Shiver Her Timbers (The Plundered Chronicles Book 2)

by Alex Westmore

  Quinn nodded. “Aye. In and out.”

  “I’ll be right by the gate.”

  “You can turn around, Kwame!” Quinn yelled.

  Kwame turned around, his jaw dropping when he saw Quinn.

  “Close yer yap,” Tavish said, walking up to Kwame. “Ya didna see this. If I ever hear ya speak of it, I’ll slit yer throat while ya sleep.”

  Kwame raised his hands and backed away. “No worries, Tavish, but are you sure you can get away with this? Callaghan barely passes as a woman. I’m not so sure.”

  “Thank you, Kwame,” Quinn said, barely suppressing a grin. “We all have our jobs to do. You both leave first.”

  “How much time do you need?”

  “Give me two hours. If I am not back, get to the ships and make a different plan. Save the crew. It is what Grace would want.”

  “Not leavin’ without ya, Callaghan,” Tavish said.

  “Tavish––”

  “No. No discussion. If ya do not come out, we will find a way to get ya both out of there.”

  “Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that. Go now. I’ll see you soon.”

  “Ya better.”

  Tavish turned to Kwame. “Have them dock at Rogerstown until we ken what is happenin’. Then get yer arse back here.” To Quinn he said, “Two hours, lad. Doona make me come after ya.”

  With that, Quinn watched her two friends walk away and wondered if she was making the biggest mistake of her life

  * * *

  “M’lady? You... you wish to see the pirate Grace O’Malley?”

  Quinn nodded. “Aye. Her family owes mine for losses incurred, and I wish to speak to her of it before she is hanged.”

  The guard licked his lips salaciously as he stared at Quinn’s barely visible cleavage. “She doesn’t get visitors.”

  Quinn leaned closer. As he bent forward as if to receive a secret, she grabbed the back of his head and held him tightly. “Unless you want to work the rest of your days in the pig field, I suggest you let me in there. I have many, many friends in much higher places than my own.” Releasing him, Quinn shoved him back. “Tell your commander Lady Quinn Gallagher, daughter of ––”

  “Of Henry?”

  She smiled sweetly. “The very one.”

  “Why didn’t you say so, m’lady? My apologies.” The guard walked with Quinn down dank hallways and thin corridors passing dungeon after dungeon until they finally arrived at a corner cell that held Grace.

  “Grace O’Malley, you have a visitor.”

  Grace barely glanced up. “I don’t care to speak with ennaone right now, so shove off, arsehole.”

  “There you go, Lady Gallagher. She does not wish to speak with you.”

  “Perhaps if you represented me by my maiden name. Callaghan?”

  Grace’s head snapped up and she leapt to her feet. “I’m so sorry. I did not recognize ya at first. Yes, guard, I will speak with the lady.”

  The guard turned back around. “You have fifteen minutes, Lady Gallagher.”

  Quinn turned to him. “Actually, I’ll have as long as it takes. Do not test my patience with your feigned bravado, sir. I am a noblewoman and expect to be treated thusly. If you cannot manage this, then I wish to speak with your leader.”

  “Excuse me, m’lady. I have forgotten my manners. Of course.”

  “Now leave us alone.”

  He hesitated, then left the area.

  “What are ya doin’ here?” Grace fairly growled. “Don’t ya know––”

  “That they want the rest of us? Aye, Captain. I have surmised as much.”

  Grace looked dumbfounded, her red eyebrows knitting together. “I see.” Grace’s eyes traveled up and down Quinn’s dress. “Verra smart, Callaghan. Verra, verra smart. Did ya... did ya have to give yerself up?”

  “Not important.” Quinn tried not to look at the purple bump on her captain’s left cheek or the cut across her forehead.

  Grace stared at her, waiting for an answer.

  “Just Tavish.”

  Grace nodded. “Not news to him, I’m sure. Now, where’s my crew?”

  “On their way.” Quinn held her hand up. “No, not on the Malendroke. We left her at Clare. They’re on the Breeze and Mystery, just a few hours out if all went well leaving the island. Tavish and Kwame are here with me. Fitz is at a tavern trying to get more information. We want to know what you want us to do. How can we get you out of here?”

  “There is nothin’ to do right now, Callaghan, except keep the crew safe.” Grace went on to confirm what Quinn had suggested to Tavish. “The English have backed those bloodthirsty MacMahons, who want to punish my crew fer my actions. That’s what this is all about. They want the gold, my crew, and a story that will exonerate them and their bloodthirsty queen. It is most unfortunate that our people are willin’ to be used as Elizabeth’s pawns, but this is her way of silencin’ those who know about the heads while retrievin’ the gold she lost along the way. ”

  “The crew won’t turn back without you, no matter how loudly you order them to, so let’s not waste time with that argument. We need to get you out of here.”

  “Callaghan, have ya seen the strength of their guards? A hundred at least. Ya are to return to the Malendroke and get her to safety. Go to France. Find Sayyida and dock in Morocco, but leave me and Ireland.”

  Quinn warmed instantly at the sound of Sayyida’s name. The Moroccan pirate was every bit as amazing as Grace, only more exotic and much sexier. Still...

  “That will never happen, Grace. I’m sorry. Besides, what if this is about... Mary? And Scotland?”

  Grace shook her head. “We are not on the block fer that. Mary covered well her tracks. No, this is Elizabeth’s doin’. She wants to make an example out of those who dare question her or her evil ways. This is about gold, about those heads, and about usin’ the Macs to drive a wedge between clans. Do ya think they’d really have the guts to come at us on their own?” Grabbing the bars, Grace brought her face up to them. “Listen to me, Callaghan. It will do me no good to see my crew killed or locked up. If they were goin’ to kill me, I’d already be dead. This is merely a warnin’ shot. We are not goin’ to run amok because of a single warnin’ shot.”

  “Then what would you have us do?”

  “Our enemies... my enemies, the MacMahons, will undoubtedly attempt to retake Doona Castle first. I am unconcerned about Doona. Let them have it. Ya and the crew are to protect Clare Island at all costs. If we lose Clare, we lose our home, our dignity, everrathin’.”

  “Clare Island means nothing to us without you, Grace. You cannot truly think the men will turn around and leave without a fight. It is not how you taught us. It is not who we are.”

  Grace’s eyes narrowed. “I taught ya how to stay alive, and that is what I expect to happen. Go now, Callaghan, and do not let the night slow ya down. That is an order.”

  Quinn stood a moment before reaching under her dress and pulling out two of her throwing knives. “One last question––”

  “No.” Taking the blades, Grace hid one in her boot and one between her breasts. “They did not molest me. Well... not fer lack of tryin’. A broken nose on one and cracked or broken ribs on another told them it would be easier and safer to bed a hornet’s nest. Tell the men I am in good spirits and I shall not be harmed but that they will be if they lose Clare.”

  “We won’t lose Clare, sir. I promise you that. You be strong. Know that we will do all we can to protect the island as well as you.”

  “I am countin’ on ya fer that. Ya done good, Callaghan. Really good. Now get out of here and take the crew with ya.”

  Quinn nodded, a sudden fear overwhelming her. “Captain?”

  “Uh-uh. No goodbyes, Callaghan. Even though we are, we will not act like women. Now is a time fer iron reserves, not soft mutterins. Ya will see me again––alive and with my sword stained with English blood. On that, ya have my word. Now go.”

  When Quinn finally reached Tavish, she’d had
plenty of time to replay her conversation in her head at least a dozen times.

  “Callaghan! That didna take verra long. Is she––”

  “She is well, Tavish, but we will not be if we let our men land, and she wishes them to not come after her.”

  “Aye. Kwame headed off up the coast to see aboot stoppin’ them at Howth Head.”

  “Stopping them? How?”

  “Didn’t say. Just said he had a plan, and off he went. What are her orders?”

  Quinn motioned for him to follow her to a shoulder-high hedge, where she turned her back. “Get me out of this rib prison. I feel like I am suffocatin’.”

  Tavish quickly undid her laces as she shared with him her conversation with Grace. When Quinn finished, Tavish went to the opposite side of the hedge while she dressed.

  “She fears the MacMahons will come after Clare Island in an attempt to split our forces, for certain.”

  “Not before they retake Doona.”

  Quinn nodded. “Right. And that’s the only thing that will give us time to get back there. We must get to the Malendroke before they sink her, and then we must prepare to defend the island.”

  Tavish waited for a loud carriage to clack on by before he replied. “They willna attack Clare once they realize we were not taken care of.”

  “We need to be sure.” Jamming her dress in a sack, Quinn sighed loudly as she put her pirate clothing back on. “They won’t know we are there.”

  Tavish turned. “She wants us to kill the rest of the MacMahons?”

  Coming around to the front of the hedge where Tavish stood, Quinn shook her head. “No, Tavish. That’s not what she wants. She wants us to hold Clare Island. If we have to kill the rest of the MacMahons and their allies to do so, then so be it.”

  * * *

  Once Kwame returned, having stopped their two ships, the three pirates rode hard and fast the way they’d come. Only when they slowed to rest the horses did Kwame explain how he’d managed to row out far enough with a white flag he’d used charcoal on to print a single word: Grace.

  Innis had sailed by him, tossing him a line off the port side. Kwame had tied the line to the front of his boat and allowed himself to be towed along until the Breeze had slowed down enough for Innis to come aft and have the crew pull the small boat closer.

  “It was a brilliant move,” Kwame explained, “that would have made Captain O’Malley proud.”

  “There’s a reason Innis is first mate,” Quinn said, dunking her head in the river they had stopped at to rest the horses.

  “I told them to wait at Rogerstown and not to leave until they’d heard from us.”

  “I’ll bet Innis wasn’t agreeable.”

  “Aye, Callaghan, you know him well. He asked what good a crew is if it can’t save its captain from a bunch of hooligans.”

  “How did you convince him to wait?”

  “I told him it was your idea. That was all it took.”

  Getting back up on her horse, Quinn adjusted her sore arse into the hard saddle. “How much further?”

  “Ten miles, more or less. What will we do once we get there?”

  Tavish and Kwame both stared at Quinn, waiting for the answer.

  “We’ll tell them to get their arses back to Clew Bay as fast as they can. We’ll take the best dozen riders we have, get back to Clare as soon as possible, and hope like hell the MacMahons are fighting to take back Doona Castle first.”

  “And if they aren’t? If they’re already at Clare?”

  Quinn grabbed the reins and turned her horse to the left. “Then there’s going to be a lot of dead MacMahons when Innis and the others arrive.”

  * * *

  “They’re coming,” Quinn said, her telescope to her face.

  “How many?”

  She lowered her scope. “Not nearly enough.” She handed the telescope to Tavish, who looked through it. “Two dozen, maybe?”

  Quinn took the scope back. “They’re decoys. They’d never send so few against us by boat.” Taking long strides, Quinn walked over to the opposite side of the castle roof where she had spent the last ten hours waiting. “We’re pirates. They think by sending a boat, we’ll focus on that.” She looked through the telescope at the land behind the castle and nodded slowly. “Yep. there they are.”

  “How many?”

  “Sixty? Seventy? Maybe closer to a hundred.”

  “Then they think we are not a full crew.”

  “Aye. They must believe our crew is in Dublin... or worse.”

  Tavish stared at her. “Layin’ low was verra, verra wise, Callaghan. The men haven’t been too happy aboot bein’ locked up in the castle, but ya were right aboot them thinkin’ we have a skeleton crew.”

  “I don’t care about being right, Tavish. I care about freeing Grace, and we can’t do that if half of us are locked up or killed.”

  “Are ya sure the Malendroke is safe?”

  Quinn started down the stone steps. “Aye. Innis said they left it in Foxglove Cove.”

  “Good. I wish we had the galloglaighs with us.”

  “I’ve thought that several times. We could use a few decent land fighters right about now. I sent word out with Daniels. I figured he was better put to use on the back of a horse.”

  “Let’s hope he was able to find some.”

  When they reached the ground floor, Quinn pulled the men together. Whether it was because she was most like Grace or because they simply trusted her, not a single crew member questioned her taking the lead over Innis or Connor.

  Not one.

  “The ship is a ploy to get us thinkin’ we need to take care of it first. They want us to concentrate our attention on the ship while the rest come at us by land. We need archers up top right now. Do not pay enna attention to whatever is happenin’ on the water. It matters not at all. Go.”

  Eleven men grabbed their bows and quivers and took off up the steps.

  “Innis and Tavish will take the landin’ group around their flank. We want to pin them against the castle and then herd them toward the water. They will think their boat can save them. They will be wrong.”

  Quinn glanced slowly around at the faces looking back at her. “This is her home, our home we’re fightin’ fer. We cannot fail her now. If we lose here, they will surely kill her and the rest of us who live. We are not givin’ them that chance. Today, gentlemen, it’s win or die. Ya all have yer positions. May the goddess protect each and everra one of us.”

  The crew fanned out in all directions as they had done twice before when Clare was attacked. Quinn had both swords out and stood ten paces away from One Eye to her left and Connor to her right. As they waited for what would surely be a bloodbath regardless of who won, she thought about little Gallagher and the world she would grow up in. Would it become more violent, or would Ireland manage to find some peace? As clan attacked clan, was it possible that Elizabeth’s method of rule was actually safer and more profitable for the citizens of Ireland? Were the clan rivalries so antiquated that they were, in fact, hurting Ireland more than helping it?

  She hoped she lived long enough to learn the answers.

  “Callaghan?” one of the archers yelled down. “The MacMahons are not alone.”

  Quinn raced back inside and up the stairs, taking them two at a time. On the roof, she pulled her telescope out. “Where?”

  The archer pointed to an English ship coming around the bay. “What now?”

  “Nothin’ we can do but fight the good fight.”

  “There’s more!”

  Quinn turned to another archer. “Where?”

  “Behind the MacMahons. Mother of god, there must be at least three hundred!”

  Opening her telescope, Quinn scanned the land behind the approaching MacMahons. There they were, upwards of three hundred men joining the battle. By their tartans, she knew who they were. “The MacDougals and MacHughs.”

  The archer looked at Quinn. “Nearly twice as many as we have, Callaghan. It’s not too
late to load us on the Breeze and the Mystery and live to fight another day.”

  Quinn lowered her scope, turned to the archer and punched him in the chest. “We’ll suffer no cowards today, Jonesy. Ya shoot until yer empty, then ya get yer arses downstairs and into the fray. Understand?”

  Jonesy nodded.

  “That goes fer the rest of ya! We are fightin’ fer our home!” With that, Quinn hurried down the stairs and back out with her crew.

  The defense was all wrong.

  Pulling those around her into a tight circle, she knelt down and started drawing in the sand. Pulling up from the far recesses of her mind, some of the lessons she and Patrick had learned as children, she started.

  “The Romans used a phalanx formation to win many battles in which they were outnumbered. I need ya to put our men in this formation on the south and east walls of the castle. Swords in front. On my command, start walkin’. Do not run. The key is to stay in formation. At all costs. Stay. In. Formation. If enna side gives way, we will not live to see tomorrow.”

  “A what?” came the first of many questions.

  “What about the archers?”

  “I’ll have them shoot fer the middle of the pack. Put our strongest in front. And the biggest. But be clear––no runnin’. Stay in formation. Enna questions?”

  “Then we are attackin’ and not defendin’?”

  Quinn nodded. “Aye. Now go.” Whirling back around, Quinn returned up the stairs and to the roof, where she explained their new roles.

  “We’re attackin’?” someone asked from the back.

  She nodded on her way to the stairs. “Aye. They expect us to defend. They most assuredly do not expect us to attack, especially given their numbers.”

  When she reached the bottom again, Innis and Tavish had returned with their men to report what Quinn already knew about their numbers.

  “A phalanx?” Tavish whispered, pulling her aside. “What on earth––”

  “Trust me. I read about it when I was younger. It is the best chance we have at defeatin’ them.”

  He looked dubious. “What aboot the English ship?”