CHAPTER NINETEEN #2
When the two of them were a little further away from the main training field, Darren said, "Are ye ready tae talk tae me now? What happened back there?"
Cailean ran his hands through his hair, his frustration bubbling over to the point that he couldn't even put words around how he was feeling.
He knew he had gone too far and he knew that avoiding Darren — the person who knew everything about him — had probably just made it worse, but he didn't even know how to express what was going on inside him.
How could he explain the complex emotions that were churning through him when he didn't even fully understand them himself?
"Is this all about learnin' who Maeve really is?" Darren asked him. "Because…"
"She kens who I am," Cailean blurted out. Darren was perhaps the only person in the whole camp, even including the elders, with whom he could be fully honest right now, and he knew that if he didn't take the opportunity, he would resent it. "She… she found out who I really am."
Darren was silent, and so Cailean told him what had happened in full — how Kier had suggested the raid, how Cailean had stepped in and rejected the idea, and how Maeve had questioned him, culminating in their argument in the woods.
"I cannae believe the way she spoke tae me!" Cailean exclaimed, though even as he said the words he knew they weren't truly what he was worried about. "How can she nae understand…"
"Her sister is trapped with the Darachs," Darren told him bluntly. "Ye talked about yer family tae her. Did ye stop tae think what it must be like tae have one person still alive, and that person tae be sufferin' such a fate?"
Cailean scowled. "We can save her sister without a full raid that risks everyone else. We need tae find a way that protects…"
"Me friend, will ye listen tae me a moment?" Darren asked. "How many times have ye been faced with someone bein' rude tae ye or pushin' back against ye?"
"Many times," Cailean admitted reluctantly. "What's yer point?"
"Me point is that ye usually deal with such things calmly. Should ye maybe consider why Maeve's words are affectin' ye so much?"
"Because we had tae fight for our lives thanks tae her lies and…" Cailean started, but the words felt hollow even to him. Darren shook his head, and Cailean sighed. "I dinnae ken," Cailean admitted after a moment. "I dinnae ken why she's affectin' me so much."
"Perhaps because she's a woman worth respectin', and ye've come tae value her opinion, ye big eejit," Darren told him. "Maybe because ye ken that the words she's sayin' are true, and ye're scared of the truth."
"Ye're callin' me a coward now, too?" Cailean asked.
Darren shrugged. "I ken ye too well tae think ye a coward.
But I do think ye can be blind. Nae matter how uncomfortable it makes ye, ye cannae run away from all the truths in yer life forever.
Nae matter how hard ye fight, sooner or later, ye'll have tae face the truth. Will ye be ready when it comes?"
At Darren's insistence, Cailean agreed to take the rest of the day off from training and allow Darren and Fergus to run the session instead.
He needed distraction, maybe even solace, and he wandered off without any real idea of where he was going.
It wasn't too surprising when he ended up at the mouth of the village.
He set off in the direction of the tavern, looking to get a drink or three to drown his sorrows, even though it was far too early for such things.
But as he walked through the village and saw the early morning activity of the villagers, something strange happened.
These people had nothing, they all knew that, and yet, that morning Cailean saw smiles all around him.
The farmers were headed out into the fields and kissed their wives and children on the way.
The shopkeepers were tending their stalls and the women were tending their homes and gathering the children without complaint.
Resilience. These people had lost everything.
The income of the village had been destroyed, many of the villagers had died, and much of the hope for Broken Windmill should have been extinguished.
And yet, there were the people, living their daily lives with happiness in defiance of what the world expected from them.
They aided the rebels, they raised their children, and they loved their country. They hoped, they loved, and they lived.
For these villagers, for these people, nothing was truly lost until they'd lost themselves. And wasn't that the most remarkable thing of all?
Cailean wondered if he could ever be as brave as these people.
Could he ever earn the respect they aimed toward his image?
Could he ever be the king they hoped and prayed for in their day-to-day struggles?
He couldn't stop thinking about the words that Maeve had thrown at him, how she'd talked about the fact that people were laying down their lives for him whether he came forward or not.
Was it true? Was he hiding away fruitlessly? But then, what if he couldn't live up to what they'd expected? What if he could never be what these people had built him up to be in their minds and hearts?
What if he could never live up to who Maeve hoped that he would be?
"Should I still call ye McManus?"
Cailean blinked and saw that the blacksmith, Arthur, had approached him while he was thinking. He smiled faintly at the man and said, "Ye can call me what ye like. I'm the same person I was before I gave ye that accursed pin."
Arthur nodded slowly. "Yer secret is safe with me, lad. Though why ye'd keep it a secret is beyond me."
Cailean almost laughed at that. It seemed that everyone had an opinion about this, and the more people who learned his secret, the more of the case this would be.
He wondered if there was any way of going back now that things had started to open up.
He wondered what it would be like, just for a moment, to come out and admit who he was; to stand up and be ready to take back what had been stolen from him so long ago.
Could he be as brave as these villagers?
As brave as Maeve, who had lost so much and been through even more, but still burned with the flames of passion and wanted to fight?
"It's ready," Arthur told him. "The sword for yer lass."
"She's nae me lass," Cailean told him automatically.
Arthur nodded solemnly. "Aye. Forgive me, ye're right. That lassie gave me the impression that she doesnae belong tae anyone."
The rest of what Arthur had said filtered in, and Cailean felt a shiver of anticipation at the thought of what his family's pin had paid for. The sword. Maeve's sword. It was an important symbol, but Cailean wondered if it meant even more than he'd known it would when he'd first put in the order.
"I can pick it up now?" Cailean asked.
Arthur nodded. "Come and see," he said. "It's some of me finest work — and hopefully worth the price."
Cailean didn't say anything, but the thought flickered through his mind that for Maeve, any of it would be worth it.