Fiona lay back and motioned for Quinn to lie with her. “You are so much more observant than my husband.”
“He is a man. He observes other things.” Quinn laid her head in the crook of Fiona’s shoulder. “Do not judge him too harshly. Are you afraid?”
“Of losing this one? Yes, but being afraid changes nothing, so I choose not to be. Are you?”
Quinn traced the outline of Fiona’s areola with her fingertip. “I fear losing you. Out of the whole world, that is all I truly am afraid of.”
“Is that so? With swords and muskets, pirates and thieves, you do not fear anything but that?”
Quinn sat up on her elbow looking down into her lover’s face. “A pirate does not fear his own death, my love, but that of the one who holds his heart.”
Fiona brushed a stray hair from Quinn’s forehead. “I only wish I could hold your heart more often. I still stand on the balcony overlooking the sea every night and talk to you. A part of me believes my words are carried on the wind to your ears so that you know—always know—I am yours. I tell myself that knowing this will help you fight harder and be safer so that you can return home to me.”
“And every night, I stand on the bow of the Malendroke, listening to that very wind and beckoning it to return my words to you.” Leaning over, Quinn softly kissed her. “I was not here for the birth of your son, but Captain O’Malley has granted me leave until she is born.”
Fiona’s face lit up. “Truly?”
“Aye. I believe she regrets keeping me out to sea last time when you needed me. You need not be afraid of that this time, my love. I shall remain as near to you as if I were your husband.”
Fiona ran her fingers across Quinn’s collarbone. “Which you are in so very many ways.” Fiona made a funny noise. “I see she agrees.” Taking Quinn’s hand from her nipple, she placed it on her belly. “Shhh.”
Quinn did not have to wait long to feel the baby kick three times.
“Oh... my.”
Fiona chuckled. “She must know my true love is here and wishes to say hello.”
“She’s a strong one, this lass.”
“That she is.” Bringing Quinn back to her, Fiona kissed her softly. “I am so very happy you shall be staying.”
“Aye. How much longer will she be hiding out in there?”
Fiona signed. “Not more than a couple of weeks. She is restless to see the world. If I did not know better, I would say she truly is yours.”
Quinn grinned. “Well, she may not be, but her mother is, and it is high time I reminded her of that.”
Kissing her way down Fiona’s body, Quinn spent the next several hours doing just that.
* * *
I’d never felt a baby move inside a woman before. I’ve seen many things in my years serving Captain O’Malley, but this was quite unlike anything I have ever experienced.
Last night, as we lay in each other’s arms, I caught Fiona up on the news that Grace O’Malley had divorced Richard. She was not the least bit surprised. She said there were rumors that he had his sights on ruling above her, and everyone but him knew she would never allow that.
As she told me all of the land-based news, the baby continued to make herself known. Fiona said the near climax probably woke the girl up and that she was wont to fall asleep for fear of missing anything.
I love this child dearly already, though I know how dangerous childbirth can be. One cannot become too attached until after the first year.
In Morocco a few years back, I watched a wet nurse reach her entire hand up to her elbow inside a woman in order to help the baby release himself from his mother. I nearly fainted. Women’s bodies are amazingly resilient.
Yes, I can hack off limbs, slip around in the blood of dead men, and look at brains oozing from a man’s ears, but when that hand and half an arm disappeared inside that woman, it nearly dropped me like a stone.
Childbirth is a miracle, and I’ve found myself praying to any goddess who will listen to preserve the life of my beloved. Fiona is more than my lover—she is my anchor. Without her, I would never feel the need to come to land. Apart from the lack of female companionship, the ship has everything I need.
Who knew six years ago, when I first embarked on this journey to save Shea, that I would find friends, a family, and a home on the deck of a pirate ship? After keeping my word to Shea, I suddenly realized I was no longer playacting the role. I was and still am a pirate aboard Captain Grace O’Malley’s pirate ship––a ship and crew feared around the whole of Europe. And I love it. Every bit of it.
But now, as I write this from the comfort of Fiona’s home, I question what I might be missing on land while I am out to sea. The two worlds rarely collide, and when they do, it is seldom good for either.
I am not a fool. I know that as much as Fiona anchors me to land, she cannot do so indefinitely. She will need to be mother, lover, and wife in her family, and there is no place for me there. I need to be first mate, expert swordsman, and head of the valiant and able crew of the Malendroke. Our journey together will, one day, diverge. It is inevitable.
I wasn’t really a pirate when I started, but I most certainly am one now, and one day, Fiona is going to have to say goodbye to Kieran Callaghan.
I just hope I am ready for when that day comes.
* * *
The next morning, Quinn and Fiona were walking the garden together when a messenger rode up, the dark mare kicking up dust as it came to a halt.
Quinn immediately reached for a sword that wasn’t there in her noblewoman garb. Her throwing knives were still strapped to her thigh, but to reach them she needed to pull up meters of fabric––not the easiest maneuver.
Fiona stayed her hand. “It is merely a message, my love. Relax.”
A guard escorted the sweaty messenger to the garden, leaving the horse to be tended to by the stable hand.
“I have a message for one named Callaghan.”
Fiona waved the guard away. When he was gone, she stepped up to the messenger. “You may speak freely in front of my company.”
The messenger looked around as if trying to find the man the message was sent for. “Ma’am, I––”
“I insist. You have my word I will get the message to this Callaghan. Speak now or suffer greatly.”
The messenger nodded. “The message is from the crew remaining at Rockfleet. Richard Bourke has gathered enough men to try to retake Rockfleet Castle while Captain O’Malley is away. Callaghan is respectfully requested to return to the castle at once to help defend it.” His eyes continued to scan the garden in search of the recipient of the dispatch.
“How many men has he?” Quinn asked.
The messenger stared at her.
“Come on, man, answer the bloody question.”
Reeling back as if slapped, he responded, “Near a hundred, ma’am. That is really all I know.”
Quinn immediately started indoors. “Thank you.”
“Ma’am? I’m supposed to inquire if Master Callaghan is in need of a horse.”
Over her shoulder, Quinn replied. “No. He is not.”
When the messenger was gone, Fiona returned indoors to find Quinn preparing to leave.
“You know I would not leave you unless––”
Fiona gently touched two fingers to Quinn’s lips. “You needn’t explain nor apologize, my sweet love. She is your family. The babe is not quite ready to explore the world yet, so we have some time. Do whatever you need to do.”
Quinn kissed Fiona’s fingertips before moving them away. “You continually amaze me.”
“My home is not in danger. You must return to Rockfleet to protect it against her husband’s advances. She would expect nothing less from you. Nor would I. Is there anything I may assist you with?”
Quinn took Fiona’s face in her hands and gazed deeply into her eyes. “I shall return before the baby is born. Can you wait that long?”
Fiona laughed. “Have you not been paying attention, my love? She
already has a mind of her own. She will come when she is good and ready and not one moment sooner. We will wait if we can, but that is not up to me.” Fiona grinned. “There are moments like this one where you are so much more man than woman. Go, my love, and return when you can.”
“I shall hurry back on the wings of Brigit.”
“Just be safe. We will be waiting for your return.” Fiona kissed her again. “I do so love you, Callaghan.”
“And I you, m’lady. I you.”
As Quinn mounted her horse, her skirts billowing in the breeze, she tucked the bundle of pirate clothes under her crotch as she gazed out at heavy bellied Fiona and sighed. A small part of her thought she should stay to take care of her lover, to be there in case she as needed. The larger part of her demanded she return at once, to help secure Grace’s home from Richard––to defend Grace’s possessions and property.
But how long could she keep choosing Grace over Fiona? How much longer could she continue this role playing as a man?
With more questions than answers, Quinn spurred her horse forward, knowing that, no matter who the other person was, Quinn would probably always choose Grace O’Malley—and what woman would be able to live with that?
* * *
It was early afternoon when Quinn arrived at Rockfleet Castle with two hundred men behind her. It had been fairly easy to round up men willing to fight for the queen of Connacht––such was the respect and admiration Grace garnered from the people. All Quinn had to do was let it be known in several taverns that Grace’s holdings were being threatened. Men from all walks of life jumped at the chance to be in her good graces.
They owed Captain O’Malley.
Even as they made their way to the castle, onlookers grabbed up arms and joined them. Richard Bourke’s people did not have strength of loyalty and honor as had the O’Malley clan. Grace did not pirate the seas without spreading her wealth to those in need, and many of those recipients walked behind Quinn on their way to Rockfleet.
“Stay back a moment,” Quinn cried to the crowd behind her. “Count to one hundred and then come ahead. Ya.” She pointed to a barrel chested man holding a meat cleaver. “Ya count and then bring the good people forward. Be prepared to fight and fight hard. Remember who Grace O’Malley is and what she does for us.”
“She is our pirate queen!” one man yelled.
“She is a warrior of Ireland!” came another.
It touched Quinn’s heart to see and hear the love and loyalty her captain garnered. “Start countin’ when ya see me no longer.” Quinn left the group standing near a rock formation that protected the southern entrance to the castle.
“Callaghan!” One Eye said, embracing her and clapping her on the back. “Good to see ya, lad.” He adjusted the patch over his eye and smiled a nearly toothless grin.
“Ya seem surprised to see me, Eye.”
“Not to see ya. To see ya so soon. I was afeared ya wouldn’t get here ’til after it started.”
“Ya sent the message?”
One Eye held the reins. “Aye. I didn’t think we had the numbers to win.”
Quinn dismounted, handing the reins to a young boy as she landed on the ground. “I came at once. What do we know?”
One Eye lead her into the square castle to a large wooden table. “Bourke’s people are comin’ up from the south. They think the castle has a nothin’ but a small staff since the cap’n is gone.”
“What are our numbers?”
“Thirty-five who can fight. Eleven who cannot. I was hopin’ ya’d brought a few men with ya, Callaghan. ’Tis not goin’ to be easy defendin’ it with less than halfa their numbers.”
Quinn nodded, a slow grin creeping upon her face. “I did not bring a few men with me, One Eye.”
One Eye ran a dirty hand over his bald head and nodded. “No worries. Ya brought yer blades, and ya easily equal a dozen fightin’ men.”
There came a loud ruckus from outside that made all heads turn.
“What is goin’ on out there?” One Eye asked, heading toward the door with his sword drawn.
Quinn lightly touched his sword arm. “I would imagine it is the few hundred men I brought with me.”
One Eye peered outside before striding back to Quinn and clapping her shoulders once more. “I should ha’ known ya’d never let the cap’n down.”
“Of course not. She’d be none too pleased. Do ya have a defense plan now?”
One Eye grinned. “I’ll have to review my first defense idears.”
“For?”
“For an offense, and I’m thinkin’ I know what we wanna do now that we got the numbers.”
When the fighting plans were laid out and everyone was in place, Quinn and One Eye waved off eighteen of the twenty smaller ships Grace used to stop passing ships for her toll. On the two remaining vessels, Quinn situated twenty men apiece down in the cargo holds. They had fifty men, ten of whom were proficient archers, inside the castle. The remaining fighters scattered across Clew Bay, many waiting near the water with reeds at the ready.
From atop the four-story castle, two lookouts peered through telescopes in the direction of Bourke’s men.
“Here they come!” announced one of the lookouts. “At least a hundred... more like a hundred and fifty!”
The word spread through the men, as those near the water waited.
“The water was a brilliant idea, Callaghan.”
Quinn nodded from her place inside the castle. She and One Eye were at the fourth floor window, the one with gears and pulleys that Grace used to haul booty up from below.
“It’s all about the timin’ now.”
As they waited for the call to strike, Quinn’s thoughts floated back to Fiona and their nights together.
This baby felt healthier than the last––her kicks stronger. There was something about the life inside her that made Quinn desire her even more, and their seemingly endless lovemaking was filled with more passion, more vibrancy than ever before. It had been amazing, and Quinn wondered if it was because of the distance between those times that gave it a sense of urgency. What would their lives look like if Quinn were landbound? Would their passion be as strong, or would they have to call it off completely so as to not get caught? Already, it felt as if the end was nearing, and there was little she could do to stop it.
Or was there?
Once the baby was born, maybe Quinn could find a balance between land and sea. Maybe she could find a way to still have the best of both worlds. Surely if they loved each other enough, they would find a way to hold on even as Fiona’s family grew.
Right?
“Ready, Eye?”
“That I am. It’s been a while since we fought on land, eh, Callaghan?”
“Quite a while. Ya’ve not forgotten how, have ya?”
One Eye chuffed. “We’ll see who draws the most blood, my friend.”
This made Quinn laugh. “Aye. That we will.”
“Anseo a thagann siad!” came the lookout’s warning of “here they come!”
Immediately, the reed holders sank into the murky water, using the reeds to breathe through. They’d been giving orders to count to one hundred before rising from the water to attack the Bourkes from behind.
Those in the two ships stopped moving, and so did the ships, which barely swayed when the waves brushed up against them.
“Everraone ready?” Quinn asked the fifty men waiting with her.
Suddenly, Bourke’s men cane running, screaming, yelling their clan battle cries as they descended on the castle like ants on a candy, expecting, no doubt, to find some resistance.
There would be far more than some.
“There’s Bourke,” One Eye said, pointing to the portly man leading the charge.
“Remember what I said. No one kills him.”
“Aye. But everraone else is up fer grabs!”
As Bourke’s men surrounded the castle, waiting for pushback, Quinn’s men prepared to use the pulleys to descend.
/> “What’s the count?” Quinn asked a young boy to her right.
“Twenty-five. Seventy-five more to go.”
“Tell me when ya reach ninety-two.”
It was a daring maneuver, to be sure, but Quinn had faith in it. She had seen the Portuguese pull it off a few years back against the Spanish, and it had worked incredibly well. Those in the water, at the count of one hundred, would burst through the water to surprise those on the banks.
“Ninety-two!”
Nodding, Quinn grabbed the pulley and wrapped a belt around it. “Alrighty, gents. Here we go.”
“Now!” One Eye cried.
As Bourke and his men surrounded the castle looking for some sort of defense, they did not see the men behind them rising out of the water like whales breeching the surface. The first to pop up were archers, who quickly mowed down twenty-four men with arrows in their backs.
When Bourke’s men turned to see who was shooting at them, more fell to the arrows as the second wave of attackers rose from the water with swords in their hands and battle cries in their throats. They immediately engaged the men left standing from the archer attack.
As the attackers turned their attention toward the water, Quinn and her men slid down the rope using their belts. When she landed, she hit the ground running, blades flashing as she took out four men who had neither seen nor heard her land.
More of Grace’s men slid down the pulley while even more notched their arrows and shot at the attackers who realized, too late, that they were surrounded. When Richard Bourke saw his men begin to drop to sword and arrow alike, he turned and started to run.
Unfortunately for him, he turned right into Quinn’s sword tip, stopping just before being run through.
“Now see, this right here is why she is queen and ya are nothin’,” Quinn said, her sword up against his chest.
“It is my castle!”
“I beg to differ. And unless ya wish to perish like yer woefully outmanned group of nobodies, come inside.”
Richard looked perplexed. “Inside?”
“I cannot kill Captain O’Malley’s dismissed and disgraced husband without her consent. She might wish yer head on a pike, at which time, I will gladly do the honors, but unless and until she gives the word to kill ya, ya may live to see tomorrow. So come inside now, or raise a sword to me now and die. It’s yer choice.”
Shiver Her Timbers (The Plundered Chronicles Book 2) Page 3
