The Pirate’s Redemption
Pirate World
Devils of the Deep
By Ruth A. Casie
Copyright © 2019 Ruth Seitelman
Kindle Edition
This work was made possible by a special license through the Pirates of Britannia Connected World publishing program and has not necessarily been reviewed by DragonMedia Publishing, Inc. All characters, scenes, events, plots and related elements appearing in the original Pirates of Britannia connected series by Kathryn Le Veque and Eliza Knight remain exclusive copyrighted and/or trademarked property of Kathryn Le Veque and/or Eliza Knight, or their affiliates or licensors. All characters created by the author of this novel remain the copyrighted property of the author.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to similarly named places or to persons living or deceased is unintentional.
Published by DragonMedia, Inc.
The Pirates of Britannia World
Seduced by the Pirate
by Maggi Andersen
Captured by the Mercenary
by Brenna Ash
God of the Seas
by Alex Aston
Lord Corsair
by Sydney Jane Baily
Stolen by Starlight
by Avril Borthiry
The Pirate’s Bluestocking
by Chasity Bowlin
The Righteous Side of Wicked
by Jennifer Bray-Weber
The de Wolfe of Wharf Street
by Elizabeth Ellen Carter
The Pirate’s Jewel
The Pirate’s Redemption
by Ruth A. Casie
The Blood Reaver
by Barbara Devlin
The Pirate’s Temptation
by Tara Kingston
Savage of the Sea
The Sea Devil
by Eliza Knight
Leader of Titans
Sea Wolfe
by Kathryn Le Veque
The Marauder
by Anna Markland
The Sea Lyon
The Sea Lord: Devils of the Deep
by Hildie McQueen
Pearls of Fire
by Meara Platt
Plunder by Knight
Beast of the Bay
by Mia Pride
The Seafaring Rogue
The Sea Hellion
by Sky Purington
Laird of the Deep
by B.J. Scott
No Rest for the Wicked
by Lauren Smith
Raider of the Deep
by Jennae Vale
The Ravishing Rees
The Savage Sabre
The Beast of Blades
The Rebellious Red
by Rosamund Winchester
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
The Pirates of Britannia World
The Legend of the Pirates of Britannia
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
About the Author
The Legend of the Pirates of Britannia
In the year of our Lord 854, a wee lad by the name of Arthur MacAlpin set out on an adventure that would turn the tides of his fortune, for what could be more exciting than being feared and showered with gold?
Arthur wanted to be king. A sovereign as great as King Arthur, who came hundreds of years before him. The legendary knight who was able to pull a magical sword from stone, met ladies in lakes, and vanquished evil with a vast following who worshipped him. But while that King Arthur brought to mind dreamlike images of a roundtable surrounded by chivalrous knights and the ladies they romanced, MacAlpin wanted to summon night terrors from every babe, woman and man.
Aye, MacAlpin, king of the pirates of Britannia would be a name most feared. A name that crossed children’s lips when the candles were blown out at night. When a shadow passed over a wall, was it the pirate king? When a ship sailed into port in the dark hours of night, was it him?
As the fourth son of the conquering Pictish King Cináed, Arthur wanted to prove himself to his father. He wanted to make his father proud, and show him that he, too, could be a conqueror. King Cináed was praised widely for having run off the Vikings, for saving his people, for amassing a vast and strong army. No one would dare encroach on his conquered lands when they would have to face the end of his blade.
Arthur wanted that, too. He wanted to be feared. Awed. To hold his sword up and have devils come flying from the tip.
So, it was on a fateful summer night in 854 that, at the age of ten and nine, Arthur amassed a crew of young and roguish Picts and stealthily commandeered one of his father’s ships. They blackened the sails to hide them from those on watch and began an adventure that would last a lifetime and beyond.
The lads trolled the seas, boarding ships and sacking small coastal villages. In fact, they even sailed so far north as to raid a Viking village in the name of his father. By the time they returned to Oban, and the seat of King Cináed, all of Scotland was raging about Arthur’s atrocities. Confused, he tried to explain, but his father would not listen, and would not allow him back into the castle.
King Cináed banished his youngest son from the land, condemned his acts as evil, and told him he never wanted to see him again.
Enraged and experiencing an underlying layer of mortification, Arthur took to the seas, gathering men as he went, and building a family he could trust that would not shun him. They ravaged the sea as well as the land—using his clan’s name as a lasting insult to his father for turning him out.
The legendary Pirate King was rumored to be merciless, the type of vengeful pirate who would drown a babe in his mother’s own milk if she didn’t give him the pearls at her neck. But with most rumors, they were mostly steeped in falsehoods meant to intimidate. In fact, there may have been a wee boy or two he saved from an untimely fate. Whenever they came across a lad or lass in need, as Arthur himself had once been, they took them into the fold.
One ship became two. And then three, four, five, until a score of ships with blackened sails roamed the seas.
These were his warriors. A legion of men who adored him, respected him, followed him, and, together, they wreaked havoc on the blood ties that had sent him away. And generations upon generations, country upon country, they spread far and wide until people feared them from horizon to horizon. Every pirate king to follow would be named MacAlpin, so his father’s banishment would never be forgotten.
Forever lords of the sea. A daring brotherhood, where honor among thieves reigns supreme, and crushing their enemies is a thrilling pastime.
These are the pirates of Britannia, and here are their stories….
Chapter One
Maiden Island, Scotland
March 8, 1267
Late morning
“Not yet, sweetheart. Be patient. I know you have more to give. Just a little more, that’s it. We’re almost there.”
Gareth Talbot stood at the helm of his ship, Fair Wind, the steering stick in one hand and the line, tight in his other.
He had held her back, kept her bow-to-bow with the Avenger during the second leg of the race.
“We’ll give Kipp a taste of your best.” He pulled the line that held the bottom of the sail and coaxed more wind into the sheet. How MacAlpin goaded Kipp, an excellent captain, into taking the sailing challenge, was beyond him. A challenge? No, with Kipp, it was all about him. He hated to lose.
Water sprayed in Gareth’s face. The long, sleek, Fair Wind pulled forward.
The crowd on the shore screamed, some for Kipp and some for him. Others hawked the odds and took bets. It appeared he and his crew would do well today.
The Avenger fell behind, and Gareth glanced at Kipp. He lost the larboard sheet and scrambled for it, but had to let go of the rudder oar.
While his challenger struggled with his lines, Gareth watched the small white caps, and waited. He was in the strait between Maiden and Kerrera Islands, not far from where the wind picked up.
“Get ready.” He closed his eyes and waited for the burst of brisk wind. When it came, his face broke into a wide grin. “Now, my lovely. Let Kipp and his Avenger see your pretty little stern.”
With a steady pull on the line, Gareth adjusted the sail so it filled with more wind. He held the steering stick steady. The bow of the Fair Wind inched away from the Avenger.
Kipp yanked at the line and fought with the rudder oar, and gawked at him as he passed.
“Nice day to be on the water,” Gareth shouted.
Kipp was too startled to say a word.
The gale increased, and the line tugged. Pain from his hand shot up his arm. His hand grew numb as the line ran through his fingers. Curses fell from his lips. His hand was useless, and if he didn’t take action soon, the sail would empty. He dropped the steering stick, grasped the line, and wound it around his good hand, then pulled with all his might. The sail strained and again filled with wind. With disaster avoided, he retrieved the steering stick and reset his heading. The Fair Wind pulled ahead two boat lengths and kept widening the lead.
Gareth crossed the finish line to loud cheers. His arms ached, but the look on Kipp’s face when he sped past him was worth the discomfort. He brought his ship about, so it was against the current, then let the sail go slack. Before the craft had slowed to a crawl, his men rowed out to meet him.
“Captain, another win.” His second-in-command, Sebastian, came on board and clapped him on the back. “You had me worried. Why the long wait? You usually pull ahead sooner.”
Gareth said nothing as Sebastian grabbed his hand.
Gareth’s fingers were stiff and the skin cold to the touch. The deep scars had turned red under the rope burns.
His man glared at him. “Your hand lost all feeling again. I thought this time there’d be no setback.”
Gareth pulled his hand away. “I was careless,” he lied. “What does it matter? The Fair Wind came through.”
“This isn’t the first time your hand has given way.” Sebastian crowded him. “You’re lucky that bastard Englishman didn’t completely crush your hand. Scars as deep as these take time to heal, some never do. It’s not losing the game, but losing your life that worries me.”
“You’re worse than a mother. Bring the ship to her mooring, and I’ll buy you a tankard of ale to drown your worries.” Silently, he agreed with his man; he thought his hand was healed. The pain was bearable, but a hand that didn’t work at the wrong time could mean death to him and his crew.
“Oars,” Sebastian shouted. He shook his head and went to the men.
The crew quickly had the ship tied at the dock. People crowded Gareth with their congratulations. He gave them his thanks, and declined their tankards. He waited on the dock while working his hand and was relieved when his fingers began to flex more easily.
The Avenger approached her mooring, and a wave of cheers rose through the crowd. Kipp threw Gareth the line, and one of Kipp’s men tied the ship to a piling.
“MacAlpin told me you didn’t like the sea. For someone who doesn’t like to sail, you do it well,” Kipp said as he got off the Avenger. “I don’t like being taken in.”
“He didn’t tell you a fish tale. I prefer to stay on land, but that doesn’t mean I don’t know how to sail.”
“One man handling the steering and sail on a ship this large? I will admit, I was lucky to get as far as I did. Come, have a drink, and we’ll play a game of dice—a game I play well.”
“I’m sure it is, but I don’t play games where luck decides the winner. I play games where skill is the determining factor. That is what I do well. But I’ll take that ale,” Gareth said with a smile.
“Ah, there is our winner.” MacAlpin, the pirate king, sat at the back of the tavern, holding court.
Gareth stood at the door with Kipp, and surveyed the crowd. Pirates, some with a woman sitting prettily on their laps, were at the tables drinking or playing dice. Wenches strolled about filling cups and tried to avoid the down-and-out, lusty drunks in favor of those who hadn’t yet lost their coin.
Kipp grabbed an ale from a passing server and handed it to Gareth.
“To my worthy opponent.” Gareth lifted the tankard and drained it dry to the hoots and hollers of everyone in the room, then slammed the empty cup on the table. With a slap on the back, he left Kipp with his crew and moved through the room.
If he had a gold coin for every man who pounded his back, he’d be richer than MacAlpin. But he didn’t complain. The challenge benefited everyone his crew who took in respectable winnings from bets, the challenger who drank a great deal of ale, and the other men who celebrated, feasted, and whored. He continued on toward MacAlpin.
“Ta both our good fortunes.” MacAlpin raised a tankard in salute. “Yer more daring than ye realize. It will git ye in trouble someday.”
“But not today,” Gareth said as he plucked an ale from the next tray of a passing wench. “Today I celebrate by quenching my thirst, and enjoying your fine company.”
“See how my men pay me honor,” MacAlpin said to those who surrounded him.
“Drinks for all,” Gareth shouted, still flushed from the wind. “And you can thank MacAlpin. All hail the king.”
Chairs scraped the floor as they were pushed back and every man stood and saluted. “Ta th’ king.”
“Now, pass th’ ale,” someone shouted as they all settled back in their seats.
“Dinna git ta comfortable. We leave for Morvern soon. We have a delivery for Clan McInnes.” MacAlpin tilted his head to peer behind Gareth.
“On yer feet, boy. Dinna th’ McInnes teach ye manners?” MacAlpin hollered. “Congratulate our winner.”
The poor lad stood shakily, his knuckles white from clasping his hands too tight.
“Congratulations, sir.” The young man was scared to death, but he did an admirable job of presenting himself. Little did he know, he had nothing to fear except possibly his father’s wrath when he returned home.
Gareth let out an awkward cough and winked at the boy. He was impressed with the boy’s bravery in the face of such odds.
“You have my thanks.” Not every pirate had to be a monster. The lad took his seat.
“Are ye sentimental?” MacAlpin stared at Gareth over the edge of his tankard.
The pirate king was in a mischievous mood. His playfulness could take many turns. Where would he go tonight?
“Th’ boy fell in love and was humiliated in front of his clan.” MacAlpin let out a chuckle.
“So, he ran off to be a pirate.” Gareth let out a disgusted snort.
“Why so cynical? Isna that what ye did when Lady Grandville—”
“I served my king as a private citizen with his letter of marque. At his request and with his protection,” Gareth said, jabbing the table with his index finger, “I pillaged and plundered his enemy’s ships. I was not a pirate.”
He glared at MacAlpin, angry because the man spoke the truth. Call it what you will, pillaging and plundering for the king made him the same as every man in the
tavern but with England’s blessing. He, along with the king, MacAlpin, and his men, pursued the same things: wealth, dominance, and control of the seas.
“In th’ long run, ye joined my merry group. No’ staying in any place too long. No’ roots for ye. No woman ta hold ye in one place. When will ye admit ye’re a landless English lord in search of an estate to protect and a lady love?” The pirate king leaned forward as he spoke softly.
“Believe what ye will. But that North Star ye carry won’t help ye find yer true love no’ matter what Collin Reynolds told ye. Now is th’ time for ye ta rid yerself of Grandville.” MacAlpin sat back. “We’ll go on an adventure. Tis one way for me ta git away from th’ crowd, and ye ta dwell on other things. We’ll need yer Fair Wind and ten of yer best men. Finish yer ale. We leave before yer men are ta drunk ta sail.”
Chapter Two
Gilmar, Scotland
September 5, 1267
Afternoon
The MacDougall chieftain of Gilmar sat in the ceremonial seat in the hall at Gilmar Manor dressed in fine breeches, a white shirt, and clan regalia. The large wooden chair with its carved insignia and motto, victory or death, seemed out of place for the new leader. A month ago, sacred words had been spoken, a pledge of fealty to Laird Ewan, the MacDougall chief, and the clan. Why then did she feel an impostor?
Since her twin brother’s death three years ago, Cináed MacDougall groomed his only remaining child well for this eventuality. His daughter, Moira, sat in an ordinary chair next to her father at every negotiation, every dispute, and every celebration. With his guidance and direction, she made judgements, settled grievances, and sang loudly with her clan. Twice a month, they met with his councilors to hear their brief reports. Otherwise, she and her father worked together with the villagers and sailors.
Last year, her father presented her with a great honor, the red and green scarf signifying her position. No matter what she wore, it was always tied to her arm. The words he spoke that day drifted through her mind.