The Pirate's Booty (The Plundered Chronicles Book 1)

by Alex Westmore

  The woman’s eyebrows shot up. “Truly? And so you came into my chambers for what possible reason?” Her voice was sultry as she stepped closer. “Were you planning on taking me prisoner, perhaps? Is that it?”

  Quinn wanted to back away but did not. The intrigue of this young woman might be the key she was looking for.

  Reaching out to lightly touch her hair, Quinn smiled softly. “Would you like me to?”

  “I just might like that.”

  “Have you ever been seduced by a woman?”

  One side of her lip curled up. “Oh, I’ve been seduced by many a thing, but not by a pirate, nor by a queen.” The woman curtsied. “Well, Grace O’Malley, if you are indeed the Queen of Connacht, wherever that is, my name is Mary, and I am at your service. Let me see what I can do to help.”

  ***

  Young Mary was true to her word.

  After explaining to Quinn the oddity of Mary Stuart’s four favorite ladies-in-waiting all being named Mary themselves, Quinn’s Mary sent two of the girls to look after the guard that Quinn had knocked out. They were to tell him that the prisoner escaped but that they would keep it a secret if he would continue to watch over the remaining captives. Then Mary locked her door and offered Quinn some wine to calm her nerves.

  “Are my nerves so obvious?” Quinn asked, taking the goblet.

  “Everyone is nervous about meeting her for the first time, and well they should be. She is unlike anyone who walks this planet.”

  Sipping her wine, Quinn inhaled deeply and then blew out a breath. “You are very kind.”

  “Kind? Not really. I am a fool for courageous souls. Besides, you make quite a handsome figure in your pirate’s attire... Oh my, whatever shall I call you? Your Highness? Your Majesty? Your... ”

  “Grace.”

  “Your Grace. Of course.”

  “No, no, just call me Grace.”

  A smile slid across Mary’s face. “Grace. Lovely name for a very lovely lady. I have to say, you do not look like much of a scourge to me.”

  Quinn glanced up from her goblet. “I can when I need to be.”

  “And what about now? Do you need to be one now?”

  Quinn shook her head. “I do not believe I do. You have protected me against the one guard who could have had me beheaded within the hour. Why?”

  Mary sat on the divan next to Quinn, her hands folded in her lap. “You have no idea how boring these castle jaunts of hers are. While she rides, hunts, and games, we’re forced to sit around here bored out of our minds. We all wish she would just remain at court, where our friends and family members are, but she will not do it. She loves her falcons and the fresh air.”

  “Why does she do it?”

  “The jaunts? Our queen is desperately trying to get her people to accept a Catholic monarch, and she believes if they see her, they will do just that. But believe me, it is dull, dull, dull traveling to these tiny little outposts filled with Protestant peasants. You are the most exciting thing to come along in quite some time.” She flashed Quinn a smile. “A female pirate queen? Oh, the stories I could tell.”

  “I do not wish to put you in danger.”

  “I would relish danger at this point, Grace. I am so utterly bored. So,” —she leaned forward— “just why is it you want to see her?”

  Quinn shifted over and whispered, “I have information your queen will wish to hear.”

  “And yet she imprisoned you, yes? You managed to escape from that bloody awful-smelling place.”

  “Her men did not know I was among my crew.”

  “Ah. I see. Well, one would have to look very closely to realize you are a woman... a very handsome woman, Grace.” Mary’s voice fairly purred.

  “The queen sent some of my men out to the port to retrieve me, but if she knew I was here, I am quite certain she would wish to speak with me.”

  Mary rose. “You are fairly fortunate that this is the room you chose to sneak into. I am the favorite of the Marys, and I believe I can get her to listen to your plea. I will ask her if she wishes an audience with the great Grace O’Malley. If she does, I shall send for you.”

  “And if she doesn’t?”

  “Then I can help you escape the castle, but I’m afraid you will have to leave without your men.”

  Quinn reached for her wrist. “I do not wish to cause you any trouble.”

  “Trouble? My Mary and I are the best of friends from childhood. She trusts that I would never do anything to place her in danger.” Mary turned, the smile fading from her lips. “And if you do, I’ll have you drawn and quartered in front of your men before doing the same to each of them.”

  Quinn nodded, somewhat taken aback by the strength of Mary’s convictions. “You will not have to do that. I am not here to hurt anyone. I came to employ some galloglaighs and to warn your queen.”

  Mary hesitated. “Warn her?”

  “Aye. We Irish have no quarrel with the Scots, but with Elizabeth, we have plenty, and she is on the move upon the seas. She is raiding galleons and sending a man named Drake out to fatten her coffers... coffers Elizabeth needs if she is going to come after Scotland.”

  Mary eyed Quinn with suspicion. “Well, that is something I can take to her that would cause her to grant you an audience. I shall see what I can do.”

  Quinn stood. “I would forever be in your debt.”

  Mary smiled. “Indeed you would. Come. I cannot have people wondering what you are doing in my chambers.”

  “Even though I’m a woman?”

  Mary started for the door. “Given my past history, especially because you’re a woman.”

  ***

  Quinn bowed low to Mary, Queen of Scots, who raised an eyebrow upon her entrance. Mary-in-waiting had indeed managed to secure an audience with the queen by telling her she’d found Grace O’Malley lost in the courtyard garden.

  “I expected you to be... taller,” Mary said in Scottish Gaelic before switching languages to Latin. A hint of a smile playing on her lips, Mary rose from her throne as she gazed down at Quinn. “I had heard you were nearly as tall as I.”

  Quinn looked up at the woman standing over her. Mary had a long, swan-like neck, bright auburn hair, perfectly arched eyebrows, and flawless skin.

  She was also as formidable in height as Grace herself.

  “Please, excuse my abode for the moment,” the queen continued. “We’ve only recently arrived and have not had the time to... better manage the estate.”

  Quinn glanced around the room. It was not as large or as ostentatious as Quinn would have expected for a queen of her stature, but the fireplace had a lively fire, and above it hung a portrait she assumed was of Mary’s mother.

  There were windows on both sides of the room, allowing the morning light to stream into the chamber, which was ringed with a dozen guards. At the queen’s feet were three bulky Scottish dogs, all sleeping. Apparently they, too, were bored here.

  Quinn stood erect and greeted the queen in Mary’s native tongue, which seemed to delight the queen, who tossed her head back and laughed. “An Irish pirate fluent in Scottish Gaelic. I am indeed impressed.”

  Quinn silently thanked her father for including her in Patrick’s language lessons. Quinn spoke passable Scottish Gaelic, moderately decent French, and flawless Latin. Her English needed improvement, but she spoke it better than any of the men on the ship. After all of his schooling, Paddy could barely speak Irish well.

  Maybe men truly were dumb.

  “Well met, Grace O’Malley, Queen of Connacht, chieftain of the O’Malley clan and, let’s see... scourge of the high seas, I believe it is.”

  Quinn chuckled. “If long titles mean a whit, then I should rule the world.”

  The queen threw her head back and laughed heartily again. She was nothing at all like Quinn had expected her to be. Warm, charming, and leaning toward light laugher, Mary of Scotland was an enigma that, when unwrapped, was a finely chiseled jewel. “My, my, they said you were sharp, but they underv
alued your speed.”

  “Only my blade is sharp, Your Majesty. I’m afraid the rest of me is a bit dull from lack of sleep. I worry for the crew you have in your care.”

  “Ah yes, that. Why, you must be like a mother hen at times, having to deal with so many robust men. It must be terribly exhausting.”

  “You are too kind with robust. I believe you meant rambunctious, rebellious, and utterly unrefined.”

  Mary laughed again and waved Quinn over. “Oh, how I have missed snappy repartee. Come. Sit.” The queen motioned for another chair that rapidly appeared thanks to Mary-in-waiting. “I get so little fresh conversation. Everyone is a yes man. It grates on one’s nerves.”

  Quinn sat in it and marveled at Mary’s beauty. Her skin was like porcelain, and her long hair shined, but the most beautiful and mesmerizing thing about her were her eyes. Those eyes took in far more than what one could see.

  “You are far more... refined... than most in your seaworthy occupation. I daresay I am somewhat taken aback,” the queen said.

  “I am well-traveled, and to do business with so many different countries, it behooves me to know various languages so as to not fall prey to unscrupulous merchants.”

  “Ah, I see. Wise. Very wise. I myself speak French, Italian, Latin, Spanish, Greek and, of course, my native Scottish Gaelic, but then, I grew up in privileged society where that was expected. I must say your Scottish Gaelic is impressive.”

  Quinn lowered her head. When she raised it, she caught sight of Mary-in-waiting, whose admiration shone from her eyes. “Thank you, kind queen, but it is the most often spoken language of my mother’s people. She bade me to learn it before I could walk. I do her an injustice by not speaking it well. My accent is deplorable.”

  “You speak it well enough.” Mary motioned for another wine goblet. “I suppose we ought to discuss why I took your crew. I apologize for their harsh treatment overnight, but, as you may well know, the French have abandoned me after that horrid uprising. The Spaniards would love to enter England through my back door, and your people seem disinclined to care about anyone outside yourselves. I cannot allow just anyone to land on my shores without knowing their intentions.”

  “Perhaps our disinclination, Your Grace, is because we do not need the intervention of other countries to mend what ails us.”

  “Oh? Your clans are still tearing each other apart. My cousin continues to foist baseless titles upon any man with a coin in his pocket, and you do not believe you require our help?”

  “Clanship is our history––our tradition, much like it was Scotland’s many years ago.”

  The queen appeared amused. “You know of Scottish history then?”

  “Who does not know of Robert the Bruce, Your Majesty? I know enough to know your people fought to keep their ways as well.”

  Mary’s eyes fairly sparkled. “Splendid. You are quite a nice surprise. Do you ride? I do not imagine the back of a horse is a familiar place for a pirate.”

  Quinn smiled. “I’ve been told I am an excellent horseman.”

  To her surprise, Mary clapped. “I do love a good hunt. Perhaps one day I can show you my precious falcons and we can hunt.”

  At that moment, Quinn felt like she was speaking not with a queen but rather with a woman who lacked a friend who was her equal. Clearly, Queen Mary loved to do many things that lay outside of a woman’s typical social graces. “I would enjoy that very much. I understand you are a consummate falconer.”

  Before Mary could answer, there came a ruckus at the door. A bloodied guard, holding his nose, entered the chamber.

  “What is the meaning of such rudeness?” Mary demanded, rising. “There had better be a fine reason for interrupting my visit.”

  “I beg your pardon, Your Majesty, but there is a wild and fierce woman outside claiming to be Captain Grace O’Malley, queen of Connacht, and she demands an audience.”

  “Truly? There is another Grace O’Malley without?” Mary waved him on before turning to Quinn. “Well now, isn’t this an interesting turn of events? And here I thought the countryside to be boring and bereft of entertainment.”

  Fear washed over Quinn like a cold bath as she immediately began sweating. There was no way out of this now.

  “I can explain.”

  Mary held up her hand once more. The sparkle in her eyes was not from anger. It appeared she was rather enjoying this. “Oh no. I’d much rather see how this little drama unfolds.” To the guard, she said, “Show her in. Let’s see which is the real Grace O’Malley.”

  The door opened again and two guards, each holding one of Grace’s arms, struggled with her as they entered. When Grace looked up and saw Quinn, her mouth opened, but nothing came out.

  “This wild woman claims to be Captain O’Malley.”

  “Is she the reason your nose bleeds so, Carter?”

  “Yes, ma’am. She––”

  “Go care for it. I’ll not have your blood on the floor.” Mary motioned for Grace to come forward. When she did, Mary studied her a moment before nodding. “The real Grace O’Malley, I presume?”

  Grace turned her eyes from Quinn to Mary. Quinn started to rise, but Mary motioned for her to remain. “Stay seated.”

  “I am indeed Captain Grace O’Malley,” Grace said in Latin. “Queen of Connacht, chieftain a’ the O’Malley clan––”

  “Scourge of the seas? Yes, so I have heard. A rather long title, is it not?” Mary tilted her head one way, then the other as she studied her. “Why yes, I believe you are she.” Turning to Quinn, she said, “She is, is she not? The real Grace O’Malley?”

  Quinn nodded, her head slightly bowed. “Aye. If I could explain.”

  “Aye,” Grace growled at Quinn. “An explanation ta us all would be a good start.”

  “Isn’t it obvious, Captain O’Malley?” Mary asked. “Young––”

  “Callaghan.”

  “Young Callaghan falsely represented you in an effort to save your imprisoned crew. She escaped from my dungeon, presumed herself upon one of my more easily-tempted young ladies and managed an audience with the Queen of Scotland. Does that sum it up, Callaghan?”

  Quinn nodded. “I only wanted to explain why we were here in the hopes that you would show mercy for men who meant you no harm.”

  The queen slowly stood. As she approached Grace, who was slightly shorter, Mary actually smiled. “The infamous pirate, Grace O’Malley. So good of you to come. While I must say that I have been enjoying your imposter immensely, I believe there is business at hand that you and I ought to converse about. It appears we have a common enemy and that, perhaps, we might be able to assist one another against said rival.”

  Grace barely nodded. “I would verra much appreciate the opportunity ta share with ya what all I have learned this past month on the high seas. I came this mornin’ because ya threatened ta kill my men if I did not. I could more easily negotiate if my men were released and told ta return ta the ship, includin’ Callaghan here, who, fer reasons I can surmise, meant well in his... er... her fraudulent posturin’.”

  Quinn glanced over at young Mary and remembered her words. She had really overreached coming out here as Grace, and now she had not one but two queens unhappy with her.

  “Captain O’Malley, do you suffer your crew to lie to your face?”

  “No ma’am, I most certainly do not.”

  “And if they do?”

  Grace’s eyes softened as she looked at Quinn. “If that lie were told ta save my men or my ship, it would be a forgivable offense. Remember, Yer Majesty, that we pirates live by a far different set a’ rules. Lyin’, cheatin’, or stealin’ in order ta save the ship are all pardonable transgressions.”

  Quinn swallowed hard, her chest swelling with an odd pride to know that Grace would stand up for her even in the face of a bald-faced lie.

  “Then you are a far better queen than I. Loyalty is built on truth, not on lies.” Turning to the guards, Mary said, “Release her men. Tell them anyone not
returning directly to the ship will be immediately put to death. I am merciful, not stupid.” Then she turned to Quinn. “Not you. You are to remain here until I decide your fate.”

  Grace flinched.

  “She may be your crew member, Grace, but she has purposefully lied and mislead the Queen of Scotland. I will need time before I decide what should be done about that.”

  One of the guards scurried from the room.

  Grace opened her mouth to object, but Quinn quickly shook her head. Grace closed her mouth and returned her attention to the queen.

  Mary sat back down but left Grace standing. “There. Now, I assume you’ve come to Scotland in search of galloglaighs for one of your many clan issues. My word, I wish those fighters would fight for Scotland and not for the highest bidder. We would own the known world.”

  “Yes and no. I did not originally come here fer them, but now that I am here, I see little wrong with linin’ the pockets a’ some a’ Scotland’s best. I do not need them fer clan issues. Elizabeth is sendin’ more and more ships up the sea and ta both our shores. One captain in particular––a Francis Drake––is a troublesome young lad tryin’ desperately ta gain favor with his queen. I want––”

  Mary raised her hand. “I have heard of this rogue seaman, Grace O’Malley, and I understand he is a dangerous adversary, indeed.”

  “An adversary I am chasin’ fer ill deeds done ta my ship.”

  Mary nodded. “I can do better than galloglaighs, Grace. You may have two dozen of my own soldiers, and they shall remain with you until I require their return.”

  Grace blinked. “That is incredibly generous, Yer Majesty.”

  “I wish no quarrel with a strong Catholic country such as yours. My cousin clearly seeks to subdue you... something I wish not to do. She has Scotland in her sights as well, and you ought not to wish that. Should she succeed in defeating us, Ireland will be the next in her sights. I give you my men on the condition that should I call on you to repel any water advances by Elizabeth, you will answer.”