Shiver Her Timbers: The Plundered Chronicles

by Alex Westmore

The murder of Hugh’s killers had been a bad idea from the outset, but Quinn knew no one could have talked Grace out of it. Now, here they were once more because of love, needing to rescue a woman from the clutches of men who feared her.

  After the third straight hour, Tavish told Quinn he needed a break to give his arse a rest. They had passed a couple of smaller villages but made sure to skirt around them. Winter was coming, and everyone was bustling to prepare for the long cold.

  Quinn had refused to stop or even slow down until now, but she agreed.

  While they watered and rested the horses, Fitz went to get some fresh vegetables from the open market, leaving Tavish and Quinn to check the horse’s hooves and to stretch out their legs.

  The air smelled of baked goods, blacksmith flames, and horse manure. From the field just outside the village, she could see and hear merchants and customers bartering for goods. It was a sight she never tired of seeing.

  “Yer runnin’ us pretty hard, Callaghan. Are ya all right, lad?”

  “I am fine, Tavish. Worried is all.”

  Tavish lowered a hoof and looked under the horses at Quinn. “No. No yer more than just worried. We’ve been friends a long time, Callaghan, and I ken when somethin’ is pokin’ at ya. It’s been like this since England. Ya’ve been distracted and... sad.”

  Quinn lowered the hoof she’d been holding. “I ended my relationship with Fiona.”

  Tavish picked up a back hoof. “If that’s what ya wanted, then good fer ya.”

  “Good for me?”

  Tavish walked around behind the horses and grabbed Quinn by the shoulders. “Listen to me this one last time. Beddin’ a married woman will bring ya nothin’ but trouble. Ya’ve managed longer than most without gettin’ caught, so praise the gods and get over the pain in yer heart.”

  “It wasn’t about getting... caught.”

  “I ken. It was aboot Evan, yes?”

  Quinn shrugged. “Evan is far away in a life that can never mix with mine. I’m a pirate, Tavish. She is land-based. I am Irish. She is Scottish. I am––”

  “Do ya even hear yerself? Yer voice isna the same when ya speak of her. Are ya tryin’ to convince me or yerself?”

  Quinn shoved him away. “I don’t know.”

  He stepped right back up to her. “But I do, lad. Six years and several ladies, and no one has changed yer voice like Evan. No one. Not even the high and mighty Fiona Moynihan.”

  “You don’t care for Fiona?”

  “I doona care fer enna woman who wraps ya ’round their finger. She’s a married woman with a bairn, Callaghan. Ya shoulda ended it years ago.”

  “And you’re telling me this now?”

  “Yer affairs are none of my business, lad. Ya made yer choices. I stayed close to make sure they didna hurt ya.”

  Quinn grabbed her horse’s back hoof and studied it. “It matters not, anyway. I can’t seem to love a woman whom I can even have.”

  Tavish chuckled. “Oh lad, dontcha see? That’s how it always is. We canna ever really have them. It is a fool’s play to believe we can.”

  “Why not?”

  “’Cause they’re smarter than us. They’ll always be smarter than us. Why do ya think our captain is a woman and the countries we live in are run by women?”

  “’Cause they’re smarter?”

  “Thatta boy.”

  When Fitz returned, they all ate a bit before mounting up and riding the rest of the way to Dublin, a bustling city filled with people from all over Ireland.

  Quinn had always loved coming to Dublin. There was an energy about it that only cities seemed to have. Unlike the smaller villages she was used to, Dublin was colorful, full of more people from different cultures, and had a smell to it all its own. It was both beautiful and bewitching, and she suddenly realized how much she had missed it when she had been Lady Gallagher.

  Lady Gallagher.

  It was time once more to be that woman, so she dropped Tavish and Fitz off at a tavern, changed her attire and then went to see her old friend Catherine at the merchant’s store on the corner.

  An hour later, Quinn exited the shop, having paid for any clothing left for the Gallaghers as well as for Kennedy’s and Shea’s families. While Catherine kept coming closer to Quinn, Quinn tried to keep her distance. She was certain she stunk of horse, road, sea, and men, but she had managed to pay Catherine to outfit a couple dozen men or more, and that was most important.

  After seeing Catherine and changing her clothes, Quinn swung by the tavern and picked up Tavish. Fitz, who spoke a variety of languages including English, had listened in on some conversations and found out that Grace was still in Dublin.

  Armed with this knowledge, Quinn left Fitz there to keep an ear to the ground to see if he night find Shea, and together she and Tavish rode closer to Dublin Castle, where Grace was being held prisoner.

  Dublin Castle was a colossal thing: towering into the clouds, it looked more like a monster than a castle. The grounds were impeccably kept, although puddles everywhere made the going a bit more difficult.

  The Record Tower stood like a chess piece waiting to be removed from the board. The castle was bound on all sides by tall defensive walls with circular towers perched at each corner.

  “I’ll go in first and see if she is still here,” Quinn said.

  Tavish remained on his horse outside the walls. “I doona like this, Callaghan. I doona like it one bit. Irishmen bein’ taken prisoner by the English trespassers is wrong. So verra wrong.”

  “I know, but those very trespassers are allies of the clans who resent Captain O’Malley’s power.”

  Tavish’s eyes were all over the place as he surveyed their surroundings. “Ya ken we are goin’ to have to deal with those clans. We canna sit idly by while they turn on us.”

  “I am aware. I am also aware that that may be precisely what the English are hoping for. If we start tearing into each other, they needn’t do anything more than come in to sweep up the pieces. We must be smarter than that.”

  Tavish zeroed in on her face. “Meanin’ what?”

  “Meaning we mustn’t fall into that trap of revenge. Revenge begets retribution, which begets revenge. Don’t you see? Elizabeth’s men want us to kill each other. They want us to divide so they can conquer. We will not give them the satisfaction of being their pawn in that.” Quinn took off her weapons and handed them to Tavish. “There’s a reason they brought her to Dublin, Tavish. I aim to find out what that reason is.”

  “I’ll give ya two hours, lad. Then I’m comin’ in after ya.”

  Nodding, Quinn entered through the gates and into the expanse that was the Dublin Castle. As she walked through the gates, she could feel eyes on her. Maybe she was paranoid, maybe not, but she was certain of one thing: she was not completely safe here.

  Walking through the courtyard, Quinn’s eyes scanned the grounds until she found what she was looking for: a washerwoman carrying clothes to the water and struggling with the basket. When she set it down. Quinn swooped in to pick it up.

  “Let me help ya with that.”

  The woman took a step back, eyes wide. “I can carry it, sir. I...” She tilted her head. “Are ya a pirate?”

  “I sail the seas, yes.” Quinn held the basket to her chest. “But I am harmless, m’lady. Now, where are we headed with this heavy basket of filthy noble laundry?”

  The woman, a young girl no more than fourteen or fifteen, grinned at the words filthy noble before pointing down the street.

  “Verra well then. Shall we?”

  Looking around, the young woman nodded.

  As they walked, Quinn whistled an Irish tune and smiled at passersby.

  “So ya are a pirate, then? Have ya... have ya come fer her?”

  Quinn smiled inwardly. “Her?”

  “The pirate queen of Connacht. Are ya one of her pirates?”

  “I am not. I am surprised ennaone could capture the likes of Grace O’Malley. I’ve heard many tales about her abilit
ies. Is she... is she still here?”

  The woman nodded. “Oh yes. Everraone is talkin’ about it. We hear she bit a man’s nose off when he got too close to her face. She is a hero, eh?”

  “Aye. That she is. What else are they sayin’?”

  “Depends on who ya ask. Them English say she burned down six English ships and is runnin’ through the countryside with Scottish fighters, killin’ everraone in sight.”

  Quinn grit her teeth. “Aye, I see. The rumors have gained momentum.”

  “Oh, I do not believe they are rumors, sir. Ya shoulda seen her when they brought her in. Her red hair was flowin’ wild like a lion’s mane. Her face was bruised and her clothes dirty and torn. She is as wild as they say she is.”

  There were a million questions Quinn wanted to ask, but she knew she had to be careful.

  “Has she had any visitors?”

  “Why yes! The English governor came just this mornin’.” The young girl pointed to a washing station. “Down there, if ya’d be so kind.”

  “Not a problem. I had no idea there was so much activity here. I shall have to come again. May I... pay ya a visit?”

  A red blush crept up on the young woman’s face. “I would like that. I’m Emily.”

  Quinn set the basket down in a small clearing between two other washerwomen trying vainly to hear their conversation. “I am known as Evan.” Quinn bowed.

  “Thank ya fer helpin’ me... Evan.” She lowered her voice. “Is there somethin’ I can do fer ya?”

  “Do ya happen to know of enna other way into the main buildin’?”

  She grinned. “There is a side entrance to the lower house. Only the servants use it. If ya come to it, ask fer me and tell ’em ya are bearin’ news from my family about my sick brother. They will let ya in.”

  “Excellent. Then when I next return to Dublin, I will most certainly call on ya.” Quinn bowed once more, took five steps, then turned back around. “I do not wish to go where the pirate queen is being held. What direction is she so I can avoid it altogether?”

  She pointed toward a tower. “Oh, they are keepin’ her in Bermingham Tower, but ya needn’t worry. There are plenty of guards to keep her in.” Emily shook her head. “One would think all of those big, strong men were afraid of her.”

  “One would think. Thank ya, dear, kind, Emily. Ya stay safe now.”

  When she was out of sight of the washing area, Quinn went in the exact direction Emily had pointed to, wondering just why it was there were so many guards to hold one woman. As she neared the tower, a hand slapped around her mouth, and she was pulled into a slim alley between two buildings. Reaching for her sword, Quinn remembered too late that she had left it with Tavish.

  “Stop struggling, Callaghan. It’s me!”

  The hand released her. When she whipped around, fist raised in the air, she saw Kwame.

  “Kwame! By the goddesses, what are you doing here?”

  “Shea came to me when I was in town and told me the rumor that the deputy was going after Grace.”

  “You saw Shea? How is she?”

  He smiled softly. “As beautiful as ever. Would that I could be her man; I would be the happiest man in the world. She told me you had given her a job to do.” Kwame’s eyes narrowed. “It does not make me happy that you have endangered her.”

  Quinn shook her head. “She is not in any danger, Kwame. She merely listens.”

  “Well, that listening gave me a chance to follow the captain when she went to the tavern. I was outside the tavern when they dragged her out, so I followed. I had no time to get word out. I’ve been keeping watch from afar, knowing you all would come sooner or later. I could only hope it was sooner.”

  “How is she? Is she––”

  “Alive? Aye. They’ll not be foolish enough to kill her here. They wish to put her on trial. They will want to make an example of her.”

  “This whole act is outrageous. I heard the grounds were burning English ships. Is that true?”

  “As far as I know, aye. But Callaghan, they hold her not for her crime. That is what they want everyone to think. They hold her because they know we will come after her.”

  “What?”

  Kwame nodded. “The MacMahons and their allies have paid handsomely for all of our heads. They are in bed with the English now, and they will stop at nothing to get their castle back and exact revenge for the deaths of those she killed.”

  “So she’s bait. That’s why there are so many guards. They are lying in wait.”

  Kwame nodded and adjusted his ill-fitting clothes. “Aye. They have men waiting for our ships to dock, and they’ll arrest the whole lot of us for those murders. Please tell me you’re not alone.”

  “Tavish waits outside. Fitz is at a tavern. The three of us came by horseback. The rest will arrive on the Breeze and the Mystery soon enough.”

  “Then there is still time. You must stop them from entering the port. There are English ships waiting to fire upon the Malendroke. They have been sitting in the bay since they captured her, just waiting.”

  Quinn looked at him. “We did not bring the Malendroke.”

  Kwame sighed loudly. “Well, at least that is in our favor.”

  “I have to get in to see her.”

  Kwame’s eyes grew wide. “No, Callaghan. You can’t do that. They’ll lock you up or use you to get to her.”

  Quinn nodded, feeling her heart beat with the sands of time.

  “If we send any man in to see her, we might never see them again.”

  Raising her head up and smiling, Quinn leveled her gaze at Kwame. “Any man is right.”

  He just stared at her.

  “I have a plan.”

  * * *

  Tavish raced back from the city center and leapt off his black horse. Handing a package to Quinn, he said grimly, “I am not fond of this ploy, Callaghan. Not fond at all.”

  Taking the package, Quinn headed behind a smithy shop with Tavish and Kwame in tow. “Surely, they’ll allow a noblewoman bearing decent food in to see the captain. The guards are still Irishmen.”

  “Aye, Callaghan, but you can’t possibly think you can pull off being a fancy-pants noblewoman?” Kwame argued. “You’re small and all, but acting like a woman? I don’t know how you can pull that off.”

  Quinn looked up at Tavish. Something odd passed between them, and in that moment, she knew.

  “Callaghan’s plan is the only one we’ve got, Kwame. We need to ken what we’re up against before the rest of the crew arrives.”

  “But a woman? Come on, Tavish! There is no way a pirate can dress up like a woman, let alone a noble one! That’s like dressing a pig like a stallion. He might look like a horse, but the minute he oinks––”

  “Trust me, Kwame. I can do this. Now, please, both of you stand way over there with your backs turned, and do not turn around.”

  They did as they were told, and Quinn quickly stripped down and added the many uncomfortable layers women wore. When she got to the corset, she knew there was only one way to get it cinched.

  One way.

  Grace O’Malley and her crew’s lives depended on her now. Keeping her secret would cost people their lives unless she did this.

  There was simply no other way.

  Holding the corset to her nearly flat chest, she called to Tavish. “I... uh... need some help with the corset.” When Tavish turned, he stopped for a slight pause before stepping behind Quinn and grabbing the laces.

  “Forgive me, Tavish,” Quinn said softly. “For not being honest with you. I––”

  Tavish leaned closer, his chin near her shoulder. “Hush, Callaghan.” He pulled the laces tightly. “Ya think who ya really are is news to me?” He chuckled. “Men see what they want to see until ya show them somethin’ else. A long time ago, I saw somethin’ else. I figured ya had a million and one reasons fer not tellin’ me... I mean, other than the obvious.”

  Quinn whirled around. “You knew?”

  Tavish nodd
ed. “At first, it bothered me ya didna feel like ya could trust me with the truth. Then I understood that it didna matter to me. Like I told ya. Everrabody has a secret. Some big. Some small. Some are shared, others not. Yers is and always will be safe with me.”

  Quinn blinked, tears coming to her eyes. “Tavish––”

  “Now doona go all girlie on me, Callaghan, just ’cause yer dressed like one.” He smiled. “Yer a pirate, through and through. Doona matter to me what’s under the clothes. What matters is what’s under yer skin, and ya got the heart of a warrior. So, if it’s all the same to ya, I’d prefer we continue with the ruse. No one need ken unless ya wish ’em to. They’ll not be hearin’ it from the likes of me.”

  Quinn nodded. “Thank you.”

  “It’s a brilliant move, lad, dressin’ as a noblewoman, but ya gotta get in and get out. The walls have ears, so be verra careful what ya say and what the captain says.” Tavish turned her back around and pulled once more.

  “Holy hell, how do women wear these things day in and day out?” Quinn groused. “I can barely remember what it feels like.”

  “I’m thinkin’ it’s magic.”

  Quinn chuckled and immediately regretted doing so. Adjusting her clothes, Quinn turned back around and undid her short ponytail. Then she ran her hands through her hair and fluffed it up.

  Tavish was smiling. “No one will stop ya, Callaghan. Ya look––”

  “Say it and I’ll kick your arse right here.”

  Tavish stared at her before both started laughing.

  “In and out, Callaghan.” Tavish bent down and grabbed the throwing knives sheath. “Strap this under that thing, just in case. Ya canna go in unarmed.”

  Quinn lifted her dress and strapped the knives to her thigh. “Wait for me outside the front gate, the one we came in through. After that, I need you to tell Fitz what’s going on and send him to the docks. We have to warn the ships not to pull into the harbor.”

  “Best way to do that isna from the dock. We need to send him ahead.”

  “On a ship?”

  Tavish shook his head. “Better to try to signal them from shore.” Tavish laid his hand on Quinn’s shoulder. “Be smart, Callaghan. In and out. Aye?”