Fire in the Hole (The Plundered Chronicles Book 3)

by Alex Westmore

  “Not much here, eh?” someone else muttered.

  Quinn stopped and turned her head. “Maybe too quiet?”

  The men stopped and listened as well.

  No one moved.

  “Callaghan?” another of the men asked.

  Quinn held her hand up and listened a little longer. Then she rose up. “We’re all right. I shall check around the exterior and make sure we are alone. Stay on yer toes, men.”

  When the horses were cared for and the men sprawled out, Quinn took time to scout around the barn. A small cottage perched on a small hill overlooking the lake and the barn. The village was quiet, but not dangerously so.

  After her fourth round, Quinn climbed out onto the roof of the barn, her eyes scanning the darkness. Her gut was not warning her of danger, but she needed to make certain they were safe.

  The ride had been longer than she’d anticipated, and the men were exhausted. She could hear them snoring already. It was so odd to her how these grungy men had gotten to her. She loved them all more than she dare admit.

  “Callaghan? Psst. Callaghan!”

  Quinn looked down at one of her men standing in the moonlight.

  “Aye, James?”

  “I saw some boats at the barn in the village before this one. They didn’t look so good, but I bet they’d do the job.”

  “Good work, James. Get some rest now.”

  “Aye.” He scratched his dry beard. “What about ya?”

  “I’m gonna sleep up here. We’ll leave at dawn and see what we can see. Remind the men, no Gaelic.”

  When James went back inside the barn, Quinn lay back on the roof and stared up at the stars.

  It was already getting frosty, and a chilly breeze danced sharply across her bare forearms.

  For the last few years, her nighttime thoughts had almost always drifted back to Fiona–her skin, her lips, the timbre of her voice, the way she laughed. Their lovemaking was always one of the items on Quinn’s mental nighttime menu.

  Not tonight.

  Tonight she thought of Evan and their last conversation.

  Evan.

  But she wasn’t thinking about Evan’s skin or her lips or her laughter.

  No, Quinn thought about Evan’s words and how clear she was about herself and the world around her. Even as another woman dressed as a man, Evan seemed to know who she was and what she wanted from her life.

  Evan lived in a world of warriors–the same world Quinn and the men below her lived in. They all fought to stay alive. They treated each other like family, and their loyalty knew no bounds.

  Somehow that made Quinn feel much better. Maybe she could make a life with Evan. Maybe at the end of the day they were more alike than they weren’t, and one of them could choose the land over the sea or vice versa. Maybe when Quinn was stripped to the bone she was exactly the same as the woman who also wore men’s clothes and worked as a second to the mercenary galloglaighs who fought for the highest bidder.

  Maybe, just maybe, Quinn had finally realized who she might truly love the most.

  * * *

  They left at dawn, arriving quietly into the small and bustling village of Kirkcaldy. It was just Quinn and James, the two with the best Scottish Gaelic and the easiest ability to blend in. She had no doubt they could get by with the language.

  The village sat ensconced in a perennial mist, so it was difficult to see how large or small it was. They could only see three cottages down the road. Everything was grey and wet, covered by the mist’s damp hand.

  “Ya check the area around the lakefront, James. I’ll head down to the docks and survey the area around to make sure we can drag boats in and go. The rest of the men must remain outta sight.”

  “What if the owner should come to the barn?”

  “Then they will capture him and hold him until nightfall.”

  James nodded. “Aye, Captain.”

  Quinn shook her head. “One–no Gaelic. We must only speak Scottish, or we’ll be in trouble. Two–I am not yer captain.”

  “Beggin’ yer pardon, Callaghan, but Captain O’Malley put ya in charge of our small group. That makes ya our captain.”

  “James–”

  “The men respond better to acknowledged leadership, Callaghan. Take the mantle fer now. Trust me.”

  “I do. Verra well. Call me what ya will. We must make sure all is well when Captain O’Malley and the rest of the crew arrives. Nothin’ else matters.”

  “Aye. Then care fer yerself, Callaghan. See ya soon.”

  Quinn made her way to the shore without incident.

  The pier was long and narrow and clearly used for small fishing boats, three of which were moored in the small slips.

  In the early morning hours, the sunlight played upon the water like an old friend. It would be easy enough to steal two of the fishing boats moored near the dock. They could get in, over, and out without anyone being the wiser. Quinn hoped Grace had a plan for their return. Coming back through Kirkcaldy was not a good idea, especially after they stole the boats.

  Quinn sat on the dock and watched the sun continue to rise. It was a beautiful morning, to be sure, and she–

  “Gorgeous morning by anyone’s standards,” a female voice said from behind her.

  Glancing over her shoulder, Quinn saw a middle-aged woman dressed in noblewoman’s attire gazing out over the water. Her beige dress and matching shawl fluttered slightly in the breeze. Her hair, lightly greyed, hung loosely to her shoulders.

  “Aye,” Quinn said, motioning for the woman to sit with her. “It is, indeed.”

  To Quinn’s surprise, the woman immediately sat down and dangled her feet off the dock.

  “Don’t normally get sunny morns out here,” the woman said changing from Gaelic to perfect Scottish Gaelic. “This country is always so blooming cold.”

  “Ya’re not from around here?”

  The woman laughed. “Closer than you, I’d imagine. Your Scots, while passable, has a wee bit of an Irish Gaelic lilt to it.”

  Quinn started to stand when the woman lightly touched her wrist.

  “You’ve nothing to fear from me. My name is Lady Mary Kelligrew, and no, I’m not from here. I am here on business, as, I would imagine, are you.”

  Quinn slowly sat back down. “Passin’ through is all.”

  Lady Kelligrew chuckled. “Oh, I sincerely doubt that. You Irish seldom come so far inland without a purpose.”

  Quinn’s head jerked toward her. “My accent might be–”

  “You’re from Grace O’Malley’s ship, are you not?”

  Glancing around, Quinn suddenly leapt to her feet. “Madam, I do not know who ya think I am, but–”

  “I know enough to know you are not what you appear to be... in more ways than one. Please. Sit. I truly do not mean you any harm, and it’s possible we might both profit from a conversation.”

  Quinn glanced around.

  “There is no one here but me, dear. Perhaps if I told you my given name... Elizabeth Trewinnard.”

  Quinn knelt down next to the woman. “Trew... the pirate?”

  Lady Kelligrew threw her head back and laughed. “Oh my, it’s been some time since anyone actually said those words to my face. If that label makes you less likely to run off, then yes, the pirate, though my job is far less adventuresome than the life your queen leads. Please, resume your seat. It has been so long since I’ve had another... like me to talk with.”

  Quinn sat back down on the pier, her legs dangling as well. “My name is Callaghan. And yes, I am from Grace O’Malley’s ship. How did ya know?”

  “I pay handsomely for eyes and ears and was informed last evening that her ship is off the coast and that three of her boats made it to shore.”

  “Does ennaone else–”

  “Know? I doubt it. These are country folk with small lives and narrow vision. They care not what happens on the water.”

  “And I?”

  “It is not important what I know about how you arr
ived, Callaghan. Much more so is the serendipity of our meeting.”

  Quinn cocked her head and felt the uncomfortable feeling that this woman could see right into her soul. “In what way?”

  “Unlike your own queen—or does she prefer captain?”

  “Captain.”

  “Unlike Captain O’Malley, I seldom hit the high seas to plunder ships laden with goods. Oh, my husband and I did when we were younger, but he died over a year ago. Since then I haven’t felt the need or desire to be on a ship again. What I do now is receive and store stolen goods at our home, the Arwonack House.”

  Grace had spoken about Lady Kelligrew a long time ago, when Quinn had first come to the Malendroke. The lady and her husband extracted toll from Pendennis Castle much the way Grace did from Clare Island, and though they were not considered “pirates” by Grace’s strict definition, their activities were no better nor any worse.

  “May I ask why ya are here then, m’lady?”

  Lady Kelligrew fully faced Quinn now, a mask of surprise on her face. “You are an interesting creature, Callaghan. Not quite pirate, not quite noble. Your language and its cadence give you away. You are clearly not of lowbrow descent.” Lady Kelligrew waved the air as if to bat her words away. “Nevertheless, yes, you obviously have reasons for your deception. Are you aware, as I am certain you are, that the Queen of Scotland is held in the middle of this lake?”

  Quinn hesitated just a second before nodding. “Aye.”

  “That means there is plenty of the Queen’s treasure to grab when they move her.”

  “You... you’re planning on stealing from the Queen of Scotland?”

  Again, Lady Kelligrew laughed. “Oh, Callaghan, I may not know what you truly are, but you most certainly are no pirate. Of course I am. Just because one has the word queen before her name doesn’t mean she is off limits. You of all people ought to know that. Your captain has relieved Elizabeth of plenty of her gold and goods.”

  Quinn looked away. Who was this woman?

  “I see I’ve confused you. A true pirate would see the great opportunity here. The Scottish monarchy is in shambles. The Queen may never see the light of day or smell the air of freedom ever again. Now is the perfect time to strike and collect the goodies left in the wake of her capture.”

  “I’m not interested in robbing from the Queen.”

  “Oh my.” Lady Kelligrew faced her. “Is that sentimentality I hear in your voice?”

  “Perhaps. I... I have some history with the Queen. Though I would not go so far as to call her a friend, I am her ally. Somewhat. It’s... a long story.”

  “I see. Well, I have no political boundaries. I am a businesswoman, plain and simple. I imagine your captain and I could do business together.”

  “Business? I don’t think Grace would be interested in trading.”

  “Trading? Oh no, my dear, I do not trade. I ship. I store. I find buyers. I can give her a place to store plunder she doesn’t know what to do with.”

  Quinn remained quiet.

  “Fine. I will leave that for you to take to her. Or not. So, if you’re not here for the booty, Callaghan, why are you in Scotland?”

  “Just passing through. Like I said.”

  “Oh, that’s rich. On land? Hardly. Pirates on land are like horses in water. They may stay afloat a bit but won’t last long. That’s all right. Keep your secrets. Life is more interesting with them.”

  Quinn watched a couple of ducks land on the water. Several minutes passed before she turned to Lady Kelligrew. “There are more female pirates than I ever thought possible.”

  Lady Kelligrew smiled. “What I learned about men during my marriage is they don’t really see the world as it is. They see it the way they wish it to be. I had to make my husband think that pirating and taxing ships was his idea.”

  Quinn barely nodded.

  “Dress up a dog and call it a horse, and a man will try to ride it. Simple creatures, men. Like children most of the time. Most women do not understand their simple nature, so they choose to follow men’s idea of what a woman is or can be. The kind of life we lead is entirely up to us. The key is not allowing men’s simplistic notions of us to dictate our choices. Your captain understood as much and gained the respect of her peers by doing so.”

  “Grace O’Malley is a very adept leader.”

  “So I’ve heard. I’ve also heard her men are more loyal to her than they are to your country. That says a great deal about her.”

  The two ducks paddled around in the water, oblivious to their presence.

  “A good leader is a good leader.”

  “With or without a penis.” Lady Kelligrew laughed once more. “That proves my point. Men want a strong, fierce leader, and they’ll follow her to the ends of the earth if she is aggressive and fair.”

  “Is that why you all follow Elizabeth?”

  Lady Kelligrew shook her head. “Our queen is fierce, yes, but she is not entirely fair. I imagine she would be if she did not allow her advisors such free reign. Poor Mary of Scotland is a fine example of that.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Lady Kelligrew sighed. “Elizabeth probably does not even know they arrested Mary. She is not in favor of treating other monarchs like commoners, especially not her own kin. Don’t you think if Elizabeth truly wished Mary out of the way, she’d just have her killed?”

  Quinn frowned. “Regicide causes wars.”

  Lady Kelligrew laughed loudly at that. “Regicide. Truly you are no pirate, Callaghan, but I appreciate your willingness to show some of your true nature. Yes, it does cause wars, but Elizabeth is not the least bit afraid of war. No, Mary lives because the Queen of England demands it. When she no longer demands it, Mary will cease to live. It is that simple.”

  Quinn suddenly found herself longing for more of this kind of conversation. “I am not fond of Elizabeth for many reasons, but at least on that account she and I see eye to eye.”

  The ducks flew away, and Lady Kelligrew rose. “I have an appointment in town, Callaghan, or I would love to stay and chat with this well-spoken pirate.”

  Quinn rose as well and realized that she and the lady were nearly the same height.

  “It matters not what you appear to be, Callaghan, nor does it matter what others think of you. If you are happy with who you are, then all will work out in your world.”

  “Thank you, Lady Kelligrew. I have enjoyed our chat.”

  “Oh, you’ll see me again, Callaghan, probably sooner than you think, but worry not. Your secrets are safe with me.” With that, Lady Kelligrew walked off the pier and disappeared into the village.

  * * *

  After surveying the dock, the boats, and the shoreline on either side, Quinn found a small tavern and entered it.

  Sitting at a table with a half dozen other red-haired men was Tavish. The room was hot and muggy but filled with laughter and drunk ribaldry.

  Tavish glanced up at Quinn but showed no signs of recognition. None.

  Quinn looked away and sat alone at a table in the corner.

  When her ale and whiskey arrived, she nodded once to the server, who went about her business.

  Quinn had been waited on by easily a hundred different serving wenches in any number of countries, yet today was the first time she realized how difficult their job was... how hard Becca had to work.

  Becca.

  Suddenly, a wave of sadness rolled over Quinn.

  Becca deserved better than an absentee lover who was still only half there even when they were together. She was a kind, loving woman who worked hard, laughed easily, and saw Quinn for who she really was. A generous and selfless lover, Becca knew well every inch of Quinn’s body and exactly what to do to bring her pleasure. She was a wonderful woman... whom Quinn needed to release as well.

  It simply wasn’t fair to keep Becca hanging on a false hope. Quinn loved her, of course, but not to the degree she loved Fiona. Becca deserved more, and Quinn had no more to give.

  She
kept hearing Lady Kelligrew’s words about the world and women. Was there some reason the Goddess had brought the two of them together on that pier? Was there a message Quinn heard but hadn’t quite received?

  “Ya look like ya just lost yer best friend, laddie,” Tavish said, plopping down at the table and nearly tipping it over. “But ya didna. I am right here.”

  “What are you doing?” Quinn asked, her voice in a whisper.

  “Doona worra, laddie. Those boys think I’m roustin’ up a few hundred more men.” Tavish lowered his voice as well. “We’ve got the numbers, lad. Ya get her to the shore, we’ll get her to freedom.”

  “Kirkcaldy?”

  “Of course, Kirkcaldy. These folks are loyal subjects of their queen. There will be boats fer ya tonight. Fitz is out now collectin’ them. We’ll be ready on this end, lad.”

  Quinn chugged her ale and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. “Good work, Tavish.”

  “I wouldn’t leave yer backside hangin’ out, lad. Ya tell the captain that Mary’ll be safe once ya hit the shallows.” Tavish glanced over at the table he’d been at. The wench was entertaining the men with a story.

  “Thank you. Then we’ll leave when the captain gives the order.”

  “I’ll have me eyes on the pier. Ya’ll not be bothered by enna of the locals.” Tavish took Quinn’s whisky and downed it in one gulp. “Now tell Tavish why yer sittin’ here lookin’ so glum.”

  Quinn looked out at the patrons. All men, but for the wenches. “Have you ever felt like you lost your way?”

  Tavish frowned a moment. “Truth to tell, lad, I’m lost mosta the time. It’s what happens to adventurers, pirates, those sortsa folks. Bein’ found means... well... ” he rubbed his thick hand across his grizzled beard that now had specks of silver. “It means settlin’ fer a life while waitin’ fer death.”

  Quinn could only stare. When they first met, she’d had no idea Tavish had such depth. Oh, she knew he was loyal, knew he would give his life for her and any number of others, but she’d had no idea he was capable of such wisdom.