Pirate Queen

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by Morgan Llywelyn


  She stares back.

  Slowly, Elizabeth begins to smile. The powder on her face cracks like glazed porcelain, but she smiles.

  Chapter Thirty–Seven

  Home in Triumph

  September, the Year of Our Lord 1593, Rockfleet

  My dear Toby,

  As you know by now, the queen of England has granted my petition in full. She has ordered that you and Donal be released, and further ordered that Richard Bingham cease his persecution of me. And, wonder of wonders! She has even given me permission to restore my fleet, so long as I use it to attack any who offend her.

  My offer to use my ships on her behalf meant that it was in her best interest to return them to me.

  When we set sail for home, I stood in the prow of my galley and gloried in the sweet wind on my face, blowing toward me from Ireland. The wind meant we could not use our sails, but my rowers bent to their task with a good will.

  The most blessed journeys are always the ones you make going home.

  I have just reached Rockfleet. By the time you receive this letter you will be at home at Burrishoole with your wife and your two little boys. Go to your chapel and give thanks.

  And say a prayer for Elizabeth of England.

  Always,

  Granuaile

  By allowing Granuaile to restore her fleet, Elizabeth has given her permission to support herself in the old way. Bingham is furious, but there is nothing he can do.

  Granuaile spends the winter at Rockfleet. She makes frequent journeys out to Clare Island to supervise the work being done on her galleys. Her overjoyed clansmen cluster around her, praising their she-king. Thanks to her, the sea is theirs again.

  In spring the galleys take to the sea. They are rigged for fishing, but they do not fish. Once they are beyond observation they sail north to transport men and arms for O’Donnell and O’Neill.

  The battle for Ireland continues.

  By June of 1959, Red Hugh O’Donnell’s men are pouring into Connacht. Many of the Bourkes are joining with them. Ulick Bourke attacks Sligo Castle and kills Toby’s former host, George Bingham. ‘If this causes you grief, I amsorry,’ Granuaile tells her son. ‘But the man was a Bingham, Toby.

  ‘You would be well advised to join with O’Donnell and your Bourke kinsmen at this time,’ Granuaile continues. ‘The allies are planning their strategy carefully. This includes sending the queen a new petition. They shall ask her to have Richard Bingham tried for his failures as governor of Connacht. While I was at Greenwich I told the queen many things about Bingham, and she listened to me most carefully. One woman telling another of the wickedness and deceit of men.

  ‘Elizabeth will blame Bingham for the bad policies that have brought the province to rebellion. If she gets rid of him for us altogether, it will be a great victory.’

  In the great hall at Rockfleet, Granuaile props her feet on a stool and leans back with a contented sigh. Shaggy hounds lie at her feet. A fire roars in the hearth.

  In her fingers is a letter.

  Richard Bingham has been ordered to stand trial in Athlone. Fearful of the outcome, he has fled to England. There he was seized by Elizabeth’s men and promptly imprisoned.

  The duke of Ormond has written his old friend, Granuaile, with the news.

  ‘I hope Bingham’s cell is full of rats,’ she murmurs to the hounds.

  Chapter Thirty–Eight

  Turning against O’Donnell

  December, the Year of Our Lord 1595, Rockfleet

  My dear Toby,

  Now that Shane MacOliverus’s brother is dead and the title is vacant again, I was furious to learn that O’Donnell is not supporting you for the MacWilliamship. When his army marched into Mayo and drove back the English, it seemed like an answer to our prayers. I was happy enough to see him take control of the region. I never thought he would prefer someone else as chieftain of the Mayo Bourkes. It is a dreadful mistake. He forgets what a good ally I have been to the princes of the north.

  Many of your father’s kinsmen will turn against O’Donnell because of this. I shall see to it. Red Hugh and I have long been friends, or so I thought. But now he has acted against my son’s interest.

  Who are our true friends? Whom can we really rely upon? When I look back at my youth everything seemed so clear. I do not know any more.

  Perhaps I am just growing old, Toby. When I count up my years, I find that I have endured sixty-six winters. Yet I do not feel old inside myself. When I first awake in the morning I am the same woman I always was. I jump up from my bed, eager for the day. Then my bones creak and my muscles ache and I am reminded.

  I wonder if Elizabeth feels the same.

  Even age has lessons to teach us. It is not possible to live in the past, and today will be over too soon. Prepare for the future, my son.

  Always,

  Granuaile

  The ravenous armies from Donegal are reducing Mayo to near famine.

  Granuaile encourages the Bourkes to desert Red Hugh O’Donnell.

  Furious, he turns his men loose to plunder her lands. Her rebuilt herd is slaughtered. Then O’Donnell’s warriors march to Toby’s stronghold at Burrishoole and cause the same damage there.

  Early in 1597 a new governor, Sir Clifford Conyers, is appointed for Connacht. He immediately moves against O’Donnell. Whenthe Bourkes will not stand with the Donegal chieftain, Conyers succeeds in driving him back into Ulster.

  Chapter Thirty–Nine

  The Wind has Changed

  April, the Year of Our Lord 1597, Clare Island

  My dear Toby,

  I have come to a most difficult decision. There is no longer enough strength in me to captain my ships. This morning I slipped and fell on deck. I could not get up on my own. My men had to help me up, and then they carried me here to the tower house. I burn with shame, Toby. Never again will I allow that to happen.

  I have decided to turn over my ships and men to you.

  You need not captain the fleet yourself. You can appoint any of half a dozen experienced men from among my crews. Both O’Malleys and O’Flaherties know the trade routes. You should do especially well with wool and linen next year. But do not squander your profits. Use them as I tell you.

  Your foster-father, Myles MacEvilly, is very old and ill. The income from the fleet will enable you to purchase his holdings when he dies. Arrange the purchase according to English law. That way you can be sure of keeping your property.

  Kings – and she-kings – come and go, but the land endures.

  Always,

  Granuaile

  Giving up her fleet is the hardest thing Granuaile has ever done. It hurts like a knife wound to the chest. After she writes the letter she leaves it lying on the table. Beside it are her favourite Italian pistol and her pewter tankard, half-full of red wine. The pistol, as always, is loaded. The wine is from the last casks she will ever import.

  She wanders around the chamber. Pauses beside the hearth to poke up the fire. Rubs an aching hip. Leans into an embrasure to gaze out of the narrow window.

  Clew Bay is dark and still. After a few minutes, a run of ripples sweeps across the water toward Rockfleet.

  Granuaile nods. ‘You are a foolish old woman,’ she chuckles. ‘Can you not see the wind has changed?’ Striding to the table, she drains the tankard in one long swallow. Then she shouts for a messenger. ‘Here is a letter for my son at Burrishoole. Send a galley across the bay at once.’

  After he leaves, she throws back her head and draws herself up until she is standing straight and proud. ‘So on we go!’

  Epilogue

  May, the Year of Our Lord 1603, Rockfleet

  My dear son Myles,

  I have sad news. Although I rode hard when I left Burrishoole, I reached Rockfleet too late to bid your grandmother goodbye. I shall remain here to arrange for her entombment on Clare Island.

  There are many things I wish I had said to her while there was still time. Somehow I never thought she would die. Like Eli
zabeth Tudor, Granuaile seemed immortal. Perhaps she is in a way. You have her dark hair and eyes. Your brother Theobald has her laugh.

  Your grandmother was a remarkable woman. People thought her wild and reckless, and she was. Yet she was clever and thoughtful too. These are the gifts she passed on to me.

  In 1601, when O’Neill and O’Donnell marched south to fight the English at Kinsale, I know her heart went with them. Although she had quarrelled with Red Hugh O’Donnell, they were fighting for Gaelic Ireland, the cause which Granuaile had championed all her life.

  My mother urged me to take men to the field myself. I did, but I waited until the last moment to decide how best to use my small army. When I saw that we could not hope to win, I threw in my lot with Mountjoy and the English.

  When I returned to Mayo I was almost afraid to face my mother. But she surprised me. She said, ‘You are on the winning side now, so take advantage of the opportunity. Build a secure future for yourself and for your sons. Life and land are what matter, Toby. Life and land.’

  Do you remember the messenger who arrived just as I was leaving Burrishoole? He trotted beside my horse, shouting his news to me as I rode away. Hugh O’Neill, Earl of Tyrone, has surrendered to the Crown. The war to preserve Gaelic Ireland is over.

  Elizabeth’s men did not tell O’Neill the queen was dead until after he had signed the document.

  The she-king of Mayo and the she-king of England have died in the same year.

  The messenger gave me more news. England has a new king now. He is James, son of Mary of Scotland. James intends to grant me a knighthood for my services at Kinsale. I shall become Sir Tibbott Bourke of Mayo.

  I wonder what Granuaile would have said. Would she have laughed?

  Always,

  Toby

  About the Author

  Morgan Llywelyn

  Morgan Llywelyn lives in Dublin. She has written numerous international bestselling historical novels, such as Lion of Ireland, The Horse Goddess, Bard, Grania and On Raven’s Wing. Her first books for children, Brian Boru and Strongbow, both won Bisto awards. Her other children’s books include Star Dancer and The Young Rebels.

  Copyright

  This eBook edition first published 2012 by The O’Brien Press Ltd,

  12 Terenure Road East, Rathgar, Dublin 6, Ireland

  Tel: +353 1 4923333; Fax: +353 1 4922777

  E-mail: [email protected]

  Website: www.obrien.ie

  First published 2006 by The O’Brien Press Ltd.

  First published as Granuaile 2001 by The O’Brien Press Ltd.

  EBook ISBN: 978–1–84717–386–7

  Copyright for text © Morgan Llywelyn

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  © The O’Brien Press Ltd.

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  British Library Cataloguing-in-publication Data

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