Cutthroat Crusades (The Plundered Chronicles Book 4)

by Alex Westmore

  Tavish ran his hand over his face. “Lake it is then. I’ll leave shortly and I’ll spread the word to enna glaigh I come across. If they come to help before I get Lake, accept it. Do not act all proud and decline enna help.”

  “I won’t. I swear.”

  Gillian held her hand up. “Perhaps I can help as well. There is a finding ritual I can perform that will enable me to cast my thoughts outwards to other healers. Tavish, would you be so kind as to stoke the fire as high as you can before you leave?”

  Tavish nodded. “I can.” To Quinn he said, “Ya aged this old man twenty years, Callaghan. Death is a funny thing. I never considered livin’ this life without ya . . . never occurred to me I might outlive ya.”

  “Don’t worry, old friend, that isn’t going to happen.”

  “Good. See to it that it doesn’t.”

  When Tavish was gone, Gillian leaned closer to Quinn. “That man loves you so more deeply than one would ever imagine.”

  “He is a good man.”

  “He also trusts you not to do anything foolish. That is a trust misplaced, isn’t it?”

  Quinn didn’t answer.

  She didn’t need to.

  After she’d thanked Gillian for all of her help, Quinn fashioned a cane and headed off in the direction Tavish said they’d come.

  Walking through the logs and marshes was far harder than Quinn thought it would be. Even using a simple cane didn’t keep the shooting pains at bay. Her side was throbbing slightly, but it was not hot like Gillian feared. It was just slower moving than she wished, but every instinct she possessed told her she was getting closer.

  She couldn’t think about Evan or what might have transpired already. Maybe the Reivers hadn’t discovered her true nature. Maybe she escaped. Maybe, maybe, maybe.

  If she’d been found out . . .

  Quinn couldn’t think of that either, so she focused on putting one foot in front of the other and pondered about the mutiny she’d perpetrated.

  Mutiny.

  The word was poison on her tongue, but she could not deny it for what it was. She had sealed the fate of those on the Malendroke who had left with her.

  And her heart broke for it.

  The crew with her were the most loyal men she’d ever met, yet even they could see how Grace was unraveling before their eyes. It was bad enough she went up the Thames to make a deal with the devil, but to then renege on that deal the very next day? That bordered on insanity. It weakened Grace in the eyes of the crew. It weakened her in general.

  Even though their trip up the Thames had been successful, Grace seemed determined to destroy the goodwill Elizabeth had shown her.

  Maybe it really was time for them to part ways. Maybe it was a natural progression of the state of pirate affairs. Whatever the case, her fate with Grace was sealed, and it saddened her greatly.

  She’d learned a great deal from the pirate queen in their time together. Was it enough for her to captain her own ship? While the men seemed to think so, Quinn wasn’t at all sure. There was so much more to captaining a ship than just knowing how to sail. She needed to know the weather, the ocean currents, the tonnage capacity of a ship’s hull. She needed to hire a crew, feed a crew, and pay them as well.

  What she did have over other captains was fluency in several languages, an understanding of geography, and men who would eat hot coals to protect each other. They were the reason she had to accept a captain’s role. They’d come with her. They’d fought beside her, and at the end of the day, they were her family.

  If they wanted her to lead, then lead she would do.

  If she lived long enough.

  As she continued to pick her way through the lowlands, Quinn felt her energy wane. Her wound was beginning to heat up again.

  Sitting with her back against a tree, Quinn closed her eyes and tried not to think of Evan. Not to think of Grace. Not to wonder about Fiona. Not to miss Becca. Not to . . .

  Just as she started to fall asleep, she heard horse’s hooves slowly making their way toward her.

  Unsheathing the sword Tavish had kindly picked up for her when he’d rescued her, Quinn rose to her feet, sword in front of her. She could barely hold it out in front of her without feeling the pull of the stitching.

  To her relief, it was Gillian.

  “I believe you might need assistance. If we can get you on the back of this mare without incident, I can take you where you wish to go. I have seen where it is and . . . well, you ought to be prepared for the worst.” She slid off the horse and whispered in its ear before turning back to Quinn.

  Quinn lowered her sword, the weight of it almost more than she could bear. “Thank you. This was . . . much harder than I thought it would be. Did you . . . Did you see . . . ”

  “There were three women there, yes.” Gillian’s face said words she didn’t need to, but Quinn needed those words. She needed the truth.

  The unspoken words were daggers in Quinn’s heart. “And?”

  Gillian took Quinn’s free hand in hers. “And you must understand that your friend may never again be the same person after such . . . well, after such treatment.”

  Quinn felt dizzy and the world around swam before her. “Oh, god. No.”

  “You must prepare yourself, Callaghan. I am afraid you are not ready for what you will see, and you cannot allow it to settle in your heart. It will destroy you.”

  Releasing Gillian’s hand, Quinn rose. “Get me on the back of your horse. Please.”

  After finding a fallen tree she could use as a boost, Quinn and Gilian managed to get Quinn on the back of the grey mare.

  “I will take you as far as I safely can, Callaghan, and then I shall wait for you in the event you need a healer straight away. I brought my ingredients and potions, but I fear I cannot heal the damage to her spirit. Only time and the goddess can do that.”

  Leaning into Gillian’s soft body, Quinn sighed heavily, her heart shattering as she pushed aside images of what they’d done to Evan. She owed Evan her life once again, only this time, it may very well have cost Evan something she could not get back.

  Not long after she mounted the horse, Quinn discovered that Gillian had been correct.

  Quinn was not even remotely prepared for what she saw when she snuck up to the Reiver camp.

  And she found it terribly difficult to vomit silently as she turned away from the scene of the grossest debauchery she’d ever witnessed. The Reivers who were not sodomizing or raping Evan and the other two women were rolling dice and drinking by the fire waiting for their turn.

  Quinn’s own fire burned within her as she watched Evan surrender to the second man who mounted her like some rutting pig.

  As much as she knew going in was a crazy thing to do, Quinn could not stand by doing nothing. She no longer cared about her own safety. She could not stand in the shadows and watch such horrors happening to the woman who had saved her, to the woman she loved.

  Slowly pulling out her sword, she took several deep breaths and prepared to attack the men at the fire first. If she could take the drunks out before they knew what was happening, she might stand a chance at saving Evan and the other women.

  A chance was all she needed.

  Her side was beginning to throb hard, but she could not let that stop her. Could not. Would not. The bloodlust in her veins made it easier to ignore her own pain. She had to get Evan out of this.

  As she gripped the sword in both sweating hands, Quinn took one step toward the camp before a hand went around her mouth and she was pulled backwards.

  “Don’t fight us, Callaghan of the O’Malley clan,” came a young voice in Scottish. “Yer friend, Tavish sent us.”

  Quinn stopped struggling and then faced the young man whose hand grabbed her. “Galloglaigh?”

  He shook his head. “Laoch cuidich. We were headin’ to the border to help with the Reivers when he came upon us. Our warriors ken Lake and respect him mightily, so they sent us to help get his laoch cuidich away from them.
”

  Quinn counted nearly twenty laoch cuidich in the group. All were armed with pikes and broadswords, the weapons of choice for most galloglaigh.

  They were armed, yes, but could they fight?

  Evan could. Quinn had seen it.

  Some of the others in Lake’s clan could, but could these young pups?

  “We doona have much time, Callaghan. There are Reivers makin’ their way back to this camp. If we want the advantage, we must strike now.”

  Quinn nodded. Her pain, if it persisted, could no longer be felt. Nothing mattered to her at this moment but to get to Evan. “Aye. You take care of those men near the fire. Send men to each of the women prisoners, but leave the farthest one to me.”

  The laoch nodded. “Even though yer injured?” He jutted his chin out at her wound. “That doesna look so good.”

  “I’ll be fine. I may need help getting her to a horse, though, but his death is going to be at my hands. Is that clear?”

  The laoch cuidich nodded. “Aye. We’ll send Seanie with ya.”

  Seanie lumbered over. He was an enormous hulk of a man––thick like Tavish, but nearly a foot taller.

  “You’re a cuidich and not a warrior?” Quinn asked.

  “Canna see outta me right eye.”

  Quinn nodded. “As long as you can carry her out of here, I couldn’t care less if you were blind.”

  “Strong like an ox,” he said, grinning, pounding his chest once with a huge fist.

  “Everyone ready?” Quinn asked, raising her sword.

  She wasn’t sure what she expected, but she hadn’t expected the laoch cuidich to make such a stealthy approach.

  No yelling.

  No war calls.

  Just a very quiet slitting of throats and pikes through the neck. When there were fewer and fewer drunks still alive near the fire, Quinn followed Seanie and made her way toward Evan who laid face down with the same fat, sweaty Reiver grunting over her. She lay with her eyes closed and tears running down her bruised face.

  It broke Quinn’s heart and stoked the flames of anger burning in her veins.

  Quinn came up behind the Reiver, grabbed him by the shoulders and ripped him away from her. When he fell to the ground on his back, dick in the air. Quinn reached out with lightning fast hands and grabbed his cock.

  “You won’t be needing this ever again, you fucking fat bastard,” she growled, slicing it off at the base.

  The man howled and reached down protectively, blood streaming through his fingers.

  “You do not deserve an easy death. As you took pieces of her spirit, so to will I take pieces of you.” Quinn turned to Seanie. “Tie him to that tree over there. I’ll take care of the rest.”

  Nodding, Seanie grabbed the man by an ankle and dragged him over to the tree where he tied a piece of leather around the Reiver’s stump of a dick before tying him to the tree.

  Quinn swallowed back the bile rising to her throat as she turned her attention to her lover. The smell of cum, blood, and fat sweat hung in the air like a poison. What lay in front of her was almost more than her heart could take.

  Crumpled like a piece of discarded parchment lay Evan. Her eyes were closed and her bare back had what appeared to be bite marks, bruises and scratches.

  Never in her life had Quinn felt such heated rage within her.

  Kneeling down, she took her own vest off and placed it over Evan’s bruised back. “I’m here, my sweet cuidich. You’re safe now.” Quinn lightly caressed Evan’s damp hair and briefly wondered at the damage Lake would dole out when he knew what had happened to her. “I need clothes for Evan,” Quinn barked. Men scattered and began tearing the clothes off of dead men.

  “Put them in that tent so I can get her dressed.”

  The large galloglaigh nodded solemnly as they tossed the clothes into a small tent.

  “Aye, she’s a woman,” Quinn said softly to Seanie, who now stood over them.

  Seanie nodded. “Aye. It is no secret to us. We have kenned a long time.” He held his hand up. “How is not important right now. Evan is family. Our family. Family kens about each other.” Seanie looked over at the Reiver, who was trying to get out of his bonds.

  “Deal with him, but keep him alive.” Gently lifting Evan from the ground, Quinn was amazed at how light she was. Or maybe she felt the raw power and strength of and anger she’d never known but freely welcomed––her own wound feeling like nothing but a scratch now.

  Carrying Evan into the tent, she gently set her on the ground, wincing as she did from seeing the bruises and claw marks dug into Evan’s tender flesh.

  “Oh, my sweet, sweet girl,” Quinn murmured as she dressed Evan. As much as she wanted to wash her and clean her up, there was no time and no telling how many Reivers were on their way back to this camp. “I’m so, so sorry, my love, that it took me so long to reach you, but you’re safe now.”

  Evan did not move, and for a moment Quinn feared she wasn’t even alive.

  Placing her hand on Evan’s chest, Quinn breathed a sigh of relief to feel Evan’s heart beating. “I’m taking you for help, little cuidich. You are going to be fine. I promise.”

  Quinn was not aware of tears rolling down her cheeks.

  “Captain Callaghan,” one of the laoch cuidich said, sticking his head inside the tent. We must be off. Reivers will be returnin’ soon. If ya wish, we can come back at nightfall and––”

  “I would never ask the laoch cuidich to do that.”

  “To take vengeance fer what they done to our own? We may assist the warriors, Captain, but we are fighters in our own right as well. Just say the word.”

  Quinn glanced down at Evan. “Do it, but leave her rapist to me.”

  The young man nodded once. “Consider it done. We will end them all. Seanie will take ya to the best healer in all of Scotland. She’ll see to it––”

  “Gillian?”

  “Och. Aye. Ya ken her?”

  “I do.”

  “Then ya also ken how good she is.”

  Quinn picked Evan up once more. “Aye. That I do. She is nearby, aye?”

  “Aye. Then Seanie and four other’ll get ya safely back there. Leave the rest to us. We shall kill everra last one of them.”

  Quinn nodded, and quite suddenly, the pain in her side erupted like a volcano. She would have dropped Evan to the round had the young man not caught them both in his thick arms.

  “Yer injury is bleedin”,” he said, pointing to the blood seeping through Quinn’s shirt.

  “I’m fine. We need to get her to Gillian.”

  “And yerself as well. Come. I have her.” Holding Evan to him, he walked out of the tent.

  “Does Lake ken?” Quinn asked.

  “About Evan?”

  “Aye.”

  “I do not ken what Lake kens, Seanie said. “But he will see blood if he sees her thusly, and it will not bode well to have him crazed.”

  Quinn followed the young cuidich as he carried Evan to the horses. “I need a moment with our friend tied to the tree.”

  “Make it fast, Callaghan. We do not want to be caught in another fight with Evan.”

  “No worries, Seanie. He has a dance with the devil and I am she.”

  “Laing,” Seanie said. “Keep watch over Evan. I’m goin’ back to camp with Callaghan just in case.”

  Laing nodded. “Make it quick, willya? Who kens how many of those fuckers are comin’ back?”

  “She’s in good hands, Captain,” Seanie said. “Laing is the best rider we have. If he has to ride off with her, I ken where to meet up with him.”

  Quinn felt her legs begin to tremble. “I believe that, Seanie. Thank you. I’ll be right back.”

  Making her way back through the bush, Quinn pulled out one of her throwing knives and knelt in front of the now dickless man. He tried kicking her, so she grabbed a sword and jammed it between his thighs, the tip piercing his left leg. “You’re lucky I don’t have the kind of time I want to really make you suffer
you sack of shite.”

  “Piss . . . off.”

  Quinn cut a piece of his shirt off and crammed it in his mouth. “You’re going to hell screaming into that rag, motherfucker.” She sliced off one of his ears.

  He screamed into the rag.

  “That’s more like it. See, I want your friends to come back and understand what will happen to them any time you touch a woman the way you have.” She sliced off his other ear.

  He screamed again and started to pass out, so she grabbed a goblet full of something and tossed it in his face.

  Whiskey.

  He screamed more.

  “Oh. That must have hurt.” She picked up a bottle and poured it on his stump.

  He screamed again.

  “Yeah . . . I’ll bet that really hurt.” Placing the tip of her knife into his nostril, she slit it open. Blood gushed down onto his lips. “You see, that woman you raped is the the best person in the world, and you . . . you took something from her she didn’t want to give.” Quinn sliced open his other nostril. “If I had time, I would shove this sword here up your arse so you could feel the pain she felt. I would skin you alive so you would know what it’s like to have someone bite your tender flesh. As it is, the only thing I have time for is to make sure you understand what it would be like for someone to destroy your identity.” Reaching between his legs, she grabbed his balls and cut them off. Then she removed the rag and crammed his balls into his screaming mouth. “Don’t worry. You’ll be dead soon enough and the pain will go away. Thank your God I don’t have time, otherwise, this would go on for days.” Rising, Quinn wiped her blade on the rag and tossed it down at him. “Enjoy hell, arsehole.”

  Quinn heard Seanie call for her just as she started back.

  Seanie cut his eyes down to her blood stained shirt and bloodied hands. “Can ya ride, Callaghan? Yer beginnin’ to bleed badly yerself.”

  “It’s his blood, not mine.” Quinn threw her leg over the horse, her side angrily stinging her as she did. “I can ride just fine, Seanie. Lead on.” Pulling her horse alongside Laing’s horse, she reached over and lightly touched Evan’s sweaty hair. “If we’re attacked, do not stay and fight. Get her to safety.”

  Laing nodded. “Aye, but we’ll not be attacked, Callaghan. As we speak, those Reivers returnin’ to camp will soon find themselves lyin’ next to their dead companions. Ya doona treat one of us this way and expect to live.”