Free The Last Quarrel (The Complete Edition) by Duncan Lay Page A

sides had learned a lesson, it seemed, for the King had quietly dropped the new poll tax afterwards.
    “I wish we could have been there,” Kerrin said. “Who were the goodies?”
    Fallon glanced at Bridgit, who was pretending to do some knitting but listening carefully. “Nobody was in the right. The King and his nobles shouldn’t have used soldiers against ordinary folk and they shouldn’t have rebelled against the King.”
    “Which side would you have been on, Dad?” Kerrin asked eagerly.
    “If I was a sergeant of the Duke’s then I would have fought for the king.”
    “Well they won, so that’s good!”
    “There’s nothing good about a battle, my lad!” Bridgit said warningly.
    “I would have rather stood with the people,” Fallon admitted. “The problem was, they didn’t have a leader. They were just groups of men determined to protect their families. It would have been like drawing a sword against Brendan, or Devlin, or Gallagher. I couldn’t do that.”
    “How would you have beaten the King’s men, then?”
    “I would have led the soldiers into the mud by the river, where they couldn’t charge the horses, and used that against them. The King was sure he was going to win – all his soldiers knew it. I would have tricked them and beaten them.”
    As he spoke, he moved Kerrin’s little figures, letting the horsemen get stuck in a rug and then having the ones on foot swarm over them.
    “Then you could have won and been King!”
    Fallon laughed. “I couldn’t be a King. Only nobles can be kings.”
    “Why can’t we be kings? Do they have something we don’t?”
    “Well, they are special,” Fallon said, doubtfully.
    “Fallon,” Bridgit said warningly.
    “We’re told Aroaril chose the Kings himself, making them blessed,” Fallon hastily concluded.
    “Enough of this talk. How about a few riddles?” Bridgit suggested, putting away her yarn.
    Kerrin was reluctant to leave his toys without fighting at least one more battle, but they soon had him tempted.
    “Feed me and I grow, tame me and I shall serve, but turn your back on me and I can devour you and your whole home,” Bridgit said. “What is that?”
    “A wolf!” Kerrin said instantly.
    “Can a wolf eat your house?” She smiled.
    “Maybe if he was very hungry, and you spread some butter on it,” Fallon said.
    She slapped his arm.
    “A man usually makes him but a woman is the one who tames him,” she added.
    Kerrin scratched his head.
    “It’s something inside this house, that we see every day,” Fallon offered.
    “Something that could eat our whole house, inside it?” Kerrin glanced behind him and then grinned. “A fire!”
    “Good one!” Fallon applauded. “My turn now. When I am alive I cannot speak. You can roast me and boil me and bite me and I will do nothing. But if you cut my body I shall make you cry.”
    “That’s a lovely one. You couldn’t do one about a cow, or a lamb, for once?” Bridgit said with a smile.
    “How do you know that isn’t a lamb?” Fallon challenged.
    “Because I know you too well,” she said. “Go on then. What is it?”
    “Is it a selkie?” Kerrin asked.
    “No, not a selkie. There are no selkies,” Fallon promised.
    “We had some for dinner the other night,” Bridgit said to Kerrin.
    “Potatoes?”
    “No, what else?”
    “Onions!” Kerrin laughed. “And they made you cry, mam!”
    “Well, we don’t want her to cry at anything else, so it’s time you went to bed,” Fallon said.
    “One more?” Kerrin pleaded.
    “We’ll each do one tomorrow,” Bridgit promised. “You think up a good one and see if you can fool us both!”
    While Kerrin went outside to piss and Bridgit got his bed ready, Fallon sharpened his sword, giving it a light oil before replacing it in the leather scabbard, and then took out his ceremonial tunic. He only wore it a couple of times a year and he had to hunt for it in a chest. Bridgit had stored it with sprigs of lavender and, while it