Shiver Her Timbers (The Plundered Chronicles Book 2)

by Alex Westmore

  Even pregnant and shaken, Mary rode as hard as any of the men. When they finally arrived, she had collected her wits about her enough to begin ordering her men to back down and let Grace’s men take over.

  “I will not have Scots killing Scots if we can avoid it,” she proclaimed.

  Quinn figured that was one reason the queen and Grace had gotten along so well: they both treasured the lives of their people.

  So Mary ordered her men to protect the castle and allowed Grace and her men to go on the offensive.

  Which they did.

  This gave Grace and her crew time to get Mary and her husband to safety, to ensconce them where they would not be harassed, and to take a breath from the turmoil and chaos caused both within and without Mary’s inner circle.

  The fight lasted less than an hour more because the rats who had come to take a bite out of Rizzio had been successful in ending his life. They scattered, and the few who were picked up were taken to the dungeons somewhere or presumably killed en route.

  Regardless of where the traitors slipped off too, Mary of Scotland was safely concealed within Dunbar for the remainder of her pregnancy, which ended less than a month later with the successful birth of a baby boy heir.

  After Mary caught her breath and grieved over the death of a man presumably her lover and father of her child, she took herself to bed and did not leave the safety of her room for another month.

  In that time, she shared with Quinn and Grace how broken her heart was over the loss of Rizzio and how he was the only person who really loved and understood her.

  “Have you ever met a man, Grace O’Malley, who just stole your heart and never gave it back?”

  Grace smiled slightly and nodded. “Aye, my friend, I have, indeed. Just recently, as a matter of fact. He came out of nowhere and landed right here.” Grace placed her hand over her heart.

  “Ah, then you ken of what I speak. He was everything to me, that man. Loved hard, lived well, and what did he get for it? It hurts me to the marrow of my bones.”

  Grace gently patted Mary’s hand. “Aye. It is that feelin’ that ya’ve known each other forever and that he fills in the pieces of ya that have gone lost or missin’.”

  And so it went.

  Mary cried for days, making Darnley angry each time. He had no sympathy for her. He had no gentle touch. Darnley was a cuckolded man, and even the death of his sexual rival hadn’t changed his dour demeanor.

  “That man is troublesome,” Grace whispered to Quinn one night while they stood outside in the garden. “He looks right through her.”

  “He doesn’t see her, Grace. Only her power.”

  “And that makes him a dangerous man... a dangerous man, indeed.”

  Grace and her men remained ever vigilant during that month after the baby was born, fending off a couple of attacks and engaging in a few light skirmishes, but other than that, they spent a good deal of time playing cards, drinking, and whoring around with the local wenches. Although many a wench found an interest in Quinn, she chose instead to play cards and gamble. The last thing she needed on her plate was another woman.

  A week after the child was born, Grace took the crew to the seas, leaving Quinn and Tavish at Dunbar to oversee the safety of Mary’s son, James, born on the nineteenth of June, 1566. He was a healthy babe, to be sure, and Mary fairly glowed upon gazing at him.

  Lord Darnley, not as much. It had become evident to both Quinn and Tavish that there was no love lost between Darnley and Mary, and she seldom allowed him into her chambers. Mary’s orders were to protect James at the cost of Darnley’s life, if need be, and hers as well if it should come to that.

  “I am not of the same mind as the queen,” Tavish said to Quinn one morning when they were breaking fast. “Mary is the most important figure in Scotland. We will not sacrifice her to save a baby that will be dead two moments after her heart stops beatin’.”

  Quinn bit into a drumstick. “Grace believes that Mary’s life would be safer if he were gone. What do you think?”

  “I think Grace O’Malley can spot danger long before it sees her, and if she thinks he needs to go, then he needs to go. This baby places even more pressure on Elizabeth and will be more of a threat to her throne than just her cousin. Succession would go to the child, perhaps forever takin’ Scotland from Elizabeth’s reach.”

  “You’re worried.”

  Tavish nodded. “Elizabeth may be ruthless, but it is nothin’ compared to the men she surrounds herself with.”

  “Do ya think Grace left us with enough men to watch him?”

  Tavish grinned. “Aye, she did. Just before she left, she gave me a bag of coin and told me to buy some men I kenned could be trusted. All those men in the hallways? Friends of mine from way back.”

  Quinn stared down at her half-eaten food. “A month more is a long time, Tavish. Already I yearn fer home.”

  Tavish stopped eating and made eye contact with her. “That’s why love is the endin’ emotion of a pirate’s life. Once a woman has her grips in ya, it becomes harder and harder to be away. To be honest with ya, lad, I am a wee bit surprised yer still on the captain’s ship.”

  When Tavish went back to eating, Quinn blew out a heavy sigh. “They have both accused me of lovin’ Grace more than them, Tavish. Could that possibly be true?”

  It took some time for Tavish to answer. He chewed slowly and deliberated even more. “Grace is a commandin’ person, lad. Her men follow her because of her presence and the power she represents. Ya do love her. I daresay we all do. But she isna why ya keep comin’ back to the ship.”

  “No?”

  “No. Yer in love with the life, Callaghan. The pirate’s life. Grace happens to be at the helm of that life. It makes sense that she plays such a big part in yer life. In all of our lives. Ya canna have it both ways. Yer either a land lover or yer a pirate.”

  Quinn pushed the drumstick around on her plate. “But you’re not a pirate, and you manage both.”

  Tavish threw his head back and laughed. “Lad, I gave up the land life the moment I set foot on her ship. It is the price we all have to pay.”

  There was no price to pay in that month they waited for Grace to return from her duties to Ireland. Life went about quietly. There were no rebellions to quell, no conspiracies to put down. There was just a woman and her infant son. So by the time Grace returned for them, the babe was fat and healthy, Mary was calmer, and everything appeared to be stable.

  “Captain,” Quinn said the night before Grace and the crew were to leave for the return trip to Ireland. “What is it that binds you to this monarch?”

  Grace stared out over the luscious gardens, rocking back and forth on the balls of her feet as she did when on the deck of the ship. “I was wonderin’ when ya’d ask. As ya know, Callaghan, Mary lived in the French court fer most of her young life. My father, Black Oak, did much business with the French when I was a young girl. One day, I strayed too far from the docks and found a little girl cryin’. It was Mary. She was saddened by havin’ no friends. So I befriended her. Everra time we came to the Calais, there she was, waitin’ fer me. Oh, we had such a grand time together playin’. She never let me call her princess or Majesty or ennathin’ but Mary.” Grace’s voice trailed off.

  “What happened?”

  Grace smiled softly. “She became queen of Scotland.”

  “But... how did she not know that I wasn’t you when I masqueraded as such?”

  “Mary hadn’t seen me fer almost twenty years, and when we were children, I did not go by Grace on land.”

  Finally, as if someone has turned up a lantern, Quinn stared at her. “No. Don’t tell me––”

  She nodded. “Aye, Callaghan. I have been where ya are... where ya were when ya first came to me.”

  “Why didn’t you ever say anything?”

  “I don’t owe ya or ennaone enna explanations, Callaghan. One doesn’t run around tellin’ everraone they are friends with the queen of Scotland.”
r />   Quinn nodded. “That I understand, sir, but being ‘friends’ with Mary––”

  “Means bein’ enemies of the queen of England. Aye. It is my childhood friend I protect now, and she needs me more than she did when we were little girls.”

  Quinn’s mouth moved but no words came out.

  Grace chuckled at Quinn’s shock. “When we came to Scotland six years ago, and Mary and I reconnected, that girlish friendship deepened, and we had many talks about the fate of our countries. We understand each other, Callaghan. Bein’ understood in this life rarely happens.”

  Quinn thought she understood what Grace was getting at. Maybe she did not. “The queen of England has just been poked in the eye with the birth of James, and we both know it is only a matter of time before she strikes back.”

  As for the queen of Connacht, she could not get out of Scotland fast enough and was a harsh taskmaster for the short voyage back to the shores of their beloved Eyre.

  Quinn knew Grace was in a hurry to return to her own young lover, a man Grace seemed deeply attached to for reasons the crew did not understand.

  But Quinn did.

  Hugh brought out the girl in Grace O’Malley. He made her laugh. He reminded her of a time when life was carefree and easy. When she looked upon him, her face appeared years younger, her bearing softer and kinder. He was a drug to her, and she ate him with a spoon.

  “The captain is certainly smitten with the young lad,” Connor whispered as he and Quinn worked the ropes. “I can’t say as I’ve ever seen her so... so...”

  “Happy?”

  “Womanly.”

  Quinn inhaled deeply. This was not a good thing. “I’ve tried to talk with her about it.”

  “Leave her be, Callaghan. The men enjoy seein’ a different side a her. I mean, look at her when she is talkin’ to him. She looks twenty years younger.”

  “Well, I fer one am glad she left him back at Rockfleet. As much as she seems to care about him, he doesn’t carry his weight, and that is never a good thing aboard a ship.”

  It would have been more romantic if Hugh was the kind of man’s man Grace truly needed, but Quinn thought him too young, too needy. Sure, he was still recovering from the shipwreck, but he was all wrong for her. Still, she seemed in love with him, and the crew would never question why. All they wanted was to beat a hasty retreat away from Scotland.

  Unfortunately, the chaos and darkness of Scotland had stowed away on board the Malendroke, because what the Irish found upon arrival was as heartbreaking as the loss of Mary’s lover, David Rizzio.

  * * *

  When they landed at Rockfleet, they were met by an enraged land crew who all at once began yammering about Hugh de Lacy and someone doing something and and and... Quinn could barely make sense of anything they were saying because they were all talking so rapidly.

  “Everraone be still!” Connor yelled, looking to Grace for help in quieting the group.

  When Grace finally silenced them, One Eye stepped forward, bowed his head and delivered news that rocked Quinn back on her heels.

  “I dunno,” One Eye said softly. “There ain’t no easy way to say this, sir.” One Eye glanced over to Quinn, who stood wide eyed. “I’m afraid... we’re afraid... Hugh has been kilt.”

  For what felt like an eternity, Grace stood immobile, hands clenched at her sides, eyes glaring at One Eye.

  No one breathed.

  No one moved.

  Quinn cut her eyes over to Innis, who just barely managed a shrug. Then she looked at Connor, who respectfully averted his gaze.

  This was not going to go down very well. At all.

  The air around them grew thick until finally Grace managed to push out two icy words that chilled the room. “Killed. How?”

  The men of Rockfleet appeared uncomfortable as they waited for their chosen messenger to deliver the tale... a tale no one had wanted to share with their captain.

  Clearing his throat, One Eye inhaled deeply. “He was walkin’ on Achill Island, and the MacMahons of Doona Castle followed and killed him.”

  Grace bowed her head. For a moment, the men thought she might cry.

  She did not.

  Instead, when she raised her head, her eyes flashed with an anger Quinn had never before seen from Grace, and she had seen the captain in many, many angry moods before. “So he was murdered.”

  One Eye nodded. “Aye, sir. That he was.”

  “Hunted like an animal and murdered.”

  One Eye nodded again.

  “I see.” Grace cracked the knuckles on both hands. “And why would ennaone kill a man just walkin’?”

  One Eye cast a slow glance over to Quinn as if asking for help. “Because he belonged to ya?”

  Grace slowly nodded. “Aye. And we can best guess it was Elizabeth, Richard, or Deputy Sidney who had my man killed.” When no one replied, Grace said, “Give me a moment. We shall gather in the main hall to discuss what our next step is.” Turning to the men, she dismissed them. “Callaghan.”

  Quinn slowly turned. “Yes, sir?”

  “Go to yer woman and her babe. It is times like these when we realize how precious little life we have left. Take a moment to love them both, because after that moment of life we will be wadin’ in long moments of death. Long, long moments.” Grace glanced up at the rest of the crew. “Ya rat bastards have two days to see yer families and loved ones. After that, avengin’ Hugh’s death will be the only goal until we complete it.”

  Quinn felt the heated ire rising in Grace as her pupils, barely pinpricks, zeroed in on her. “Captain? Sure ya don’t wish fer us all to remain here with ya?”

  Grace shook her head. “I’m goin’ after the MacMahons soon enough, Callaghan, but the resta ya need to love yer loved ones.”

  “But––”

  “It’s not a request, Callaghan.” As Grace walked off the ship, Quinn could only stare at her.

  “Ya canna go, lad,” Tavish whispered from behind Quinn. “Ya might be the only person capable of bringin’ her back.”

  “Back?”

  “Back from the grips of the bloodlust flowin’ through her veins. She isna gonna shake this off none too quickly, and the chill comin’ off her could freeze a glacier.”

  “Tavish is right.”

  Turning, Quinn blinked as Innis approached. “She’s smarter than that.”

  Tavish shook his head. “Smarts has nothin’ to do with it, lad. Rage I understand. Yellin’ I understand. But that response? That worras me and it ought to worra ya as well.”

  Quinn glanced over her shoulder once more at Grace. She seemed both bigger and smaller in stature as she ordered men to bring up the weapons.

  “She is liable to do somethin’ that could affect us all, Callaghan, and ya may be the only one who can get her to listen to reason.”

  Returning her gaze to Innis, Quinn nodded. She could not disagree with him on that point at all, but she was unsure if her words would have impact on the woman. “She’ll go after the MacMahons fer sure.”

  “Aye. That, she will. That she will. And she will kill everra last one of them if she can. Men, women, and children—she intends to scorch the earth.”

  Quinn shook her head. Revenge against those who offended you was acceptable clan practice. Going beyond that could start a war nobody would win. “She’ll not kill women and children, but destroyin’ the menfolk of the clan? Aye.”

  “I’ve sailed and fought with the captain long enough, Callaghan,” Innis said, “to know when to cover her and when to give her room. Now is no time fer the latter. Ya can’t go.”

  Quinn turned to watch Grace barking more orders down on the dock. Everything about her seemed different. Even her voice had a sharper-than-usual edge to it. This type of revenge could go wrong in so many ways. “Can ya put her off? Just one more night. That’s all I’m askin’. Get her drunk. Give her a reason to not fight. Ennathin’ to give me a moment to check on my lady.”

  Innis and Tavish exchanged questionin
g glances.

  “I suppose we could try, but I have never heard that tone of voice from her.”

  Tavish tapped a finger to his chin. “If yer thinkin’ aboot goin’ and comin’ back, ya need to take a coupla fellas with ya. Ya willna have time to fight or take detours.”

  Quinn shook her head. “Ya all ride like old women. I’ll be faster alone.”

  Innis nodded, his eyebrows knitted together. “He’s right, Callaghan, but if ya go it alone, ya have to get back before midday.”

  Quinn thought about her conversation with Robert. If she was going to disappear from Fiona’s life, it would be on her terms, not his. “Right. Look, if ya have to go without me, leave word with Becca and I’ll join ya as soon as I can.”

  “Lad, ya canna be late. If she goes off and starts killin’ other clan members, we will have a battle on our hands many will nae walk away from.”

  Inhaling deeply, Quinn bowed her head and thought hard about her decision. “I have some loose ends to tie up at the castle, boys. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

  “Aye. Then off with ya. We’ll handle it from here.”

  Grabbing her bundle of clothes, and then thinking better of it, Quinn started down the plank. She would go as the pirate she was, as the person she was. She would not let Robert dictate to her regardless of his threats. Take Fiona away? There was no place he could take her that she wouldn’t find her. Go to England? So what? So far, as a pirate, she had never let anyone but Grace tell her what to do or how to live.

  She wasn’t about to start now.

  “And Callaghan?”

  She half-turned.

  “If Hugh was truly murdered, that can only mean one thing.”

  A tense moment passed until Quinn stated the obvious: “We’re all in danger, and not from our own folk.”

  “Aye. That we are, mate. That we are.”

  * * *

  Quinn rode harder than she’d ever ridden in her life –– partly because of her desire to be with Fiona again and partly because of her concern for Grace’s state of mind.

  Grace O’Malley had fallen hard for the young Hugh de Lacy. Quinn could see that even if the other crew members could not. She’d nursed him back from the brink of death only to lose him to some foolish clan for some as of yet unknown reason.