“On that, you can rest assured.”
When the Indians were gone, Quinn turned back to William. “Once I give this box to Lady Diane, I must return to the island. My men have been attacked by the Croatoans, and—”
“And they are most probably dead. That tribe is, unlike the other tribes we’ve met. They kill for the pure sport of it.”
“So it may seem. As a clan member in Ireland, Sir William, I can understand the need to protect one’s homeland from intruders. Be that as it may, I must get back to my men, and I will do so at any cost.”
William exchanged glances with his men.
“Any cost?”
“Sir, if you know of me, you know that I am loyal, tenacious, and fear nothing. I will return to my ship with or without help.”
“You should fear these woods, Grace O’Malley. There are animals the likes of which you’ve never seen in Ireland. There are black bears that will tear you open with one swipe of their paw. Bobcats and cougars, which are large cats that prowl these woods in silence. There are coyotes, which are much like large dogs who hunt at dusk. If that isn’t enough, there are feral pigs with tusks that will disembowel you, and then there’s the red wolf, a creature more demon than animal that will tear your throat out with one bite. And that’s just the animals.”
“I understand.”
“I don’t believe you do. As far as we can tell, the Croatoan are enemies of the Cherokee and Catawba tribes. These tribes are much like your clans, I’m afraid. We have managed to make peace with the latter by trade. Unless you have spent time with these people, you will not know one tribe from the other. You would, in essence, be gambling your life away. Come with us. Deliver your cargo, and we can discuss the most expedient and safest way to return you to your crew.”
Quinn took the reins and followed William deeper into the woods.
Less than half an hour later, they came to a second clearing near a large creek running along the outskirts of the small colony. Six log cabins surrounded a large pulpit ringed with wooden logs and stones. A second fire pit had a huge cast iron pot hanging over the fire.
“Welcome to our home.”
“Are you the leader here?”
“Me? Oh no. Not even remotely. You see, Captain O’Malley, we did not move here to get away from the Croatoans. We left Roanoke to escape the English.”
Quinn sat up straighter. “I’m sorry. Did you just say you are running away from the English? Your own people?”
“Yes. We all came here to get away from the oppressive nature of our English queen. We built the colony exactly as you saw it, and left the carving to divert anyone following us.”
“You’re sending anyone doing so to their death.”
“Indeed, one could look at it that way. One could also say we are protecting our lives. It’s a sword that cuts both ways, Captain.” William slid off his horse and handed the reins to a young man.
“Stay with your horse, Captain, until I can bring Diane to you. It has been a very long time since a stranger walked among us. I do not wish to make the other colonists nervous.”
Quinn dismounted her horse. “I understand. I’ll wait right here.”
Watching the men walk to the small village, Quinn held firmly to the box she’d been tasked to deliver, wondering just what it could contain and wishing she had peered inside it.
She had never expected to find English attempting to escape England. These people traveled for two months to the wilds of the New World in order to be free from Elizabethan reign.
Free.
She wondered if some of her men would find such freedom alluring or enticing. No more wars. No plundering. No English, Spanish, or French. No religious persecutions.
The thought made Quinn smile.
What if this New World was everything Ireland was not? So far, she found the muted greens sort of beautiful. The woods, while terrifying in their strangeness, smelled wonderful and clean.
This was a very different place with so much potential. Of course, the native people were a bit scary, but weren’t their tribes much like her clans? People striving to hold onto their way of life while invaders plundered their land? They weren’t violent. They were fighting to keep their way of life and their traditions.
Yes, she understood them all too well.
From one of the small cottages came William and a small woman who looked a great deal like Lady Killigrew.
The woman came to an abrupt halt when she saw Quinn.
“Diane, this is the Pirate Queen of Connacht, Grace O’Malley.”
Diane looked at William then back at Quinn. “William, may I speak with… Grace…alone?”
“Certainly. I’ll be by the horses.”
“Thank you.” Diane stepped up to Quinn and lowered her voice. “William said you sailed two months to bring me a box from my sister. Is this true?”
Quinn held it out to her. “I did. Lady Killigrew rescued me and my men. As a favor to her, I brought this box here.”
Diane took the box but did not open it. “That is quite a return of a favor.”
“My men and ship are quite precious to me.”
“I see. Then, why do you let William believe you are Grace O’Malley?”
Quinn’s gut tightened. “Because I am?”
Diane smiled softly. “Grace and my sister have met several times. I was visiting once when Grace was with her. You are far younger than the woman I saw, and…” Diane chuckled. “Grace does not know English. Yours is impeccable. So. Who are you?”
“My apologies. William made the assumption and I allowed it. I was once her second. I now command my own ship. My name is Quinn Callaghan. Captain.”
“Good to meet you, Captain Callaghan.” Diane glanced down at the box. “I wanted my sister to come with us, but she loves what she does. She has always taken such good care of me, and now, I have a feeling I know what is in here.”
“It’s so light, it almost feels as if there is nothing in there.”
Diane glanced up from the box. “Thank you for risking your life to bring it to us.”
“I’d love to know what it was I brought.”
Diane opened the box carefully and peered in, a huge smile spreading across her face. “Oh my. This… this is better than gold.”
Quinn held herself back from leaning over to peer inside.
Diane obliged her curiosity by turning the box around.
“Are those…” Quinn gazed down into the box before looking up at Diane. “They look like seeds.”
“Not just any seeds, Captain. Cannabis seeds.”
Quinn blinked. “I’m sorry. Did you say seeds? My crew and I sailed for two months to bring you seeds?”
“Captain, unlike other crops, this travels well, especially given the length of time it takes to get it back to England. The hemp plant has been used by the Spanish and Portuguese settlers for years. My sister is well aware not only its medicinal properties, but in its textile uses as well.” She glanced down at the seeds. “This is simply marvelous. You have no idea what this means to us as an independent colony. With these seeds as well as the tobacco we have been growing, we will become very, very wealthy.”
Quinn shook her head. “Had no idea.”
“Trust me, Captain, this is far better than gold.”
“I’m glad. Is there enna thing you want me to take back to your sister?”
Diane closed the box and reached into a pouch that hung from her waist. From it, she withdrew two smaller pouches. “One is for you, the other is for my sister.”
Quinn took both leather pouches, which were slightly larger than her fist. “Thank you. You can trust she will receive it.”
“Is there anything else I can do for you, Captain?”
Quinn glanced around the quaint living area. “You plan to expand with those who no longer wish to be English subjects?”
“Yes.”
“Then I would like to ask for land for enna of my men who would rather join you here and be f
ree of all the fighting and bloodshed. Perhaps you could use fighters with warrior hearts.”
“Interesting. Let me talk to William a moment.”
Quinn watched Diane walk back to where William stood. They put their heads together, and when she showed him the seeds, his face lightened up. Then he motioned to someone along the tree line to join them. It was a young native boy, not much older than Jacob.
When they finished their discussion, Diane and the young man returned to Quinn.
“Captain, this is Cecil. He is a member of the Croatoans who was left to die when he became ill. We saved him, and he has been our eyes and ears since. He will take you back to the island.”
“That would be wonderful. I fear for my crew’s safety. I fear the Croatoans. I need to get back as quickly as possible.”
“We understand that, and we will do the best we can to get you there safely. First, we need to make certain you have food and water for your journey. Please be patient. We can better prepare you for your trip. It won’t take but a moment.
When Diane retreated back to the fire, Quinn stepped closer to the young native boy. “You can call me Callaghan.”
He nodded, eyes wide.
“Yes, I am a woman, but I am a good captain. I am also a good rider, so run the horses as quickly as possible. Don’t worry about me. I’ll be right behind you.”
Cecil smiled. “I won’t go fast.”
“No. No. Go fast.”
“Cecil good rider. You… pirate.” He grinned.
“Indeed. You just ride. I’ll be right behind you.”
“We see.”
She liked him. He had a fire within she respected.
When Diane returned, she brought with her a satchel of food, some water, and additional arrows. “Cecil is a remarkable bowman. He is also a fast rider. If you need to slow down—”
“I won’t. I should be fine.”
Diane took Quinn’s hands in hers. “You are the bravest woman I’ve ever met to come all this way. These seeds will change everything for this colony—as well as…well…another group of people I am not at liberty to discuss with you, but you have brought us hope for a bright future. I wish you a safe journey and hope we meet again.”
“I’m sure we will.”
Diane handed Quinn a scroll. “Please give this to my sister with all my love.”
Tucking the scroll inside her jerkin, Quinn hugged Diane and stepped back. “You’re the courageous one, Diane. This… this New World is so very different from ours, yet you braved the ocean voyage, you traveled through foreign lands, you’ve escaped the clutches of England, and you are prospering.”
Diane blushed. “I come from hardy stock.”
“Well, Diane, thank you for lending me Cecil.”
“He’s a good boy. He will help get you there. Trust him. We do.”
“Thank you. Thank you for everything.” Mounting her horse, Quinn looked out at the colony. Yes, she was certain: Some of her men might enjoy living out their lives here. She would have to give her men that option.
Her men.
She couldn’t wait to get back to them.
If they were still alive.
He could ride, that was certain, but so could she. The first time she rode past him, he understood that she could truly ride and galloped by her at the first open grassland.
She had done what she’d told Lady Killigrew she would do. She just hoped she hadn’t cost her men their lives in the process.
They rode hard for almost four hours when she finally saw the ocean. She thought her heart would burst.
As she rode up to Cecil, she leaned over and pet her horse, who was sweaty and frothing.
“Good rider,” Cecil said.
“Thank you, but I don’t believe my horse can run across water.”
Cecil frowned. “It can’t.”
“Right. So how do we get to the island?”
“Come.” Kicking his horse’s flanks, Cecil took off for a small cove about a mile down the coast.
When Quinn pulled up next to him, she saw it. “That’s your boat?”
“Not boat. Dug out. Better than boat.”
Quinn eyed it dubiously. It appeared too long and slender to actually be of use. She thought it would tip over easily. “I don’t know if enna thing is better than a boat, but I don’t have much of a choice.”
Cecil frowned. “You have choice not to go.”
“Actually, I do not. I—” an arrow landed two feet behind her. Cecil shoved her to the ground.
“They have come.”
Quinn pulled out her long sword and tried to see where the arrow had come from.
“Over there. Behind rocks.”
She stared at the rocks but could see no one. “Where?”
He pointed.
When Quinn focused on the place he was pointing, she was barely able to make out the top of the bow. “How on earth did you see that?”
He turned and looked quizzically at her before pounding his fist on his chest. “Because I am Sees All.”
Frowning, Quinn turned her head toward him. “Sees all?” she chuckled. “I thought it was…” She shook her head. “What do they call you for short?”
“For short?”
“Do they call you Sees?”
“No. My name is Wabi. It means to see. White people call me by white name.”
“Would you rather I call you Wabi?”
The young man’s grin said it all, but the arrow that landed a few feet to his right instantly erased it. “Cannot fire at him now. Waste of arrows.”
Quinn’s eyes scanned the area. “I can go around and get him from behind, but I fear there are others nearby.”
“Oh yes. Croatoan like wolves. Packs of six or seven.”
“Well, let’s get rid of the immediate thread and see what we need to do after that.”
Wabi jutted his chin to her sword. “You can use that?”
She nodded. “Probably better than you can use that. You just keep him where is so I can kill him from behind.”
Just as Quinn started to leave, Wabi grabbed her wrist. “They still on island, Captain. Not good.”
“Fortunately, Wabi, my men are.” Quinn scooted down the rocks and waded through the water, around the cliff, and quietly climbed up the rocks.
The native archer pulled his string back and fired toward Wabi.
Pulling one dagger out, Quinn released it. It landed in the native’s thigh. He yelped and dropped his bow.
Quinn was on him in an instant, running him through with her short sword. Looking up from the dead man, Quinn watched as Wabi fired arrow after arrow into the woods.
When an arrow kicked up dirt and sand in Wabi’s face, he fell backwards, dropping his bow.
Four natives came running out of the woods toward Wabi.
Pulling out her long sword, Quinn took off toward the running natives, the sun glinting off both swords.
“Over here!” Quinn yelled, running for the group.
The first turned, drew back his bow, and fired. The arrow whizzed past a running Quinn, who leapt into the fray, driving her sword into his neck. Pivoting, she sliced through the second man’s gut, spilling his intestines on the ground.
The third pulled an ax and brought it down toward Quinn’s head. She blocked it with her short sword in a loud clang, before slashing his arm off.
The fourth native came at her with a knife. She ran him through swiftly and easily.
As she gazed down at the four dead men, Wabi joined her. “You are good fighter. Very good.” Wabi rubbed more sand and dirt from his eye.
“Let’s get going before enna more come.”
Wabi nodded. “Come.”
Following Wabi, Quinn carefully got in the dugout and took the oar from Wabi.
“It is not far,” Wabi said, shoving off and then getting in behind her.
“I just want us to go as quickly as we can.”
“Then paddle.”
Quinn stifled a grin.
She liked this young man of few words. There was a quiet strength about him she really respected.
“Do you like living with the colonists?”
“They know not much. They eat dumb things and understand not the land.”
“What is there to understand?”
“The land gives and it takes. Know when to bend and when not to.”
Quinn was impressed. “Do most natives believe this?”
“Not most. All. White people think they own land. The land is us.”
“Fascinating.”
“Different is all.”
“So you don’t like it?”
“Wabi is fine. I like that.”
“I see.” Quinn felt her heart fill with each stroke that brought them closer to the island.
“You like ships, Captain?”
“No. I love ships. The salt air on my face, the wind in my hair. Moving where I want and when. That’s my freedom.”
“Sounds good.”
“It is.”
“Men follow you, a woman?”
Quinn pulled harder on her wooden oar, expertly carved from a hard wood. “Yes, they do.”
“Good captain?”
“I try.”
They rowed for a half hour in silence before Wabi said, “Your men. Do not expect them alive.”
“I have to believe.”
“No. Croatoan very…dangerous. Dangerous men.”
“Well, so are my men, Wabi. You’ll see.” Quinn inhaled deeply, a shadow of doubt cast upon her hope.
She’d sent them into the woods. She and she alone was responsible for the health and wellbeing of her crew. If they were, in fact, dead—she pushed the thought from her mind. She could not even begin to imagine what she would do if they were dead.
“Wabi?”
“Yes?”
“If… if they are… dead, I’ll need you to take me to Croatoan.”
“No.”
“Yes. I will need to make them pay for killing my men.”
“No. Wabi likes you, Captain. Croatoan is death. No death for you, my new friend.”
But that was just it. She would already be dead if her men were found butchered by natives. That would be a loss she would never recover from.
Never.
All she could do was seek retribution and vengeance.
“No worries, Wabi. My men are alive.”
Dead Man's Chest (The Plundered Chronicles Book 5) Page 13