Cutthroat Crusades (The Plundered Chronicles Book 4)

by Alex Westmore

“See you drunk? No. Tavish brought you in here and got your boots off. Besides, they were too drunk themselves.”

  “And Lady Killigrew?”

  Maggie shifted in her chair. “She’s an odd one. Sort of like trying to hold sand. I can see why she is so prolific at dealing with stolen goods. One never really knows where she stands. This morning, she left for business. Seanie followed her to make sure she wasn’t setting a trap of some kind.”

  “Is she?”

  “I suppose we’d already know that by now, aye?”

  Quinn nodded. “I shouldn’t have had so much to drink.”

  Maggie took Quinn’s hand in hers. “My dear, you’ve suffered a great many losses in recent months, not the least of which is your friendship with Grace. Give yourself a moment to let your walls down, Callaghan. You’re hurting, to be sure.”

  Grace.

  Quinn never imagined they would be on opposite ends of the sword, but Grace had changed. A great deal.

  So had Quinn.

  These rapscallions were not just crew members on board her pirate ship. No, they were much more than that. They were family.

  Her family.

  And if Grace wasn’t going to protect them, by god, she would.

  “Grace made her choices,” Quinn said, motioning to one of the servants. “And if I made mine again, I’d make the same decision under the circumstances.”

  “Well then. There you have it. These men? They’d give their life for you, and they know you’d do the same for them. Rest assured, they’d have a keen eye out for Evan.”

  Quinn’s head whipped around. “Did Lake say something?”

  “Not him. I overheard is few of the cuidich mention it. They’ve not forgotten their kin, my dear. You have to trust that.”

  When the servant came over, Quinn asked for bread and porridge.

  “So, what now, Captain?” Maggie asked. “Now that you’ve managed to skirt around Grace’s anger, where will you go next?”

  “If they cannot save Mary, Scotland will fall. Ireland will need all her people to come together if we are to stave Elizabeth off.”

  “Then back to Ireland with you?”

  Quinn thought about lying for a brief moment before shaking her head. “No. I am not leaving here without Evan.”

  Maggie’s eyebrows shot up.

  “I won’t do what Grace did. I will not risk the men on my own personal search.”

  “They’ll not likely leave without you.”

  Quinn nodded. “I realize that, they will.”

  The servant girl smiled at Quinn as she set the porridge down.

  “You have a plan then?”

  “A plan?” Quinn grinned. “Something like that.”

  After inspecting the ship, Quinn addressed the entire crew on the deck.

  “It is time, lads, for us to return to Ireland.”

  The crew cheered. Quinn let them go at it until it died down.

  “Whether or not Tavish and the glaigh can save Queen Mary is a moot point. This is not our fight any longer, and its time you all went home to see your families and wenches.”

  More cheering.

  One Eye waited for the cheers to abate before asking, “Ya all, Captain?”

  Quinn nodded. “Lady Killigrew and I have some business to attend that could take weeks. I’ll not keep you here while that happens. You are to sail home under Fitz and One Eye’s command. When my business has concluded, I will join you.

  The deck was eerily quiet.

  “I hate to ask such a ridiculous question, Captain, but where, exactly, is home? Ya can’t mean Galway.”

  Shaking her head, Quinn inhaled deeply. “I do not. While I do not have anything as fancy as a castle like Captain O’Malley. I do have an estate not far from Dublin. You’re all welcome to call it home.”

  The men looked around at each other, confused.

  “A year or so after joining you rascals, I bought a manor in disrepair. Well, it is no longer in disrepair and is now in need of a family to fill it. For better or worse, you are all my family.”

  Slight chuckles.

  “Captain? Are ya sayin’ we can live there?”

  “Live, drink, sleep, eat, all of it, aye. I know it’s a bit far from Galway, but we don’t need to be running into the Malendroke every time we want to go home. You will have plenty of time to get to Galway by land if you have to.” Quinn hesitated and scanned the crew. She could not get a read on any of them.

  “Does this manor have a name?” one of the men from the back asked.

  “Aye it does. She’s called Sea Urchin.”

  The men rejoiced at the name.

  “Are there any more questions, lads? You’ll have good food, average ale, and superb relations with the many fine women coming to and from Dublin. What more could you ask for?”

  Quinn watched as the men hung their arms around each other’s shoulders and continued to cheer.

  When the cheering finally died down, she finished. “Fitz will be in charge unless and until Innis manages to find is way free of the Mal. Take the week off. Get to know your surroundings. Find any weaknesses around the manor and fix ’em. Treat it like a fortress. We’re gonna need a secure place on land to rest our heads. Make it secure. Make it home. I’ll be back in a week’s time to see to it you’ve done what I told you to do.”

  When the men finally dispersed. One Eye ambled over to the bottom of the steps and looked up at Quinn with his one good eye. “A week, ya say?”

  She nodded.

  “And what’ll ya have us do if yer not back by week’s end?”

  Quinn did not look away. “Get them back on the water and plunder some hapless ship. Just stay away from England and from Grace.”

  One Eye ran his hand over his stubble. “Aye that, Callaghan. It’ll take Grace a long time to get over our betrayal.”

  “She may never.”

  He blew out a breath. “Takin’ Innis like that says a lot about her state of mind, Callaghan I’m afraid she’s not done with ya . . . with us.”

  Quinn looked out at the sea. “Aye. On that, I couldn’t agree more.”

  Watching the Emerald pull away with her crew on board was much harder than Quinn thought it would be. It was like watching her house float away with all of her family on board.

  “You love them,” Maggie said quietly from beside her.

  “More than I care to, aye. Bag of dicks, they are.”

  Maggie chuckled. “That they are, but they’re your dicks now, my dear, and to a man, they would––” Maggie’s sentence was cut short as a rider came in hard.

  It was Seanie, and he was riding his frothing mount into the ground. “Thank the goddess!” Seanie yelled, slowing his steed to an abrupt halt before jumping off.

  Quinn and Maggie exchanged glances.

  “I thought I mighta missed ya.” Striding up to Quinn, he bowed slightly to Maggie.

  “Maggie tells me you followed the lady?”

  “Aye, though my dark thoughts were not in line with hers.”

  “Tell me.”

  Seanie wiped mud off his face before replying. “Lady Killigrew received word this morning that a ghost glaigh was killing the Englishmen at the border encampments.”

  Quinn’ s stomach jumped. “Ghost glaigh?”

  He nodded once. “Aye. It is what we call a lone warrior who attacks the enemy from within the shadows.”

  “And you think––”

  “It’s possibly Evan, aye. The scout only said that the glaigh was small and quick. If it’s not him, I don’t ken who it would be.”

  Quinn’s heart raced. “Where is Lady Killigrew now?”

  “She has business in the town center and bade me to ride hard to let ya ken. We have naught to fear from her.”

  Maggie grabbed Quinn’s arm. “You cannot just run off without help, my dear. Can you not wait for Tavish and the others to get back?”

  “She is not alone, missus. Laing is right behind me. We’ll accompany her to the bo
rder.”

  “And then what? The three of you are going to take on Border Reivers?”

  Quinn studied Seanie a moment before shaking her head. “No, Maggie. The three of us are not . . . but Quinn Gallagher and her two man servants will.”

  Maggie frown lifted. “Oh, I see.”

  Quinn smiled. “Do you? Because in less than half an hour, we’ll be leaving you to tell the lady where we went and thank her for her hospitality. Then we are off.”

  “And Tavish? What should I tell my husband when he returns?”

  Quinn put her hands on Maggie’s shoulders. “You’ll not need to tell him anything, my friend. He’ll already know by the look in your eyes that you could not stop me.”

  “Nor would he have expected me, to. Very well then. Let’s get you dressed into that gown you so hate. Seanie? You and Laing will have to root around in that cellar of hers and see if you can find some of those nice English clothes.”

  “Aye. I’ll ride back to see what’s keepin’ Laing.”

  When Seanie was gone, Maggie pulled Quinn closer. “I wish there were an easier way to say this, my dear, but there isn’t, so I’ll just say it. You are risking your life and those boys’ lives going after a woman who doesn’t wish to be found. They ought to give her the same respect they would want if something dark and horrific happened to them.”

  “She’s lost in her darkness, Maggie. I have to do something.”

  “Do you? Have you ever thought there is nothing anyone can do for her? It’s up to her to do what she must do. You cannot save her, my dear.”

  “But she saved me.”

  “Aye, she did. This is not a time for quid pro quo. She needs you to leave her be. You see, the glaigh are a very special breed. Giving up her life for yours would have been an honorable way to die. Being beat and savaged by those men was not. They have taken from her what only she can get back. You’d do well to remember that before you make contact with her. Trust me, my dear. She is no longer the woman you once knew. Prepare yourself for that.”

  “I will. I have. But nothing can keep me from her. Honor be damned, Maggie. If she’s out there and needs me, I’m not going to sit around waiting for her permission.”

  True to her word, Quinn and the two warriors headed to the border on three horses, riding hard into the belly of a beast they all knew only too well.

  They set camp at sundown, only a mile or two ride from the border. Neither man said much as they made camp, and it wasn’t until Laing was lightly snoring that Seanie said he would take first watch.

  “Seanie?”

  “Aye?” Seanie knelt in front of the campfire, the shadows dancing across his face.

  “Am I doing the wrong thing?”

  He frowned. “In goin’ after young Evan? Aye, but there are times in everra laoch cuidich’s life when he has to prove to himself and his warrior that he is truly ready fer battle—truly prepared to be a galloglaigh. This is what Evan is doin’.”

  Quinn leaned closer, her elbows on her knees. “To prove himself to whom? Lake?”

  He nodded. “To Lake. To the other glass. To himself. Mostly to himself. If the ghost is Evan, then he is clearly tryin’ to heal himself by taking his vengeance, as we all would.”

  “Alone?”

  “Aye. Always alone, Callaghan. What young Evan is doin’ is the dangerous sort of attack. Alone, strikin’ from the shadows with no one but yerself? Oh, aye. It is as foolish as it is dangerous.”

  Quinn closed her eyes and nodded. “Thank you. And thank you for coming.”

  “Evan and Lake are the best people I ken, Callaghan. They’d do no less fer me.”

  As Seanie walked away, Quinn went over and over her plan in her head. What they needed was answers. What they would have to do is kill for them.

  Both were easy enough to come by, but could she pull it off without Evan being any the wiser?

  Rising, Quinn moved silently through the bush to her horse. Pulling out her pirate clothes she quickly changed. As she turned to go back to camp, she ran straight into Laing.

  “Seanie thought ya’d sneak away, Captain.”

  “I was just going to scout the first encampment,” Quinn said.

  “Not alone, yer not. Look, man, we both ken what is happenin’ here, and we didna agree to escort ya to the battle. We came to fight. Lettin’ us fight is the least ya can do.”

  Quinn felt her burden melt away. “Then let’s get Seanie and see what sort of damage we can do before sunrise.”

  Laing’s face split into a grin.

  Seanie came out of the shadows. “Sometimes, Captain, ya ferget who we are and what we do. I say it’s high time we spilt some English blood.”

  And that was the beginning of the bloodbath Quinn began against the Reivers.

  The first thing she did was wear her dress over her pirate clothes. Then she slid a dagger between her breasts. Once she looked feminine enough, she and the two young laoch cuidich walked the horses to a meadow and tied them to a small tree just on the perimeter.

  “In and out, boys,” Quinn said. “No doubt they have sentries or other guards who will return to that camp. We have to be long gone before then.”

  Seanie nodded. “We’re ready, Callaghan, to remove these bloody bastards from our homeland.”

  “You both know the plan. Not a moment before you hear me, aye?”

  They both nodded. “Aye.”

  “See you shortly, fellas.” Hiking up her dress, Quinn made her way through the forested area favored by the Reivers. Try as she might, she could not shake the images of Evan beneath the filthy hands of the Englishmen who had brutalized her.

  “I’ll find you, Evan,” she said to herself. “And we’ll fix this.”

  When the glow from their campsite illuminated the darkness, Quinn stopped to catch her breath before pulling her layers of skirt up higher. Then, taking a deep breath, she took off running for the camp, yelling for someone to help her.

  Immediately, the camp came to life and three English Reivers ran to her.

  “What are you doing out in this dark mess, missus?”

  “Are you all right?”

  “Are you being followed?”

  “Yes,” Quinn answered, pretending to swoon. “My caravan was attacked by Scottish highwaymen. I managed to escape, but those thieves chased me into the woods. I—”

  “How many?”

  “Five? Six? It’s hard to say. I’ve been running all day.” Quinn smiled inwardly. Her English was impeccable.

  One man called for the captain, while another offered her water.

  A third glared at her suspiciously. “You been running all day you say?”

  Quinn sipped her water and looked him right in the eyes. “All day and into the evening.”

  “What is your name?”

  “Fiona Moynihan. My father is Lord Moynihan.”

  The glarer turned and intercepted the captain, whispering something as he did. When the captain nodded, he strode over to Queen even as half a dozen men took off in the direction she’d come.

  “Lady Moynihan?” the captain asked, bowing. “I understand you are here under the most unfortunate circumstances. Please. Join me in my tent where you can sit and rest. You are safe here.”

  Quinn nodded demurely and followed him into his tent.

  “I am Captain Ellsworth,” he said, bowing again. He was a tall, angular fellow with a horse face and dead lady hands. If he was a captain, it wasn’t in any army Quinn had ever seen.

  Quinn sat at the small wooden table and set her water in the center of it. He sat and lit a second candle. “My second tells me you are Lord Moynihan’s wife.”

  Quinn saw this for the trap it was. “He is mistaken, sir. I am Fiona Moynihan, his daughter. My mother passed when I was a young girl. Are you sure we are safe here? Those horrible men––”

  “Will be dead within the hour, Lady Moynihan. Rest assured, you are quite safe here.” Leaning forward, he smiled a disingenuous grin. “How is Englan
d treating your father these days?”

  “My father is in Ireland, sir.”

  This seemed to appease the captain. “Ah yes! I do remember hearing about that. Very well.”

  “Yes, I was on my way to his land in Scotland before returning home.”

  “It is a dangerous world for a woman such as yourself to travel by carriage. The Scottish highwaymen are everywhere.”

  And yet, Quinn thought, you are the greatest threat.

  “I heard the Scots send out ghosts to attack. Who does such a thing?”

  “These filthy Highlanders, milady.”

  “Of course it is. One man cannot destroy an entire English camp no matter how good he is. It is merely a rumor started by the Scots in a vain attempt to strike fear into the hearts of fearless men. There is nothing to fear from a lone Scotsman, be they galloglaigh or Scottish clansmen.”

  “That is so reassuring. Thank you.” Quinn placed her hand over her chest, right about where her dagger lay.

  “We keep these borders free and clear of the likes of them.”

  Quinn sighed heavily. “The likes of them being the hard-working Scots who just wish to keep their way of life?”

  The captain’s face registered his deep seated anger at this, and he pushed away the table to stand.

  Quinn rose as well.

  “I daresay, madam, I did not suspect you to be a sympathizer. Our conversation is over.” He called out to his second. “Come retrieve the lady and escort her to our . . . special holding area.” When he returned his attention to Quinn, he had one second to glance down at the dagger in her hand that slit his throat.

  He tried crying out as he grabbed his gaping throat.

  “The last words you’re going to hear, you bastard, are these: Long live Mary, Queen of Scots, and all her royal subjects.”

  Just as the captain fell to the ground, the tent flap opened to reveal the second. Quinn grabbed him by the front of the shirt and yanked him into the tent. He got two steps in when she rammed her dagger up into his ribcage.

  “Special holding area, my ass,” she growled, pushing harder.

  He flailed, trying to wrap his hands around her neck to no avail.

  When she pulled the bloody dagger out, she shoved him to the ground, where he bled out and died.

  Quinn wiped her bloody hand of on his clothes, put her fingers to her mouth, and whistled loudly. Then, she opened the flap and called for help.