Dead Man's Chest (The Plundered Chronicles Book 5)

by Alex Westmore

  Quinn followed Becca for a couple of steps before stopping and pulling out her sword.

  Becca quickly whirled around. “Easy, easy, love. It’s just my man.”

  “Your… man?”

  “Things bein’ as they are these days. Lady Pettigrew insisted I have more security, so she has a guard followin’ me around. Most annoyin’, but also needed.”

  Slowly sheathing her sword, Quinn asked, “Why needed?”

  “I see and hear a great deal, as ya know.” Becca lowered her voice. “And he’s here now because I received a message a week ago from Lord Moynihan.”

  Quinn turned quickly. “He’s still alive? I have thought about him often, hoping beyond hope that Robert hadn’t killed him for allowing me to escape with Bog.”

  “Oh, he’s alive. Robert has kept him in the house these years.”

  “You mean he’s never left the Castle Black Rock?”

  “We all thought him dead, of course.” Becca sighed. “But he may not be alive for long if we can’t get some help to him. It is why I came to see you as soon as I heard you were returning.”

  Quinn didn’t bother questioning how she knew. Becca had many, many sources along the coast. “Help? What kind of help?”

  “He fell ill two weeks ago and Lord Moynihan suspected poison. He knew he had to get out or he would be dead by month’s end. Apparently, Robert was going to forge his signature and give the castle and all of the Lord’s holdings to Gallagher and you.”

  “But he already—”

  “I imagine, since you are gone longer and longer at sea, that Robert was hoping you were dead.”

  “And with me and Gallagher dead, and a new will in place, Robert would get it all.”

  Becca nodded. “More than likely that was his plan. The Lord was able to get a messenger out… not the first one, mind you. We suspect others had been killed immediately after or never made it out at all. This messenger came to me…asking to speak privately with you upon your return. Lord Moynihan is a prisoner in the caste…and is slowly dyin’.”

  Quinn stopped and grabbed Becca’s arm. “So no one has been able to get in or out? For how long?”

  Becca held her hand up to stop her guard. “It’s all right.”

  Quinn released her. “Did one of those messengers happen to reach out to Lady Killigrew?”

  Becca looked away. “That is possible, of course. Why do you ask?”

  “Just curious is all. Not important.” Quinn thought about the apparent fortuitous way in which Lady Killigrew showed up in time to help her and her crew…and with two other ships, no less. The more she thought about it, the less fortuitous is appeared.

  “The important thing is that yer here and Lord Moynihan needs yer help.” Becca stepped closer. “Love, Robert is a verra dangerous man with a lot of English and Irish supporters. Ya can’t do what ya normally would do. You can’t just charge in there. Ya won’t make it within a mile of the place. You need to be smart about this. Robert would love nothin’ more than to kill ya both. He expects ya to come in fast and hard. Don’t give him what he wants.”

  “If the Lord has been poisoned, we must act quickly. For all we know…”

  “He is still alive. That much I know.”

  “I’ll leave in the morning.”

  “Not alone.”

  Quinn looked through the windows of the tavern at her crew. They were laughing and partying so hard, the walls nearly rattled. “Thank you for letting me know.”

  “Callaghan. I know that look.”

  “I heard you, Becca, but I can’t ask enna of my men to stay back again. They need to see their families. They need a moment to catch their breath. I can’t go back on that. I mean, look at them.”

  Becca did not bother to look. “What about Tavish?”

  Quinn shook her head. “No.”

  “Then take Derry with you.” She flicked her hand at ‘her man.’

  Quinn glanced once at Becca’s man. “Really?” She looked at the man in charge of protecting Becca.

  “He is a skilled bowman and not bad with the sword.”

  “Not bad? How good is not bad?”

  “Not pirate good, but better than Robert’s guards good.”

  Quinn chuckled. “I’ve missed you.”

  “No, you haven’t, but I appreciate the lie. Will you take Derry? Please?”

  Quinn looked at the skinny man lurking in the shadows. “Yes. Fine. I gratefully accept the help of your man.” To Derry, Quinn said, “We leave in the morning at daybreak. Do not be late.”

  Derry bowed his head. “Aye…”

  “My men call me sir, Captain, or Callaghan.”

  Derry nodded. “Then I shall see you at daybreak, Captain.”

  After Becca dismissed him, she stepped even closer to Quinn. “You understand how much Robert despises you, aye? He has been waiting a long time to end this with you and get his daughter back.”

  Quinn nodded. “I took his only child. He should despise me.”

  “And well he does.

  “To kill Fiona and then poison her father in order to get his hands on his fortune and lands? It is time he paid for his sins…and there are many.”

  Becca licked her lips and sighed loudly. “She was a good woman, your Fiona. In one fell swoop, she changed the course of my life forever. Look at me now, Callaghan. I am a business woman. I am successful. All because of her. She did not deserve to die in such a manner.”

  Quinn visibly shuddered. The French Pox, given to her by her unfaithful husband, had poisoned her system, killed her unborn child, and eventually killed Fiona, who took her own life to avoid the pain and suffering caused by the pox.

  “She did not.”

  “And yet, you never sought revenge.”

  Quinn sighed, feeling the weight of that inaction as she did every morning when she woke up. Yes, she had wanted to outright kill Robert, but what did that make her except the murderer of Gallagher’s father? She simply could not risk making Gallagher hate her for killing her only remaining parent.

  They stood together a moment under the moonlit sky, needing no words to describe their feelings of the past or thoughts about the present.

  “I better go in.”

  “Aye. She’ll be worried.”

  Quinn frowned. “She?”

  “The young woman who can’t keep her eyes off you.”

  “Kaylish? Don’t be silly. Again, she has shown not the least bit of interest in me.”

  Becca chuckled. “Maybe not yet, but you have a way of makin’ women fall fer ya. Keep yer wits about ya with that one, my love. It was really wonderful seein’ ya again, Captain Callaghan. I couldn’t be prouder when I’d heard ya left Grace to sail yer own ship.”

  “Have you seen her?”

  “Just before she left for the fight with England. She is… quieter now. Keeps to herself. The woman I knew no longer exists. I think losin’ her son broke her a bit. Losing you? Well now, I don’t know that her heart will ever be unbroken. I understand why you left her and took most of her best men, but it came at quite a price to Grace’s spirit.”

  “It might have been the right thing to do, but that mutiny still keeps me awake at night.”

  “Missin’ her?”

  “Leaving her.”

  Becca chuckled softly. “Leavin’ women is what you do, Callaghan. She was just harder to leave than the others.”

  “Becca—”

  She laid her two fingers on Quinn’s lips. “Shh. Not important, sweet one. We all made our choices.”

  “Can you find a safe place for Kaylish and Gallagher to stay. Someplace close to the docks but far enough in the event sends enna one for them?”

  “I have just the place. They will be safe there. Trust me, love, I know how much that little girl means to ya.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Now, don’t you leave here without Derry. He may not look like much, but he can shoot a fly from a tree at fifty paces. He could really come in handy. Now, get
some rest, and please, please, please be careful tryin’ to get into Castle Blackrock.”

  “I will be verra careful, Becca, because if I am to help, I cannot go alone. Lord Moynihan needs help I can’t give… but I know someone who can.”

  “And my guess is she’s been waitin’ to see ya.”

  Quinn left early in the morning and they rode for almost four hours straight without stopping to rest. For his part, Derry rode quite well and, thankfully, without the need for idle chit-chat.

  It never ceased to amaze her how Bronwen could live her life out here in the wilds of Ireland, where there was no village for miles, and yet, just as Becca had said, Bronwen had been waiting for her.

  “Quinn.” Bronwen said, embracing Quinn as soon as she dismounted. “It’s been far too long, old friend.”

  Quinn hugged Bronwen tightly, inhaling her scent as an animal might. “I have missed you so.”

  Bronwen stood back and gazed at Quinn. “You need to eat better. You are not caring for yourself enough.”

  Quinn motioned for Derry to dismount, but he shook her off.

  “My job is to prevent enna thin’ from happenin’ to yas. My mistress would have me head if I allowed that, so if ya don’t mind, I’ll jus’ stay here and keep an eye out.”

  “Fine.” Quinn laced her arm around Bronwen’s waist as they walked a bit back to her encampment.

  Long ago, when Bronwen understood her calling, she left Quinn, Kennedy, and Shea to live among nature in order to learn her craft from an elder Priestess.

  She never returned.

  “You know why I am here?”

  Bronwen nodded. “I keep informed. Let me get my things and we can be gone.”

  They were “gone” ten minutes later, riding until dusk to just outside the town where Blackrock Castle stood overlooking the crashing and angry sea below.

  “We can leave the horses here,” Bronwen said in Quinn’s ear. “I have friends here who will take good care of them and keep your presence here a secret.”

  As each stretched and rubbed their sore asses, Quinn checked their weapons, tied their horses up, and went over one more time their plan to get inside Castle Black Rock.

  “We know Robert’s men are lying in wait, watching. We need to get in as close as we can without alarming them. Once we are found out, we will either have to fight or flee. I’d much rather do neither. If I can reach one of Lord Moynihan’s guards, we might get assistance to reach the castle unmolested.”

  “Quinn,” Bronwen said softly, using Quinn’s real name once more. “If Robert’s men know or suspect you all in the castle, we will never get out.”

  “Indeed. Already, I am sure news has reached Robert that we have docked. I’ve left the Scots and the galloglaighs on board to protect the ship, and I am not worried about him finding Gallagher. Becca would cleave a man in two before letting that happen.”

  Bronwen nodded. “She can be brutal when need be, eh?”

  Quinn nodded. “I trust her. So, if we are caught getting in or caught while there, this will not go well for us. Secrecy from beginning to end is our only option.”

  Derry nodded. “It will be harder getting out than getting in.”

  “Aye. Neither will be easy, but we have little time to spare.”

  “Not if he’s been poisoned. A poisoned man can die at enna time,” Bronwen said softly. “For all we know, he could already be dead.”

  “Well, we’re about to find out.”

  As they slowly and carefully made their way along the rocky coast, Quinn kept her eyes on the few lit windows high up in the castle. “From here on, no one speaks. Understood?”

  They both nodded. Then Quinn silently moved along what she knew was the perimeter of Blackrock’s guard area. The night’s darkness made it easier to avoid the sentries but harder to move forward.

  “Down!” Quinn whispered.

  All three ducked down.

  “Moynihan guards,” Quinn whispered, “Are just as bad as Roberts’ men. Trust no one.”

  For almost an hour, they picked their way through the rocks until Quinn knelt down and watched as the two guards chatted and laughed.

  Tavish’s friends.

  Could she trust them?

  She could not take that chance. She couldn’t kill them, either, in the event they were still loyal to Lord Moynihan.

  It appeared they might just have to fight their way to Lord Moynihan without killing anyone since she did not know who was friend or foe.

  Easier said than done.

  When they came to the stone wall surrounding the castle, Quinn turned to the others. “We cannot kill allies. We cannot afford to lose those who would help up by accidentally killing their friends. We are going to have to face them without weapons. Bronwen?”

  Bronwen nodded and pulled a blue powder out of a brown leather pouch. “If I can get close enough to them, this will put them to sleep.”

  Quinn grinned. “Excellent. We will be right here with arrows drawn. If enna one reaches for a weapon, Derry will put an arrow in them.”

  “Dead?”

  Quinn nodded. “Immediately dead, aye.”

  Bronwen held Quinn’s hand. “No one will draw a weapon on me, Quinn. I assure you. I will be perfectly safe.’”

  And she was.

  Quinn watched as Bronwen acted like a sweet and lost traveler before blowing the blue powder in their faces. The two guards slumped over, their weapons still in their sheathes.

  “She’s a brave one,” Derry whispered as they sprinted for the back gate, where Bronwen waited at sword point.

  “Halt!” the guard ordered.

  Quinn and Derry came to an abrupt halt and raised their hands in the air.

  The guard squinted through the dark. “Callaghan? Is that you?”

  Quinn peered through the din. “Taran?”

  The guard lowered his sword. “I’ll be damned. You came!” Taran wrapped his arms around Quinn’s neck and lifted her off the ground. “Lord Moynihan will be so happy to see you. He is not well though… not well at all. Is that why ya’ve come?”

  “Aye.” Quinn straightened her clothes when her feet were back on the ground. “I’ve heard. I brought a healer.”

  “Bless you, Callaghan. We’ve been waiting for one to come, but they never make it.”

  “Can you get us into the castle without enna one being the wiser?”

  Taran grinned. “Oh aye. Come. Follow me.”

  Quinn and the other two followed Taran up the stairs and through the dark back corridors of the castle.

  Quinn thought she knew the castle well from her time with Fiona, but even these dark passages were new to her.

  When they came to the master’s room, Taran stopped at the large double doors. “I need not introduce you, Callaghan. I shall stay out here in the event you were followed.”

  The sentry at the door stepped in front of Taran. “No one is allowed in.”

  “I am not no one, you imbecile. I am the Master of arms of this castle and I—”

  “You have no power here. Back away before I consider your act of aggression.”

  Taran turned to say something to Quinn before whirling back around toward the sentry, punching him in the mouth and then hitting him in the head with the hilt of his sword.

  “Thank you, Taran. I truly appreciate it,” Quinn said, coming up behind him. “I hope you don’t pay for that later.

  “Do not worry about me, Callaghan. I just hope your healer can do something. He is getting worse every day.”

  Bronwen held up her hand. “If that is the case, then it appears someone in his employ is still poisoning him.”

  Taran threw his shoulders back. “There are only a handful of us whom he will still see.”

  “Round them up, please,’ Bronwen said, “but do not give them any indication why, and do not allow enna one to wash their hands.”

  Taran cut a look to Quinn, who nodded. “Do exactly as she says, Taran. If one of Robert’s men is respons
ible, I wish to know. Keep this close to your chest.”

  Taran’s eyes were round. “If this is true, it appears ya didn’t get here a moment too soon, Callaghan. You’ve been sorely missed.”

  When Taran swiftly charged down the stairs, Bronwen leveled her gaze at Quinn. “We are in the spider’s web here. Trust no one.”

  “He’s a good man, Bronwen. He’s one of Tavish’s friends.”

  Bronwen cocked her head at the downed guard. “Is he, Quinn? He just knocked a man out in order to let you into his chambers. To do so means if he is caught, Robert will most definitely have him killed. Why would he do that?”

  Quinn frowned a the question. She had no answers “Then the sooner we tend to him, the better our chances are of getting out.”

  Derry cleared his throat. “I’ll stand guard, Callaghan. I don’t get a good feeling about this Taran or his people.” Pulling out his bow, Taran notched an arrow in it. “Be swift.”

  Nodding, Quinn opened the large double doors to the chambers to find a very thin, very grey Lord Moynihan lying on the bed with his hands clasped together across his chest.

  He looked as one would in a casket.

  Sitting next to his bed was his physician, who leapt to his feet when he saw them.

  “Callaghan! You came.”

  Quinn studied the man who had not been able to save Fiona. “I would have been here sooner, Francis, had I known he was ill.”

  His eyes began darting all around. “How is Gallagher? Did you bring her with you?”

  Francis’ eyes scanned the area behind Quinn and Bronwen.

  “Actually, we did,” Quinn said. “She is safely ensconced at the small cottage near the creek.”

  He nodded and started around the bed. “It would truly give the Lord more vitality if he could see her. He has missed her so desperately. I believe he took ill upon grieving after her ladyship after she passed away.”

  Quinn unclenched her jaw at his obvious prevarication. “Has he been ill all these years then?”

  “No. No, of course not. He caught something halfway through the year and has been gradually getting worse. I have tried everything”

  “How is he?”

  “He is resting now, as he does most of the day. A light shake will wake him. Shall I go get his granddaughter? We can her here in no time.”