he felt for what he was doing.

The King, screeching in pain, staggered around the platform, head thrown back against the agony.

The crowd was silent, watching him with a mixture of horror and delight and satisfaction.

He almost made it to the edge of the platform but his legs gave way and he fell to the ground, shaking and scrabbling.

Brendan started forwards but Fallon held out a bloodstained hand.

“Let him die hard. He has made the rest of us suffer for long enough,” he said harshly.

Seeing Aidan’s twitches and moans growing weaker did not diminish his anger and hatred. The King had infected the whole land with his evil and while killing him was long overdue, it was not the end of things.