Cutthroat Crusades (The Plundered Chronicles Book 4)

by Alex Westmore

  A meaty fist shot out of nowhere and rocked Grace’s head back so fast, it snapped forward just as quickly, and he fell forward into Fitz’s arms.

  “What in God’s name?” Innis yelled, unsheathing his sword.

  Men started pulling out swords and daggers, as Fitz slowly lowered the large woman to the deck, blood trickling from her nose.

  “Hold yer fire!” Innis yelled, both hands in the air. “We will not fight each other! Do ya hear me? Nor will we lock each other in holds.”

  “He punched the fuckin’ captain, Innis!” someone yelled. “We can’t stand by and do nothin’!”

  Innis sheathed his sword. “It is obvious to me that our captain is a bit touched because of what the bitch queen has done to her family. It is not Captain O’Malley’s fault she is reactin’ this way.”

  “Maybe not, but we can’t have ennaone punchin’ our captain and let ’em live, even if it is Tavish McGee.”

  Quinn held her hand up. “I’ll handle Tavish for hittin’ Grace, but mark my words, gentlemen, if you draw on us, your blood will be spilled on this deck either right now or before you even reach Queen Elizabeth. You know it and I know it.”

  “How do we know yer on our side?”

  “Because I sent fer them!” Innis yelled.

  The crew went mute.

  “That’s what I thought. Listen up, ya buncha meatheads! Obviously, Callaghan and the rest of our crew came to help. So if enna of ya have enna notion of attackin’ then yer gonna have to go through me first.” Innis pulled out his sword once more. “So think hard and fast about attackin’ thems who came to get our arses outta trouble.”

  Most of the crew slowly sheathed their swords.

  “Good. Yer smarter than ya look.” He turned to Quinn. “Now, Callaghan is captain until Grace O’Malley returns to her senses. At that time, Callaghan will give the wheel back to Captain O’Malley, and the two of them will sort the rest of this out, Enna questions?”

  “Aye. Are we still goin’ to London?”

  Innis deferred to Quinn who replied, “Damn right we’re goin’ to London. No one imprisons the warrior queen’s kin and lives to tell about it, right, boys?”

  The cheers were deafening.

  “What about yer ship?” someone asked from the middle of the pack.

  “She’ll sail behind us as planned. This is still not a great idea, and I want to know we have a way out should the Mal take too much fire.”

  There were no more questions, so Quinn saw to Grace being carried to the captain’s quarters, her chest heavy with the wrath of Grace when she came to.

  “We’re gonna have to take care of Tavish, Callaghan,” Fitz said.

  Quinn glanced over at the odd pair: the Scot and the Irishman. “Do what you have to. When she comes to, it’s not going to be pretty.”

  Once Tavish and Innis set Grace on her bed, Quinn sat next to Grace’s bed and wondered how everything had gotten so upside down. On the deck, the look in Grace’s eyes alone told Quinn everything she needed to know. A while ago, Grace had had this wild look about her whenever she saw Drake’s ship. It was almost feral. Feral, ferocious, and frightening. It was not the look of a poised captain under control of both her emotions and her ship.

  The men had probably never seen Grace so scared, so in order to hide it, she had returned to hardened taskmaster, berating, yelling, and getting herself all puffed up.

  It all made sense.

  Quinn had never seen Grace look at her as if she was a stranger, an enemy, and it felt horrible. Still, Quinn understood Grace’s motivation. Seven years ago, Quinn would not have allowed anything to keep her from finding her best friend, Shea, when Shea was abducted by slavers. The fear of never seeing her childhood friend was what drove Quinn to dress like a man and hop on board a ship that plundered and pirated its way up and down the coast. Fear, loyalty, love of family . . . those emotions were what fueled Grace now. Nothing was going to stand in her way. Quinn understood that much.

  The problem with that was there were two hundred men relying on Grace to make good decisions, and this little trek up the Thames was not one of those. Grace had let her fear cloud her judgment to the point of risking everything and everybody.

  Grace’s eyes suddenly fluttered.

  Quinn leaned away from the bed while Grace worked to open her eyes.

  Once her eyes were open, she stared at the ceiling for a moment before slowly rolling her head to one side. Her eyes were hard and cold. “Bloody hell, Callaghan. Have ya lost yer own fucking senses? I’m gonna have to kill him fer this. Ya know that, right?”

  Quinn slowly reached her hand out and laid it on Grace’s wrist. “Grace.”

  Grace lightly fingered her bruised and swollen cheek with her free hand. “Did . . . did that goddamned Scotsman of yers actually…punch me in the face?”

  Quinn nodded twice. “Aye.”

  Grace frowned. “Is he still alive?”

  “Aye.”

  Grace closed her eyes. “No one ran him through for his treasonous act? No one threw his sorry ass overboard fer stiking their captain?”

  “No, sir.”

  “I see.” Many moments dragged by before Grace opened her eyes once more. “Have I lost them, Callaghan? Be truthful with me.”

  “No, sir, you haven’t. Not yet, anyway. They will still follow you, as well I. As well as Tavish, but you cannot seriously view me or Fitz or the rest of us as mutineers. My god, Grace, we took on a fort and gave a life in order to give you time to get clear of the archers. We dropped everything, bartered for a ship, and got here as quickly as we could. You left good men, loyal men behind, and now here they are to help you, and what do you do? You accuse them of treason. You threaten to lock them up. Threaten to kill me. Get your shite together, Grace before you have no crew to command and no ship to call home.”

  Grace kept her eyes on Quinn’s, but they did not flare up this time. They softened a bit. “Ya know, yer the only one alive who can speak to me like that and live to tell about it.”

  “In all honesty, I’d rather not, but you are making some very questionable decisions where the crew’s safety is concerned. It’s my job to remind you when you do so.”

  “Ya think sailin’ to meet with Elizabeth is unwise.”

  “Unwise doesn’t cover it, Captain. You’ve put everyone in harm’s way then wanted to put those who come to help in the hold of this ship. Does that sound at all like the Grace O’Malley your crew follows?”

  Tears filled Grace’s eyes. “He’s my son . . . ”

  Quinn squeezed Grace’s hand. “And they are your family! Not one of those men out there has issue with that. The men are behind you, Captain, as they always are. You just need to remember who you are to them first.”

  Grace wiped tears that hadn’t fallen. “Their captain?”

  “Aye. A captain who doesn’t put them in danger. A captain who acts more than reacts. They need to see you be who they are used to seeing, not a mother acting like a woman leading them.”

  “So what do I need to do?”

  “When they see us standing together on deck, they will know you’re back and ready to sail without revenge or retribution.”

  “Tavish. Ya know I can’t just let that pass. He must pay fer hittin’ me in the face.”

  Quinn handed her a handkerchief which Grace pressed against her nose. “We’ve handled that, Grace. It’s time for us to get moving before we find ourselves facing an English ship.”

  “To?”

  “London, sir. That plan has not changed. Now that we have two ships, we can send the Fortune Teller ahead if you like to take any and all aggression. A skeletal crew mans it now. It’s fast. Hard to hit. We brought the rest of the Mal crew on board.”

  Grace’s left eyebrow rose. “We?”

  “Innis and I. He sent for me and the rest of the crew you left. If you’d rather we––”

  “No, no. Ya did the right thing. As much as I hate admittin’ when I am wrong, I am wrong.
I should not have just raced off.” Grace sighed loudly. “Some days, I can’t seem to think straight.”

  “Don’t beat yourself up, Grace. Figure out what you’re going to tell the crew. Be strong. Give praise where it’s due, and remember: to a man, we are each here because it is where we belong, where we want to be.”

  Grace slowly sat up. Her cheek was swollen and changing colors. “I’ve acted the fool.”

  “No. You’ve merely acted like a scared mother, and that is a foreign concept to men. You need only return to yourself, Grace, and they will do the same. You cannot be a mother first. You simply can’t.”

  Grace tilted her head to one side. “When did ya get so smart, Callaghan?”

  Quinn grinned. “I have a good mentor.”

  “Have ya now? Seems ya left her tutelage without so much as a thank ya.”

  Quinn bowed her head. “You’re not the only one who’s made mistakes.”

  This made Grace grin. “I see. Ya wander away, we never hear a word from ya and I can only think somethin’ terrible has befallen my right-hand man. Neither Fiona nor Becca had heard from ya in months, so of course I knew ya were dead.” Grace lowed her voice slightly. “What happened to ya, Callaghan? Where did ya go? Was it the loss of Connor? Is that what took ya away from us?”

  “It was many things, Grace, the most of which was me trying to figure out who I was.”

  “And did ya figure it out?”

  Quinn rose and straightened out her pants. “Aye, Captain, I did. I realize that my transformation was complete. I am now, and shall be for the rest of my life, Quinn Callaghan, pirate. Quinn Gallagher is no more. The noble life is not for me. I am a pirate who loves everything there is to love about pirating and the sea.”

  “It took ya six months to figure that out?”

  Quinn shook her head. “That wasn’t all I had to think about. If I was going to stay Callaghan, I needed time and space to let go of those women who have loved me in spite of the truth. Regardless of who I am or what name you want to call me, I could never give them what they want or deserve. It wasn’t fair to them.”

  “It never is. The sea is our mistress, Callaghan, and we can fight that all we want, but she never lets us go. Hell, even yer Big Scot stares out at the sea beneath his feet.”

  “You saw Tavish in Scotand?”

  “Enna time I sailed by, I pulled out the scope to see him fishing at the end of the pier. The sea has even gotten under his skin, so yer in good company.” Sliding off the bed, Grace adjusted her clothes. “See, the truth of it is, we don’t choose the sea. The sea chooses us. Now that ya’ve learned that, ya can get back to the task at hand.”

  “Which is what, exactly?”

  Grace opened the door. “What else? To live long enough to get a private audience with the bitch queen herself to get her offa our backs.” As Grace strode out her quarters, she stopped, turned, and leaned back in. “Oh, and Callaghan?”

  “Aye, sir?”

  “I missed ya more than ya could know, and more than I dare admit. Thank ya fer takin’ care of the ones I left behind. I’ll never ferget it. Now, let’s get this crew put back together and make way to London.”

  Tavish rose from the deck and wiped his bloody lip with the back of his hand. Above him stood Innis, who addressed the crew. “That’s all he gets fer now. It’s up to the captain what more to do about it.”

  Grace walked out to the deck, “I don’t want none of ya takin’ it out on Tavish. The man knocked some sense into me, which is what I needed. He’ll pay fer it by my handin’ over his share of enna gold from our next plunder, but to me and me only. Are we clear?”

  The crew nodded.

  “Good. Now that yer captain is back and in full swing, things’ll be a bit better. Where are my men, Callaghan?”

  “The rest are on board the Teller waiting for orders.”

  “And Callaghan is back to being my second. Are there enna questions?”

  “What about the Fortune Teller?” someone asked.

  “We’ve got plans fer her, and it’s not scuttlin’ her, if that’s what yer worried about.”

  “She been a good ship to us, Captain,” came another voice from the back.

  Quinn suppressed a grin. Men and their loyalty to ships still amazed her.

  “Then we’ll keep her till we need her no more,” Grace replied. “Are there enna more questions?”

  “No questions here, Captain,” Fitz said. “We’re behind ya like we always been, Captain. That hasn’t changed none.”

  The rest of the crew cheered.

  Grace waited for them to settle before replying, “Good to know, Fitz. I know it might seem like we’ve pinned ourselves against a wall, but we haven’t. Not yet. I’m bettin’ Elizabeth’s curiosity will get the besta her. Trust me, boys. She’ll have an audience with me. Of that, I’m certain.”

  After Grace sent the men back to work, she called Innis and Quinn to her at the wheel. “What did ya think?”

  “I think the men accept you for being human,” Quinn answered. “And sometimes that’s to your benefit.”

  “Human, eh?”

  Quinn and Innis both nodded.

  “Well then, from one human to another, let’s get this ship movin’. The sooner we arrive, the sooner we can leave.”

  Leaving meant taking the Thames as it wound its way through the pastoral countryside dotted with white sheep and the occasional cottage with smoking chimney.

  “Ya been out here fer two hours just starin’ into space,” Fitz said, patting Quinn on the back. “Everrathin’ all right?”

  “It’s a pretty land, aye?”

  “Not as green as Ireland, but aye, I suppose there’s a beauty to it.”

  Quinn leaned on the railing and sighed. “I don’t really know if we have what it takes to beat the English back, Fitz, but the onus is on us to try.”

  Fitz leaned on the railing as well. “The world is changin’ pretty quickly, Callaghan. I fer one don’t know if ennaone can stop Elizabeth.”

  “Not even Grace?”

  “Not even Grace.”

  They stood in silence watching the scenery as they sailed by. Some folks waved, others didn’t even bother looking up. It was peaceful, and Quinn marveled at the calm beginning to settle on her. Maybe it wasn’t just the rolling hills or gentle breeze. Maybe the calm came from feeling settled in her decision to remain Quinn Callaghan. Or maybe it was the result in a shift in attitude from believing herself to be a cold-hearted pirate to understanding that the world around her needed their brand of justice.

  Justice.

  It was the word Grace used to describe the reason she took tolls from passing ships. She did not believe other countries should come to Ireland, plunder her, and then leave without offering something back.

  Justice was something Tibbott would not receive at the hands of the English magistrates. If Grace did nothing, Tibbott would hang for treason. At least this way she knew she had done all she could do to save members of her family.

  Quinn understood that much.

  But what if Elizabeth threw Grace in the Tower? No one escaped the Tower of London. If Elizabeth imprisoned Grace, what then? And how could Quinn prevent that from happening?

  “Ya can’t save her from herself, ya know?” Fitz said softly. “No more stubborn a person I ever met than Grace O’Malley.”

  “I know, but she’s never put the crew in this kind of danger.”

  Fitz looked at her before bursting out in laughter. “Who are ya kiddin’, Callaghan? Danger is the reason mosta the men are here in the first place. It’s why me and my cousins signed on. Ya think we just want to fight and plunder? Well, no. There’s a whole world Grace has exposed us to. We been to Spain, Portugal, France, Morocco, Turkey, and fuckloada islands I don’t remember the names of. We’ve run with queens and princes, have engaged in questionable political plots, and fucked women of every size, shape, and color. In the meantime, we’ve gained brothers, lost brothers, and even watched
our Scottish mate get married. We’ve been imprisoned, tortured, chased, shot at, run through, nearly drowned, and yet not one man has quit the Mal since we started. So stop yer whinin’ about Grace puttin’ us in danger. It’s what we were born for.”

  Those were the most words Quinn had ever heard Fitz speak.

  “I stand corrected. Grace has done nothing but put us in danger every single week of our lives.”

  Fitz chuckled. “So why is this enna different?”

  “I guess . . . I guess it’s not.”

  Patting her shoulder, Fitz started to walk away. “We all know the score, Callaghan. Ya need to think like a man sometimes.”

  Quinn turned quickly. “Then why come get me, Fitz, if you aren’t worried about what might happen?”

  Slowly turning, Fitz smiled. “Because ya, my friend, are the safety that balances out her danger. Ya balance her, Callaghan. Without ya, Captain O’Malley would charge head first into the queen of England. At least with ya there, cooler heads might rule the room. It’s the best we can hope fer.”

  When Fitz disappeared down below, Quinn let his words wash over her.

  Oh yes, the adventures they’ve had under Grace’s command had been amazing. Quinn had eaten foods and seen sights even a noble seldom saw.

  But this?

  This still felt slightly off-center, and Quinn could only hope she and her crewmates didn’t live out the rest of their days rotting in the Tower of London.

  Sailing past the Old Head of Kinsale and Lands End, Grace easily maneuvered into the estuary of the Thames to prepare to anchor at a bustling port beneath the London Bridge. They had taken on a little fire from two other strongholds, but Quinn had convinced her that engaging was a bad idea and she ought to, instead, just continue sailing.

  The huge mastheads of cargo ships from Belgium, Venice, Bordeaux, and Germany deposited their cargo of silk, carpets, wine, olive oil, pottery, and more.

  The crew was slowing the ship down as it passed Wapping Stairs, only to see the possible fate given to those who displeased the queen. Rotting corpses hung in iron cages over the river’s edge, their stench and most of their flesh long gone.