Smiled?
Quinn felt a presence behind her and started for her hilt as she turned to face one of the largest men she’d ever seen. “Jesus.”
The sword was half unsheathed when the huge young man, easily closer to seven feet tall than six foot, backhanded Quinn, sending her crashing into empty crates.
“Stay down,” the little boy said. To the giant he said, “She’s a girl, Arracht.”
Quinn wiped her bloody lip with the back of her hand as she rose up on one knee. “Did you just tell me to—”
The giant suddenly took four steps forward as Tavish bowled into him. The giant lurched forward but did not fall down. Instead, he grabbed Tavish with a hand as large as Tavish’s head and flung him against a wall that broke under Tavish’s weight.
“Son of a bitch!” Tavish yelled, slowly rising to his feet. “Now you’ve gone and done it, ya fuckin’ beast. I’m gonna kill you, you mother fucking troll!”
The giant stood erect, his eyes cast over at the boy.
Quinn slowly rose, her short sword drawn.
“Uh uh, lad,” Tavish growled. “This huge bastard is mine.”
When Arracht took a step toward Tavish, Tavish swung his left arm with all his might, connecting with the giant’s chin. His head snapped back, but he didn’t even budge.
Tavish…the Scot known as a man who could knock a man out with just one punch hadn’t even stunned this man-boy.
Tavish stared, slack-jawed. “Shite.”
Arracht brought his fist back to punch Tavish, when Quinn drove her short sword into his huge bare foot.
Arracht howled like a wounded animal and would have brought his fist down on Quinn’s head had he not seen Tavish grab the boy at knifepoint. “Touch her and the boy dies. Right here. Right now.”
The boy struggled for a moment before Quinn pulled her sword out and struck the tip against the giant’s chest. “Back off.” She kept the tip on his chest as he slowly walked backwards. “Keep going.”
The giant took two steps back, his eyes never leaving the boy’s.
“Verra good. Now. First things first.” Quinn held her hand, palm up, out to the boy. “My coin.”
The boy pulled the purse from his pants and dropped the bag into her hand.
“Secondly. Do you know who I am? Who we are?”
“Grace O’Malley?”
Quinn grinned. “No. I am not she. I am, however, a captain of a pirate ship.” Placing the coin purse back into her pocket, she wiped off the blade of her short sword on a piece of linen she picked up off the ground. “Now, young pickpocket, we shall return you to your parents.”
“Don’t have none.”
“Don’t have any. Being poor isn’t a choice. Poor language skills are.” She let her gaze roam from the giant to the boy and back again. “So you have no parents. What about…” Quinn pointed at Arracht with her sword.
“He don’t neither.”
“He doesn’t, either, sir. Always address your elders with respect.”
The boy frowned. “Sir? But you’s a girl.”
Quinn outwardly grimaced. “You’s is a word. Yes, I am a female, but my crew prefers to call me sir.”
Tavish released the boy. “If yer giant friend makes a move, he’ll be dead before ya can bat an eye, so keep him still.”
The boy nodded. “I understand. Arracht, stand down, will ya?”
The giant nodded and backed away.
“What’s your name?” Quinn asked.
“Jacob.”
“So, Jacob, you and Arracht travel together without parents?”
Jacob nodded. His face was dirty, he wore very worn shoes, and his clothes were nothing but filthy rags.
“And you steal for a living.”
Jacob shrugged. “Sometimes.”
“Hmm. Why did you steal from me this time?”
Jacob shrugged. “Hungry.”
“Ah. I see. How about this. Tavish and I will buy you both supper and you can tell us your story while you fill your bellies.”
Jacob squinted at Quinn. “Why would ya do that?”
Wandering over into the middle of the group came Maggie. She walked right up to Jacob and held her hand out. “These men are with me, young man. They are offering you and your friend here a hot meal for your story. Do not be disrespectful. Accept the meal, say thank you, and come along.”
Jacob put his hand into Maggie’s, and she started down the street, winking at Quinn as she walked by. “And bring your friend.”
Arracht turned and followed limping as he did and leaving Quinn and Tavish staring at each other.
“She soothes the savage beast,” Tavish said. “It’s her gift.”
Quinn shrugged. “I guess so. I mean, she soothed you, right? But Arracht? You know what that word means, right? It means monster. That can’t be his real name.”
“Well, lad, come along now, and let’s find out.”
Several times during the eating of the stew, Maggie or Kaylish had to slow Jacob down because he was shoveling it in so fast.
“There’s plenty more where that came from, son, so slow yer horses,” Maggie said softly. “I want you to breathe in between bites, ya hear me?”
Jacob shoveled more stew into his mouth, but before he could get any more on his spoon, Arracht’s hand shot out and grabbed Jacob’s wrist. For a moment, the two locked eyes, Arracht’s fingers digging into the boy’s flesh.
“Fine. Let me go.”
Arracht raised an eyebrow and looked over at Maggie.
Jacob slowly nodded and then, to Quinn’s surprise, apologized to Maggie.
Arracht released Jacob—his fingerprints red on Jacob’s wrist. Then Arracht continued eating.
Everyone glanced around at each other. Jacob finished his bowl and politely asked for another.
Arracht glanced up and nodded approvingly.
When Jacob slowed down eating, Maggie asked the question Quinn had been waiting for. “Where are your parents?”
“Dead.”
“Any other family?”
“No.”
“So it’s just you and… Arracht?”
“Yep.”
Maggie looked to Quinn, who picked up the questioning. “Is Arracht your brother?”
“Nope.”
“Just a friend?”
Jacob’s spoon paused in midair. “He’s a good friend. My best friend.”
“How old are you both?”
“Almost eleven. Arracht is older.”
Obviously.
Quinn gauged his age to be closer to twenty. It was hard to tell. His blond hair hung to his shoulders, and his short beard looked like it had been cut with a dull knife. His most outstanding feature was his deep blue eyes that keenly took everything in around him.
“Do you speak?” Quinn asked Arracht.
Arracht looked up and slowly shook his head.
“He can, I think, but he doesn’t,” Jacob said.
The tavern door opened and Gallagher ran in to show Quinn the octopus one of the vendors gave her. When she saw Jacob, she came to a dead stop. “Hi!” Her eyes lit up like Quinn had never seen, and suddenly, Kaylish’s words came flooding back to her.
Jacob barely glanced at her, but Arracht’s face broke into a huge grin.
Quinn knelt down next to Gallagher and made introductions.
Jacob immediately returned his attention to his bowl, but Arracht stood and bowed, making Gallagher giggle.
“He is gigantic and so much like a Prince.” Gallagher said. “Prince Arracht.”
Maggie leaned over to Quinn and whispered, “Love at first sight.”
When everyone was seated, Quinn continued her questions. “Do you two have a home?”
“Yes,” Jacob replied.
Arracht whipped around and slammed a fist on the table.
Everyone jerked.
Jacob lowered his eyes. “No. We don’t.”
“Is that why you picked my pocket? That’s how you live, aye?”
Jacob stared at her a moment and then nodded.
Quinn rose and motioned for Maggie and Kaylish to join her away from the table. “I want to bring them on board.”
Kaylish looked surprised. Maggie did not. “Ya want a young one for Gallagher to play with.”
Quinn nodded. “It can’t be good for her to be with men all the time… or even Kaylish. She needs a playmate.”
Kaylish nodded. “I love the idea. I think that is brilliant, but what about Arracht?”
“Seriously? Tavish punched him in the face and he barely moved.”
“Oh my,” Maggie said softly. “Did you know my husband can knock a man out with one punch?”
Kaylish’s eyes grew bigger. “Oh. I did not know.”
“Well, he can, and this one barely moved,” Maggie added. “That’s what you’re thinkin’, eh, Callaghan?”
“Why not? We’re pretty much a bunch of misfits enna way, aye? Why not them? A pickpocket and a giant might prove handy.”
“I think having another young one on board would be wonderful for Gallagher.”
Quinn turned to Maggie. “Even if we are to be on the seas for the next two months?”
Maggie looked around Quinn at the duo. “So you’ve made up your mind about going to the New World, eh? Tavish thought you might.”
“As long as Robert roams free, we will always be at risk. I want time.”
“Time? It’s been years, my dear. How much more time do you need before you are forced into a final battle with him? Won’t he be free when we return?”
Quinn shrugged. “Possibly. Should he die before we return, then we would never be suspect. I could go on without casting a single glance over my shoulder.”
Maggie tilted her head. “Oh. My. Well, then, aye. If we know he will meet an untimely death while we are away…then I say the crew will happily go with you to the New World if they believe doin’ so will keep Gallagher and ya safe.”
Quinn ran her hand through her hair. “I believe it will. I have a new plan to rid Ireland of Robert if he is still alive, but that plan will take weeks to unfold. In the meantime, I say we take that box to the New World and line our pockets along the way.”
“I’ll go see some merchants. Is there enna thing we can get ya?”
Quinn glanced over at Jacob and Arracht. “Please purchase new clothing for both of them.” Handing Maggie her coins, Quinn walked back to where Jacob and Arracht sat, their bellies bulging, their bowls empty. “What say you to working the next four months on board my ship?”
Two hours before they were going to set sail, the Malendroke pulled into Galway looking in need of a great many repairs. The sails were torn, the masts battered and splintered, and the hull had taken a beating from multiple cannon balls. She’d clearly been in a battle or two and limped back into port.
“Looks like Grace got out of that battle in the nick of time,” Fitz said as he stood on the dock with Quinn as the Malendroke slid into the docks.
“Or did she? I’ve never seen the Mal look that bad. Do you… do you think she’s all right?”
“Captain O’Malley? Aye. She’s a tough old bird, that one. Will take more than cannons to sink her.” Fitz studied the larger ship and sighed. “But she’s fairly beaten up.”
Quinn nodded, her thoughts still on the poor shape of the ship.
“Only the Scots haven’t made it back to Galway,” Fitz reported. “Except, of course, fer Big Red.”
Quinn bowed her head slightly. “Seanie and Logan ought to be back by now.”
In truth, Quinn did not expect the mercenary Galloglaighs to return. They were not sailors and very uncomfortable onboard ships. Her glaighs, or glass as it was pronounced, had bonded with her after she’d fallen in love with one of their seconds, a laoch cuidich named Evan, a woman who, like Quinn, was a female living as a male in a male world.
“I’ll wager a couple quid they don’t return.”
“Seanie and Logan will be back,” Quinn said softly. “They’re part of us now.” Quinn waited and watched as Grace O’Malley bellowed orders across the deck.
“Ya oughtta go up and see her. Ya know she won’t be down fer a couple hours. I bet she’d be happy to see ya.”
Five minutes later, Quinn joined Grace O’Malley on the battered and splintered deck of the Malendroke. She had never seen the ship so broken and disheveled.
Much like Grace appeared at this moment.
“Callaghan! I wondered how ya made it outta that horrible battle. I thought fer sure those Spaniards were gonna dismantle Elizabeth’s ships. Who knew how salty those English sailors were.” Grace stared up at one of the torn masts. “We barely made it out alive ourselves.”
“We nearly didn’t make it.”
“Was that Killigrew I saw who came to help?”
“Aye.”
“Is she all right? Are you all right?”
“Oh, aye. She came in the nick of time. What’s going on with the Mal?” Quinn glanced around the deck. She had never seen the Malendroke appear so bedraggled, the men so quiet and defeated.
“We took a number of hits, we did, but not one shed blood save a few splinters here and there. Caught on fire a couple of times, but the crew proved capable. We came home fer repairs and to resupply. You?”
Quinn inhaled deeply—slightly nervous about telling Grace the truth. “We are headed to the New World.”
The only sound Quinn heard in reply was the flapping of an errant sail.
When Grace finally replied, her voice was low and deep. “Ya can’t escape yer problems by runnin’ from ’em, Callaghan.”
“My pro—”
“Evan, Robert, Becca, the wee lass yer in charge of now. Yer plate is full, yer heart heavy. I can see it in yer eyes. Hard enough captainin’ a big ship in times like these, but to have all ya got on yer plate?” she shook her head. “Four months at sea will either kill ya or heal ya. Only time will tell.”
“That’s the truth.”
Grace’s eyes softened. “Yer gonna have to deal with Robert. I know what it would mean to have to kill the girl’s kin, but that man has proven to be very patient, indeed.”
“His patience has run out. He has been poisoning Lord Moynihan.”
The blood drained from Grace’s face as she whipped around. The Moynihans and O’Malleys went way back. They were allies in the worst of times.
“Are ya certain?”
“Aye. And I took care of it. Not Robert, but Lord Moynihan is being cared for by Bronwen.”
“Ah yes, your healer. Well met, Callaghan. Again, you have proven to be a very capable captain. Ya even left the battle at the right time. I shoulda followed suit, but my ire got the best of me. Not the best decision I ever made. Jumped home, we did to make repairs and take a breather. Glad I did if Robert thinks he can kill my old friend. Something needs to change.”
“I can see that. So now what?”
“Now, I take my crew to the Rock and give ’em time to eat, drink, and be merry. Celebrate life while I figure out what I can do to assure Lord Moynihan remains safe from that bastard.”
“That’s a good plan. We work them hard, Grace. Too hard sometimes.”
She grinned. “They need hard work, Callaghan, or they’ll end up in prison… or worse. Don’t ever regret givin’ a man somethin’ worthwhile to do. Ever.”
“Aye, but four months away? We’ve never been gone that long.”
Grace turned to watch her crew unload. “Politics and religion will kill us, Callaghan. Already, our clans are dyin’ and chieftains are sellin’ their newborns fer English titles. I’ve seen Elizabeth’s strength these past weeks, and I’ll deny sayin’ this…but I don’t know that we can best her.”
“Is that why you would support us going to the New World?”
“Well, I think there are riches to be made there, yes, and the fact that until ya deal with Robert, you will always be wonderin’ if everra shadow ya see is him lyin’ in wait. Believe me—that’s no way
to live. So, tell me what happened.”
Quinn told Grace the whole story about Robert and his plans.
When she finished, the color slowly returned to Grace’s cheeks. “Then why are ya still here? Robert sure will be comin’ after ya.”
“I’ve not seen or heard of Robert since we left Black Rock. He is either out looking for him, or he knows it would be foolish to attack us here.”
Grace rubbed her chin. “He should have come at ya, especially knowin’ yer ship is docked. There’s only one reason why he hasn’t.”
Quinn waited.
“He can’t.”
“Can’t?”
“Ya say ya kilt at least two dozen of his men?”
Quinn nodded. “At least. And there are others in employ of the Lord who are still aligned secretly with him.”
“He can’t afford to take those loyal men from the castle in pursuit of you. Ya decimated his troops as it were. It’s gonna take him a bit to reinforce those left. He is afraid of you, Callaghan. He knows ya have a great many allies and friends here. If he is gonna come at you, her needs to have the numbers.”
“And by then, we’ll be long gone.”
“Good. Ya can’t kill an English nobleman, Callaghan, no matter what ya think he’s done, and ya risk losing the faith and love of Gallagher if you kill her father. It’s best if ya get out of Ireland fer a while. Show the men some of the world. Go on a pirate adventure. The New World is as good as enna place to spread yer wings.”
“I’ve never been out to sea that long, Grace. I would be most appreciative if you would help ensure we are ready.”
Turning once more to face Quinn, Grace smiled softly. “One day, Callaghan, yer gonna be a better captain than I ever was. I’ll take a look in yer hold, but then, we are gonna break bread, like the old times, and toast to strong winds and cool breezes.”
And that was exactly what they did.
It was a bittersweet goodbye as Quinn waved to her mentor and friend, who left the port to travel an hour away for supplies.
“She loves ya like no other,” Becca said, sliding her arm around Quinn’s waist. “Yer a hard one to ferget, Quinn Callaghan, and not ever the Scourge of the Seas can get ya out of her heart. She misses ya mightily.”
When Quinn started to respond, her face was inches from Becca’s. She could smell the mint from the tea she’d had for breakfast. She could feel the heat from her skin. Quinn backed up slightly. “I miss her, too. The Malendroke will always be my first real home, but in truth, Becca, I love being the captain of my own ship.”
Dead Man's Chest (The Plundered Chronicles Book 5) Page 7