Page 73 of The Pirate Queen

“They aren’t fecking Vikings.” Grace sighs in exasperation.

O’Neill says, “But you won’t be there to keep them in check, will you? Not with your ships shattered along the beach in Culdaff.”

The scavengers had found them late that first afternoon, and O’Neill scouts not long afterward. But that had been a good thing, for Grace had been able to send word requesting this audience. Guarding the ships themselves has proven more difficult.

“Half of my men will stay in Culdaff and repair the ships. The other half will go to Mayo with the Gallowglass,” she tells them.

They are not friends, these men, but the Hughs study each other, trying to speak without words. O’Neill breaks the deliberation first, turning to Clara. His eyes fall to her belly and he considers the child, the legacy of two clans—a hope still unrealized. He clears his throat.

“How can we be certain your Gallowglass will follow your command?”

“You have Scottish mercenaries of your own living and working in these lands. Even if you call them Redshanks. Don’t pretend mine will cause you any trouble. You’ll let us through or you won’t.”

“And what if we want more than your assurances?” O’Donnell asks.

“You mean to extract payment for what has always been a courtesy?”

Oh, she could kill them both. O’Neill fostered with her son for three years! And this is the loyalty, the kinship he shows? She is opening her mouth to excoriate them both when O’Neill steps in.

“You misinterpret my father-in-law. He does not want your coin. He wants—”

“—your promise,” O’Donnell interrupts. “The promise of clan O’Malley, which you speak for, even if unofficially. Clan O’Flaherty, which your son leads. And clan Bourke as well.”

“Assurance of what?” she asks.

Grace had thought she was the one in need of favors today.

“You are correct that the English gather against us,” O’Donnell says. “But you are wrong in thinking that we turn a blind eye to the threat.”

“Or that we have been idle,” O’Neill adds.

“What have you done?” she asks.

“How long were you held captive in Dublin Castle?” O’Donnell asks in return.

“Almost three months. What has that to do with anything?”

“A great deal. There are rumors.”

“Of?”

“The Spanish,” he says. “Whispers of an invasion. Not just a fleet, but an armada. King Philip wants to deliver England from Elizabeth’s heresy. He wants to show that queen what happens to those in defiance of his God,” O’Donnell says, with obvious disdain for religious squabbles. “But what happens between those powers affects us greatly. And if Spain sails against England, we have a common purpose.”

“You have formed an alliance with Spain?” she asks in disbelief.

“We have,” O’Neill says. “An unprecedented number of ships gather in the Spanish ports. They will attack, and when they do, the attention of the English queen will be divided. It will be our chance to break the shackles she has kept us in these many years.”

A sticky web indeed. Grace cannot help but think of Walsingham and the English queen. How quickly they would set a noose around her neck if they learned of this conversation.

“And what is it, exactly, you ask of me?”

“That you stand with us,” O’Donnell says. “Spain will rise against the English within the year. And when they do, they’ll have to move through Irish waters. Which means they will need help from the clans. We mean to give it. So yes, your Gallowglass can move through Ulster. But in exchange, you must stand with Ulster when the time comes. The English are too strong. And this island cannot fight them on our own. The Spanish are our only hope.”

O’Neill drives their point home. “We need you to unite the full strength of clans O’Malley, O’Flaherty, and Bourke to aid us in defeating the English.”

“You are asking for all of Connaught,” she says.

He nods. “It will take nothing less if we are to prevent the English from entering our lands.”