by Merry Farmer
The following morning, Senga awoke before Ruairí. The night before had been too much for him, even if he would never admit it. Senga dressed and slipped from the cabin to find Tomas or Snake Eye. She found both playing passe-dix, a game played with three six-sided dice, and it was clear Tomas was winning. She grinned and walked to them, hoping a winsome smile would set the right tone for her request.
“Good morning.”
“Good morning to you, Senga,” Snake Eye smiled and showed his missing teeth. Senga realized she rarely noticed the gaps anymore.
“I have a favor to ask one of you. Perhaps the loser, or even the winner of the next hand, might help me.”
Despite her sunny disposition, both men turned wary gazes toward her. She knew she had to tread carefully but pushed on despite growing nervous.
“Could either of you row me over to the Lady Grace? I would like to see Caragh and speak with her.”
“Does the captain know you want to go?”
“The captain is fast asleep. Going ashore was a strenuous task yesterday, along with hosting his family, so he is catching up on his shut-eye.”
Senga refused to say more to keep Ruairí from sounding weak even if she trusted both men. Tomas shook his head.
“No, Senga. Without the captain’s permission, I’m not taking you anywhere.”
“Same,” Snake Eye shook his head with more vigor than Tomas.
“Should I ask one of the other men?”
Both came to their feet.
“Absolutely not. You know Captain would have your hide and ours as well if you did that,” Tomas looked around to make sure no one overheard them.
“Then help me lower the dinghy, and I’ll take myself over there. The water’s calm, and I’ve rowed plenty of times in my life.”
Tomas and Snake Eye gritted their teeth before they each rolled the dice again. Tomas lost and was surly as he lowered the dinghy, then the rope ladder. Senga nimbly followed him into the dinghy, but Tomas refused to look at her as he rowed the small expanse between the boats. He called up to announce their arrival, and Senga saw Rowan run to the rail. He looked anxious, and Senga realized that he must have been frightened that something happened to Ruairí.
“Is Caragh awake? I would visit with her if she is,” Senga called up and saw Caragh’s face poke around Rowan’s shoulder.
“Senga! Good morning. I’m here.”
Senga scrambled up the ladder and hugged Caragh once she was on deck.
“Rowan, don’t worry. He’s fine and was fast asleep when I left him. I haven’t seen Caragh in so long, and we didn’t have much time to speak just the two of us last night. I was hoping to visit with her.”
“Of course, but I hope you let someone else know where you went. I can imagine what Ruairí will do if he awakes to find out you aren’t aboard the ship,” Rowan warned.
“Snake Eye knows Tomas rowed me over. Would it be possible to send Tomas back and have one of your men return me? I don’t want to keep Tomas waiting or from his duties,” though Senga knew he had none, since he was playing dice.
“That would be fine. Skinny can take you back.”
Senga leaned over and told Tomas he should return. He looked doubtful, but when Rowan reassured him, he relented.
“Come below. We can talk in the cabin.”
It was not long before both women had swapped stories about how they came to be attached to two of the most feared pirates sailing through Europe. Caragh squirmed when she explained how she met Ruairí, and Senga could not believe how angry she grew toward Rowan. “Inauspicious circumstances” was an understatement, considering Rowan tried to trade Caragh to his cousin, and Ruairí nearly ended up coupling with Caragh before Rowan stopped them.
“He’s different now though,” Caragh puzzled. “When I met him, there was a coldness to his eyes. He scared me when I thought Rowan would give me to him. He is Rowan’s mirror image, but anger was simmering below the surface.”
“But you would have gone with him,” there was no accusation in Senga’s tone even if jealousy nipped at her heels.
“If I hadn’t any other choice. I would have made the best of another situation beyond my control. I’m just thankful that Rowan couldn’t go through with it.”
“And everything is resolved between the two of you?”
Caragh shrugged, “It improves every day, and I know I made the right choice marrying him. Speaking of marriage…”
Caragh gave Senga a pointed look, but Senga could not meet her cousin’s eye.
“That’s what I came to speak to you about. I don’t know that Ruairí will ever ask me to marry him. We’ve never spoken of it, but he said he loves me. He said so just before the battle, and he’s alluded to it since he awoke.” Senga rubbed her forehead. “I know I love him, too. And that’s the reason I must leave him.”
“What?” Caragh broke in.
“I prayed constantly while Ruairí was unconscious, and I pledged to sacrifice my happiness for his health. Caragh, every man in my life has either died or abandoned me. My father, my husband, my son. They all died. My uncle and even Alfred abandoned me. Neither my uncle nor my cousin cared for me, not really. I’m nearly convinced I’m a curse. Either way, I made that pledge to God, and I must honor it.”
Caragh gawked at Senga for so long that Senga began to squirm.
“That is the most ridiculous pile of shite, cousin. Not the part about your family dying; that’s just a fact, and so is how your uncle treated you. Alfred had no backbone to stand up to his father. But the part about you leaving Ruairí because he’s getting better is absurd. I believe you prayed, and I believe you think God healed Ruairí in answer to your promise. But I do not believe God would ever intend for you to make such a sacrifice.”
“Whether or not you believe doesn’t change my mind. Will you help me go ashore? I can’t wait until we reach Glasgow. He will be back on his feet by then. I won’t be able to slip away.”
“Do you even hear yourself? You don’t want him to be well yet. You have to slip away. Your own words show you know what you want to do is wrong. Senga, no.”
“Caragh, it’s easy for you to say ‘no.’ But you didn’t see the man you love come close to dying before your eyes and then watch him fading away for a fortnight. I was sure I would lose him. It was unwillingness to accept it that kept me going. I want him to live, but I don’t want to be the reason for his suffering.”
“Again, such shite. If anything, you’re the only reason he isn’t still suffering. I saw the way he looked at you, watched you the entire evening. The man is head over heels in love with you. What do you think your running away will do to him?”
“Keep him alive.”
“Bah,” Caragh waved her hand and stood up. She paced about the cabin as she kept looking over at Senga.
“Caragh, I’m going with or without your help. I figured the least I could do was let you know since we reconnected after so long. I didn’t want to just disappear on you.”
“You wouldn’t do that to me, but you would do it to Ruairí.”
Senga clenched her hands into a fist and tried to remain calm. Caragh watched Senga and relented after debating with herself.
“Fine. I don’t agree with you. I definitely don’t condone this, but I will help you. I will speak to Skinny about taking us ashore. I should collect medicinals, just as you did. I haven’t had a chance, but after hearing about the wounds sustained between Ruairí and his crew it would be wise for me to do that. Once we’re on shore, we can decide what you’ll do next.”
Senga walked around the table and embraced her cousin.
“Thank you,” she whispered.
The women were in the dinghy being taken ashore within a quarter hour.
Ruairí stretched, then groaned as he felt the stabbing pain of his stitches being pulled. He looked around the cabin, but Senga was not there. He smiled as he thought about the previous night. It had been wonderful to see his cousin and to know that things
were working out for Rowan and Caragh. He liked the young woman, but he was thankful he had not brought her aboard his ship. He might never have met Senga, or if he had, he certainly would not have invited her to come with him. His smile broadened as he thought about their lovemaking the night before. It was unhurried compared to their usual all-consuming need to come together. Ruairí knew he should not have spilled his seed inside her, but the image of her standing beside the cradle was even more vivid than it had been in her cottage. Ruairí would ask her to marry him when he brought her back to the cabin.
Ruairí gingerly stood and pulled on his leine with minimal grunts. His leggings resulted in several curses and a moan, though he would never admit to these. He braced himself against the bulkheads as he made his way to the stairs. His crew cheered when they saw him emerge onto the deck. Ruairí waved but searched for Senga. He spotted Tomas and Snake Eye playing dice while Kyle stood at the helm. He would have to reward his first mate for doing such a fine job of leading the crew while he convalesced.
“Morning,” Ruairí greeted Tomas and Snake Eye, but when neither man would look him in the eye, he searched for Senga again. “Where is she?”
This was a growl, not a question. He continued to scan the deck, but he knew he would not find her.
“I warned the lass you would get your dander up when you couldn’t find her,” Snake Eye muttered.
“Then you had better tell me where she is.”
“I took her over to the Lady Grace, Captain. She asked to see her cousin.”
Ruairí gritted his teeth to keep from yelling.
“And you are back now, playing dice. You just left her there.”
“Your cousin said he would arrange for one of his men to bring her back.”
“And you thought I would be fine with that. Some strange man in a small boat with my--” Ruairí did not know how to finish his thought. He threw his hands into the air. “No, I’m bluidy well not fine with her being without someone I trust.”
“You trust your cousin, don’t you?” Tomas’s eyes widened as he realized what he said aloud. “My apologies, Captain. I’ll lower the dinghy and fetch her right now.”
“I’ll go with you. I have words for her that will not wait until we return.”
Ruairí almost bit through his lower lip as he climbed down the rope into the dinghy. He held his hand against his ribs, the pressure relieving some pain.
Chapter 13
It surprised Caragh and Senga how easy it was to convince Rowan to allow them to go ashore with Skinny. Caragh was quiet for most of the way, lost in thought about what awaited her when she returned without her cousin. Senga, in turn, looked to the shore and tried to see if there was a town or even a village visible. The trio walked a couple of miles inland, the women gathering plants and placing them in a basket Caragh carried.
“What are you going to do now?” Caragh asked, looking over her shoulder at Skinny to be sure her voice did not carry.
“I’m uncertain. Do you see the smoke against the clouds to the left? I think that must be a village. It’s too much for one cottage. I can’t stay there, but I can see if someone will take me further north.”
“And you’ll trust whoever you ask? What do you have to trade?” Caragh glowered at Senga to warn her not to include herself in the commodities she might have.
“I didn’t bring anything of value with me when I left Canna. I have my knives from Ruairí’s chest. Several of them have jewel-encrusted handles.”
“Did he give those to you? Would you add thievery to your list of wrongdoings?” Caragh lifted something from around her neck. “Rowan has let me choose various pieces of jewelry from the chests he has kept. This one should bring you a fair amount if you can find a jeweler in a decent-sized town. Otherwise, use these rings.”
Caragh pulled off two rings from her right hand and handed the three pieces of jewelry to Senga.
“You’re getting too close to that village, my ladies,” Skinny called out. “Someone may see us.”
Skinny had given them privacy to talk, so there was quite a distance between the cousins and the pirate. Both women pretended not to hear him as they continued to wander and gather plants.
“We have to distract him long enough for me to slip away.”
“You have to distract him. I’m complicit, but I’m not doing any more to aid in this insane plan of yours.”
“Skinny?” Senga called to him. When he approached, she pointed to several trees near a deer path they could see. “Do you see the tree to the far right? I believe it’s an alder tree. Could you help us by carving some bark from it? The trunk is hard, making it a difficult task.”
Skinny looked between the two women and nodded his head. Caragh handed him a small sack from her basket. They waited until Skinny was within the tree line before Senga gave Caragh a tight squeeze and darted in the village's direction.
Ruairí could feel his temper rising with each splash of the oars. He saw Rowan wave as they approached his cousin’s boat. “Where’s Senga?”
“Good morning to you, too, Ruairí. She and Caragh went ashore with Skinny to collect medicinals. Caragh realized it was a good idea to have a stock on hand, and I guess Senga needed to replenish her supplies.”
“You let them go ashore with only one man? Do you not remember where we are?” Ruairí wanted to scream. They anchored off the coast of Inverkip, at what appeared to be a sleepy coastal village, but both Ruairí and Rowan knew it was a smuggling stronghold. One where they were not welcome. Both had raised their white sails and the banners that showed they sailed under the marque of the Earl of Argyll for the express purposes of disguise. “I assume Caragh doesn’t know where we are. I know Senga doesn’t. What if they meet someone and mention who they are with?”
“I think both women know not to admit they sail with the MacNeill cousins.”
“You think, but you don’t know. Bluidy hell, Rowan. If anything happens to Senga, I won’t forgive you.”
“I’m coming down.”
Senga looked back twice to be sure Skinny was not following her. The woods still hid him, and Caragh appeared to be looking at the ground for plants. Senga’s legs burned, but she pushed herself until she reached the village outskirts, where she slowed to catch her breath. She looked around and spotted the tavern. She would not go there immediately, but she knew she might have to if she could find no other sources of aid. As she approached the town square, she realized it was market day. She casually wound her way through the stalls until she found a jeweler who looked to know his trade and had items of similar value to what she carried.
“Good day,” she spoke in low tones to hide her Hebridean accent.
She must not have hidden it well enough, because the man’s face took on a skeptical appearance.
“Good morning, lass. Is there something you are looking for?”
“Not exactly. I was hoping to make a trade.”
“Trade or sale?” The man ran an assessing gaze over her.
“Sale. My husband passed, and now I am in need of funds.” Both statements were true, even if she made them sound connected.
“Let’s see what you have.”
Senga laid one ring on the stall. The man peered at it from various angles.
“How did you come by such a fine piece? It looks French.”
“It is,” Senga prayed he was not testing her. “My husband traded there and brought it back.” That was near the truth.
“I’ll give you twenty shillings.”
Senga smiled warmly, “Then you will give it back, and I will move on. Thirty shillings.”
“Twenty-five.”
“Done.” Senga covered the ring with her hand until she received a pouch of coins. She discreetly tied the pouch to the laces of her skirt before hiding it within the folds of her arisaid. She had been torn between which plaid to wear. Senga could not bring herself to leave the MacNeill plaid behind. She found she was not sentimental about her MacLeod or Sorley plaid,
but she could not walk away without something from Ruairí. Senga moved on to several more stalls where she bought food and a wine skin. She kept an eye open for any merchant who seemed to be preparing to leave. Senga found an older couple who struggled to load their donkey cart. She walked over and helped without being asked.
“Lass, you are a kind one,” the old woman offered her a gummy smile.
“It’s my pleasure,” Senga smiled back
“Would you like to pick something from our wares?” the old man asked.
The man tempted Senga since the couple sold woolens, but she would rather they allow her to travel with them than consider stockings.
“I’m not in need of aught, but I appreciate your offer.” She pretended to look at their crates. “From where do you hail? Where do you go next?”
The woman seemed happy to find someone to talk to when her husband only grunted at Senga. “Auchenbothie is our next market.”
Senga had not a clue which direction the town lay, but she hoped it was not taking them closer to Glasgow. “Is that a busy market?”
“Nay. We came to the coast from Glasgow, but now head east and our home.”
East. That is the wrong direction. But Auchenbothie may be inland. If that’s the case, Rowan and Ruairí will not be near the village.
“Do you not stay along the coast?”
“Nay. We have already traded there and will go inland to make our way home sooner. Where do you go, lass?”
Senga racked her mind for any place she had heard of near Glasgow that was not the city itself. She remembered a man who came to the Three Merry Lads who claimed to know the Earl of Argyll because he hailed from the village of Kilmacolm.
“Kilmacolm.”
“Near to where we travel,” the old woman responded.
“Aye. Perhaps I could be of help to you, since we travel in the same direction.”
The husband chimed in at her offer of help.
“That would be a fine thing, lass. We shall ride while you manage the donkey.”