The Wild Irish - Robin Maxwell Read Free Book Online Page A

turning away from them, the queen signaled Essex with her eyes that he should follow.
    As the two women walked and talked quietly, their heads tilted toward each other, Essex and Bacon quietly observed and listened.
    “ ’Tis extraordinary,” Elizabeth began, “to have in our midst so famous a pirate.”
    “There is another pirate in the room more famous than myself,” Grace replied. To the queen’s questioning look she answered, “Yourself, Majesty.”
    Essex could feel Elizabeth pause at the impudence of the statement, but the queen did not miss a step.
    Grace O’Malley continued. “You’re a pirate by proxy, and every head of state in the world is well aware of it. Drake and Frobisher and Hawkins, everyone knows you finance their ventures. And everyone knows as well that they call their activities ‘privateering,’ but what it truly is, is pirating. What we do not know,” she said with a sly smile, “is what part of their booty ends up in your treasury.” Elizabeth stopped so suddenly in her tracks that Essex and Bacon nearly collided with the two women.
    “Have I spoken out of line?” Grace seemed not at all rattled by the queen’s obvious discomfiture. “If I have, you have my apologies, madam. But these are well-known facts.”
    Essex watched as Elizabeth’s expression softened suddenly, almost as if she had relaxed into a tub of hot water. Perhaps she had decided to take no offense at Grace O’Malley’s frankness. Everything the woman had said so far, whilst impertinent, had been altogether true. Perhaps, he considered, the queen liked Grace O’Malley’s audaciousness.
    “I received your petition as well as your answers to my questionnaire . . . ,” said Elizabeth, and stopped before her throne.
    Essex wondered if this action had been accidental. But of course it was not. Elizabeth left nothing to chance. She wished to symbolize her authority in this way, rather than using words or tone of voice.
    “. . . and I am considering your two requests,” she continued evenly, then smiled. “The idea that the Crown should make arrangements for a pension for yourself—since you hold us responsible for the loss of your livelihood—is a curious one, but I have taken it under advisement.
    Regarding your second request—the removal of Governor Bingham from your home province of Connaught—this is a delicate situation, you understand.”
    “There is nothing delicate about Richard Bingham, Your Majesty.
    He ’s a cruel and murdering scoundrel, and he ’s more a liability to you in Ireland than a help.”
    “You should know that Governor Bingham has written to me regarding you .”
    “A complimentary letter, no doubt.”
    “He called you ‘a notable traitoress’ and thinks you very dangerous.
    To Ireland and to my own best interests.”
    “Oh, does he?”
    Essex could feel Grace beginning to smolder. He wondered how long the woman could contain the fury boiling beneath the calm exterior.
     
    “He has my son, Your Majesty, in his custody in Dublin Castle.
    Richard Bingham is threatening to hang my son Tibbot Burke on trumped-up charges. Did he write you that as well? Did he say his men murdered my gentle son Owen in cold blood, after he ’d given your English troops the best of his hospitality, or that his persecution of my family will never stop until he sees us all in our graves? Did he say that!” Essex found that his hand had unconsciously strayed to the hilt of his sword, his fear for the queen’s safety growing with Grace O’Malley’s outrage. But Elizabeth appeared altogether calm, even sympathetic to talk of Grace ’s sons, and Grace seemed uncaring that the timbre of her voice had risen far above that which was acceptable in speaking to the Queen of England.
    “I’ve come here to ask a pardon for Tibbot Burke, Your Majesty.” Grace now held Elizabeth’s gaze with the same intensity as she ’d recently held Essex’s. “You must not let that pig of a man kill my