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

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

  Beset on all sides, one husband and wife are all that stand between a kingdom and its destruction.

  Fallon and Bridgit are reunited at last, but time is still against them. Having evaded treachery, escaped slavery, and thwarted a hostile invasion, they now find themselves in the eye of a ferocious military and political storm.

  In the east, Swane is gathering an army of desperate men to retake the throne. In the west, the Kottermani princess is planning to bring the full force of the Empire down on Gaelland in an effort to free her husband, Prince Kemal. And under their very noses, the Duchess Dina’s agents are hard at work turning the people against Fallon and his friends. But worse than this, Bridgit begins to fear her husband may not be the best man to lead the country after all.

  Together against the odds, Fallon and Bridgit must dare to hope they can make the late Prince Cavan’s vision for a fair and free Gaelland come true. But will the price be too high to pay?

  An epic fantasy perfect for fans of George RR Martin, David Gemmell and Raymond E. Feist.

  Contents

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

  Dedication

  Map

  CHAPTER 1

  CHAPTER 2

  CHAPTER 3

  CHAPTER 4

  CHAPTER 5

  CHAPTER 6

  CHAPTER 7

  CHAPTER 8

  CHAPTER 9

  CHAPTER 10

  CHAPTER 11

  CHAPTER 12

  CHAPTER 13

  CHAPTER 14

  CHAPTER 15

  CHAPTER 16

  CHAPTER 17

  CHAPTER 18

  CHAPTER 19

  CHAPTER 20

  CHAPTER 21

  CHAPTER 22

  CHAPTER 23

  CHAPTER 24

  CHAPTER 25

  CHAPTER 26

  CHAPTER 27

  CHAPTER 28

  CHAPTER 29

  CHAPTER 30

  CHAPTER 31

  CHAPTER 32

  CHAPTER 33

  CHAPTER 34

  CHAPTER 35

  CHAPTER 36

  CHAPTER 37

  CHAPTER 38

  CHAPTER 39

  CHAPTER 40

  CHAPTER 41

  CHAPTER 42

  CHAPTER 43

  CHAPTER 44

  CHAPTER 45

  CHAPTER 46

  CHAPTER 47

  CHAPTER 48

  CHAPTER 49

  CHAPTER 50

  CHAPTER 51

  CHAPTER 52

  CHAPTER 53

  CHAPTER 54

  CHAPTER 55

  CHAPTER 56

  CHAPTER 57

  CHAPTER 58

  CHAPTER 59

  CHAPTER 60

  CHAPTER 61

  CHAPTER 62

  CHAPTER 63

  CHAPTER 64

  CHAPTER 65

  CHAPTER 66

  CHAPTER 67

  CHAPTER 68

  CHAPTER 69

  CHAPTER 70

  CHAPTER 71

  CHAPTER 72

  CHAPTER 73

  CHAPTER 74

  CHAPTER 75

  CHAPTER 76

  CHAPTER 77

  CHAPTER 78

  CHAPTER 79

  CHAPTER 80

  CHAPTER 81

  CHAPTER 82

  CHAPTER 83

  CHAPTER 84

  Acknowledgments

  About Duncan Lay

  Also by Duncan Lay

  Copyright

  To Belinda, Gabriella and Shaun.

  CHAPTER 1

  Swane pointed a dripping finger at the single candle that stood on the altar and willed its flame to grow, to become something he could use to burn Fallon and the rest of the bastard rebels out of his father’s castle.

  The candle’s flame expanded, lighting the room as if the sun had just come up, then it spluttered and died, turning to a wisp of smoke.

  “This isn’t working. Why isn’t it working?” Swane complained angrily, his face spattered with blood. In frustration, he hurled his shining knife across the room, where it struck the wall with a metallic clatter.

  “Sire, you have to give it time. If it was easy, then anyone could do it,” Ryan said soothingly, from the other side of the makeshift altar. In between them lay the corpse of a serving girl. Her face, still locked in its expression of terror, gazed up at them. Swane felt no guilt looking into her unseeing eyes. Instead, to him, they only seemed to mock him.

  Swane ground his teeth with anger. It should be so simple. He had watched Brother Nahuatl many times. Make the blood sacrifice and offer the heart to Zorva, then enjoy the power. But all he could get was enough for a simple trick, nothing he could use to terrify the world. He could not remember the right words, or maybe he had them in the wrong order. Or was there something else he was missing? It was all in the Fearpriest’s book, which he had been forced to leave behind when he fled Berry, just ahead of Fallon’s vengeance. He had thought to experiment until he found the power of Zorva but his host, the new Earl of Meinster, said this had to be his last sacrifice for now. While the ordinary people were cowed by years of the old Earl’s rule, who knew what would happen if word got out they were worshipping Zorva in the castle?

  “Well, how am I going to get my throne back without the power of Zorva? You and Meinster sit around all day telling me all the things I cannot do,” Swane whined. It isn’t fair! It isn’t my fault I didn’t pay enough attention to Brother Nahuatl. After all, who could have expected the Fearpriest would be slaughtered by that bastard Fallon?

  “Sire, we shall get your kingdom back. You just need to have patience. Something will happen to change our fortunes,” Ryan said.

  Swane laughed harshly. “You think someone will just walk through that door and hand me the key to winning back my kingdom?”

  “Of course not, sire, that is ridiculous,” Ryan said, but then was interrupted by someone thumping on the door.

  They exchanged a look, then Ryan tossed a cloth to the Prince, who hurriedly cleaned the blood off his face and hands, while Ryan covered the corpse of the serving girl and their makeshift altar.

  “Who is it?” Ryan asked loudly.

  “It is I, Meinster. Open up,” the new Earl called. He had not long taken up his title but already he was using that instead of his birth name, Swane thought sourly. Still, at least he was nothing to fear. Swane relaxed, tossing the bloodied cloth down and Ryan unlocked the door with relief, to reveal the young Earl.

  “Any luck?” he asked.

  “Nothing,” Ryan said.

  “Perhaps you need to use the rite to call for a Fearpriest. Bring a replacement for Brother Nahuatl here,” Meinster suggested.

  Swane shook his head, holding back his frustration only with great difficulty. “First it would take moons for them to arrive. And second, I want the power, I don’t want someone else taking it from me.” He rubbed his hands distractedly through his lustrous hair, anger and spite fighting for victory across his magically-enhanced face. It was the one time he did not resemble his murdered brother, Prince Cavan. “My father was going to have to rely on Nahuatl as well as Fallon to win him an Empire. I want it all for myself. I shall be King, Fearpriest and General and all shall bow before me.”

  “Of course, sire. But we need to get the power first, before we begin to plan what to do with it,” Ryan said.

  That was exactly the sort of good sense that was driving Swane mad.
r />   “To that end,” Meinster said, before Swane could say anything, “the Duchess Dina is here, pleading for an audience and promising that she can restore you to your throne.”

  “Well, sire, maybe the solution to our problems has just walked through the door,” Ryan said lightly.

  Swane wiped the last of the blood from his hands. “She had better have something good to say or she’ll go on this table and we’ll have one more try at summoning Zorva’s power.”

  *

  “Give me one reason why I shouldn’t kill you for helping that bastard Fallon,” Swane growled.

  Dina gave him her most winning smile, which had always brought men around to her side. It had not been a long trip north to the county of Meinster – where Swane held sway, thanks to the help of the Guild of Magic – but it had been a nervous one. She much preferred to deal with men such as Fallon and her late husband Kinnard. They were so much easier to manipulate. Yet she was getting a good feeling from Swane. For all his bluster, she suspected he was delightfully uncertain and controllable. Even better, he was obviously blessed with a complete lack of conscience, which had been the main flaws with Fallon and her husband. In Kinnard’s case, it had been a fatal flaw.

  “I can’t give you just one,” she said. “There are so many.”

  “Humor me. Give me something because, Zorva knows, I grow sick of waiting here while Fallon sits on my throne.”

  “Well, perhaps I should just say I want to see Fallon dragged out and executed and you triumphant on the throne and I have the way to do it,” she said with an easy smile. The fact he was still talking was a good sign.

  “I have heard much in the way of promises from people but little in the way of action.”

  She held up her fingers and counted.

  “I have your father’s network of informers in my hands and head. Get an army to Berry and I can get you inside. Meanwhile, I can tell you exactly what Fallon and his friends are doing and where his army is, not where he wants you to think it is. Then I can sow unrest in Berry, so the people will turn from Fallon and welcome you with open arms. With me I also have the leaders of the major Guilds from Berry, bringing you not just the money you need to take back your country but the magic to get you over the Spine, through the frozen mountain passes and into the west of Gaelland, before an unsuspecting Fallon knows you are there.”

  Swane leaned back in his chair. “Why are the Guilds not here with you?” he demanded.

  She bowed her head slightly. “They can be here within the day. They wait because, like me, they were forced to help Fallon or face death at his brutish hands. Yet they know that your father would have seen them as traitors and punished them accordingly. Your father, for all his talents, was a hard man to predict. They hope you will combine his best qualities with that of trust. They beg for the chance to make amends and restore you to your throne. As soon as I give them the message you will welcome their aid, they will rush to your side.”

  She saw his face darken at her words and wondered, for a moment, if she had overplayed her hand.

  But then Ryan, Swane’s silver-haired companion, leaned in and whispered into Swane’s ear. That was the role she wanted, she decided, watching Swane reluctantly nod. The trick was to get the hook in and then work it until it was set so deep he could not escape. Before coming here she had questioned the head of Regan’s informants, Munro, about Swane and all the stories swirling around him. It had been fascinating. There were all sorts of rumors about the real fate of Swane and Cavan’s mother, as well as tales of how he took his pleasures from the servants. It made for an interesting mix and certainly opened a door for her. After all, everything was a weapon. And, although Swane was young enough to be her son, that was merely an advantage. He had not met anything like her before.

  “So you threaten me?” Swane asked, breaking the silence.

  “Of course not, sire!” she said, putting all the hurt she could muster into her voice. “I merely seek to show you that I am your most loyal servant and, unlike the others who have given you false promises, I will have you outside Berry within another moon. Just say the word and it is yours.”

  “And if you cannot deliver on your promises?”

  She walked swiftly across to him, falling to one knee and taking his hand in hers. She slipped her other hand onto his inner thigh and angled her shoulders so he had no choice but to stare down the top of her low-cut silken dress.

  “Then you may do what you wish to me, sire,” she said in her throatiest voice.

  She felt his leg tremble slightly and knew he had taken the bait. The hook was set. It took some effort not to burst out laughing. Men were so stupid! They thought they were in control but they knew nothing.

  “Send word to the Guilds. Your time starts now,” he said.

  She looked up. “I swear I will see you rise,” she said huskily and saw the flicker on his face and the corresponding response in his trews. All too predictable. After all, that was where men’s brains were really kept. Within a moon, he would be doing whatever she wanted. Killing Fallon, for a start.

  CHAPTER 2

  Fallon looked out over the wreckage of Berry. On the horizon, huge columns of smoke showed where other towns burned. Gaelland was a charnel house and Berry was mere rubble. In between the smoldering houses, bodies choked the streets, the wreckage of what had been Gaelland’s biggest city. Dead faces stared up at him: men, women and children, all accusing him. Worse, they all seemed to have Prince Cavan’s face. It was all his fault. He had doomed them all. He had killed Cavan and unleashed horror on this land. The dead faces that did not look like Cavan haunted him even more. His friends and family. All dead. All had died in agony. He was the last one alive and he longed to join them in death, for the guilt and pain to be over. Behind him he could hear the slow footfalls of the men coming to kill him. He wanted to draw his sword and at least take some of them with him but it was jammed in his scabbard and the noise of boots on the stone was getting closer …

  Fallon jerked awake and sat up, feeling his heart pound. He looked over to where Bridgit was returning to bed, a cup of water in hand, her soft boots scraping on the stone floor.

  “What is it?” she asked, sitting down on the bed. “The dream again?”

  Fallon nodded. “It gets more real each time. Berry is destroyed and the rest of the country is aflame. It is my fault, because I killed Cavan.”

  Bridgit kicked her feet out of the boots. “You have to put that aside. You cannot let Cavan’s death destroy you.”

  “But if I had not killed him—”

  She grabbed his arm. “You cannot think like that. You have to put it aside.”

  “That’s all very well to say,” he said, reaching out for her water. “But we are the ones who have to make the decisions. Gaelland stands or falls on us.”

  She took a sip and then handed the cup to him and he drained it before passing it back.

  She inspected it with a sigh. “Do you want me to make more of the decisions? Take that fear away from you?”

  “I can’t put that on you. And you have the baby to think about,” Fallon said. “No, it has to be me. There is nobody else.”

  “Our friends,” she said simply. “We always ask them for advice anyway. That way we can discuss things and vote, if necessary. It won’t be just your choice or mine.”

  Fallon liked the sound of that the more he thought about it. “It works, because there will be seven of us, so we cannot be deadlocked.”

  “Only seven? But who are we leaving out?”

  “Padraig and Rosaleen. We can’t have a wizard or a priestess in there. It would look like magic or like the church is being used to rule Berry. Of course they can advise, but they can’t vote.”

  She nodded. “Well then, it is settled. Will that make you feel better?”

  Fallon chuckled. “Not completely but it might stop some of those dreams.”

  “Good. Now perhaps we can go back to sleep?”

  Fallon smiled
and lay back down. But he could feel the dream waiting for him. He would never be rid of the guilt for killing Cavan. Nor should he. He deserved to suffer.

  CHAPTER 3

  The castle was filled with the sound of music, laughter and cheering, just as it had been so many times before. But, unlike those times, there were no frightened servants rushing in and out, and the private banquet room was closed – it was far too small. Instead the throne room itself had been filled with a variety of mismatched chairs and tables and the women of Baltimore, Killarney and other small hamlets along the Lunster coast had done the cooking; family favorites and traditional recipes were being passed up and down the table. Lamb and potatoes made many tables creak, while there was also an astonishing array of creamy treats – honey cakes and the like – everything the women and children had been deprived of during their time in Kotterman. Friends and family shared plates, stories and embraces as they celebrated both their return from slavery and surviving the battle of Berry.

  Fallon used a throwing knife to bang on a goblet but it was lost among the hubbub and he finally had to get Padraig’s attention to nearly bring down the roof with a magical bellow for quiet.

  Even then, a score of children led by Devlin’s cheeky young son Will still scampered under the tables, playing a complicated chasing game and making people laugh.

  “Welcome home to those who escaped the Kottermanis, but let us all remember those who lost their lives along the way,” Fallon announced. “They will not be forgotten and their families will be cared for.”

  Heads bowed across the huge room as they acknowledged the likes of Murphy, killed by Swane and his Fearpriest. In one corner, women reached out to embrace Ena and her children, as well as the other grieving women.

  Gallagher surged to his feet.

  “Here’s to Fallon, who led us through dark times and risked his life and soul to not just get back our families but defeat the Kottermanis!” he shouted, raising his glass.

  At this most of the men in the room stood, also holding up their drinks.

  Dermot, the farmer whose dog had escaped the Kottermanis and adopted Kerrin, while he himself had helped Bridgit’s escape plan, was the first to finish and raise his drink again. “And here’s to Bridgit, who rescued us and led us back from Kotterman and then tricked the Kottermani Prince to win the battle!”