Rockfleet (The Pirate Queen Book 0)

by Jennifer Rose McMahon

  Hugh's arms were bound above his head, tied to a wooden pole that his back leaned against. His legs splayed out on the ground. His swollen eyes and bruised face couldn't hide, even in the darkness of night. His chest rose and fell in sharp rhythm, as if struggling through each breath. It took every ounce of my energy to not run to him and untie his binds.

  Rí turned back to the clansmen and signaled with two fingers, then pointed in two directions. I followed his gestures and saw them. One man stationed at the far left and another, slumped at the right.

  My heart rate jumped to near bursting as my ears burned from the force of my pulse. A quaking shiver jolted through my body, awakening every muscle to its most alert stance. More gestures from Rí, including his ‘no kill’ command, and the clansmen knew their roles.

  Three of them crept around the left of the ridge and another three moved to the right. Aengus stayed with us. At Rí's signal, our men burst out of the silence of the calm night and sent confusion and alarm through the watchmen. In a matter of seconds, the watchmen were overtaken and gagged and blindfolded with leather binds.

  Seamus, our ironsmith, signaled for us to go to Hugh as he kept a knee on one of the squirming men. Blood trickled down his temple from a nasty bump on his head but it seemed he hadn’t even noticed the injury.

  Aengus and Rí cut at Hugh's binds as I untied his gag. His arms fell like bags of sand along his sides and he moaned in half-conscious delirium. Just as we removed him from the wooden pole, the others dragged the watchmen over and bound them to it.

  Anger seethed through me and guided my every task, fueling strength and ferocity with every breath. Hugh was a good man. I couldn't understand how they could do this to him. My teeth clenched to near shattering as I embraced a new feeling that coursed through my veins like venom.

  It was revenge.

  It consumed me. It changed me.

  "Come on." Rí encouraged Hugh to stand. "You gotta move, man. Get outta here." He pushed Hugh to his feet and rubbed his arms to get the blood back into them. He turned to Aengus and pointed to the direction of our escape. "You might need to carry hi..."

  Rí's words were cut short as the sound of other voices neared the ridge. My eyes shot wide like saucers as I looked to Rí for orders.

  "Get out of here! All of ye!" His hushed command blasted at us as he lifted Hugh and Aengus took him onto his shoulder.

  "You need to come with us!" I begged. "You’ll be welcome in our clan." I reached for him but he moved away, toward the ridge.

  "No. I can't." He turned to the sound of the voices closing in. "This is my clan."

  The message in his voice was steady and clear. He had made his choice. However distracted he may have been by me or however his heart played with his mind, he'd made his decision.

  My heart sank.

  Rí kept his eyes on me and his face fell with mine. "Go!" He gestured for me to follow the others out the back side of the ridge. They'd already made great distance. I hesitated, knowing every second was more valuable than the previous one.

  "Damn it, Maeve!" He ran his hand through his hair and looked up at the sky. "What are you doing ta me?"

  I stepped closer, not wanting to leave him. His rising angst frightened me though. Danger was closing in.

  Still, I didn’t run. My eyes locked on his and I couldn’t break away.

  "I’ll come find ya later,” he promised with a gentle tone and vulnerable honesty in his eyes. “Now just get out of here!"

  He turned his back to me, breaking eye contact, and headed toward the voices.

  "This way, lads! There's been a prisoner break!" he called to his approaching clansmen as I scrambled into the sheltering blanket of the dark night.

  Chapter 11

  We were battle-worn, broken and bruised, and the return journey to Rockfleet took twice as long as the first. With Hugh unable to ride his own horse and Seamus flopping around on his like a rag doll, we slowed our pace to walking.

  My heavy slump on my own horse proved I carried battle damage as well, but my injuries were internal. Crushed heart, difficulty breathing, constricted throat.

  Aengus watched me. He looked over with a sideways glance any chance he had. The squinted gaze proved he was trying to figure out my true connection to Rí. I’d surprised him.

  I supposed I’d have some explaining to do at some point and hoped to be able to keep it simple. Childhood friends, maybe.

  The jubilant sun rose high and bright above us, unaware of our weakened, battered condition, as we finally approached Rockfleet. Our alert line of watchmen closed ranks after letting us through and sounded a low, hollow blow of a horn to alert the tribe of our return. Children and dogs met us first with cheers and barks of elation.

  Aengus lowered Hugh into the waiting arms of our nurses, who whisked him away for healing. Poor Seamus saw no such treatment and was taunted for his woozy condition. As he dismounted, he lost his grip and slid off, right into the mud. The raucous laughter proved they had no tolerance or understanding of concussion symptoms. I looked at Seamus, knowing I'd need to convince our nurses, and the clan overall, of his need for recovery time.

  I huffed at myself, knowing the invisible condition would be difficult to convince people of. Similar to my own condition, I supposed. Heartache over the son of our arch enemy.

  Great. I certainly didn’t plan on discussing those intimate details with anyone any time soon.

  My lips pressed together as I led my horse toward the barn. I lingered with the grooming tools and brushed the stallion with a flat metal comb, soothing myself with each stroke.

  As I hung my collection of picks, brushes, and combs on spikes along the barn wall, exhausted from the journey as well as the exertion of grooming the horse for a length of time that seemed to stretch through the entire day, a lone rider galloped into our settlement. His tattered appearance and fatigued horse drew the attention of the clan and all eyes were on him. As he approached us, his thick mop of black hair and familiar leathers and weaponry put the clansmen at ease and swords were lowered.

  It was Eamon, from Grania's traveling caravan. His name spread quickly through the clan, carried on anxious, excited voices. Everyone stopped their work and moved closer.

  "What news have you?" Aengus pushed through the curious clan members.

  Eamon panted and sat up tall on his horse, using every last ounce of his strength. "Grania is returning from England. She met with the Queen herself. She’s one day’s sail from Rockfleet." He inhaled deeply. "Prepare for the return of our queen!" he shouted.

  "Aye!" Aengus responded to his directive.

  "Aye!" The rest of the clan cheered and scattered to attend to their specific duties of readying the castle for the return of our chieftain.

  My heart leapt into my throat. Grania was returning. Relief washed over me at the news of her safety and her success at meeting with the queen. A new strength ignited within me, re-energizing my withering soul.

  I chewed my lip as I imagined her meeting with the queen and what may have occurred. My first version, which I’d lost sleep over, included imprisonment and beheading, so I was delighted to cross that off my list. Other scenarios included dismissal from her court with little interest, demands to submit and take an oath to the crown, or with any luck, support of a fellow queen and her efforts to lead her people in peace and prosperity.

  My eyes dropped to the floor as I realized my hope was as far-fetched as my dreams that the MacMahunas wouldn't retaliate and Sir Bingham would just go away.

  Then my thoughts jumped to Rí. And my hopes for how things would work out for us.

  What was I thinking? I scrunched my face in self-judgment. We could never be together. He was from the enemy clan. Sadness rose in my throat, making me want to wretch.

  It didn't need to be that way though.

  If the clans worked together, they would be a true force against any threat. The secure feeling of Rí's arms around me returned with brutal cruelty. The way he pr
essed my head to his chest, with his hand through my hair. The smell of fresh air and wet leather rising off him, filling my senses with all of him.

  "Maeve!"

  My head jerked toward the infirmary.

  "Maeve! Hugh's askin' fer ya." A nurse flagged me over, flapping a dirty rag to get my attention.

  My thoughts of Rí burst and spread into the mist as my focus moved me to Hugh's side.

  "Ah, you’re looking better." I gave a fake half-smile. "How are you feeling?"

  "Where's Grania?" His voice scratched out of him, like he had been shouting for hours. I paused, imagining he had been.

  He reached up for my shoulder. "Where is she, Maeve?" Wild desperation filled his eyes as if she was his only concern in the world.

  "She's on her way home. She'll be here by tomorrow. Eamon brought word."

  I stared at his swollen, bruised face and prayed it would be somewhat better by the time Grania saw him. Her blind rage would be unstoppable. Her pointed vengeance would control her every decision. I would have to use every ounce of my strength to help her keep focus on how to win, overall. To stop her from fighting the small battles, and instead drive her toward winning the entire war.

  "Have we word of how she got on with the queen?" He winced through the last word.

  Broken ribs maybe. Hopefully just badly bruised.

  "Not yet. But at least she's returning home. Safe." I smiled through pressed lips.

  Hugh tried pushing himself up to sitting. "We must prepare for her arrival," he said as the blood drained from his face.

  I pushed his shoulders back into the bed. "No. You need to rest. We’ll take care of everything," I urged him. "And, Hugh..." I paused. "She's gonna be really pissed off when she sees you. Like, murderously."

  "I know. I'm not sure what's worse. Being held captive and tortured or facing the wrath of the pirate queen." He chuckled.

  "Same." I smiled and stared out the window, wondering how this would play out. My head shook in silence, knowing it wouldn’t be good. We would defend ourselves against the MacMahunas, but Grania would also insist on attacking them. Retaliating. An eye for an eye; it was the ancient custom.

  My air sucked in.

  Rí.

  He would be in immediate danger.

  Early morning sun twinkled on my eyelids and I shot up straight in my bed. I burst out of the warm blankets and my feet fell flat on the cold stone floor, sending chills through me. Grania was arriving today and I intended to be one of the first to greet her.

  I barreled down the ladder, leaving my third floor bed unmade in my haste and pulling on my leather vest as I descended. Maggie, head of housekeeping, poked her head out of the massive second floor fireplace and called to me.

  "Where ya headed at this hour, miss? Sure you'll catch your death of cold." She waved her tongs at me like a doting granny.

  "Mornin' Maggie!" I called as I bounded down the final ladder and pushed my way out the big black door.

  The cool mist of morning washed over me, heightening my senses as I surveyed the area. Aengus and Seamus, as well as two others, gathered outside the stables adjusting bridles and tightening saddles as I ran over.

  "Hey! Where are you going?" I called to them. "Not without me!" My voice rose in accusation as I observed the 'greeting party'. "I'm coming, too!" I demanded.

  Seamus glanced up at Aengus and pressed his lips to the side.

  "Ach, fine, lassy," Aengus replied. "Sure, we knew we wouldn't get far without ya." He laughed.

  "And you were going to tell me, when?" I raised an angry eyebrow at him.

  "Our orders are ta keep ya safe, Miss Maeve. But sure, ya seem ta find yer way into all the business either way." He huffed. "Keep outta trouble and we won't catch too much grief from our captain." He tipped his head to the stables, encouraging me to get a horse.

  We rode hard along the beaten path and up steep hills to the mountainous headlands to get a clear shot past Clare Island and out to sea. Grania's galley was already in sight far beyond our territory. My heart raced with the anticipation of her arrival and I stared at the ship as it grew larger and came closer with every passing minute.

  Time crawled until finally, we were racing alongside her galley, waving with welcoming cheers, hearing the raucous sounds of sea-worn sailors happy to be coming home. The galley anchored in the depths outside the inlet to Rockfleet and the crew disembarked onto a smaller craft, awaiting high tide before bringing the ship closer to the docks.

  Grania stood at the front of the boat, nodding to the other canoe-like currachs from the village, heading toward her galley to collect whatever supplies and booty needed to be hauled back to the clan. The tarred boats made quick movement through the waters, speeding the homecoming to a more tolerable pace. I bounced at the docks waiting for her boat to row closer and the crew to throw their ropes.

  Grania's hand reached for mine as I helped her step off her currach. Like coarse sandpaper, her strong, rough hand closed around mine and emanated pure strength and adept sailing ability.

  Her salt-blown hair was tied with cord and a multitude of rope-like dreadlocks fell over the back of her leather vest.

  "I must get cleaned up," she said, looking around as if she'd lost something.

  "I missed you!" The words flew from my mouth as I threw my arms around her.

  She stopped in surprise and hesitated. Then she put her hands on my shoulders and looked into my eyes.

  "I missed you too, Maeve. I've much to tell you." She looked around again. "Where's Hugh?"

  "He's back at the castle." I gestured my head toward the village.

  Her face fell. "Why's he not here?" Her harrowed tone made it clear she knew something was wrong right away.

  "He's resting. In the infirmary. But doing well. It's best he..."

  "Christ Almighty! What happened to him? Jazus! I knew it!" Her hands ran into her salty, snarled hair as she hoisted her cloak over her shoulder and barreled toward the castle.

  "We've had a run in with the MacMahunas." I spoke to her back with a raised voice, giving her the information she needed before seeing him.

  "I'll fookin' decimate them MacMahunas," she called back to me. “Decimate ‘em!” she repeated. "Is he bad?"

  "He'll be fine. No permanent damage."

  "Tanks be ta God," she said in a long exhaling breath. She shook her fist over the hills of Achill toward Ballycroy. "Here me now, MacMahunas. You will feel the pain and suffering of my wrath!"

  Her heavy black boots stomped across the rocky way as she tore for the infirmary. "Fine welcome home this is," she snarled through her clenched teeth.

  I choked back all my questions of her meeting with the queen, knowing she had interest in only one thing: Hugh.

  I paced outside the infirmary, stopping every few seconds to press my ear against the door for any indication on how their reunion was going. At first, whimpers and gentle voices of fond affection snuck through the cracks but they soon changed to louder, faster conversation that grew in volume and intensity.

  "They'll pay, the bloody bastards!" Grania's voice nearly blew down the door. Her rants trailed off, turning back into hushed words and muffles. In a crash, the door flew open and sent me flying. Grania burst out and nearly plowed right through me.

  "Jazus, Maeve. Watch it!" she snapped. But then her snarl turned to a laugh. "Sure, I'd say ya missed none of that in there. No?" Her guilty smirk exposed her girlish pleasure.

  "I couldn't hear much," I mumbled as I blushed and looked to the ground.

  "Come! To m’ chambers. There's much to discuss." She turned and plowed ahead to the castle with me close at her heels. "There's hope, Maeve." She patted the bag concealed under her cloak. "I've our future right here."

  Grania smoothed the blankets on her bed to create a flat surface and placed her parcel into the middle. She looked up at me and smiled.

  "Her attendants filled the court. Looked down their noses at me, they did. Hadn't set eyes on an Irish pirate qu
een before, sure they hadn't." She huffed.

  "One of them handed me a handkerchief after a good sneeze. Finest linen I'd ever seen. Ya shoulda seen the ruckus I started amongst them when I threw it in the fire after blowin’ me nose in it." She burst out laughing. "Sure, no queen'll be handin' her snot back over to the likes of them."

  She reeled back with a guffaw that boomed through her chambers. The sound was infectious and I laughed at the scene that unfolded in my mind — ladies in waiting gazing upon the notorious Irish pirate queen, shaking in their shoes, hiding behind their pompous arrogance.

  I followed Grania's every move. She wasn't rattled by their rude treatment of her. It only made her stronger and more confident in what she stood for.

  "Tell me about the queen!" I begged.

  "The moment our eyes met, I knew we were equals. She knew it too." She rubbed her nose. "I didn't bow when I approached her. Seemed wrong.” She took a deep breath. “The gasps of shock and horror from the ladies and gents of the court proved my action, or inaction, to be unexpected. Unheard of.” She smirked at the memory. “But Elizabeth didn't flinch. She accepted it as right."

  My hand went to my mouth and I squeezed my lips as my eyes widened. "The ruler of all England. A superpower. Your match." My head shook. “I knew it.” I knew Grania was a queen.

  But still, I was in shock. Anything could have happened in Queen Elizabeth’s court. But Grania did it. She faced her as an equal. The weight of such a meeting would surely be written in the history books. I hoped.

  "She understood my struggles — as a leader, as a woman. My effort to keep Gaelic Ireland preserved. Keeping my clan strong. My fleet powerful." She gazed out the large window into the open sky. "She agreed to help me."

  My gasp filled the room and my hand flew to my mouth again to stifle my shock and disbelief.

  Grania reached for the parcel on the bed and opened it with care. Supple leather unraveled, revealing stiff parchment with black ink scrawl. She smoothed the papers on the bed and spread them out.