Fire in the Hole (The Plundered Chronicles Book 3)

by Alex Westmore

  “Ya didn’t know, did ya?”

  Quinn lifted her head and feigned concern. “What?”

  “About Fiona. Ya didn’t know, did ya?”

  “Why would you say that?”

  Becca’s smile was a sad one. “Because I just said a pink horse just rode in on the back of a three-legged mule, and ya did not reply. I assume I lost ya back at her pregnancy.”

  Inhaling deeper, Quinn closed her eyes. “You are not the only fool in the room, Becca. I kept loving that woman for far longer than I should have.”

  Pulling Quinn closer, Becca hugged her tightly. “Then let’s be fools together, my love, and hope that someday we get it all sorted out.”

  Someday couldn’t come fast enough for Quinn.

  * * *

  After making long, slow, love with Becca, Quinn headed out into the tavern to collect the crew. She knew if she waited until dawn then half would not make it back to the ship on time, so at eleven o’clock, she entered the tavern to find her men in yet another fistfight with the crew of another ship.

  “Step back, laddie,” Tavish said, swinging at a man and knocking him out with one punch, a feat for which he was renowned.

  “Bloody hell, Tavish!”

  “We didna start it,” Tavish said, punching another man in the temple. The man fell to the straw-covered floor as if dropped from the sky.

  “This is ridiculous,” Quinn spat. “Whistle.”

  Tavish looked at her, one eyebrow raised. “Lad?”

  “This is senseless. We need our men healthy, not nursing wounds. Whistle, goddamnit.”

  Tavish stuck his fingers in his mouth and whistled so loudly everyone paused to look up.

  Quinn leapt on a table. “Captain O’Malley’s crew was just leavin’, so cease this ridiculous fightin’ an–”

  Someone chucked a tankard at Quinn, narrowly missing her.

  “Oh hell no,” Tavish cried, jumping back into the battle, which restarted in earnest.

  Quinn understood that pirates loved to fight almost as much as they loved to fuck, and right now this fight was getting out of hand. Already Fitz had a broken nose, Connor’s lip was bleeding, and One Eye had bruises on both cheeks.

  Grace would not be pleased.

  Add to that the cost of the destruction and–

  “Drinks are on me, gentlemen.”

  Everyone immediately ceased fighting.

  Pirates loved fighting and fucking, but free whiskey? This was manna from the heavens. Everyone stopped mid fight to see who it was who had offered.

  “One more punch thrown and the offer is withdrawn.”

  “Holy shite,” Quinn muttered, seeing who the man was.

  It was Fiona’s husband, Robert.

  “Doona worra, laddie. I can get ya outta here.” Tavish started for the side door but stopped when he realized Quinn was not behind him.

  Quinn shook her head. “Too late. He’s lookin’ right at me.”

  “Want me to knock him out?”

  “No! Here he comes. Keep those big, meaty paws to yourself, Tavish.”

  When Robert strode over to Quinn, she steeled herself for whatever was coming. Their last conversation hadn’t gone very well. He had told her it was time for her to move along and out of Fiona’s life. Quinn had done so almost immediately.

  “You there!” Robert yelled above the crowd as he approached her.

  “Aye, sir?” Quinn shot Tavish a look that said back off.

  “Callaghan, right? I am having a home built for my wife and our family, and I was hoping to catch you one of these times the Malendroke docked.”

  Quinn frowned. Although Fiona had often referred to her by “Callaghan” as a nickname, Robert knew her as a noblewoman who came visiting his wife, not as the pirate Kieran Callaghan. Or did he? Had Fiona shared the truth about who Quinn was? Was that her ultimate betrayal as Quinn now faced a man who knew the truth about her identity?

  “Catch me, sir? Fer what purpose?”

  “Times have gotten pretty bad, aye? Look, I know what I asked of you, but there’ve been some altercations lately that have made me... a bit nervous. I know what I said before, but I’d like you to come work for me. I need a head guard—someone I trust, someone the men will listen to and obey—to keep my wife and family safe. I believe you are that... person.”

  Quinn bristled at the last word. It was also so like a man of means to use a word like obey. “I beg yer pardon, sir, but I am no land-lovin’ sentry. I, like my crew here, am a pirate through and through. We parted when the time was right, Robert. We need to remain so.”

  “I understand that, Callaghan, but it is getting as rough on land as it is on the water. You pursue vessels for gold and silver, do you not? I can give you both a comfortable place to sleep at night, and a much”—he cast a judgmental gaze around the tavern—“safer environment.”

  Quinn shook her head. “As much as I appreciate the offer, I’m afraid–”

  “You’ve not yet heard my offer, Kieran Callaghan. I am willing to offer you a great deal of money and a dozen men of your choosing to protect my wife, a woman you were once very attached to. Think about it. The men of your choosing could all start a new life on land. Find women. Settle down. Be safe.”

  “Did Fiona put ya up to this?”

  He was fairly glaring now. “My wife cares too much about you, Callaghan, but I care more about her. If knowing you are safe makes her happier and more settled down, then so be it.”

  An anger from deep within bubbled to the surface of Quinn’s spirit. “My men and I have no desire to settle down,” she said in a clipped tone. “The sea is our home. It is where we are most comfortable. But I thank ya fer yer offer.” With that, Quinn started past Robert but was stopped when his hand shot out and grabbed her arm.

  “I know you care a great deal about my wife, Callaghan, and–”

  “And if ya care aboot yer own safety,” came Tavish’s voice, “ya will release Callaghan before I drop ya where ya stand.”

  Robert let go of Quinn, then turned to Tavish. “You used to be a guard at Blackrock. Tavish McGee, isn’t it? I am curious as to how a Scotsman who once was in the employ of my wife’s family happens to now be on board the same ship as Kieran Callaghan.”

  “Ya and yer curiosity need to back away from Callaghan and the rest of us. He said ‘no’ politely to ya. I am not so inclined.”

  Robert looked from Tavish to Quinn and back again before backing a couple of steps away. “You gentlemen have an opportunity to get off the high seas permanently before your world comes crashing down around you. I’ll let you think on it more, Callaghan, but at the end of the month my home shall be completed and I’ll be hiring for the position I’d rather give to you. My wife and children need to be protected. I apologize if I assumed that was a role you’d prefer over all of this.” Waving his hand in the air, Robert bowed slightly and then returned to a table where his men waited.

  “What the bloody hell was that aboot?” Tavish asked.

  “I could only surmise, Tavish, but one thing we know for sure: Robert has something hidden up his sleeve and is playing a game of his own design.”

  “Well, whatever he’s playin’ at, lad, ya want to steer clear of it. As an English nobleman, he is probably privy to enna plans involvin’ Ireland.”

  “Keep your eyes on him, Tavish.”

  Heading for the door, Tavish said over his shoulder, “Way ahead of ya, laddie. Way ahead of ya.”

  * * *

  Robert knows my identity. He came to the tavern for me–seeking me out in some sort of feigned alliance. Either he truly wants to hire me to keep Fiona happy...

  Or he was testing me.

  At the very least, he was gathering information.

  Twice, he referred to me by my pirate name—even my pirate first name. He wished for me to know he has checked up on me. I wonder if his offer was as disingenuous as he is.

  Oh, how I loathe that man. Not because he is married to Fiona but because
he is an English dandy strutting around my country like he owns it.

  Perhaps, in a way, he does.

  When Tavish returned to the ship, I’d just finished ushering the men who could still walk back to the ship. Luckily, Grace was gone and didn’t have the chance to see how bruised and battered her crew was.

  Small miracles.

  When Tavish finally made it back, he brought with him some very interesting pieces of information about Robert’s more recent activities.

  Apparently, Robert has been meeting often with the new governor, a man sent to facilitate the plantation scheme started by King Henry and continuing with Henry’s bastard daughter, Elizabeth. The bastards confiscate our lands, with the Lord Deputy, Sir Henry Sidney, ever busy at bringing our chieftains to heel to the English crown. Yes, the man may have built better roads, but now with all landholding Englishmen in my country, he seeks to use our backs in order to climb higher on Elizabeth’s ladder.

  Grace is right about what will happen to our beloved country if this plantation system isn’t stopped.

  And Tavish believes Robert is very much a part of the English aristocracy who intends to grab as much land for himself as he can.

  But at what cost?

  Tavish suggested killing him so as to free both Ireland and Fiona from his grasp.

  I forbade it.

  If Robert truly did seek me out, then he knows more about me than I do of him, and that makes him dangerous indeed.

  In the end, it boils down to one question: Whom do I need to protect more?

  Fiona or the crew of the Malendroke?

  That answer is quite simple.

  Fiona has her family. I have mine.

  As long as I live and breathe, I will always love Fiona. But she is not my family. That much is clear. It’s why I left her in the first place.

  If Robert is a threat to my people, then he will be summarily dealt with, and Fiona will have to figure out how to handle widowhood.

  Yes, I love her. Yes, I will protect her. But not at the cost of those men who would surely die for me.

  Suddenly, thanks to the husband of my former lover, my path in life has become much clearer.

  * * *

  “Change in plans, boys,” Grace said as the Malendroke cast off. “While ya all were out cattin’ around, I met with the folks I have who are keepin’ an eye out on our backside, and I have some bad news.”

  Quinn knew she meant bad news for Scotland.

  “Yesterday, Mary of Scotland was captured and taken prisoner by Elizabeth for the murder of her husband, Lord Darnley.”

  The crew was respectfully quiet.

  “They’ve stashed her at Loch Leven Castle. Tavish, what can ya tell us about Loch Leven?”

  Tavish cleared his throat. “It’s on the island of Loch Leven, in the middle of a lake in Scotland. But Captain, that castle is in ruins. Are ya certain yer sources are correct?”

  “Verra.”

  “Then it canna be that well guarded or secure.”

  Quinn knew exactly what Grace’s next move would be.

  “Then that’s where we’re headed. Tavish, ya will take a small group of Scottish Gaelic speakers with ya to rally an army once we land. Then ya will wait fer us to meet up with ya once we free Mary from the island.”

  “It ought not to be verra hard, Captain. She’s on Scottish soil in a ruined castle that sits on an island. Ya oughtta be able to get in, free her and get on yer way.”

  “Excellent.”

  “Captain?” came a voice from the back. “Why do we care? She’s not our queen.”

  The veins in Grace’s neck bulged. Just as she opened her mouth, presumably to bite his head off, Quinn spoke up.

  “Once we’re away, I’ll explain everrathin’ to ya all. Ya gotta trust that Captain O’Malley knows exactly what she’s doin’.”

  The men started grumbling.

  “Shut yer fuckin’ traps!” The voice belonged to Innis, Grace’s second-in-command. “Ennaone who questions the captain’s decision can get off in Scotland and stay off! Doesn’t matter whether ya agree or disagree. We’re gonna free the Scottish queen, and that’s that. If I hear enna of ya scallawags pissin’ about it, I’ll throw ya over meself!”

  “All right, that’s enough,” Grace ordered. “We’re beholden to Mary fer a number of reasons. That oughtta be good enough fer ya all. Now let’s get to work.”

  Quinn watched as the men returned to their places.

  “What’s yer opinion, Callaghan?” Connor asked as they worked the jib.

  “Honestly? The captain would never sit still while another queen is wrongly accused of a deed we’ve committed. We absolutely must lend Mary our aid.”

  Connor nodded. “The men who don’t know do not understand this.”

  “And the fewer who know, the better. We’re doin’ the right thing, and fer once, that is somethin’ I greatly need.”

  Connor stopped and looked at her. “It worries me when ya speak like that, Callaghan. I saw Robert talkin’ with ya and Tavish. Is everrathin’ all right?”

  Quinn paused before blowing out a sigh. “It’s gettin’ there, Connor. Slowly, but surely, it’s gettin’ there.”

  “Meanin’ what?”

  “Meanin’ I can’t say I am surprised that Grace has decided to free Mary of Scotland, but I’ve never seen the crew question her decisions as much as they have over this.” Quinn ducked as Connor swung the jib around. “But then, pirates are not terribly savvy in the political arena, and sometimes they forget that we are Irishmen first and foremost.”

  “Well, most of the crew know nothin’ about our hand in the Darnley affair, and I think it’s best kept that way.”

  “I agree. If this goes well and we free Mary, we might verra well be addin’ the Protestant state to our list of enemies. If it goes poorly, we might verra well add them and Elizabeth to that list.”

  Connor stopped and rubbed his hands on his pants. “If the captain is to succeed without bringin’ the English to our doorstep, she’s gonna have to take the smaller boats ashore and make certain no Gaelic is spoken—only Scottish Gaelic. She already has her hands full with Sir Edward Fitton, that military governor who dogs her. At least Deputy Sidney has let up on the ships since he’s too busy dealin’ with the quarrels between clans.”

  Quinn nodded as she retied her bandana across her forehead. The sun beat heavily upon them. “I fear that these clan issues will further weaken us. Elizabeth’s planters have taken advantage of in-fightin’, and if it continues, we shall disintegrate from the outside in. Perhaps that is Elizabeth’s plan. If so, it is workin’.”

  “Ya know a great deal about politics, Callaghan.”

  “I know enough. As fer Mary, Elizabeth has her on a short leash. Now that Mary has been imprisoned, I fear fer her life. As the only true threat to Elizabeth’s crown, disposin’ of her and placin’ a Protestant ruler on the Scottish throne is a reality we did not wish to see.”

  “See, me? I wonder if Mary is even alive.”

  Quinn nodded. “It would not be beyond Elizabeth’s advisors to kill Mary and then report that she died of typhus or consumption. They are that connivin’. Ennaway, since my Scottish is passable, I fully expect to go ashore with Grace and the others. I can only hope and pray we are not too late.”

  Connor pointed to the boats being lowered into the water. “Looks like we’re about to find out.”

  Not long after, after day bled into darkness, the three small boats quietly landed on Scottish soil on the island of Loch Leven.

  Tavish and two dozen others took a fourth small boat to the mainland in order to secure more men in the event they had to fight.

  All totaled, Grace brought fifty-six men with her to the island. She gathered them around her once the boats were secure.

  “All right, men, here is what we know. Mary is somewhere in the castle, probably not in the dungeon. She is Elizabeth’s kin, after all, and will not be treated like a criminal.”

  �
�Sir, are we plannin’ on fightin’ in the dark?”

  Grace nodded, the light of the half moon playing off her hair. “Aye, but not until tomorrow night. It is just half past seven now, and we have a lot to do before we bloody our swords. Connor, ya and yer crew will survey the exterior of the castle grounds. We need to know how many men guard the perimeter.”

  Connor quietly replied, “Yes, sir.”

  “Fitz, ya and yer men will make sure there is a path to the ship from Kirkcaldy. We are a good thirty miles from the castle and will need to steal boats if we are gonna get there undetected.”

  “Aw, Captain, does that mean horses?”

  Grace ran her hand through her hair. “Fer Callaghan and her six men, aye. The rest of us will have to make it on foot as far as we can in the darkness. We’ll hold up outta sight durin’ light and then make our final push to Kirkcaldy. Tavish says there is a church there. That is where we shall meet. It is at the end of the street overlookin’ the water. Enna questions?”

  The men were silent.

  “At least there won’t be enna horses,” someone muttered.

  The men chuckled nervously.

  “Sir?” Quinn raised her hand.

  “Callaghan, ya and yer men need to make sure we can make it to Kirkcaldy unmolested. Ya find a path, send someone back to lead us through.”

  “Yes, sir, we can do that. We’ll ride through the night. Won’t take us verra long.”

  Grace hesitated. “How can ya ride at night, Callaghan? It is not verra safe.”

  “We’ll be fine, sir.”

  “Keep ’em outta the taverns, Callaghan. We’ll be along before ya know it.”

  “Aye, sir. We’ll look fer ya tomorrow afternoon.”

  “Be careful, Callaghan, and remember... no Gaelic.”

  It didn’t take Quinn and her five men very long to find six horses. It was almost midnight when they rode up to Kirkcaldy.

  “Where are we beddin’ fer the night?” someone asked.

  “Find a barn, a church, ennawhere to get outta this godforsaken mist.” Quinn slid off her horse. “We’ll walk from here on out. I do not wish to attract attention. We’ll settle in the first barn we come to. I want one of us watchin’ the horses. The rest will get some sleep.”