Fire in the Hole (The Plundered Chronicles Book 3) Page 12

  Fitz started for him, but Quinn stopped him. “Another day. Whoever saved us may need our blades.”

  When two men came at Quinn with swords drawn, she slashed the first across the chest, fell to her side, and took out the legs of the second man, who dropped his sword on Quinn’s head, its hilt cracking her forehead open slightly.

  As she wiped the blood away with the back of her hand, she saw a hand reaching for her.

  Raising her sword, she turned just in time to see the face that belonged to the hand.

  “Sayyida?” Quinn asked, seeing the smooth caramel skin of one of Grace’s allies—a woman Quinn had once kissed.

  The beautiful woman, dressed like a pirate with her arm extended, was none other than the Moroccan pirate Sayyida al Hurra.

  “Sayyida?” Quinn took the offered assistance and leapt to her feet.

  “Explanations later,” Sayyida said in Latin. “For now, we must get back to the ship.”

  “I’m not leavin’ without my men.”

  “Of course you aren’t, but to fight here and now is certain death. We shall return at nightfall for the rest of them. You’ve been pierced.”

  When Quinn hesitated, it was Fitz who said, “She’s right, Callaghan. We’ll die if we try to reach him now. Live to fight another day, aye?”

  “Aye.”

  Sayyida lead the way back to the bulk of her archers, who all had arrows notched and were ready to fire.

  “We go to my ship and plan our advance,” Sayyida said, putting her arm around Quinn’s waist. “It wouldn’t be wise to–”

  “I don’t need yer–” Suddenly, Quinn’s legs seemed to give out on her, but Sayyida held her firmly in her grasp. “I’ve got you, Callaghan of the O’Malley clan, and this time I have no intention of letting you go.”

  * * *

  When Quinn came to, she tried to sit up quickly, but a firm hand on her chest prevented any further movement.

  “You are safe, Callaghan, aboard my ship and away from those nasty creatures.”

  Quinn stopped struggling as she looked into Sayyida’s dark eyes. “Fitz?”

  “Eating his way through my galley. He would not leave your side until I told him there was food.”

  “So he chose food over me?”

  Sayyida smiled. “Men are stupid.” Turning from Quinn, Sayyida finished dressing Quinn’s arrow wound. “If I knew which fool shot you, I’d quarter him myself.”

  “There was a great deal goin’ on up there.” Quinn closed her eyes. Her head was pounding, and she ached all over. She reached up to touch her forehead but stopped when Sayyida gently pushed her hand away.

  “You took a hilt to the head, and it split you open. I’ve sewn you up and stopped the bleeding, but your head will hurt for a bit. The rest of your cuts and scrapes I’ve cleaned off. You’ll live.”

  “Thanks to ya. What on earth are ya doin’ here?”

  “This island is evil. It is a pox upon the earth. We did not know you and your men were here until the big Scot was being taken to one of their torture devices.”

  “He saw ya.”

  She nodded. “As soon as I saw him, I knew you were not far away, so we waited for an opportunity to come for you. We were almost too late.”

  “Tavish saved us by tellin’ Esteban we were heretics.”

  “Your Scotsman is a brave, brave man.”

  Quinn’s eyes welled up with tears. “Yes. Yes, he is. That’s why I must return fer him. Dead or alive, he is comin’ back with me.”

  Sayyida barely nodded as she brushed the damp hair from Quinn’s forehead. “You are no less courageous, Callaghan. You fought brilliantly out there and saved your man named Fitz.”

  Opening her eyes, Quinn stared into the dark brown eyes of Sayyida al Hurra. “I... I don’t know how to thank ya.”

  “Because you needn’t. As I recall, you saved my life once. We are now indebted to each other.”

  Quinn sat up, her face inches from the beautiful woman. “No. I am indebted to ya fer life. We were dead men.”

  Sayyida raised her eyebrow.

  “Ya know what I mean. I just... I can’t believe ya are here.” Quinn lightly touched Sayyida’s cheeks with her fingertips.

  Sayyida took them and kissed each fingertip. “My beautiful pirate. When I saw your Scot, I dreaded what I might find. I feared for the worst—and then he called out my name, and that was when I knew you were still alive.” Leaning into Quinn, Sayyida kissed her gently. “I’ve thought about our kiss in the water many a time since you jumped in to save me. Many a time. And each time, I longed for more.”

  Quinn wrapped her arms around Sayyida and pulled her into another kiss. This one lasted the longest of them all; they kissed like lovers who had spent a lifetime loving each other.

  It ended only because of a knock on the door.

  Sayyida spoke to her crewman in Berber, and he disappeared.

  “What was that all about?”

  “My men are ready.”

  “Ready fer what?”

  Sayyida kissed Quinn’s forehead. “To do what we came here for.”

  “Which is what?”

  “To destroy every man on the council and burn this island to the ground.”

  Quinn stared at her. “Ya can kill everra one of those sons of bitches, but ya leave Esteban to me.” An icy hand gripped Quinn’s heart. She vowed to herself that the blood of the man who ordered Connor and Tavish tortured would be on her hands before sunup.

  “Of course, but I cannot promise anything. We must, like a cobra, strike quickly and slither away before anyone can stop us.”

  Quinn nodded, the thumping of her head lessening with every passing moment.

  “We shall strike at one, when the night is darkest and they believe we have sailed away. Until then, if you feel... better, perhaps you can show me your gratitude.” Sliding her hands up Quinn’s back, Sayyida kissed her softly. “This will only hurt a little bit.”

  * * *

  Midnight saw Sayyida and Quinn on the deck. A translator stood by to repeat to Quinn and Fitz what Sayyida was saying to her crew.

  “Men, we embark on a mission from our people’s leader: to lay waste to those who would torture and maim us for our beliefs. This enemy is evil unlike anything we’ve known. Their devices of torture have dismantled the beautiful bodies of our loved ones; their religion is unforgiving and intolerant. We have been charged with the complete destruction of this village and the council that lives within its walls. No one is exempt from our wrath. Not women. Not children. Not the aged. The message we send these Catholic whoremongers is a simple one: An eye for an eye, a death for a death. Show no mercy. Show no remorse.”

  Fitz leaned over to Quinn and whispered, “She’s gonna slaughter innocent people?”

  Quinn slowly turned. “Haven’t ya seen enough of what they can do, Fitz? There are no innocents. There is only a message to deliver to that halfwit, King Philip of Spain. I not only agree with what Sayyida is gonna do, I respect it.”

  Fitz nodded. “Then we shall scorch the earth and everraone on it.”

  “That is the plan.”

  As the boats were lowered into the water, Sayyida stood with Quinn. “You go get your Scot. We will destroy those on the council and set fire to this shitty little village. You’ll need to move quickly and secure his release as fast as you can.”

  “There is an African—Kwame—who came with us”

  Sayyida lightly touched Quinn’s cheek. “I’ve seen no African, but if I do, I shall bring him with us. Now... I have grown rather fond of you, Callaghan of the O’Malley clan. Very fond, indeed. Your kisses linger on my lips unlike any other’s. I never believed I would have your lips on mine again, but I see a pain in your eyes that only a woman can cause. If you will let me, I can ease some of your pain and bring you great joy.”

  Quinn kissed her palm. “I believe I would like that verra much.”

  “Then do not act foolishly or rashly tonight—and come back to me.�
��

  Those words echoed in her head. They were exactly what Becca always said to Quinn whenever she left her room. “Come back to me.”

  Becca had never not been there when Quinn had returned to Galway or Clare Island. She’d always been there with open arms, never questioning who Quinn had been with or what she’d been doing.

  “The pain ya see is from losses I have experienced in the past and those I’ve yet to feel. These bastards tore my friend apart, Sayyida, and to cease his pain, I had to take his life.”

  “Oh my love, my sweet, sweet one. I can’t imagine–”

  “So I am teeterin’ on rash and leanin’ toward foolish, and if Tavish is dead, I shall spill enough blood to put out yer fire.”

  Sayyida barked orders to her crew. “We are nearly ready. You and your man will have to wade in. Then we shall leave the boats guarded at a rocky cove we spotted earlier. It will be difficult to find at night, but I believe we can find it as we get closer. Are you ready?”

  Quinn nodded.

  “I know that we do what we do in the name of Allah, Callaghan. Be sure you know why you do what you do.”

  Staring up at the moon, Quinn touched the place on her neck here the noose had lain.

  She knew exactly why she was going to do what she’d planned. The reasons were plain and simple.

  Loyalty and retribution.

  * * *

  When the small boat came to a rest upon the water, Sayyida held Quinn’s hands in hers. “We must set sail before dawn, Callaghan, or we are at risk of being hunted down by the Armada.”

  “I understand. We need to find our way back to yer ship before dawn.”

  “Precisely. I do not wish to leave you, sweet one, but I must take care of my crew. I’m sure you understand.”

  “I do. If ya cannot locate us, we will be at the northernmost point of the island.”

  Sayyida cocked her head in question. “Northernmost point on the island?”

  “Aye. It is where Kwame chose fer us to meet. If we are not back to the ship by dawn and ya sail by the northern shores, look fer us.”

  “That I can do, Callaghan. Be safe. Be smart. And know this above all else: You are loved.”

  Easing into the cold water, Quinn waited for Fitz to join her.

  “Do ya have a plan, Callaghan?”

  “Ya mean besides killin’ everraone we meet? Yes. We need to go to the area around the torture chambers and see if Tavish is there. If he is badly injured, they’ll not have moved him verra far.”

  Fitz sighed loudly.

  “What?”

  “Ya don’t really expect to find him alive, do ya?”

  “I’m not leavin’ here without him, either way, Fitz. He’d do the same fer me.”

  “Aye. That he would.”

  Once ashore, Quinn pulled out the two swords Sayyida had given her. Along with replacing her long sword and short sword, she’d gotten new daggers and water pouches.

  “Kill everraone?” Fitz asked.

  Quinn nodded. “Everraone. Haven’t ya ever heard that dead men tell no tales?”

  “Aye. I just never thought... never mind.”

  “That I would never be so cold blooded and merciless? Fitz, those people came to watch us hang as if we were some sort of entertainment. That’s not innocent. That is blindly followin’ a vicious god. No, they must die everra bit as much as the men who tortured Connor. When ya hesitate, Fitz, ya remember they came to watch.”

  Fitz nodded and threw his shoulders back. “Aye.”

  They made it safely to shore not far from the dungeon. The rocky shores made walking a bit harder as they had to pick their way around some of the larger boulders.

  Making their way around to the back, Quinn was surprised there was no resistance, no doubling up of the guards. That was when she realized the Spanish had never thought they would actually return.

  Why would they?

  They’d been tortured, killed, nearly hanged, and saved by heretics who came out of nowhere to rescue them. Only lunatics would come back to the Spanish Inquisition. Only someone soft in the head would risk the rack again.

  Quinn grinned malevolently.

  She liked thinking of herself as touched in the head. It made what she was going to do easier to accept.

  Not that she had any problems with the death and destruction she was going to impart.

  They had tortured her friends. Her mates. Her family.

  And they were going to pay.

  * * *

  It didn’t take long for them to scope out the area around the dungeon and torture rooms. Quinn counted no fewer than a dozen guards on the perimeter.

  “Someone is still alive in there, or they wouldn’t be guardin’ it,” Fitz whispered.

  Quinn nodded and tightened her grip on the unfamiliar sword handle. Twelve in the dark would be tough. If they yelled out, there would be more. What they needed was a way to cut them down silently.

  “Callaghan?”

  “We need to slit their throats. If they sound the alarm, we’re dead.”

  “Agreed.”

  Making their way around toward a large door, Quinn stopped to wait for Fitz. As she did, a hand snaked around her mouth and pulled her behind a rock.

  Quinn grabbed at the hand, struggling against the roughness against her face.

  “Jesus, Callaghan, are ya daft?”

  The hand released her. When she turned around, there was One Eye.

  “One Eye?” Quinn threw her arms around the crusty sailor’s neck. She’d never been happier to see his scarred and scraggily mug.

  “Stop huggin’ me, ya pansy ass.” His words were sharp, but his delivery was not. “Damn good to see ya, mate. I saw that female captain take ya off the island, and I been prayin’ ya was comin’ back fer Big Red.”

  “One Eye?” Fitz asked, rounding the corner.

  “Keep yer voices down, man,” One Eye grumbled. “There’s an underground tunnel which leads to their damnable torture chamber. If we attack in there, they can’t sound an alarm or call fer help. Gives us the best chance fer success.”

  Quinn could only stare at him.

  “I been here a while, Callaghan, and I’ve had plenty of time to check out this place. I know it like the back of me hand. Yer here to get Red, right?”

  “Yes. Is he... do ya know if he is–”

  “Alive? I do not know. He stopped screamin’, and I haven’t heard ennathin’ from him since. That’s all I know.”

  “We’re bringin’ him home either way, Eye. It doesn’t matter. We’re not leavin’ him on this bloody island.”

  “I hear ya, Callaghan. I really do. What they done to Connor... ” He shook his head. “Bastards gotta pay—and then some. I know the way in.”

  “Good to see ya, ya swarthy prick,” Fitz said, clapping One Eye on the back. “We thought ya’d done yerself in.”

  “Hardly. I knew the current would carry one barrel and a skinny man faster than eight and yer fat arses. So I rolled the dice and wound up here. If I died, at least I gave it a shot, ya know?” One Eye smiled. “I may have only one eye, but me brain still works pretty good.”

  “And ya couldn’t have maybe mentioned it?”

  One Eye grinned, and his blackened teeth looked like small pebbles. “Callaghan, ya’d never have let me do it, so I went on me own.”

  Fitz looked over at Quinn. “He has ya there.”

  “Now, about the tunnel,” One Eye continued. “It runs right under the dungeon, and there are maybe ten, twelve guards down there at enna time. Once we get inside, as long as none can get topside to call fer help, we oughtta run ’em through in no time.”

  “Then what?”

  “Then we find Red and fight our way outta here.”

  “But what if... what if he’s... ” Quinn couldn’t bring herself to say the word.

  “Dead? If he’s dead, Callaghan, he’d want ya to leave him and get offa the island. If he’s hurt too bad to run fer it, I say we grab a wheelbarrow
and dump him into it and go as far as we can with it. Red’s too thick fer us to carry him verra far. They use the wheelers to haul sand from the beach.”

  Fitz cocked his head. “Fer?”

  “Buryin’ folks alive. They bury them up to their chins, pour honey on their faces, and let the bugs at ’em.”

  Quinn involuntarily shuddered. “That’s... that’s–”

  “That’s the Inquisition,” One Eye said.

  Pulling herself together, Quinn held her sword in front of her. “No one who sets eyes on us lives. Are ya clear? Ennaone and everraone who sees us must die.”

  They both nodded.

  “Show us, Eye. Get us to that tunnel.

  And he did.

  The moment they entered it, the stench of fear, death, and decay filled Quinn’s nostrils. “Such a foul odor.”

  “Aye. The smell of men’s fear never goes away.”

  “One Eye, ya guard this door to make sure no one goes in or out. Fitz, ya and I will silence the guards.”

  Carefully easing her way down the torch-lit tunnel, Quinn held her short sword in front of her, her long sword hanging loosely from her waist. The tunnel was too narrow for the long sword, and besides, they needed to kill quickly and quietly.

  When they came to a slight bend, she pulled Fitz back. “Keep him alive until he tells us where Tavish is.”

  Fitz nodded.

  “Then kill him.”

  As they slid around the corner, the guard, whose chin rested on his chest, was fast asleep. Fitz pressed the tip of his sword into the man’s neck, waking him up.

  “Yell, and ya’re a dead man.”

  The guard blinked quickly and nodded.

  “Where is the Scotsman?” Quinn asked. Drawing from her limited Spanish, she added. “Donde. Esta. Rojo. Hombre?”

  Understanding now, the guard started jabbering quickly. Quinn grabbed him by the hair and yanked his head back to slit his throat.”

  “Allí, Allí! Está allí. Allí,” he blurted, pointing down the tunnel.

  “Dónde? Qué puerta?” she asked.

  The guard held up five fingers.

  Fitz nodded to Quinn. “The fifth door.”

  Quinn released the man’s hair, and Fitz shoved his sword through the guard’s chest.