“Good idea. Thank you, Logan.”
“We all have our role to play, aye, Callaghan?”
Quinn nodded. “Aye. Then, come nightfall, we’ll make our way to the Fortune Teller.”
“What of Innis?” Tavish asked. “I canna see him just turnin’ the ship over to ya, Callaghan.”
“Not without a word from Grace.” Quinn shook her head. “I trust Innis to make the choice that is best for the crew. He’ll see the intelligence of this and do the right thing.”
The right thing was easier done than said, as Innis sighed with relief when Quinn and her crew boarded the Fortune Teller. He even volunteered to return to the Malendroke, but Quinn asked him to remain. Grace was less likely to call them all mutineers if her first and second mates agreed that this was the far safer course of action where Elizabeth was concerned.
“I’ve heard the border skirmishers are more than skirmishes, Callaghan. The English are pressin’ inta Scotland so they can dig in case the Spanish try a land attack.” Innis turned the wheel over to Quinn, who waved him off.
“It’s been your ship, Innis. I don’t –”
“Yer a better captain than me, Callaghan. I’d be proud to serve as yer first.”
Nodding, Quinn replied. “Then first it is.”
“So . . . what’s yer plan, Captain?”
“To stay alive, Innis. Always to stay alive.”
By the time they landed and procured horses, it was getting late, and Quinn decided it was safer to sleep by a campfire rather than risk a tavern or crew.
“Better to slide in quietly and unseen than announce our arrival,” Quinn said as she and Tavish watered and cared for the horses.
When they got back to the campfire, everyone was asleep except for Fitz, who took first watch.
Sitting on a fallen tree in front of the fire, Quinn leaned over and stared into the fire. She had no doubt she’d just closed the door to her friendship with Grace by doing this, and this truly was nothing less than mutiny. Even though they’d come upon the Fortune Teller by Quinn’s hand, leaving the Malendroke behind would anger Grace to no end, and she would be forced to wash her hands of them.
It both broke Quinn’s heart and relieved her at the same time. Grace had become reckless—her decision was not based on what was best for ship and crew.
Quinn blew out a loud breath. Yet another woman in her life with whom she would soon be parting ways.
“Doontcha dare second-guess yerself, lad.”
Quinn quickly looked up as Tavish sat next to her.
“Grace has lost sight of what’s right—of what’s important. Aye, the boy is her kin, but so are we, and she’s not makin’ safe decisions fer us.”
“It’s mutiny, Tavish. Plain and simple.”
“Oh lad, there is nothin’ plain or simple about what we are about to do here. Why do ya think Fitz and the rest offered to join us? Cause they follow their captain wherever they go.”
“Their––”
“Lad, when ya saved us from drownin’, when ya did the hardest thing a man can do by killin’ his best friend, and when stole Sayyida’s ship out from under her nose, ya became our captain. Surely yer not surprised by this. I mean, it canna come as news.”
But it did.
Quinn hadn’t even really considered herself a real pirate for long . . . but captain? Did she temporarily act like one? Yes. But that didn’t make her one.
Did it?
“I can see it does,” Tavish said softly. “Yer a natural leader, lad, as natural as Grace. These blokes snorin’ and droolin’ on themselves would follow ya to the depths of hell and back again. Believe me. They knew the score when they agreed to come.”
“Our days on the Malendroke are over, though. Do they . . . are they—”
“To a man, Callaghan. They ken exactly why they are here and not on the Malendroke.”
“But Logan—”
“Will come along when this is over.”
“Whoa.” Quinn turned. “What does that mean?”
“It means these men ken that Grace willna allow them or ya back on the Mal. Fer better or worse, yer their captain now. Ya canna just walk away Not when everra man lyin’ here chose to follow ya.”
“Their . . . captain? But I don’t even have a good ship.”
“Not now, but we’ll get one. We can trade the Teller in with some gold, or we can just take one off the high seas. However ya want to do it, we’re gonna need a crew— a well-trained crew. Innis already claimed first mate. Make Fitz yer second, and let’s start collectin’ pirates and fighters alike.”
Quinn had no words. Mutiny was one thing. Starting her own ship and crew . . . well, that was entirely different story all together.
She run a pirate ship?
Looking down at the softly snoring One Eye and the loudly snoring Innis, Quinn suddenly felt the weight of what it of what it meant to be a captain of a ship. These men had placed their faith and their Fate in her hands.
And there was no going back.
“As fer the Malendroke, Murph will want to come with ya.”
“I won’t decimate her ranks, Tavish.”
He smiled. “See? Yer already thinking like a captain. I say we pick up Logan and Fitz’s cousins, and leave it at that.”
“I’m not ready.”
“Don’t matter, lad. Get ready. Take on some of glaigh if ya want, but start thinkin’ like a captain – like a leader of men who deserve yer best.”
She turned back to the fire. “This…this is a lot to swallow, Tavish.”
“Not really, lad. Ya been leadin’ fer a long time, whether ya kenned it or not. Men ken a good leader when they see one. Yer one. Accept it and start thinkin’ into the future. They’re yer family – our family—after all. We take good care of each other.”
“And Grace? Who takes care of her?”
He patted Quinn’s back as he rose. “We do. It’s exactly why we are here right now, aye? To protect the oath she swore to Elizabeth?”
Quinn sighed once more. “I suppose it is, but she won’t ever see it like that.”
“She wouldna see ennathin’ the right way until she gets her son free. Ya made that possible much sooner by enlistin’ Drake’s help.”
“But he can’t be trusted.”
“Which is why we sent a messenger to Elizabeth in the morning explaining yer conversation and what she should expect from him upon return to court.”
Quinn nodded. “You’re brilliant.”
“Nah. Just more politically astute since I married Maggie.”
“She’s good for you.”
He chuckled and nodded. “That she is. Actually, she is just plain good all over. I love her mightily. My hand is far more usable because a her.”
“That and you’ve lost some stones.”
“She says I need to eat better…whatever that means.”
“Well, old friend, you’ve never looked healthier.”
As Tavish moved forward, he said over his shoulder, “It’s not from what I’m eatin’ or not eatin’, lad. It’s from the company I keep, and in all honesty, I wouldna even wanta be ennawhere else than here. With ya.”
When Tavish disappeared into the darkness, Quinn watched the fire lick at the sky and listened to the occasional pop and crackle.
Her?
A captain?
Suddenly, her life took on a very strange turn.
When dawn came, Tavish knelt in the circle of men and explained their situation. “Border Reivers are those maraudin’ Englishmen who try to cross the border into Scotland, where they rape, pillage, plunder, and murder Scotsmen in their sleep. These are hollow men with no morals, no alliance, no conscience. We Scots have been beatin’ them back fer months, but they are getting’ craftier and more violent.”
“And that’s where we’ll find the galloglaigh?”
Tavish nodded. “Word has it, most of the glaigh in Ireland and England have returned to Scotland in order to repel the Reivers.”
“Plenty from those families hiring near it. Trust me, lad, we’ll find Lake’s people at the borders or somewhere near it. The Reivers are a formidable opponent against our friends the glaigh. They fight dirty, they torture, maim, and take hostages. They are as vile a creature that has ever lived. Rumor has it Elizabeth culled the prison fer the worst of the worst of ‘em, and they grew mightily.
Quinn had seen the galloglaigh fight often, and they were a definite force to contend with. They were trained warriors who could sneak up on you and slit your throat or drive one of their 10 foot pikes through your chest. They were fearsome warriors. If the Reivers were that formidable, then they would have to exercise caution as they moved through the lowlands of the border territory.
“The last word I got from my friends at the border was that Lake’s clan had been seen a couple of times takin’ out Reivers from the back, but they could be enna where by now.”
“Then I think we ought to send half of us to tell Mary about Grace’s deal. The rest of us will make our way to the border to find Lake and tell them not to return to Ireland. Ever.”
“I say ya and Tavish make yer move to the border. I’ll take the rest to where Mary’s bein’ kept, and see if we can get word to her that she can no longer expect help from Grace O’Malley or the Irish.”
Quinn caught the eye of every man in her small group before replying. “That’s a solid plan, Fitz, but I want one of us to stay here at camp. This is where we will rendezvous when we are through before returning to the ship. I’ll not have us scattered about like leaves in the wind. Once our respective tasks are complete, we will meet here and the return to the ship.”
“And then what? If ya don’t mind me askin’,” One Eye asked.
“I don’t mind at all, One. Once we return to the Fortune Teller, we take her to a woman I met a while back—a trader of plundered goods. Let’s see if we can’t get us a ship we’d be proud to sail.”
Quinn waited.
It was Innis who spoke first. “Callaghan, ya have to know we’re with ya. We all agreed that we’re goin’ wherever yer wind take us, so ya don’t have to worry about it again. Ya just tell us what we need to do and we’ll do it.”
“Thank you, Innis, but you understand—”
“That Grace will call us traitors? She might and she might not. Truth is, Callaghan, Tibbott did exactly what he’s been accused of. Kin or not, Grace needs to rethink her position and stop makin’ decisions based on blood alone . . . especially if her blood is doin’ things that might cause us to lose ours.”
“Aye,” Fitz added. “Takin’ ya all up the Thames was lunacy. Many of the men lost faith in her. Had ya not come along when ya did, we mighta burned to the bottom of the sea.”
“Face it, Callaghan,” One Eye said. “Fer better or worse, we choose ya. We believe in ya. The only real question is, do ya believe in us?”
Quinn nodded. “With my very life.”
“Good. Then ya lead. We’ll follow, and let’s be done with Scotland and her queen once and fer all.”
One Eye remained at camp while Innis and Fitz rode off toward Mary, and Tavish and Quinn rode toward the border.
They rode in silence most of the way, each with their own thoughts.
For her part, Quinn struggled with the notion of being a traitor to a woman who had been incredibly good to her. Grace had been more than her captain and friend—she’d been Quinn’s confidante and mentor. Still, Grace had changed. She was, in all honesty, acting like the worst expectations men had of a woman, and there was simply no place for that when hundred of lives were on the line and expecting her to make sound decisions. She was a great captain, a good friend, and this was how Quinn would repay Grace for her kindness and education? By leaving and taking some of her best crew members with her? It made Quinn sick to her stomach.
“Grace isna the only woman yer gonna need to say goodbye to, lad. I hope yer ready fer that.”
“You speaking about Evan?”
“Aye. I ken yer feelin’s run deep fer Lake’s laoch cuidich, but yer loyalty is to Ireland and these men. Grace swore an oath of fealty to Elizabeth. Make no mistake that what Elizabeth heard was that Irish pirates will no longer aid Mary or attack English ships. Grace’s oath was not merely for Grace, and we canna come back to Scotland. Surely, ya understand that?”
“I do. I just hadn’t expected to even see Evan here.”
“No? Wherever Lake goes, so goes she, aye?”
“Aye, but I can’t stand the thought of her being out among those Reivers if they are as bad as you say they are.”
“There’s plenty to be had workin’ fer the border folks, Callaghan. They have land, sheep, and other goods. They’ll pay handsomely fer protection.”
“Aye, but the border is a long one. We need only get word to any glaigh that Ireland is no place for them and to send a message to Lake to that effect.”
“And what of Evan? What of yer feelins fer her?”
“I’ve come to the conclusion that my feelings for a woman aren’t necessarily in anyone’s best interest. Fiona, Becca, Grace, Evan—hell, even Sayyida have not benefited from being loved by me. Evan will be better off with her love, and I will be in mine.”
“And where exactly, is yers, lad? Ya do seem to spread yerself a wee bit thin.”
“On the water, Tavish. On the sea with my crew, my friends, my family, and I’d be pleased to have you and Maggie join us.”
He chuffed. “Ya will have to talk to the missus about that. Ya ken how I feel about ya and the sea. If Maggie will join us, ya ken I’d never turn it down.”
“Then I guess I’ll have that conversation with her when we return.”
“I’d like that, lad. I have to admit—I’ve missed it.”
“And it has missed you, old friend.”
After two hours of riding, Tavish’s maximum time astride a horse, they stopped at a river to water the horses.
“Getting close to the border, lad. No more talkin’ unless it’s in Scottish. No need to let folks ken yer not one of us.”
“Indeed.”
As Quinn started to mount her horse, there came a loud rustling of the bushes followed by a loud yelling and hands that grabbed her and threw her from her horse.
“Tavish!” she yelled as she fell to the ground.
“Reivers!” he yelled before being punched in the mouth. Several men jumped on Tavish and started beating him about the head. “Run, lad!” he yelled in Scottish before one of them knocked him out.
“Don’t hurt him!” Quinn said in English. “Please. I am an emissary here on the orders of Queen Elizabeth.” Quinn reached into her jerkin and pulled out the scroll. “This gives us safe passage to––”
A hand shot out and punched her in the mouth. Quinn crumpled to the ground, squeezing the scroll tightly in her fist.
“Piece of Irish shit,” One of the men said as he grabbed her by her jerkin and yanked her to her feet. As he did, his hands inadvertently brushed against her chest.
“What . . . what have we here?” he said, tearing Quinn’s jerkin and shirt open to reveal the bandage she wrapped around her breasts to keep them flat. “Well, I’ll be . . . she’s a woman.”
“Not a chance,” one of the other Reivers said as he stepped forward. “You’re right, Simon. He’s got tits!”
The rest of the Reivers crowded around her.
“I got first crack at her,” one of the bigger Reivers announced.
“Uh, Uh. We roll for it, just like last time.”
Quinn stood frozen. Only Tavish’s slight movement made her react.
If he came to and saw that these men knew she was a woman, he would most likely get himself killed trying to defend her. She couldn’t have that.
“There’s enough of me to go around, fellas.” she said in perfect English, “but more of those dirty Scots will be comin’
along and there’s more of those than there are of you.”
The English Reivers looked at one another before one said, “Harold, take her with you. We’ll roll for a ride when we get back to camp.”
The large man named Harold threw her over his horse on her belly.
Quinn had never felt more exposed, but at least she was able to draw them away from Tavish.
They rode for quite some time, and Quinn tried to get a look at her surroundings as they clopped along. At least they didn’t ride hard. She would still be close to Tavish, her only real hope of getting out of this alive.
She did not, however, expect to get out of it intact.
From what she could tell, these marauders worked from the shadows picking off anyone who happened along their path. She counted eight on horseback and figured there might be half of that, or more, back at camp.
Her sense of calm surprised her.
Perhaps it was because she knew Tavish was still alive. Or maybe her fear had yet to bubble to the surface. Whatever the reason, Quinn was already trying to figure her way out of this.
They tied her to a tree so she was sitting with her arms behind her. A tent next to her had a man standing guard at it. A small fire was now being stoked, and the men who had attacked her were coming back to camp after caring for their horses.
The man named Simon squatted down to talk with her, his eyes like a wolf’s in the night. “So . . . what are you, exactly?” He flicked the buttons of her shirt. “A women dressed like a man is an unnatural creature. You spoke English to us, but I believe you are not that. You were on a horse, but by your clothing, you are clearly a pirate. Before my men use you like a tavern whore, we’re curious to know what it is you are.”
Quinn studied his eyes. They were the eyes of a man dead inside. Then she let her gaze travel to his large hands and thick fingers.
Only then did she begin to feel the onset of fear.
Men like these barbarians thrived on fear. It was fuel for them that upped the mayhem and destruction they enjoyed delivering. She would not give them that fuel.
“What I am is an ally of your queen who will be very displeased to hear that you and your men paid her passage letter no heed.”
Cutthroat Crusades (The Plundered Chronicles Book 4) Page 9
