Pirate Queen Read Free Page A

the dock below the tower house on Clare Island. ‘Stay away from the shore, the sea is not safe for children,’ Margaret, her mother, had often said. But Granuaile was enchanted by the shining, leaping waves, with their crests of white foam. One day she persuaded Dubhdara to take her as far as Achill Island in his boat. The sea was rough but the little girl was not seasick. Her father was very proud. When they returned home, he laughed at his wife’s fears. ‘My daughter is an O’Malley,’ he said. ‘She’s a born seahorse !’
    As a reward, Dubhdara gave Granuaile a coracle of her own – a small, round boat made of hide stretched over a wooden frame. She could paddle herself around in the shallows, and for a time she was satisfied. But not for long. The open sea beckoned to her, a great blue kingdom stretching from sunrise to sunset!
    Granuaile’s next boat was a currach – a long, narrow fishing boat, sealed with pitch to keep the water out. Her father’s sailors did the rowing while she rode in the prow, gliding back and forth among the islands that dotted the bay. She liked to pretend that she was a white seahorse. Or a ship’s captain, like her father. Giving orders. Going to exotic places.
    Dubhdara captained the O’Malley fleet on long trading voyages. Some leaders are cruel to their men, but Granuaile’s father always believed that praise wins more than punishment. The men and young lads who sailed with him adored him. When they came home they toldwonderful stories of their adventures in faraway lands.
    Granuaile listened eagerly to their tales. ‘Having to stay home with the women is worse than being in a prison,’ she complained.
    ‘But you are a woman, or soon will be,’ insisted her mother. She dressed Granuaile’s hair in curls and plaits and made her wear petticoats that were always getting in the way. Margaret did everything she could to keep her daughter from going out in a boat. ‘I am always afraid something will happen,’ she said.
    ‘Nothing is happening!’ Granuaile would argue. ‘Nothing! I am getting older and older and everything around me is staying just the same.’
    One fine spring morning in her eleventh year, the girl cut off her long hair and disguised herself as a boy. She sneaked on board her father’s largest trading galley and hid in the cargo hold. She would never forget the way cold water sloshed around her ankles, or the ancient smell of fish that clung to the timbers. Listening to the hiss of water beneath the vessel, she waited for the hours to pass. At last she fell asleep. She woke up chilled and stiff, but at sea. At sea!
    When she was sure they had travelled too far to turn back, she went up on deck.
    At first Dubhdara was angry, or pretended to be. He started to scold her, then began to laugh instead. His laughter was a great, happy roar, like a huge wave breaking . Granuaile rode on the crest of that wave, knowing that everything would be all right. The Black Oak couldnever remain angry with his daughter for very long. She was too much like him.
    After that she went on every voyage and learned to handle every type of ship. ‘If God does not give me a suitable son, at least he has given me Granuaile,’ Dubhdara is given to say. ‘There is no sailor her equal on Clew Bay.’

Chapter Four
The Queen across the Sea
September, the Year of Our Lord 1569, Rockfleet
    My dear son,
    I am sending you away to be fostered. You are too young to understand, but this is an ancient custom in Ireland . Fosterage creates strong ties between the clan of the original parents and that of the foster parents. Many useful alliances are forged in this way.
    I would have preferred to keep you with me. You are the last babe I shall ever have. But I must think of your future.
    There is a powerful woman across the Irish Sea whom I have never met. She does not know me, yet I can sense Elizabeth Tudor lurking like a great black spider high up in the corner of a room. Three years ago