CHAPTER NINE
Maeve's anticipation grew as she and Cailean sat in silence for a few moments following his declaration.
It was clear that he was trying to work out exactly what he wanted to say, and after her training, she was tired and sore enough to be content with just waiting for him to be ready.
Besides, the sights around her were more than worth sitting here for as long as it took.
The glistening water sparkled in the new morning sun, and the little ducks that swam around made Maeve smile.
In the distance, she could see the heather-clad hills that stretched up so high that they were close to mountains, and nearer, there was the farmland of the village, which boasted only a few scraggly sheep and a spindly cow.
Even this sight was welcome, though it did make her more than aware of the stark reality in which her people were living.
"Nae fat sheep or cows here, eh?" she asked.
Cailean shook his head grimly. "Broken Windmill hasnae seen a good farm season in many a year," he explained. "If ye look at the crops, ye'll see that they're lackin' as well. We're borrowin' a lot from these people, but they're givin' us everythin' they have."
Maeve took this in for a moment. Her eyes travelled a little further along the river until she found it; there stood the broken windmill from which the village took its name.
It had obviously once been magnificent, towering over the landscape, but now it was half rubble, yet still strangely beautiful in its own way.
Kind of like the village itself, Maeve supposed.
"Well, they must believe in the cause," Maeve said in response to Cailean's words after a long moment. "As do I. We each must do what we can tae overthrow the False King."
Cailean gave her a look. "Ye believe that, do ye?"
"With all me heart." Maeve didn't want to go too deep into just how aware she was of the inner workings of the False King's lackeys — probably more than anyone here except the council.
Well, the council and the lost prince. Maeve had her suspicions about that already, of course, but she wasn't going to speak them.
Not now. "Why else would I be here? Why else would any of us be here? "
"Why else indeed," Cailean said thoughtfully. He was giving her a curious look, one which she couldn't quite understand. Then he gave her one of those electrifying half-smiles and said, "Ye're truly a determined one, are ye nae?"
Maeve shrugged. "Me determination is what I have."
"And it's a blessin'," Cailean told her seriously. "But it's also what I wanted tae talk tae ye about. It's good tae be determined. It's good tae push yerself, but ye must remember tae exercise caution as well."
"What do ye mean?" Maeve asked, frowning. "Did I do somethin' wrong?"
"Wrong? No. But yer efforts doin' those final laps… ye could have hurt yerself. It's good tae try hard, but it's also important tae recognize that yer body and even yer mind have boundaries as well."
"Boundaries are meant tae be pushed," Maeve said immediately, quoting a half-remembered saying from her childhood.
"Boundaries are meant tae be respected, especially our own," Cailean countered. "Aye, it's good tae push ourselves, but not too much, or we break ourselves in the process."
His words carried a weight to them that went far beyond his apparent age, and a deep wisdom that Maeve knew could only have come from a lifetime of experience.
Whatever Cailean's story really was, it had given him the kind of insight that few thrice his age ever truly garnered, at least in Maeve's experience of people.
"So ye're sayin' ye dinnae want me tae train?" she asked carefully.
He shook his head, much to her relief. "On the contrary.
Ye proved me wrong, and I want ye tae continue tae train very much," Cailean replied.
There was something shocking and refreshing for Maeve to hear a man admit the fact that he wasn't always right.
It reminded her what the women had said that morning about the importance of respect and dignity in the camp, and she found herself beginning to truly believe it.
"Oh. Good."
He chuckled and placed a hand over hers.
The shock that went through her system at his touch was instant.
A prickling heat traveled from where his skin touched hers up her arm and settled around her chest, and her body unconsciously angled a little closer toward Cailean.
She felt like iron drawn to a lodestone, the way she could not keep her eyes or thoughts away from this man ever since last night. What was going on?
Luckily, he didn't seem to notice the strangeness that had overcome her. He continued to speak as though nothing had happened — which, Maeve strictly reminded herself, it hadn't.
"I just want ye tae remember that brute force is rarely the best answer, is all," Cailean told her.
He removed his hand from hers and rubbed the back of his neck.
"Ye're obviously the kind of person who kens that already, based on how ye fought; just dinnae forget it.
Many of our fighters get too used tae fightin' their way through everythin'.
Dinnae lose the wits that made ye stand out in the first place. "
Maeve thought about those words for a long time. She understood what he was trying to say, and she appreciated it. Slowly, she replied, "I think… I think I'll skip this afternoon's trainin', if that's alright with ye. Just for the day."
Cailean gave her a quick approving look. "And what will ye do instead? Here in the camp, we dinnae stand for idleness."
"Well, I'm gonnae bathe first and try tae do somethin' about me battered body," Maeve said honestly. "I dinnae ken how ye're still movin' with such ease."
Cailean laughed, so loudly and suddenly that it startled one of the ducks, which took flight. They both watched it go, then Cailean said, "Ye'll get used tae it, Mary. It might take some time, but soon ye'll be so fit that a day's trainin' will feel effortless."
Maeve wasn't sure that she believed that, but she didn't argue. "I think I'll get tae ken everyone around camp," she said. "Ferda and the scouts, Patty and the healers, and the others as well. Everyone has their place, and I think I need tae get tae ken those places and help out where I can."
"Good," Cailean replied. "Excellent. I want everyone in me camp tae ken we're all part of the same team, nae separate factions who just happen tae be together."
"Yer camp?" Maeve asked.
Cailean tilted his head, frowning. "The camp, I said."
Maeve was almost certain that he hadn't, but she was also sure that now was not the time to push it. They sat there together in silence for a few more moments, then Maeve pushed herself to her feet, ignoring the ache in her legs that burned when she did so.
"Thank ye," she said awkwardly as Cailean looked up. "For today. For this."
Cailean shrugged. "I said I'd train ye. Now I'm trainin' ye. Dinnae let me down."
"I willnae," she swore. "Not ye, not Senan." And not herself, either.
The camp kitchens operated out of an old inn in the village, and Maeve found herself there helping to prepare lunch.
She was comfortable in that kind of work, peeling and dicing vegetables with the practiced air that her time working for Bill had given her.
She'd worried that it would trigger fear in her to be back in that environment, but the atmosphere was so warm and cozy and utterly different from Bill's inn that her heart didn't feel any negativity at all, only eagerness that she could do something useful to help.
The young man, Ben, whom she was working with was about twenty years old, and he walked with a limp from one leg that was slightly shorter than the other.
He directed the kitchen like an old kitchen maid, and all the women and the few men who were also there to work obeyed him without question despite his gender and age.
The girl from before who had been a cook, Lillian, was not around – apparently it was her rest day.
Even that impressed Maeve; when she'd worked for Bill, he hadn't given her any such thing.
"How long have ye been a cook?" Maeve asked him as he handed her a sharp knife to help with her work. "Ye dinnae often see men doin' this kind of work in this kind of environment. Maybe in the halls of kings."
"This is the hall of a king, even if he's yet tae show himself, remember," he replied with a smile. "And I've been a cook since Cailean convinced me da I wasnae useless thanks tae this leg."
Maeve glanced at it, then quickly looked away.
"It's all right," Ben laughed. "Ye can ask.
I was born this way. Me da is one of the soldiers here, me mam a healer.
When they realized I came out like this, they kent I'd never be able tae fight for the rebellion, but thought I might become one of its scholars.
As I got older, it became plain that wasnae the case.
Even though I've had tutorin', I can barely write me own name. "
Fascinated, Maeve said, "And so? Ye decided tae be a cook?"
"Me da wanted tae leave me at one of the villages when I turned thirteen," Ben explained.
"He found a monastery that would have taken care of me well, and me mam agreed it might be good for me.
I didnae want that, though. I wanted tae be part of the rebellion, tae fight for our future, even if I didnae ken how I could do it. "
Maeve carefully began to clean the ingredients before her, allowing Ben to go on in his own time.