“Let them beware also!” shot back Skye. “/ am the O’Malley!”

Seamus O’Malley mastered his temper. “What is it you want,
Niece? Specifically.”

“My marriage must not affect my status as the O’Malley, and
neither must my husband or my father-in-law interfere with that.
The responsibility for the clan remains mine until I see fit to pass
it on to one of my brothers. Da wanted it that way. I will not have
the Burkes dabbling greedy fingers into the O’Malley coffers!

“I will come to them with a dowry worthy of a princess, but that
is all they will receive. I want no interference by the Burkes into
O’Malley affairs.”

The bishop nodded. “Tis shrewd you are, Niece, but I don’t
know if we can get the MacWilliam to swallow such a big pill. He’s
a sly old man.”

“Come, Uncle, you’re a brilliant negotiator. Did you not arrange
with your ‘friends’ in Rome for Niall’s annulment. We both know
the reason the MacWilliam seeks me for his son is not my bonnie
blue eyes or my pretty tits. He looks to our ships, but they are not
mine to give. They belong to my half-brothers, and I will not cheat
my father’s sons out of their inheritance even to gain my own hap-
piness. I offer that wicked old man a bigger dowry than any of his
’better-bred’ wenches, and I also offer him something even better
than money, for I am a proven breeder of sons! Tempt him with
that! For all his cleverness he has but one heir. I will give him half
a dozen more.”

The bishop laughed. “You’re a very naughty wench, Niece. Your
attitude toward the holy sacrament of matrimony is really quite
shocking. I am tempted to pile you with penances.”

“I will accept them gladly, Uncle, if Niall Burke truly loves me.”
She became deadly serious now. “This is what I must know. The
last time he accepted his father’s will too easily, and did not fight
for me. Now he must battle the MacWilliam to prove his love.”

“And if the MacWilliam refuses your terms?”

“He won’t. But if he did then Niall would wed with me anyway
if he really loves me.”

“Very well, Skye. ‘Twill be your way.”

“Thank you, Uncle,” she replied meekly with downcast eyes, and
he chuckled and fondly whacked her backside.

The MacWilliam angrily roared his outrage, but Seamus O’Malley
stood firm. Even after Skye wed with Lord Burke she was to remain
the O’Malley, and she was to retain complete control of O’Malley
affairs.

“The O’Briens have a fine lass ripe for marriage,” said the
MacWilliam slyly.

“The devil take her,” shouted Niall, and the bishop masked his
smile. “ Tis Skye I want, and Skye I’ll have even if I must slit your
scrawny throat!”

The MacWilliam looked at his son with an injured air. “If you’re
that hot for her then you might as well have her. I hope you’ll
quickly breed me several grandsons before much more time has
passed. I am not growing any younger.”

Seamus O’Malley returned to his niece, happy to tell her that her
terms had been accepted, and that Niall Burke had been willing to
fight for her. The O’Malleys were in a state of great excitement
because one of their own was to wed with Niall Burke. Yet Skye
remained calm throughout.

“You must be made of ice,” remarked her sister Peigi. “He’s what
you’ve always wanted. And God knows his reputation with women would set an ordinary woman to fainting. You’ve already had a taste
of his lovemaking, so surely you must be excited to finally be
marrying him.”

“I am, but we’re not wed yet, Peigi. I am fearful of rejoicing too
soon lest I awaken to find it all nought but a dream. If I remain quiet
and unobtrusive I will not attract the undue attention of those spirits
who might envy me my good fortune.”

“God ha’ mercy, little sister, what unchristian nonsense is this?
Thank the Lord you do not run our business so foolishly.”

Skye shook her head, but said nothing further. She knew that
even here in the heart of devout Christian Ireland, food and drink
were placed upon the doorsteps nightly in offering to the little people.
She knew that certain maidens of unblemished virtue were marked
as sacred, and the keeping of their virginity placed in the care of an
ancient Celtic demon who materialized to destroy the violator if the
girl’s innocence was threatened. She and the men of her fleet made
verbal obeisance to Mannanan MacLir, the ancient Irish sea god,
before each voyage.

It had been almost eighteen months since she had seen Niall, and
she was somewhat frightened, for in all that time she had been free
of men’s demands. Her aversion to being touched had eased some-
what, and Mag could again bathe and dress her.

As if sensing her fears from afar, Niall Burke came unannounced
to Innisfana Island. He found her in her mother’s rose garden clipping
some late blooms. For a few minutes he stood in the shadow of a
tree and watched her. He realized he had never seen her in a moment
of leisure. She was dressed in the Irish fashion, wearing a bright red
skirt of soft, lightweight wool. She had tucked it up, and he saw
that she was bare-legged and barefoot. Her blouse was of fine linen,
as white as many washings could make it. The sleeves were short,
and it was deep-necked, revealing her breasts when she bent to inhale
the sweet fragrances of the flowers. Her blue-black hair was loose
and billowed softly about her shoulders in the light breeze. She
carried a wide, nearly flat straw basket, half-filled with roses. Her
giant hound, Inis, walked slowly by her side.

She was lovelier than he had remembered, and his heart beat a
little quicker when he realized that this beautiful woman had con-
sented to be his wife. The young innocent of fifteen was long gone.
He barely remembered her now, as this lovely creature of nineteen
quickened his blood. He let his eyes feast on her, enjoying the soft
pink in her cheeks, the way her lashes made a dark smudge against
her skin. Her slim figure moved with such grace. It gave him pleasure
just to watch her.

After a little longer, he stepped from behind the tree and the big hound stiffened, his hackles rising. Inis growled low in warning.

“I am glad to see you so well guarded, Skye.”

“Put your hand out, Niall, so Inis may get your scent.” She patted
the dog. “Friend, Inis. Niall is a friend.”

Lord Burke suffered himself to be thoroughly sniffed. He patted
the animal, speaking reassuringly to him, receiving first a long
searching look from the liquid amber eyes, and then finally a wet,
cold nose pushed into his palm.

“He likes you!”

“And if he hadn’t?”

“You might have had difficulty claiming your rights once we’re
wed, my lord,” she said mischievously.

She sobered suddenly, and he did too. Then he held out his arms
to her and, without a moment’s hesitation, she walked into them.
His arms closed securely about her, and she stood quietly listening
to the rapid beat of his heart just beneath her cheek.

“I love you, lass,” he said quietly.

“And I love you, my lord Burke. I would seal that love with a
kiss,” she said softly, raising her head. His mouth gently found hers.
At the first touch of his lips she panicked, but his big hand caressed
her hair and he murmured against her mouth, “No, love, it’s Niall,
and I love you.” With a sigh she gave herself up to him, and when
he released her at last, her eyes were shining with joy.

“Is it all right now, sweetheart?” he asked, already knowing the
answer.

“Yes, my lord. For a moment… but it quickly passed.”

“I will always be gentle with you, Skye.”

“I know.” She smiled happily. “How long were you watching
me?”

“A few minutes. You’re a charming sight barefoot, and clipping
roses.”

“But hardly dignified,” she blushed. “As the O’Malley, I should
have sailed out to meet you, my betrothed husband.”

“Leave the O’Malley at sea, my love. I prefer shoeless lasses,
especially the one now in my arms. Besides, you did not know I
was coming. And but a day behind me is himself, anxious that your
uncle perform the betrothal ceremony here in two days’ time, and
that we sign the contracts. Would that please you, pet?”

“Oh, Niall! Yes! Yes! Yes!”

“And then,” he continued, “we can be wed in three weeks’ time
after the banns are all read.”

“Yes!” Then her face fell. “No. It cannot be in three weeks’ time.
Damn! I must go to Algiers, and we sail in a week.”

*To Algiers? Why?”

“It has been suggested that we set up a trading post in Algiers,
and I cannot give my approval unless I have investigated the situation
myself. I must not waste O’Malley gold, or O’Malley resources.”

“Why must you leave next week? Can’t you go another time?”
She could hear the irritation in his voice.

“Oh, Niall, I am sorry. In order to gain a trading license in Algiers
we must have permission from the Dey, who represents the Sublime
Porte in Constantinople. Without the Dey’s approval we cannot trade
safely in the Mediterranean.”

“Why not simply bribe him?”

Skye laughed. “We are going to, but the Turks do things differ-
ently than we do. We are rather straightforward, whereas they de-
mand grace and elegance, even in their business dealings. When the
Dey learned that the head of the O’Malley company was a woman
he demanded to meet me. My representatives dared not refuse him.
So I must go or else risk insulting the Dey. To insult the Dey is to
insult the Sultan. In that case we would not get the trading permit.
Worse, our ships would be marked as fair game by the Barbary
pirates who sail out of Algiers under the Dey’s supervision. We
would be ruined. I have to go. The appointment is set.”

“How long?”

“At least three months.”

“Three months? Dammit, Skye, it’s too long to be separated from
you!”

Her eyes lit up. “Come with me, Niall! Sail with me to Algiers!
I know we must allow our families the privilege of marrying us off
with pomp and fuss. But once we’re betrothed and pledged to wed,
no one will think to mind if you accompany me. We can have our
church wedding when we get home. Come with me, my love! Oh,
please come with me!”

It was a wild, impractical idea, and he almost said no. Then he
thought of the long days and longer nights ahead. Niall Burke took
a deep breath and said, “Yes, Skye, my love. I’ll sail with you,
though I must be mad to do so.”

With a cry of joy she flung herself into his arms.

Several days later, in the same chapel that had seen Skye’s baptism
and ill-fated marriage to Dom O’Flaherty, her betrothal to Niall
Burke was celebrated. She regretted the absence of her father at the
moment of her greatest happiness, but the MacWilliam’s open joy
eased her sorrow.

The ceremony was barely over when Skye left her husband-to-be
and their guests in the care of her sisters, so that she could oversee
the preparation of her ships. They would sail in a fleet of nine ships.
Skye’s flagship was the Faoileag (the Seagull). With her would be her father’s ship the Righ A’Mhara (King of the Sea); Anne’s ship
the Ban-righ A’Ceo (Queen of the Mist), which had been a wedding
gift from her late husband; and the six ships belonging to Skye and
her sisters. These were known as the six Daughters for each was
named a “Daughter of…” They were Inghean A-Sian (Daughter
of the Storm); Inghean A’Ceo (Daughter of the Mist); Inghean
A’Mhara (Daughter of the Sea); Inghean A’Ear (Daughter of the
East); Inghean A’lar (Daughter of the West); and the Inghean A’Ay
(Daughter of the Island).

Each ship was carefully prepared and provisioned, and the crews
were handpicked by Skye. She wished to make a good impression
on the Dey. Permission to trade with Algiers meant untold wealth.

Thus it was that, one week from the day of his betrothal, Niall
Burke found himself standing on the quarterdeck of a ship as it sailed
south out of O’Malley Bay into the rolling blue Atlantic Ocean. He
was not a sailor by nature, and had no special feeling for the sea.
Nevertheless the weather was tolerable and he quickly found his sea
legs. What he could not find as easily was an end to his amazement-
for Skye O’Malley in command on the sea was completely different
from the woman he knew and loved.

She was amazingly competent, highly knowledgeable in areas of
which he had little or no understanding. The men about her did her
bidding unquestioningly, and listened to her with open respect. Had
she not been his sweet Skye in the privacy of her cabin, Niall would
have been genuinely frightened of the Amazon who commanded this
small fleet. Fortunately, Niall Burke had a sense of humor, and he
quickly realized he was going to need it.

Though he shared the captain’s quarters with her, he slept alone
in a single bunk in a small side cabin with the wolfhound Inis as his
companion. The great dog had attached himself to Niall with a
singular devotion that delighted Skye, for Inis had hated Dom. Lord
Burke amused himself by training the dog. It was intelligent, but
lacked manners. Niall also spent a good deal of time in the company
of the same Captain MacGuire who had returned him to the
MacWilliam several years back.