Rockfleet (The Pirate Queen Book 0)

by Jennifer Rose McMahon

  Chaos.

  Shouting.

  Panic.

  Chapter 7

  "What's happening?" My panicked voice strained through the chaos.

  "Inside! We'll have a better view from me chambers." She yanked on me to follow her. "The MacMahuna's are coming, by land and by sea." She climbed the ladder to the next floor. "Word is they've got news from the crown. And more petty threats, I'm sure."

  I clamored after her up the winding stairs to her chamber. "Everyone's in a panic." My voice rose two octaves.

  "We need to prepare ourselves, Maeve. For anything. Everything."

  She spoke to me like she’d known me for a lifetime. I wasn’t new to her, the way all of this was new to me, and she trusted me. It was more than my saving Hugh. It went deeper than that… as if I’d taken the identity of someone from the past. Someone she knew and loved.

  She moved across the room, past the enormous fireplace, large enough to hide an army, and went straight to the open window. Her hands held the sill as she leaned out, looking in every direction.

  "I see one of their galleys on the horizon. Must be the chieftain himself. The wanker," she huffed. "Sure, they'll be comin' by horse as well. They never give up. Have they any idea who they're dealin’ with?"

  She pushed away from the window, shaking her head and pursing her lips. Then her eyes planted on a black wooden chest, hidden in the shadows of the corner of the room. The arched top of the square crate and weathered leather accents added to my curiosity as my eyes widened in wonder.

  She glided to it and dropped to her knees. Working the leather straps of the latch, she pushed the lid up with a massive creak. I tip toed behind her and gazed over her shoulder for a look into the mysterious vessel.

  She lowered the cover in response to my proximity, hiding the contents from my view. She looked up at me with raised eyebrows.

  "I've some things here that might be of assistance,” she said as her eyebrows crunched together in doubt.

  “Show me. I can keep a secret.” My voice quivered as I bent for a better look.

  She reached in and pulled out a long, narrow item and closed the lid of the chest with a quick thump.

  In an instant, she was back at the window, holding the piece up to her eye, adjusting it.

  I watched her extend the mid-section and turn the lens at the end of the telescope to help focus it. She leaned further out the window to improve her view of the approaching galley.

  Something seemed off though.

  “Aye! The flags up. It’s MacMahuna, sure. No question.” She mumbled as she leaned out the window for the best view.

  I watched her adept use of the tool and her changing expression as she saw more detail of her encroaching enemy. I blinked as my head tipped and eyebrows scrunched together.

  I stared at the telescope. It stood out from everything else in the room, as if it was in high pixel HD in a black and white movie. The sleek mechanisms were constructed in a clean, streamlined structure and the glass lens was thick and ocular, like a high resolution camera lens back home.

  The telescope didn't fit its medieval surroundings.

  Every other tool or weapon I’d seen had hand-made craftsmanship of materials that were immediately identifiable; leather, iron, wood. But the telescope was different. It was manufactured to a level I was more familiar with — flawless shiny black tubing, bright silver metal details and a modern lens.

  "Where did you get that?" I blurted out.

  Grania flinched like I'd electrocuted her and she pulled in from the window, instinctively moving the telescope into her cloak, out of my view.

  "'Twas a gift. From a dear friend," she said, avoiding eye contact.

  She leaned out the window again and brought it back to her eye, as if too busy to engage in a discussion about it.

  "But it's... it's..." I searched for the right words.

  Grania lowered the telescope and pulled back into the room again. "It's what?" she asked with a tip of her head. "Modern?"

  Her tone held disdain and one eye squinted, like I was treading where I shouldn't.

  "Well, yeah," I added, sticking my eyes to the floor.

  Rushing footsteps pounded up the spiral stairs and Hugh burst into the room.

  "Grania. Thank Christ." His eyes shot wide with concern. "Our men have seen the MacMahunas across the hills. They'll be upon us shortly."

  She moved across the room to him and reached for his arms. He held her wrists and looked straight into her eyes as she spoke.

  "We will resist their pressure and deny their requests. We hold the power of the land and sea and no man will take that from me," she commanded.

  Hugh nodded and held her tighter. "I’m with you, my queen. I will fight for you and protect Rockfleet with my life." His eyes blazed into her soul.

  Grania held his gaze, searching deep within him, as they became lost in each other. They stood taller together, breathing as one. Something new grew between them, bonding them as a true force of resistance and power.

  Of love.

  She nodded, accepting his allegiance and his heart.

  In a flash, they left the room, flying down the levels of the castle to rally the clan for defense. I stared after them, feeling the new energy from their union. Their strength and force in each other. But I couldn't shake the feeling that such strength could also be their greatest weakness.

  My eyes moved to the elusive telescope as an ominous feeling of foreboding covered me with darkness.

  Voices within the castle grew to a new level of focus and command as footsteps quickened and metal clashed and clanged. The entire clan prepared for invasion, inside and out. I stepped to the wide window of Grania's chamber and leaned out, following her form, along with Hugh, checking on the progress and level of readiness of her clan. Everyone scurried about preparing — weapons, shields, food stores.

  My eyes pulled back to the telescope.

  It had been dropped on the top of the chest in her haste and it stared back at me through its opalescent lens, swirling its mystery through purple and blue depths.

  My brows tightened together as my head tilted in confusion. How did she have such an object? If it weren't for my history class, and Mr. Rabin, the true history buff, I wouldn’t have noticed the oddity. But, somehow, it was burned into my mind that Galileo invented the first telescope at least a hundred years from now.

  My hand pressed on my tight brow as my heart rate accelerated. I moved closer to the chest and picked up the telescope. Its solid weight balanced in my hand as I stared at it. My eyes twitched back to the chest as if it nudged me for my attention. It held more secrets and beckoned me to look inside.

  Scanning the room first, I pulled open the lid of the chest to see what other mysterious treasures might lay within. The pounding of my heart in my ears muffled everything around me as I focused on the array of contents in the crate.

  Blinded with the flash of gem stones and sparkling metals, my eyes blinked in astonishment. Jewels and coins of every color filled the box to the brim, but on the side... that was where my eyes fell.

  Another oddity.

  It stood out of place from the other contents: a photograph. Black and white.

  My breathing stopped as my blood pressure plummeted. There was no way. No way a camera existed in this time. Photography did not exist yet. Painted portraits, yes. Photographs? No.

  I looked back over my shoulder toward the entry, expecting Grania to burst through at any moment. It remained silent and empty. My gaze returned to the chest and I reached for the photograph. A courtyard. Within high walls of a stark, gray building.

  A nun. Wearing a full-length white dress and overcoat, and a long habit framing her stern scowl.

  Girls in frocks, like aproned dresses. Pageboy haircuts.

  Lifeless faces. Blank stares.

  Sheets hanging from laundry lines all around them.

  My lips pressed together as I tried to place the photograph’s location and tim
e period. The forties or fifties maybe? I couldn’t be sure, but compared to Grania's time, it was way closer in history to me than her.

  I studied the faces in the picture. Strangers. My lips pursed to the side. I tucked it back into its place in the chest and closed the box. The telescope went back on top, just as Grania left it, and I stepped back from the chest as if it might explode.

  It was a time capsule. But it held secrets of the future, instead of the past.

  I moved away from it more, keeping my eyes on it. The contents of the chest sent fear through me. It was all so real. It wasn’t a vision or a dream. I was here. In the past. And it was all connected to the future.

  A skirmish of raised voices outside pulled my attention back to the big window and I spun around and peered out. The MacMahuna Clan closed in around the entrance to Rockfleet. Their galley was anchored out in Clew Bay and smaller boats had been rowed to the shore. Horses lined the perimeter of the grounds and men outnumbered them three-fold.

  The MacMahuna chieftain sat upon the largest horse with a fierce expression twisted on his unfeeling face as he scanned the castle land for Grania. The Umhaille Clan held strong with a line of swords and solid defense, holding the MacMahunas from getting too close.

  My eyes darted around, searching for Grania and Hugh. Before I could find them, my feet pulled me from the window as I grabbed my sword and tore down the spiral stairs. Blasting through the black door, my senses filled with tension and danger as the air became brittle as thin ice.

  The stand-off teetered on a fine point, hovering on every word, every glance.

  Battle waited anxiously for her prompt.

  "Umhaille!" The MacMahuna clan leader bellowed. "You've had yer last warning. Sir Bingham himself has agreed to pay ye a visit. Yer days of rule are numbered."

  I pressed my hands against my ears to stop the scratching sound of his piercing voice from making me go insane. Agitated wind off the sea and blasting mist added to the tension and aggression.

  Squinting my eyes to shield from the threatening assault, I tore out along the edge of the castle and turned the corner to hide around back, for a safe vantage point.

  I searched for Grania’s blue cloak in the sea of brown and black leathers and coats. The solid shelter of the broad stronghold muffled the sounds of MacMahuna’s evil shouts and blocked the relentless wind and blasting mist off the sea.

  My hair settled down around my shoulders as I caught my breath and pushed the random strands out of my face. I dropped my hands to my knees and closed my eyes. Visions of the contents of the treasure chest flashed under my lids.

  Then I pictured Grania and Hugh facing the violent MacMahuna warrior, and my eyes flew open.

  "Howya Maeve.”

  I stumbled back.

  “Ya see a ghost or somethin?"

  And my vision filled with every inch of Rí.

  His heavy boots and strong legs. His leathers. His vest tied tight and heavy sword hanging by his side. His boyish grin and distracting dimples. The twinkle in his eye.

  Rí stood in front of me, panting. Sweat beads glistened across his brow as he leaned toward me. "Fancy meetin' you here?" He snickered.

  I pulled my eyes away from him and looked at the cart full of hay bales. Rí's hands were red from hoisting the heavy bales onto the cart and he was out of breath from the exertion of it.

  "What are you doing? The MacMahunas are here! Can't you hear them?" I gasped.

  I searched him for an emotional reaction to the confrontation at the front of the castle. His position on the attack was not as clear as I was sure mine was. My eyes bugged out of my head and my heart rate pounded in my ears.

  “I hear it. Enough to drive me outta me own mind." He looked up the hills at the open expanse. "Christ, it's all I ever hear." He turned back toward the threatening voices. “Not the first time, as ya know, and sure, won’t be the last. You must be tired of it as well, no?” He rubbed the back of his neck and his eyes searched mine.

  My head shook as I soaked in his calm position of the situation. Maybe it wasn’t as bad as I thought. Maybe this was a regular occurrence.

  "Come on. Let's move away from it. To the hills." He pointed into the green expanse behind us.

  My eyes squinted. "What? No. I'm not leaving Grania. She may need me."

  He laughed. "Sure, Grania needs no one. And plus, she’s not here." He looked at me like I should’ve known that. "Sure, she's fooled him again. Taken to the sea. That's where her power is." He sniggered and reached out for my hand. "Come on. Let's leave him to his wailing and belly achin'."

  I looked into his bright emerald green eyes, wondering if the color could truly exist in this world, and felt an undeniable urge to trust him. To flee from the booming voice of our enemy and take flight to a place of peace.

  I reached for his hand and his amber curls shook over his forehead as he gazed at me in surprise.

  "Ruddy!" A voice called from the front of the castle.

  Rí's eyes widened and he turned the other way, assessing the land behind us.

  "Let's go!" And he tightened his grip on my hand and pulled me along across the muddy way and out onto the lush green expanse.

  We panted our way up a steep hill as Rockfleet and all its commotion shrank into the landscape behind us. As the distance grew larger, I questioned my decision of going with him. But, somehow, I trusted him. Like I'd known him my entire life. My ridiculous nerves that normally rendered me mute when I was near a cute boy were non-existent. The inability to speak hadn't taken over. I was comfortable with Rí. With myself.

  I slowed and watched him.

  He continued to move up the hill, without a hint of fatigue, as if escaping from something. Placing space between himself and something else... or someone else.

  I stopped and observed his exodus. "What are you running from?" The words left my mouth before I could censor them.

  He stopped short and kept his gaze forward.

  Regret filled me and I bit my bottom lip. Seconds felt like hours.

  He rubbed his chin and turned to me. "Me da." His tone fell flat and lifeless.

  "What?" My head shook in confusion.

  "M' father." He paused and looked back toward Rockfleet.

  My chin lifted as I waited for more.

  "Sometimes I just need to get away from him. From his controlling pressure.” He pushed his hair off his forehead. “Do you ever feel that way with Grania?”

  My eyebrows shot up. “No. Never.”

  His lips pulled to one side and he inhaled deeply. “Well, that’s good for you. No worries then.” His sarcasm smacked me in the face.

  “What? That’s a bad thing?” I spat back with a curt tone.

  “No.” He stepped closer as his shoulders lowered back to normal. “It’s not. It’s a good thing.” He glanced back at the castle and pressed his lips together. “I just get tired of all the pressure, all the time. Why can’t he just relax for once?”

  I thought back to my grandparents and their high expectations of me for good grades, a name-brand college, the entire hamster wheel, and nodded my head. “Yeah. I actually know what you mean. When someone else is dictating your life to you. When it’s not at all what you want.”

  “Exactly!” His eyes widened. “Me da has me followin' him around every minute of the day. I've got no freedom, ya see. No chance to find my own way. It's maddening." He spat on the ground in disdain. "I want to be able to do what I want to do for a change. You know?"

  My jaw fell open. "Yeah. I know." I nodded. "I mean... I want to be able to follow my own path too."

  "Exactly. That's it." He shook his head. "He's placin' all this responsibility onto me. Expecting me to carry forth the plan, and all. But, sure, what if I don't want it? What if I don't agree with it?"

  My eyebrows scrunched from the weight of his words. "What does he want from you?"

  Rí kicked his boot across the patchwork of a lichen-stained stone. I moved closer to him, studying his facia
l expressions as they moved from pinched annoyance to shaking frustration.

  He was still a boy. I caught a glimpse of his insecurity beneath his cocky arrogance, hiding behind his innocent eyes.

  I climbed onto a rock and jumped from one to the other, making my way around a ring of moss-covered boulders. The circle of strategically placed rocks lined a depression in the ground, full of piles of smaller stones. Bowling ball sized, mostly. Some split or shattered.

  "What's this?" I asked as I squatted and leaned in for a better look.

  "Huh?" Rí's chin pulled in.

  My eyes widened at my foolish ignorance as I waited for him to call my bluff. There were too many things I was unfamiliar with and he might notice.

  "Sure, it's the fulachtaí fia." He scratched his head and studied my face. "Where'd ya think yer beer came from? The heavens?"

  I smiled and shook my head. "I know that!" I rolled my eyes. "I mean, that." I pointed to a random piece of metal sticking out from the stones. The perfect distraction from my true ignorance.

  Rí stepped into the pit and moved some stones to uncover the metal rod and pulled it out. "Probably for stirring the rocks. To get them to the perfect temperature for the yeast. Ya know. To turn it to sugar." He smacked his lips. "Love that beer..." He gazed into the sky with love-struck eyes.

  I looked back down toward Rockfleet, wondering where Grania and Hugh were. If they were okay.

  The MacMahunas continued to linger at the perimeter and seemed to be quite content in staying there. But if Grania was on the sea, she was in her place of power, probably pillaging his galley.

  "I wish they would go away." I spoke into the salty breeze.

  Rí hopped over the stones and stood by my side, looking down at the unsettling scene. "Me too."

  He turned to me and studied my features, soaking me in, and stared into my eyes, straight to my soul. My hair blew across my face as I looked back into his eyes. I felt like I was home.

  A warm feeling brewed in me and sent tingles to my toes and fingers. My shoulders relaxed as I felt safer from the skirmish below. He reached for my hair and moved it from my face, pushing it back behind my shoulder.