Chapter Twenty-One
Lowri ran as fast as her heaving breath would allow, holding tight to Connie’s hand. Cullen had snarled, ‘Stay put,’ and then ridden away. He did not stop to question or think. He just got on his horse without a backward glance.
Lowri had followed him, and Connie had followed her, loudly protesting. ‘I fear it is a fool’s errand. Those poor souls out in this. They don’t stand a chance.’
The oncoming storm lashed the land, laying flat bushes and bending trees to snapping point.
It wasn’t raining yet, but the purple clouds rolling over each other and sheet lightning flashing on the horizon threatened a terrible downpour.
When they reached the dunes, both women stopped dead.
On the darkening horizon, the pale sails of a ship were stark against the sky.
It heaved up and down in the waves, perilously near the line of rocks which reached out from both sides of the bay.
Lowri had once thought they looked like welcoming arms, but now they formed a gaping mouth ready to swallow its prey.
‘She’s too close to shore. She’ll rip her hull open on the rocks,’ cried Connie.
‘Why didn’t she stay out to sea?’ Lowri had to shout to be heard over the wind.
‘There. Look,’ said Connie, pointing to a rise of higher ground where a fire struggled against the wind, sending flurries of sparks up into the darkness.
As they hurried down the dunes to the sea, they could see flickering light.
On the beach, several more fires had been lit, large stacks of wood piled high.
They were no ordinary fires. Someone had taken a great deal of trouble to set them.
Connie grabbed Lowri’s arm. Her nails dug in.
‘Wreckers. We must go, now. We shouldn’t have come.
’ Her face was twisted, and the wind almost took her words away.
‘They set those fires. A ship out to sea, in darkness and bad light, would think this is a village, a port, a safe haven. They are leading that ship to her doom.’
There were people on the beach, their faces rapt in the light of the fire. Connie pointed at one lump of a man. ‘There’s Heap, Butcher’s right-hand man. Where he goes, so does his master.’
Lowri scanned the beach, squinting in the fading light, and finally spotted Butcher. He was shouting into the face of another man, and that man was Cullen.
Lowri glanced back out to sea, bending into the wind because it was fierce enough to knock her off her feet.
The ship lurched into shore. Her sails had been trimmed, but the onshore wind was relentless.
In no time at all, she hit the rocks with a terrible crash, followed by a scraping groan as their teeth tore a hole in her flank.
The ship listed to one side and hung there until another huge wave pushed her further into shore.
‘She’s doomed,’ cried Connie, crossing herself.
‘We must help.’ Lowri set off running, but Connie grabbed hold of her and wrestled her to the ground.
‘There’s nought you can do.’
‘But some might survive. We have to help them.’
‘And get our skulls bashed in for our trouble? These men are ruthless. If they can bring down a ship for her cargo, they can kill us for witnessing it, or cut out our tongues so we cannot tell on them. Please, lass. Cullen will help if he can. He doesn’t want us here.’
Would he help, or was he part of this? Where had he been and what had he been doing all day while she was in Garron? Lowri’s trust in him was broken beyond repair, so she feared the worst. Lowri tore free of Connie’s hold. ‘Go back if you like, but I am staying.’
‘They’ll come from far and wide to take what gets washed up.
When a ship wrecks, ‘tis just the bounty of the sea to these folk. They see it as their right. They care not about the crew.’ She grabbed Lowri’s hand.
‘Life is cheap here, lass, and by dawn, this place will be picked clean, nought but corpses floating on the tide. You are in terrible danger if you stay.’
But Lowri stood her ground and would not leave.
Connie shook her head and hurried back up the path, leaving Lowri alone.
Shouts rang out from the beach, and rain started to pelt down as the stricken vessel sank lower in the water.
More people flitted out of the gathering darkness, heading to the sea.
They were coming from far and wide, like crows drawn to the scent of carrion.
Lowri ran down to the beach with a group of people.
She could no longer see Cullen anywhere.
Over the sound of the wind, she heard faint cries for help, so she scoured the darkness, looking for survivors.
A few poor souls were trying to swim to shore, or floated helplessly, clinging to flotsam from the wreck.
It seemed to take an age, but eventually barrels and packages began to wash up, along with a man, flailing and weak, struggling to stand in the surf.
Folk ignored him and rushed to claim the cargo.
A shot rang out further down the beach, and she spotted Cullen with his arm in the air, standing in a group of people.
They backed away. The man who had escaped crawled up the sand towards her, and as she was about to go to him, Heap walked up to him.
But instead of hauling him out, he put a foot to his back and shot him in the head.
Lowri aimed her pistol at him. Heap spotted her and pulled another pistol from his belt and aimed back. Lowri staggered back and would have fallen, save for a strong arm holding her up.
‘Get back, Heap,’ shouted Butcher. ‘Don’t test me.’
Heap retreated down the beach, shouting orders and hurling people aside who were trying to salvage the cargo.
‘Easy, lass,’ said Butcher, grabbing Lowri’s hand and lowering the pistol. ‘Don’t get shot for the sake of these animals.’ He began to drag her towards the dunes with brutish strength.
‘But your man, Heap, he just murdered that…’
‘Aye, but do you think I can control Heap when his blood is up? He was born here. This is his way of life. I can no more control these people than I can stop the tide.’
The wind took Lowri’s breath away, and she was numb with cold by the time they reached the meagre shelter of the dunes. ‘Stop,’ she shouted.
Butcher relented and let go his iron grip. ‘We should keep going until we are well clear,’ he cried.
‘You did this,’ spat Lowri.
‘No. I did not.’
‘I don’t believe you.’
‘Aye, and with good cause, I am sure. But I swear, I did not set those fires and lure that ship in, and the men who did will be punished. I came here to help these poor wretches, but I see now that I cannot.’ He looked down the beach, his face stricken, running with rain, black hair sticking to his face. ‘It is chaos.’
‘You are a villain, the worst kind of murderer,’ shouted Lowri, clutching the pistol hard.
Butcher put his face in hers. ‘Why am I the villain, lass? Because I want you, and make no secret of it? Because I ply my trade, smuggle and cheat. I do all of that.’ He jabbed a finger in her face.
‘But I don’t lie to you about my lust or force you into wedlock to assuage it.
Your husband is no better than me. Aye, he is a lot worse.
Open your eyes to the better bet, lass. Cullen is a Macaulay, and there is not an honest bone in his body. ’
Lowri had to fight back tears of despair. She took a step away from Butcher, but he came closer.
‘If you have to lie with a villain to get out of the trap you are in, lass, then at least make it your choice of villain, not his.’
She glanced back down the dunes. The wind carried screams, and shots were being fired. ‘Whatever you say, I’ll not go. There are survivors.’
Butcher shook her. ‘You must go now, or you will die on this beach. I cannot protect you. Do you want me to waste time dragging you back home, or do you want me to get back to the beach and save who I can? Their blood will be on your hands if you stay.’
He pushed her up the dunes towards the path back to Kildara. When she was almost out of earshot, he shouted. ‘And while you throw accusations at me, you might want to talk to your husband about how that ship came to be wrecked this night.’