The Bloody Quarrel (The Complete Edition) (41 page)

“What about these missing scrolls that got burned? Maybe that was something important. Maybe even the details about Regan’s informers in the city,” Padraig said.

“If Gannon wasn’t lying to us,” Fallon sighed. “I don’t trust anyone or anything. We keep them locked up and have Casey watch the Duchess like a hawk. She can do nothing with our guards around her.”

With the knife pressed into her throat, Bridgit was forced to accompany them up onto the deck, where a crowd gathered. Blaine was threatening the others with Bridgit’s knife, but it was Carrick’s blade at her neck that was keeping the others back.

“Where’s Keegan, Fitz and Arron? Come forward now and take your reward!” Blaine called out.

Nobody came forward but the crowd parted to show the three of them standing sheepishly at the back.

“So they helped you escape?” Bridgit asked coolly.

“That’s enough from you! I have heard the last of your stinking orders! Telling us to obey you as if you dropped out of Aroaril’s chamber pot. You’re a stupid bloody woman and if you say anything again I will cut your tits off!” Carrick screamed at her then moved the knife down until it was resting on her breastbone, emphasizing his threat.

Bridgit looked down at the knife, seeing how dented and blunted it was, and how the hand that held it was scratched and bloodied, and something Fallon had once told her came back to her then.

“Keegan, Arron, Fitz, get up here. We are going to be running the ship now and things will be done right,” Blaine announced.

The trio did not move at first but, with everyone staring at them, they finally shuffled forwards to stand with Blaine.

“We five are going to eat, and you are going to work for us. We were the ones who got you away from Kotterman and we are the ones who will protect you if the Kottermanis come back. We have your precious Bridgit and if you want her to keep breathing, you are going to do what we say. So it’s time for some tough decisions. Some of those little kids are just useless mouths to feed—”

A cry of horror and outrage rose out of the crowd and Carrick turned away from Bridgit to glare at them, keeping his knife pressed into her chest.

Instantly Bridgit surged forwards. The tip of the knife dug into the skin over her breastbone but hit the bone and went no further. Instead, the blunted knife twisted in Carrick’s grasp and dropped to the deck from his wounded fingers.

He turned back but she was already swinging her right arm, her hand in a fist but with the thumb cocked out. It drove into his eye and she felt it give beneath her sharp nail, spattering her hand with warm ooze as the eyeball burst.

Carrick squealed in pain and shock and jerked his head back. She lashed out with her foot, driving it into his groin. He staggered away, one hand clasped over his ruined eye, the other to his breeches.

His brother spun around and shouted in anger but before he could take more than two steps towards Bridgit he was swamped under a wave of angry parents, knife plucked from his hand, quickly beaten unconscious by a score of fists.

The other three, Keegan, Fitz and Arron, held out their hands in surrender but nobody was in the mood to be merciful and they were also beaten to the deck.

“Bring them all over here,” Bridgit said coldly.

The five of them were dragged over to the rail and there, battered and bruised, they were lashed tight with rope and propped upright, unable to move.

Carrick was weeping, tears of pain from one eye, tears of blood from the other, while Blaine snuffled to breathe through a broken nose and smashed lips. The other three were pleading their case, claiming they knew nothing about it, but she was not interested in hearing what they had to say. She checked on Caron, the woman whose scream had woken everyone and discovered she had a bruised face and a nasty cut on her cheekbone from where Blaine had punched her but nothing worse.

“Are you all right?” Riona asked, examining the gash on Bridgit’s chest. Luckily the days of rationing had meant there was little flesh between the knife and her breastbone, and while she had an angry-looking cut, it was easy enough to staunch with a torn scrap of cloth that she kept pressed there.

“What were you thinking?” Nola gasped. “Throwing yourself on a knife?”

Bridgit smiled. “He had it pressed against my breastbone and you would need one of Brendan’s hammers to knock a knife through there. Fallon told me once he had stabbed someone in the middle of the chest and had the knife just bounce off. A sharper knife would have done more damage but I was not going to let them hurt a child, no matter what it cost.”

“Even so—”

“I did what I had to. Now I must again,” she told her friends quietly and then waved for silence. “I am sorry,” she told the crowd. “I was trying to do the right thing and get these men home, especially after the way their cousins were killed.”

“That’s right, you killed them!” Carrick cried in a voice cracked by pain.

She pointed at him. “They broke into our food store, gorged themselves, risking the lives of everyone aboard, then threatened the children. Even if we wanted to return them for judgment for their crimes, we cannot. They have to go, if we are to live.”

Instantly the five of them, even the dazed Blaine, sent up a howl of protest, begging for mercy, promising to be good, promising anything for another chance.

The pain from the wound on her chest stopped any pity from reaching Bridgit’s heart. “Too late,” she told them.

She walked over to Carrick, who still had his eyes screwed shut against the pain of the missing one. He was leaning against the rail and she bent, waited for the ship to tilt with the waves, then grabbed his tied legs and lifted. He screamed and tried to thrash around but was held too tight by the ropes. For a moment she thought she could not do it, that she was too weak from lack of food, but then he reached the tipping point and vanished over the side.

The other four looked at her with sheer terror on their faces as Carrick’s wail was cut off by the splash as he hit the water. She looked at Blaine’s size and took a deep breath.

“Give me a hand here,” she said.

For a long moment nobody moved, then there was a rush to grab the wailing Blaine and flip him up and over the rail.

Beside them, the youngest of the other three, Fitz, had wet himself and was shaking with fear, tears running down his face.

“Please, we didn’t do anything! We didn’t even know!” he begged, as hands reached for him.

“Then why did they ask for you? And how did they get a knife?” Bridgit demanded.

“It was Keegan! It was all his idea, to steal from the selkie tribute, to give them a knife, everything!”

“You just went along with it,” Bridgit said coldly.

“Please. We will do anything! Just don’t kill us!” Fitz wept.

Beside him, the other two, Arron and Keegan, were also white with fear and pleading for their lives.

Bridgit looked at them carefully. If she had seen any of them in Baltimore before this, she would have instantly called for Fallon to run them out of the village. They looked like they would rather thieve and lie than work and nothing they had done since then, especially on the ship, had changed her mind about them.

“Keegan, did you give them the knife?” she asked.

All eyes turned to the tall, skinny thief and he twisted in his bonds, looking for a way out. “They threatened me,” he said finally. “But I didn’t do it. It was Fitz what gave them the knife!”

Bridgit strode over to him, bent down, grabbed his knees and flipped him up and over the rail.

The other two were now openly sobbing and Fitz’s bowels opened, to add to the stink of his piss running down his legs and puddling on the deck. She was tempted to hurl them both overboard and be done with it but she wanted to believe something could be saved from this and, besides, the tears on the face of the youngest one were reminding her of Kerrin.

“Aroaril, please, have mercy, I don’t want to die!” Fitz begged, while Arron just begged for his life, praying to Aroaril over and over and over again.

“Listen to me,” she told them and they stopped their whimpers and looked at her, terror and hope warring on their faces.

“If you stay on this ship, you will be tied to the mast and you will work from dawn to dusk, for less food than a small child, and if you try anything, you will go over the side. What say you to this?”

They gabbled their agreement, almost breaking their necks they nodded their heads so fast and hard.

“Release them but keep a rope tied around their ankle to the mainmast. Their first task will be to clean up themselves and the deck and then they will do anything else anyone can think of,” Bridgit ordered.

People moved to obey and she stepped back, exhausted. She leaned against the ship’s rail and looked back but could see nothing in their wake, not even a bobbing head. She looked inside herself and could not find any regret for what she had done. Three men were dead at her orders, two of them at her hand. It had been a choice between them and the children on board.

“You need to rest,” Riona told her softly.

“I need to find out how much food went into their useless guts,” she replied and pushed herself upright. All the people on board were her children and what mother rested when her children needed her?

*

A huge cheer startled Bridgit and she walked over briskly, to see a grinning Fitz bring a fish on board. A few days ago she would have run over there to get a closer look but she had little energy and none to waste on running. At least Fitz and Arron were bringing in a few fish each day. With little useful they could do, it was a good use of their time. And, without the fish they were catching, things would be even worse. As it was, they were all down to one meal a day. The nursing mothers, the men and the younger children always got some fish with it, to give them some nourishment but, for the rest of them, it was a small handful of grains and a few dates. The oranges and coconuts were long gone. That diet had given many of them stomach upsets as well and now she was also worrying about the water. They had to be getting close to Gaelland but, while the weather was definitely colder and the sky often clouded, it stayed stubbornly dry. She did not wish for storms to return but they needed rain. They had few barrels left and the water tasted foul.

“Well done, Fitz. See if you can catch a few more. As big as you like!” she told the young man gently.

He nodded nervously. He was always hesitant around her now, which was only understandable considering she had been a heartbeat away from killing him, but he was eager to please and she felt he might even be worth saving. Away from the poisonous influence of Keegan, he was a different man. Even his friend Arron was trying hard to help.

Yet, as she walked away, she reflected that she might have saved them from a quick death for a slow one instead. If they did not find Gaelland soon, they would starve to death. The old and young would go first, despite the way she was giving the children extra. The weight was melting off all of them.

She found a quiet space of rail and looked out to sea, straining to see something that resembled land. She reached down and rubbed her stomach, feeling her ribs more than she had in the past ten years at least. How was the baby doing? There had been no pain and no blood, which was at least something. But she had deliberately given herself the same small rations as the others, not the more generous amount offered to the nursing mothers. How long could she live on that before her body had enough and decided it had to get rid of its little passenger? Once that would have terrified her, sent her screaming into the darkness below decks, where she could sob her fears out in secret.

But she could not afford that now. Besides, there were other lives to worry about. Several of the older women and men were talking about refusing food, or even throwing themselves overboard, to give the others a better chance. She had crushed such talk so far and the few fish that came on board gave everyone just enough hope to keep going. After all, the next day might be the last they spent at sea.

She sighed. It was hard not to wonder what might have happened had she done things differently. If they had stayed a little longer to throw just a few more sacks of flour onto the ship. If she had caught Blaine and Carrick earlier, thrown them overboard the first time, or even left them back in Kotterman. Yet there was no use crying over spilt milk. They just had to press on and hope.

“What is it now? I thought you told me we could do nothing until spring, just sit and watch that bastard Fallon grow more confident and secure on my throne as my father’s shade cries out for vengeance,” Swane grumbled.

Ryan cleared his throat and brought out a small scroll.

“Sire, this has arrived from Berry. You remember your father’s chamberlain, Regan?”

“Aye. Cut down by the murdering traitor outside my father’s rooms,” Swane grunted.

“He had a network of men through Berry who kept their eyes and ears open for the crown. Of course nobody knew who they were except for Regan, who fed the information they supplied to your father. But it seems this net of ears is still working and it has heard things.”

“Tell me more,” Swane demanded.

“The Duchess Dina has been arrested by Fallon and is being used as a puppet to keep the Guilds and neighboring nobles happy.”

“She will pay for that!” Swane spat.

“But it seems that she now has Regan’s network working for her and promises support to you, sire.”

“What can that do?”

“She seeks your promise of pardon and reward before she will give us any more. But, as a token, she sends us Fallon’s plan for using the streets to defy and destroy any attacking army. She swears she can give us Berry and, for a reward, will tell you how it can be done.”

Swane held out his hand for the scroll. “I like the sound of that.”

“What have Fallon and the others been up to?” Bridgit asked. “Now would be the time to see them come sailing for us. I could almost forgive them leaving us to find our own way home if they appeared over the horizon with food.”

“As long as it’s not dates. I would be happy if I never had to eat another date again,” Nola said grimly.

“You might get your wish. After tomorrow, there are no more dates and we are down to the last bag of grains,” Riona said, trying for a smile but not quite making it.

Bridgit closed her eyes. The previous night, an elderly couple had stepped off the side of the ship. Dermot had seen it and reported that they had even waved as they jumped. The truly sad thing was, it would make no difference. Maybe if they had done so at the start of this cursed voyage then there would be more food but an extra two handfuls of dates was not going to keep everyone alive longer.

The taste of failure was even more bitter than the water they were drinking.

“Tell me I’m dreaming, or is this the answer to our prayers? A ship is coming this way! Maybe it is them, or even a noble! I wouldn’t care which, as long as they have something to eat and drink!” Nola exclaimed.

Bridgit’s eyes snapped open and she pushed herself upright. If everyone had not been so tired and listless, someone would have noticed it before, because it was more than just a mast on the horizon. She could see the sails and the hull. From the bow wave, it was heading straight for them. She watched it for a long moment, relief flooding through her, before she realized it was not a Gaelish ship.

“Get up,” she ordered her friends. “Go below and – quietly mind you – tell every man and woman to come up on deck, with whatever weapons they can find. The children are to stay below and not come up for any reason.”

“What, is it really a ship? I thought I was dreaming,” Nola gasped.

“It is Kottermani. They have found us. We have to get ready. Hurry,” Bridgit said.

They scurried off and she walked up to the tiller, where the brothers Barry and Alroy were holding on wearily, conscious only of the need to keep it in line with the knife they had stuck into the deck that dawn to indicate where north-east was.

“Wake up!” she snapped. “There is a Kottermani ship sailing right for us!”

They came fully awake and began to haul at the tiller, to turn and run away.

“Don’t,” Bridgit said. “They will catch us. Our only chance is to sail right at them, force them to turn aside and then try to get past them. Turn at them and then do not turn away, no matter what happens. Can you do that for me?”

“But we shall both be sunk, and all will die,” Barry whispered.

“Only if they strike us. But they will turn away, for they want to live. We have nothing to lose. And, if we go, they come with us,” Bridgit said fiercely. “I ask again, can I trust you?”

The brothers looked at each other and then nodded. “Aye. You have got us this far. We will follow you to the end,” Alroy said.

She left them and walked back down the deck, to where dazed and frightened men and women were spilling out onto the deck.

“Listen to me!” she shouted, using the last of her strength to push away the tiredness and the gnawing hunger inside. “We must be close to home. That’s how they found us. We shall sail right at them, make them turn aside, then we shall run up every sail and stay ahead of them long enough to make it home. I want us at the ship’s rail first. As they go past, some of them might try to jump aboard. We cannot let them live. They might even throw ropes or the like to stop us. We must cut them.”

“And if they hit us?” Dermot asked.

“Then we shall sink, and will have nothing else to worry about. They will expect us to surrender. They will look down on us. One last effort and we can give them the slip. I know you are tired. Aroaril, I know you are hungry. But stand with me this last time.”

She glared around at them but they looked listless, defeated.

“I am with you!” Fitz called, from his usual position near the mast. “If I can save us, I will.”

A moment later Arron also agreed, and that seemed to spur the others on. They were not enthusiastic, they were obviously scared, but it was all she could hope for. It was a harsh blow, to have come so far, suffered so much and now to face the Kottermanis at this time. But perhaps it was better this way, she decided. They could face their enemy and make a brave finish, if nothing else.

*

The gap between the two vessels narrowed rapidly, the Kottermani vessel thumping through the waves.

“If we don’t make it through this, I want to tell you both how much your friendship has meant to me. I could not have done it without you,” she told Nola and Riona.

“We will not die here,” Riona said determinedly. “We have come too far to fail now. We shall escape – and we look forward to you annoying us for years to come.”

Nola merely reached out and gave her a hug and Bridgit felt her iron control crack a little at the contact. But the Kottermani ship was too close for anything else and she drew her knife, drawing strength with it.

She remembered how she had taken on the Kottermanis and told herself she could do that again.

They were aiming right for its bows and she pointed the knife at them.

“Don’t stop! Right through them!” she cried and the others took up the shout, hurling their defiance out at the approaching Kottermanis.

“If I don’t see Devlin until the day we both stand before Aroaril, I am going to make his eternity a misery for not coming to get us,” Riona said, with the ghost of a smile.

Bridgit smiled dutifully. What had happened to Fallon? Then she pushed that thought away. As long as Kerrin was safe, that was enough. It was the bargain she had made that night back at Baltimore and she had no regrets about it.

For a few moments, it looked as if the Kottermanis were going to take up the challenge and smash their own bow into theirs, but then their ship swung violently to the right, sails fluttering as the wind spilled away from them. The two ships passed so close that Bridgit felt as though she could reach out and touch the other.

“Let none on board!” she roared and led a rush to the ship’s rail, where they brandished what weapons they had and shouted threats at the Kottermanis.

But, instead of the expected rush of warriors swinging across, there was nothing. Instead she saw massed ranks of Kottermanis, bows in hand.

“Down!” she screamed, fearing a devastating volley that would cut her people to pieces. But still nothing came. She peeked over the rail to see them staring at the ship, no arrows on their bowstrings or in their hands.

“What in Aroaril’s name are they up to?” Nola asked.

“Who cares?” Bridgit replied, then cupped her free hand around her mouth. “The sails! Get everything up!”

But while the men rushed to obey, the lack of food meant they were slow and clumsy, moving in slow motion as the sails were unfurled.

Meanwhile the Kottermani ship kept turning, swinging back around into the breeze. Its sails billowed with new wind and more dropped into place, and it took off after them, eating up the distance as if they were standing still. This time it moved across to the left side.

“Stand firm!” Bridgit shouted, feeling her voice crack even as she did so. “Show them what it means to be Gaelish!”

The cheer that followed her words was thin, even to her ears.

“Get down! Stand ready!” Bridgit shouted up at the men trying to fix sails in place. It was painfully obvious they could not outsail the Kottermanis and she needed the men to join the fight to hold the deck. Getting warriors across the sea was going to be difficult and dangerous and she thought they could well make the Kottermanis pay dearly. But the bowmen worried her. They could sail around and pick her people off and there was not a damned thing she could do about it.

The Kottermani ship came alongside, slowing smoothly to match their speed, its rail lined with silent bowmen. Again, they held no arrows in hand, nor were there any on their bowstring.

“What are you waiting for? Come on then, you bastards!” Bridgit roared at them.

“Bridgit, we are not here to attack you!” a voice called from the stern of the Kottermani ship and she looked wildly down there to see Prince Kemal standing by the rail.

“Then what are you doing?” she demanded.

“I think you have seen that, if we wanted to do you harm, we would have done so. Please, come and talk to me, as we did before, and I can explain everything.”

Bridgit glared at him. “Why don’t you come on board here?”

Kemal smiled, his teeth showing white, yet there appeared little humor there. “I am here to help you. But I am not an idiot. Come aboard, or I shall have to come and get you!”

He raised his hand and his bowmen produced arrows as one, placing them on the string and drawing back.

“Stop!” Bridgit called. “I will speak to you!”

“Don’t do it: it has to be a trap,” Riona said urgently.

“What choice do I have?” Bridgit asked, as the Kottermani bowmen returned arrows to quivers at a gesture from Kemal. “We are dead either way. If nothing else, I’ll get to him and make him set us free.”

Ropes were thrown across and tied tight, bringing the two ships close together.

“As soon as I am on board, let go and move away,” Bridgit ordered. “I’ll talk to Kemal and if this is another game of his I’ll come back with his head.”

Dermot, Nola, Riona, Fitz and a few others nodded but she could see the fight was draining out of the others, taken by their hunger and exhaustion. It was all down to her. For a moment she wilted. She was tired and starving and there was a child growing inside her. Maybe it would be better to give up? Then she crushed that thought. They would not beat her. And if there were a chance to get a knife to Kemal’s throat, these Kottermanis would fall over to save their Prince’s life. Weakness was her one weapon and she planned to use it. Again, the slaving bastards thought they held all the power. She would prove them wrong.

Nola and Riona helped her to stand on the rail and then she stepped across the narrow gap between the two ships, determined not to glance down at the rushing water beneath. One slip and she would be crushed between the two hulls. She ignored that and looked at the Kottermanis waiting for her on the other side. With a shock of surprise, she recognized one of them as the slave master Gokmen. He held out a meaty paw for her and she nearly jumped backwards. But it was too late for second thoughts and she stepped decisively across, taking his hand so he could help her down to their deck.

The Kottermanis gave her space and she drew herself up.

“Take me to Prince Kemal,” she ordered.

Gokmen’s eyes glittered angrily but he merely nodded and led the way up to the stern of the ship.

The Kottermanis looked well fed to her eyes and it was only seeing them that made her realize how thin her own people were.

Kemal was pacing the deck when she arrived and he turned swiftly at her approach, snapping out orders in Kottermani. “Weapons?” he then asked her.

Bridgit shook her head wearily, making her shoulders slump as if she had not even the energy to answer. The knife was back on board with Nola.

But Kemal clicked his fingers and Gokmen grabbed her arm, patting her down to make sure there was nothing hidden. She was aware that her clothes were hanging loose on her now.

“She has nothing,” Gokmen said, then gave her a push.

She turned that into a tired stumble and Kemal snapped out new orders she could not understand.

Gokmen said something back in Kottermani but Kemal was insistent and Bridgit could see, out of the corner of her eye, Gokmen and the other guards all leaving, so she was alone with the Prince. For a moment she thought it was a trap, then she rejoiced anyway. They thought her weak and helpless. Perfect. She would let him get close and then go for the jeweled dagger in his belt. Once that was at his throat, they were hers.

“Bridgit, I am here to help you get home to Gaelland, not to bring you back to Kotterman,” Kemal said softly, urgently.

She glanced up in surprise, her plan of attack vanishing in her shock. She stared at his face and saw the lines of worry, the bags under his eyes that had not been there the last time they spoke.

“What?” she gasped.

“You obviously need food, and you have become lost as well. We shall send food over and then guide you to Berry,” he said.

Bridgit looked at him. Was the hunger making her imagine things? “I am sorry, but I thought you said you were going to help us get home, and feed us?” she said. “Did you mean to say something different in our language?”

“No!” he hissed. “I am here to help you. I helped you escape from Adana, sent away the guards so you could escape. Now I will help you get the rest of the way home.”

Bridgit blinked twice, then pinched herself. When nothing had changed, she decided it could not be a dream. “Why?”

Kemal glanced over her shoulder but everyone else was obviously sufficiently far away that he felt he could talk.

“I have met your husband Fallon,” he said flatly. “He has my wife and children. We shall exchange you and your people for my family. You have to reach Berry safely or my wife and boys will die.”

Bridgit felt a surge of triumph, so strong it made her head feel light. Then, instinctively, she questioned it. “How do I know this is not some strange trap?” she demanded. “Fallon would not hurt a woman or child.”

Kemal’s eyes widened and his calm demeanor cracked. “He captured me first and tortured me, then he grabbed my wife and boys and held a blade at my youngest son’s eyes,” he snarled at her. “The thought of what he might have done to them haunts me every night. And as for a trap, why would I need that? You are half-starved and at my mercy. If I so chose, I could shoot you down like dogs or simply sink your vessel and all aboard.”

Bridgit had to admit he had a point and the ragged emotion in his voice gave it the ring of truth. She also enjoyed the thought that Kemal had been in fear for his family held in a strange country. Perhaps he would have a better understanding of what he had put them through. And, if not, well, that served him right anyway.