Cutthroat Crusades (The Plundered Chronicles Book 4)

by Alex Westmore

  “Well, Callaghan, to be honest, I wasn’t sure how much longer to wait. Then, when Big Red showed up, I knew we weren’t leavin’ enna time soon.”

  “We set sail in the morning.”

  Innis looked shocked. “Sir? Ya might wish to speak to Big Red first. I believe there’s been . . . well. Ya will need to talk to him.”

  “Very well. Point me in the direction of the camp. I’ll collect Tavish and be on our way.”

  Collecting Tavish wasn’t as easy as it appeared.

  When she reached the small encampment the galloglaigh had set up, Quinn stood on the perimeter and watched as the men drank and shared stories. She recognized many of them as glaigh from Lake’s clan.

  “Where is me laoch cuidich?” a deep voice asked from behind her.

  Lake.

  Slowly turning, Quinn thought she might vomit. She was so very nervous.

  Lake took one look in Quinn’s eyes, and the blood drained from his face. “Did he . . . ”

  “Evan is alive, as far as I know,” Quinn said. Each word felt like splinters on her tongue as they came out.

  “Then why is he not with ya?”

  Lake knew Evan’s true nature, but habit of calling his cuidich a male had set in his way, just as it was for the men who called Quinn and Grace sir.

  Habit.

  Inhaling deeply, Quinn told him the whole sordid tale.

  Lake never moved as she spoke, his face a stone mask.

  For a moment, he was a statue. He did not blink. He did not breath. He just stared at her.

  “Lake, I am very sorry. I––”

  “Ya did all ya could, Callaghan. Those men . . . those beasts . . . are they all dead?”

  Quinn nodded and surrendered her tale of dismemberment and death.

  His lips twitched. “Ya did wisely by his manner of death, Callaghan. Are there enna others?”

  “The Reiver camp near Box Hill might be a good place to start.”

  “No matter. One by one, they will fall to our swords. Thank ya, Callaghan. Fer everrathing.”

  As Lake turned to leave, Quinn touched his wrist. “Aren’t you going to find Evan?”

  Lake frowned as he stared into her eyes. His were harder and colder than any she had ever looked into. “Of course not. If Evan wished to be with us, he would come. He needs something we canna give him. I will honor that. I must request ya do the same.”

  “I don’t think I can just––”

  Lake shoved his face into hers. “It is our way, Callaghan, and I demand ya respect Evan’s wishes and do not go looking fer him.”

  Quinn nodded once. “Very well. I’ve no choice in the matter. I will not risk my crew to hunt one who does not wish to be found, nor will I pursue one who is honor bound to kill those who did her harm.”

  He nodded. “It is fer the best. Ya are wiser than Captain O’Malley ever was.”

  Lake got ten feet away when Quinn called out to him. “Lake?”

  He slowly turned. “Aye?”

  “You will make them pay, aye?”

  The calm façade on his face gave way to his real feelings. “Of that, Callaghan, ya can be certain. If it is another war those bloody English want, they just got one. Rivers will flow with the blood of those Reivers and enna Englishmen we find along the way.”

  With that, he was gone.

  Quinn did not know there were tears in her eyes. She had never known such intense sorrow as she now felt.

  The Reivers had no idea what they had done.

  But Quinn knew.

  “I dunno what ya said to Lake, lad, but the glaigh are packing up and––”

  Quinn threw her arms around Tavish’s neck and cried silently into his neck. It was the first time she had acted like a woman in front of her old friend.

  “Laddie . . . whatever it is . . . ”

  Quinn pulled back slightly and whispered a condensed version of the story. When she finished, Tavish wrapped his arms around her and hugged her tightly to him. “Ya gotta pull yerself together, lad. The crew needs to know ya still have yer wits about ya. They canna have their second captain an emotional mess. They ha’ already had to deal with Grace’s emotions.”

  Pulling away, Quinn wiped her face. “Aye. Yes, you’re right. I know.” She inhaled deeply. “I can pull myself together, old friend. Now . . . did you explain everything to Mary?”

  “Aye. And she asks one more favor of us: to deliver a missive to France.”

  “Not a chance.”

  He held his hand up. “I ken ya wish to be done with Mary and Scotland, but if we don’t help her, Scotland will fall and Ireland will go with it.” Tavish handed her the scroll. “It is just a quick trip.”

  Quinn took the sealed scroll. “Why do I have the feeling you’ll go with or without me?”

  “Because I will. Ya can count on that. Mary believes Elizabeth will be comin’ fer her soon. Only French or Spanish intervention can keep Elizabeth at bay. It may verra well be the last favor she will ever ask of us.”

  Us.

  She and Tavish had been is this in this together since the very beginning. In all that time, he’d never asked anything of her. Ever, and he had never let her down.

  She would not let him down, now, either.

  “We’ll need a better ship . . . one that can fight back.”

  Tavish’s eyes lit up. “I kenned ya wouldna let Mary down, lad.”

  Quinn winced. “It’s not Mary I’m doing this for. I’ll be back before you know it. Be ready to away when I am done.”

  He nodded. “Ya cannot go alone, lad. It is not safe here.”

  “I’ll take Logan as a rower and one of the smaller boats, but I have to go alone, Tavish. I can’t afford to alienate her by sailing right up on her.”

  “Her? I swear to god, lad, ya ken more women than all the crew put together.”

  She chuckled. “While that may be true, this woman isn’t a romantic liaison, my friend.”

  “No? Then what?”

  “Trust me. She is all business and I am going to make her a very nice deal.”

  Four hours down the coast of Scotland, Quinn stood on a pier and waited.

  “I had a feeling I’d be seeing you again.”

  Quinn bowed as she stood in front of Lady Killigrew, privateer, thief, and purveyor of stolen goals.

  “Lady Killigrew.”

  The lady looked over Quinn’s shoulder. “You’ve come with just one man?”

  “Should I not have?”

  Lady Killigrew rewarded her with light laughter. “Please, come in. Can I get you some wine? Whiskey perhaps?”

  Quinn waved her off. “No. Thank you. This is not a social visit, and I do not have much time.”

  She laughed again. “Of course it is. All business is social, but not all social is business. To not understand that is to make a big error in your bargaining position.” She sat down on a divan and motioned for Quinn to do the same. “So what are you here to bargain for, little Irish pirate?”

  “I need a ship.”

  Lady Killigrew’s eyebrows rose. “Oh? Did you not arrive in one?”

  “I did. It is not well equipped to battle.”

  Picking up a wine goblet, Lady Killigrew’s eyes never left Quinn’s face. “Whom are you planning on attacking?”

  “I am not, but I do wish to be able to defend myself and my crew.”

  Lady Killigrew stopped her goblet in mid sip. “Wait. You are not here on behalf of Grace O’Malley?”

  “I am not.”

  The older woman leaned back. “Well, isn’t this interesting? When last we met, you were just a pirate aboard her ship. Now, you come to me as a captain? How very interesting indeed.”

  “Can you help me, then?”

  “A ship is not an easy ticket to procure, especially one with the power to attack.”

  Quinn did what she had seen Grace do on many occasions: she waited Lady Killigrew out.

  “What do you have to offer?” Lady Killigrew asked finally
.

  “What is the price?”

  Lady Killigrew smiled. “You were taught well. What is it worth to you?”

  “For starters, you may have the ship I arrived in and all the goods in the hold.”

  “And what might that be?”

  Quinn grinned. “You’ll have to make the deal. Once you do, you are free to see what is in the chests in the hold of the Fortune Teller.”

  Lady Killigrew leaned forward once more. “Your ship is called the Fortune Teller?”

  “It is.”

  She strummed her fingers on the small table. “Oh, I like that. So you wish for me to gamble my husband’s hard-earned––”

  “There is no husband, Lady Killigrew. There is a man acting as one, but you are no more married to him than I am to the Pope.”

  Lady Killigrew laughed heartily. “Why Captain Callaghan, you continue to surprise me. How ever did you unearth that little tidbit of gossip?”

  “That is not important. Are you up for the challenge? You don’t strike me as a conservative gambler.”

  “No? You think I should roll the dice on the hopes that there is actually something of value in the belly of your ship?”

  “I came here on that very roll of dice, milady. I did not think you would turn me away if I brought you a deal wrapped in a mystery.”

  “It is rather mysterious.” She leaned back. “You are a woman of integrity, Callaghan of the O’Malley clan, and though I will not ask why it is you are now a captain, I will entertain the thought of a trade.”

  Quinn nodded and rose. “That is all I can ask. Thank you for your time . . . which is of the essence.”

  “Stay for dinner. Please. It is the least I can do.”

  “As much as I would love that, I do not feel comfortable leaving my crew to eat rations while I dine well.”

  Lady Killigrew motioned for one of her ladies. “Do tell Cook to prepare a feast for––” She looked at Quinn. “How many men?”

  “At present, I have a skeletal crew of less than three dozen.”

  “Three dozen. Tell him to use the meat from the Portuguese ship we recently brought in.”

  “Yes, milady.” The lady scooted from the room.

  “You did not have to do this, milady.”

  “I am well aware of what I do not have to do, Captain. Tonight, I desire the company of a soon-to-be famous Irish pirate captain. If it requires that I feed her crew in order to have that desire met, then so be it.”

  Quinn smiled at the word her. Though she had never explicitly told Lady Killigrew she was a woman, she always had a hunch that the lady made a living off of being observant.

  Lady Killigrew did not miss this. “When we first met, you did your best to pass as a man. Again, it is not my business why. Now, you come to me more clearly as yourself. Your hair is longer, you use a more feminine voice, perhaps your own, and there is a softness to your mannerisms. I daresay you are much happier.”

  “In some ways, yes.”

  “Please do not be uncomfortable with my familiarity, my dear. You are one of the most interesting people I have ever me, and I have met plenty.”

  “It’s a long story.”

  “And I have time. Perhaps over dinner then?”

  And so it went.

  Dinner consisted of pork, fish, and an assortment of rice and vegetables Lady Killigrew explained came from Turkey by the way of a Portuguese vessel.

  For her part, the lady was witty, thoughtful, bright, and an excellent hostess. After Quinn explained her story, Lady Killigrew peppered her with questions before explaining that Quinn’s nobility would come in handy if she learned how to “soften her pirate edges.”

  “You have all the necessary tools to succeed in the trade business, Callaghan. Do not forget where you came from. That background will serve you well.”

  The food was some of the best she’d had in weeks, the company was delightful, and the crew—her precious yet small crew—was grateful for the meal and ate about like gentlemen.

  Of course, Tavish had threatened them to within an inch of their lives, but still, they managed to maintain an air of dignity.

  They were her men, and she was proud as hell of them. Killers, thieves, womanizers, and drunks—she cared about them all.

  They were family, after all, and when she walked around the room to check in with each one, she would lay her hand on their shoulder and laugh with each one.

  They deserved this.

  When she returned to her seat, Lady Killigrew was grinning. “You inspired the same kind of loyalty as your former captain, and that is no easy feat.”

  “They are good, loyal men.”

  “They are loyal men following the leadership of a good captain. Do not sell yourself short.”

  “I’ll try not to.”

  “Now, about your little mystery. I happen to have a Portuguese ship that is intended to appear a fishing ship, when in fact it is equipped with eight cannons on either side. You will need more than three dozen men to sail her, however.”

  Quinn pushed her meat around on her place. “I was afraid of that. I do not have the luxury of time to go around finding sailors who can also fight. I must head out as soon as day breaks.”

  “Then you do not wish to trade?”

  Quinn glanced up. “On the contrary. I wish very much to trade.”

  “But your men––”

  “Are good enough to get us where we need to go. If you want the Fortune Teller she’s yours. As is everything in the hold.’

  “You’ve truly piqued my interest, and I look forward to seeing what lovely treasures you’ve traded. I will have the ship delivered to you at daybreak. Until then, please enjoy the food and hospitality.”

  And so they did. They ate, drank, and she enjoyed more peace than she had had in a long time.

  When it was finally time to go, Quinn rose and thanked Lady Killigrew for a wonderful time.

  “It will not be the last time we meet, Captain Callaghan. I’ve a feeling our time together is just beginning.”

  At daybreak, Tavish banged on the door to Quinn’s quarters. “Lad, ya need to come see this.”

  Quinn hurriedly dressed and headed to the bow where all of her men peered over the railing.

  “What are we looking––” Quinn stopped in mid-sentence when she saw three dozen or so laoch cuidich standing around Seanie and Laing.

  “I wondered where they’d gone off to,” Tavish whispered from behind her. “I just figured they changed their mind aboot bein’ on the ship.”

  Quinn hurried down the gangplank to where Seanie and Laing stood in waiting. “What is this?”

  “This is as many galloglaigh and laoch cuidich as we could find. All we had to do was mention Lake and his clan, and they gladly joined us.”

  “We canna speak fer their sailin’ skills, mind ya,” Laing said, “but if it’s fighters ya need, ya will find none better.”

  Quinn slapped him on the shoulder. “You’re a good man, and you’re right. We need a crew and you just handed one to me. Thank you.”

  “Don’t expect too much from ’em at first, Captain,” Seanie said. “It may take a while to get their sea legs.”

  Quinn scanned the warriors and their aides and knew that while they were not pirates, they were killers, and she needed killers. “My men can train them how to sail a ship.” Turning to Seanie and Laing, she smiled softly. “Thank you.”

  “The world is upside down, Captain. We got nowhere to go, really.”

  “You could go home, Seanie.”

  Sean and Laing shared a glance before Sean replied. “We doona ken where that will be when this is all over, so the deck of a ship is as good a place to call home as enna fer now.”

  “Then welcome aboard, men.” Quinn stepped aside and waved them up the gangplank.

  When they all had started up the ship, Quinn leaned over and asked Sean, “Which one is the strongest killer?”

  “Strongest?”

  “Which one is mo
st likely to go off half-cocked?” Laing answered. “They called him Daimh.”

  Quinn frowned. “Ox?”

  Laing shrugged.

  Seanie nodded. “Och, aye. Biggest brute of the lot. Can snap a man’s neck with one hand.”

  “Will he follow orders?”

  “Always. Doesna think much on his own.”

  “Well, thank you both.”

  “So we off to France?”

  “That we are, lads. We head out as soon as my guys have double-checked the masts.”

  They pushed off in less than an hour, and the deck was busy with pirates showing warriors what everything was called and how a ship worked.

  “They seem keen to learn,” Quinn remarked from the bow as she watched her men interact with galloglaigh.

  “Ya done good, laddie,” Tavish said softly. “How does it feel to captain yer own ship?”

  With the sea air in her face and the sun at her back, Quinn could not help but smile. “In all honesty, Tavish, it feels . . . natural.”

  “Yer a natural leader, Callaghan. Yer gonna be fine.”

  She tilted her head at him. “Be fine?”

  “Aye. I been with ya long enough to ken when yer worried. What’s on yer mind?”

  “You do know me well, my friend. I just . . . I want to be good at this . . . better than good.”

  “And ya will be. Ya are. These men, our men, would follow ya through the depths of hell. Ya got nothin’ to worry aboot. Get in, get the message out, get back home.”

  Quinn watched the man named Daimh show three pirates how he swung his claymore. The huge sword made a loud whooshing sound as it cut through the air. It actually looked like a small sword in his big hands.

  “He’s—”

  “An ox,” Tavish chuckled. “The man is like five men. He’s gonna come in handy in a fight . . . enna fight.”

  Back in her quarters, Quinn stood over her desk and studied a map held down by two large shells on either side.

  She was a captain.

  The captain of her own ship.

  After seven years on the sea with Grace O’Malley. Quinn Gallagher, now Callaghan, was the leader of Irish pirates and Scottish warriors.

  What would her father say if he could see her now?

  Sadly, she was pretty certain he would not approve in the slightest—and she was just fine with that. This was her life to live, not his, and she would live it as she damn well pleased.