Quinn turned in her arms. “That girl? What happened?”
“Her father caught us and sent her away. To be honest, that was the first time I considered piracy.”
“To go after her?”
Sayyida nodded. “I wanted to know where she was. Shireen was... she was an amazing musician, a wonderful friend, and a consummate lover. And”—her eyes sparkled—“she kissed just like you.” Sayyida pulled Quinn to her and kissed her deeply. “So tell me, Callaghan, are you claimed by the Queen of Connacht, or are you, as you said earlier, just her second?”
Quinn leaned back as if slapped. “I am as I said. I am her loyal crew member and friend, but nothin’ more.”
Sayyida laughed “Maybe not as her lover, but you are hers.”
Quinn shrugged. “In a way, I suppose I am. I believe the other women in my life think Grace will always come first.”
“I’m guessing she is the only woman you’re loyal to.”
Quinn opened her mouth to reply, but Sayyida covered it with her own. “Come to bed with me, Callaghan. Let me hold you while you sleep. I swear, if the Scot wakes, I shall wake you.”
Quinn inhaled deeply and sighed loudly. “I am so tired.”
“Come.” Sayyida pulled her back to the bed and finished undressing her. “The linens will swallow your pain, and you will feel as if you are afloat on clouds.” Once Quinn’s clothes were off, Sayyida dipped a cloth in a washbasin and gently cleaned the blood off her.
“You have so many scars for someone so young,” Sayyida said, gently washing each scar.
“And ya do not?”
Sayyida flashed her a grin. “Of course I do, but you’ll see them some other time. If I disrobe, we will make fiery love, and you need rest first. Tomorrow night, perhaps. Tonight, you will lay your head to rest right here and sleep safely in the arms of a queen.”
When Sayyida crawled into bed next to Quinn, she blew out the final candle and opened her arms. “Come, Callaghan.”
Laying her head in the crook of Sayyida’s shoulder, Quinn felt her muscles melt into the soft bed. “My god, this is heavenly.”
“If you think this is heaven, wait until we make love.” Sayyida lightly caressed Quinn’s hair. “Just let it go, love. Let all your fears go. I’ve got you, sweet one. I’ve got you.”
Quinn couldn’t believe how good it felt to lie in Sayyida’s arms, to finally relax and not wonder if she would be alive tomorrow. She was amazed at how accepting her people had been, at how generous and open Sayyida was toward her. Could it be people instinctively knew there was something different about her? Or did it just not matter because they loved her for who she was, not for the gender of her sex? In the end, did it even matter why?
Without another thought, she fell fast asleep.
* * *
When morning came, Quinn woke up in an empty bed. Reaching for her clothes, she cursed when she realized they were not there. She was just getting out of bed when the door opened.
“My clothes–”
“Right now, sweet one, they are cleaner than when you got out of them.” Sayyida handed the stack to Quinn. “And I’ve checked on your Scot. Mags says she believes she was able to treat him before the wound became worse.”
“He’s awake?”
“No. She gave him something to keep him asleep so he doesn’t move around. She believes it is critical to his healing not to disturb the work she’s done. She is a remarkable physician, Callaghan, and if anyone can keep him alive, it is she.”
Quinn quickly dressed. Her clothes felt soft without the dried blood she’d been wearing. “Thank ya fer this, Sayyida. I feel like a new person.”
Sayyida kissed Quinn softly. “You slept like the dead, my sweet. Already it is near noon. We will be docking in Tangiers in no time. Maggie has food for you and your men down below. We knew you would not stop to eat until you saw the Scot with your own eyes.”
Buckling her belt, Quinn took Sayyida’s face in both hands and kissed her, at first gently and then with a passion and fire that went well beyond gratitude.
“Oh... dear. Callaghan, if you do not go to the Scot this instant, I’m afraid you will be right back out of these clothes.”
“And if I did not need to see him, Sayyida, I would truly relish that.”
“Go, beautiful. I have a ship to dock and preparations to make. Eat. Take care of your Scot. Come to me when we dock. I do so want to show you my country.”
Quinn hesitated. “I would love that, Sayyida, but I must get back to Ireland.”
“And you will—when it is safe to move the Scot. Until then, you and your men are guests in my country, and you will give me the pleasure of your company.”
“If ya put it that way, then I accept yer most gracious invitation.”
Sayyida snuggled up to her. “Which also includes night entertainment and festivities.”
Kissing Sayyida one last time, Quinn started for the door. “And just so we understand each other, Sayyida, when I come to ya this night, it will be as yer lover, not as a grateful pirate who owes ya her life and the life of her mates.”
A slow, salacious grin spread across Sayyida’s face. “You have no idea how pleased I am to hear that. I would never bed you if I thought otherwise.”
Walking out to the deck, Quinn closed her eyes and lifted her face to the sun. The Moroccan sun was brighter and hotter than her Irish sun, and it felt soft against her skin.
Sayyida was right. She had slept like the dead–a dreamless sleep in a body that had never left Sayyida’s embrace.
Sayyida.
Sayyida al Hurra, Queen. Soon to be Quinn’s lover.
She’d meant what she’d said about not bedding Sayyida as a grateful pirate. Even though she was grateful, her feelings for and attraction to Sayyida went well beyond the gratitude.
“Good to see ya up and about, Callaghan.”
Opening her eyes, Quinn smiled at Fitz. “Ya look no worse fer wear.”
“Maggie sewed me up–good as new. We’ve et and gone to see Tavish. The Scot is sleepin’ like a babe, but he’s alive, Callaghan. He’s alive.”
Quinn pulled Fitz to her and hugged him. “As are we, my friend.”
Fitz hugged her stiffly before quickly backing away.
“Do not worry so, Fitz. I’ll not express emotions fer ya once we are back on our own ship. Fer now, ya will just have to handle the more... emotional side of Callaghan.”
He grinned. “I don’t give a horse’s arse what ennaone thinks of us, Callaghan. I’d just hate fer ya to fall fer me wild charms and–”
Quinn punched him hard in the chest. “A pox on yer charms.”
Laughing, they both went below to check on Tavish.
Maggie was already working over him. When she heard their laughter, she looked up. “Ah, Callaghan. You look rested.”
“He slept with Sayyida. How rested can he be?”
Quinn went to punch Fitz again, but he dodged the blow.
“How is he?” Standing next to the table Tavish lay upon, Quinn steeled herself for the gruesome sight she was certain lay before her.
She was wrong.
The salve on his back went from his shoulders to his waist, completely covering his back. She could not see the marks she knew were there. Tavish lay snoring soundly.
“He’ll be asleep for as long as I can safely keep him that way. We’ll need to get some water down his gullet soon enough, though, and that’s going to require moving him to his side. I’ll need your help then.”
“We aren’t takin’ him to the city?” Fitz asked.
“Heavens no. The less we move him, the better. He needs to stay on board for a couple of days at the very least.”
Fitz quickly glanced at Quinn. “Callaghan, we have to get back to the Malendroke.”
“And we will, Fitz, together. All of us. When Tavish can be moved. Not a moment before.”
Fitz nodded. “I’ll find Kwame and One Eye and let them know.”
Quinn
grabbed his wrist. “Listen. It’s been a rough week. Ya fellas go into Tangiers with Sayyida’s men and enjoy yerselves. Eat, drink, bed a woman or two, Be back before dawn.”
Fitz grinned. “Ya know, I could get used to ya as my captain.”
“Well, don’t. Grace is our captain, and when the time is right we shall return to her and the Malendroke.”
When Fitz was gone, Maggie glanced up from Tavish’s back. “Fitful night for the poor man. He started sweating and I thought the putrefaction was getting him, but he cooled down once the salve set in. You really do look rested.”
“I am. Sayyida is a verra hospitable hostess.”
“Be careful there, Callaghan. Middle Eastern women do not so easily walk away from their lovers. If she claims you, parting from her may not be so easy.”
“I understand, but she knows I belong on Grace’s ship.”
“For now.” Maggie grinned. “I want to thank you for your wicked treatment of an evil man. The deprivations I witnessed can never been unseen, the degradation never unfelt.”
“I am so sorry fer what ya had to endure.”
“But that’s just it. I endured, didn’t I? And at the end of the game, I won. Had I taken my life like many of the other women did, I wouldn’t be saving your friend. The world is one big cause and effect. By living, who knows how many lives I’ll touch?”
“Many more, I hope.”
Maggie smiled softly. “You saved me, my friend, from countless hours and days of sexual torture at the hands of those Catholic fanatics. To dream of cutting a man’s cock off and then being able to do it... well now, that breathed new life into this old woman.”
“Ya are not old, just prematurely white-headed.”
Tilting her head, Maggie continued smiling. “You are far more observant than most men, Callaghan. Far more.”
“I’ve learned a great deal from Grace O’Malley, my captain. She is a remarkable woman.”
Maggie laughed. “Oh my, Callaghan, I believe she has taught you much about pirating, but your vocabulary tells me you learned how to think from a teacher or other mentor.”
Before Quinn could answer, Sayyida’s first mate came down the stairs. He pointed to Quinn and motioned for her to follow.
“Go,” Maggie said. “Tangier is a colorful and exotic place. Let Sayyida trot you around as her new lover. Eat. Dance. Remember where we were two days ago. We are alive, Callaghan. Alive. There is nothing better than that.”
Starting up the steps, Quinn was about to agree when her thoughts roamed back to a man covered in bugs, hanging from a tree with his dick on the ground.
Yes, there was something better than just being alive–
Being alive and loved. That was the best thing in the world.
Suddenly, Quinn felt the weight of the world lift from her shoulders.
* * *
The day in Tangier was, in a word, amazing. Sayyida took Quinn to eat exotic and hard-to-name foods, drink thick, sweet coffee, and smoke hookah pipes that made Quinn’s head feel lighter and somewhat fuzzy.
Arm in arm, they strolled the main street, picking out fruit, tossing down alcohol Quinn had never tasted, and watching jugglers, magicians, and other performers that gave the city a carnival feel that reminded Quinn of why she loved being a pirate. Even though Sayyida waved to those who knew her, her attention was fixed firmly on Quinn as they stopped often to kiss or hold hands.
“You make me incredibly happy, Callaghan,” Sayyida said as they stood near the docks watching the sun go down. “I wish we could do this forever.”
Quinn heard the echo of Maggie’s warning about being claimed.
“Sayyida–”
“Oh, sweet one. Do not worry. I am well aware I must release you back to Grace. I must be honest–I resent that you are hers. She is a very lucky woman to have you.”
Quinn said nothing.
“Will you return home to the arms of another? Tell me, Callaghan, is there one who looks to the horizon, waiting for you to come home?”
“In a manner of speakin’. There are two. One is married, but we no longer see each other, and the other... well, she is not of my class. Though both love me, I have learned that if I do not return that love, it is kinder to free them, which is what I intend to do upon return home.”
“Oh. I am sorry. You will break their hearts, no?”
Sighing, Quinn looked away. “Aye. Though mine will be broken as well. It has taken me a long time to understand who my true mistress—my true love—is.”
Sayyida nodded knowingly, and together they both said, “The sea.”
“This lover of yours, the one not your class... is she a port wench?”
Quinn was slightly taken aback.
“Do not look so shocked, my sweet one. You do not speak like lowbrow men. At all. You are a pirate, which means in and out of bed quickly. Ports are the best places for such dalliances, but that is all they are, Callaghan. If you truly believe you are the only one to share her bed or her affections, you are a fool. You might dent her heart some, but you’ll not break it.”
Quinn knew Sayyida was right.
“And the married one? What could you possibly be thinking? Is she a woman of means?”
“Yes.”
“Then you are a fool, my little mask wearer. I am not suggesting she does not love you, for clearly you are very easy to love, but... if she loved you as deeply as you deserve to be loved, she would not stay married long and would make herself yours.”
“It is a little more complicated than that.” Quinn watched a pelican dive into the water and come up empty.
“No, Callaghan, it is not. When a lover is worth having, one will move the heavens and earth to be with them. I should know. My name, Sayyida al Hurra, means a noble lady independent of sovereign origin, one who bows to no one. Even when I married the King of Morocco, Ahmed al Wattasi, I needed my people to see that I commanded the affections of a ruler and would not bend to his will. So I demanded that the wedding be held in Tétouan.”
“Oh my.”
“Yes. And Ahmed loved me enough to agree, to become the first king in our history to hold his wedding in a city other than the capital. That is love, Callaghan. It is what I deserved. You deserve that as well, and if you were my lover, I would scale the highest mountain for you. So this married woman... ”
“Fiona.”
“This Fiona... bah! Even her name is weak. This Fiona loves you unequally. Demand better for yourself, my sweet one. She too will have a hurt heart, but you’ll not break these women’s hearts as much as you believe.” Sayyida lightly caressed Quinn’s face and kissed her lips tenderly. “You are an amazing person, Callaghan, and if you remain too long in my bed or by my side, my heart may be the one you break.”
“Well, we can’t have that now, can we?”
Sayyida laughed easily. “No, we cannot.”
“So what are yer plans? Do we move on to Tétouan?”
“I will visit the new king and report about our mission in Tenerife. After which he will either release me to go back home or request another attack.”
“When will ya see him?”
“This evening. I would love to bring you, but–”
“No, no, that is just as well. I must meet with my crew and see if they wish to leave straight away for Ireland.”
“Callaghan, I will take you where you wish to go. Stay in the city tonight. Enjoy yourself. Eat well, drink fine wine, and be in my bed before midnight. I give you my word you will not regret it.” Sayyida rose and kissed Quinn once more. “It is a request, of course.”
“One I shall fulfill. Go, Sayyida, and know when ya return to yer ship, ya will be loved in a way no man has ever loved ya.”
When Sayyida was gone, Quinn sat on the dock alone. It felt like she was about to get elbows deep in love with yet another woman she could not really have. What on earth was wrong with her? Was she destined to choose lovers she could not truly have?
Before she could answer her
own question, someone sat next to her.
It was One Eye.
“Ya can’t beat ’em off with a stick, can ya, Callaghan?”
Quinn smiled. “Enjoy yer day?”
“Ah, hell. I’m drunker than drunk. I dunno what they be drinkin’, but it’s damn good.”
They sat in silence for a while as the pink and orange sunset danced across the sky.
“The boys’n me been talkin’. As much as we wanna go home, we aren’t leavin’ Big Red. So wherever that ship of hers goes, we’re goin’, too.”
“Ya sure?”
One Eye faced her, his one good eye staring hard into her face. “Big Red saved yer lives, Callaghan. He knew he could last long enough fer ya to figger a way out.”
“But I didn’t.”
“Sure ya did. Ya got outside where al Hurra could get to ya. Ya done good, Callaghan. Real good. Captain O’Malley’d be real impressed. We all would’ve died in the water, but ya kept our spirits from drownin’. We all owe our lives to ya, kid, so ya give us the word, and that’s what we’re gonna do. No questions asked.”
“Then I’ll let ya know come mornin’. Fer now, Eye, go enjoy bein’ alive.”
One Eye stood up and wobbled slightly. “This place’s got the prettiest women I ever seen. I think I’m gonna partake of a couple.”
“Stay outta trouble, One Eye.”
“Me? Callaghan, trouble is behind us, eh? It’s time fer a little fun.”
Watching One Eye zigzag across the road, Quinn smiled inwardly. Connor would have loved this warm place with its gorgeous women, and she hoped that he was grinning down on them wherever he was.
* * *
“How is he?” Quinn asked Maggie when she returned to the ship.
“Coming around. We got water into him earlier, but he needs more. If you can carefully roll him to one side, I can give more to him.”
Quinn stood where Maggie pointed and put one hand on Tavish’s shoulder and one on his hip. Carefully, she pulled him off the table and toward her so he was on his side.
Fire in the Hole (The Plundered Chronicles Book 3) Page 15
