Chapter 3
Ferda left them after the first couple of miles, with promises to be in touch as soon as she could, though part of Maeve doubted that she would hear from her friend for a long time.
Whatever was going on with the White Sparrows, she had the feeling that Ferda would get caught up in it—and Maeve, meanwhile, had her own story to get on with.
Still, as they rode away, she could not help but wonder about the people she was leaving behind for this journey; not just Ferda, but Breana, Eoin, and the four elders back at camp, not to mention all the other rebels.
There were always some twists and turns, always some reason to leave people behind.
Maeve wondered if there would ever be a time when she would be able to stop doing it, a time when she would be able to rest and be with her family and be happy.
She rode close to Cailean as she had these thoughts, glad that no matter where the waves of the wild sea took them, they'd always at least have each other.
"I cannae believe that Cailean let me come on this journey!" young Dirk Bruce was declaring for the fifth time.
"Neither can I, cousin. Ye're barely out of yer swaddlin' clothes," Darren teased him. "Come, Fergus. The two of us should go scout out the road."
The two older Bruce cousins did just that, while Dirk rode closer to Maeve and Cailean.
"Me uncle, Kier, I mean, he taught me a song for the road," he told them. "Can I sing it for ye?"
Maeve laughed. "Is that how ye'd like tae pass yer time?"
"Hark, the sounds o' the roarin' sea…" Dirk started. Many of the other men picked up the tune, and soon, they were all robustly singing. Maeve didn't know the song, but she smiled as even Cailean hummed along to the music.
The joy was short-lived, though.
Soon, Darren and Fergus returned. "Quiet," Fergus hissed. "We cannae be so loud—quiet, now."
The singing abruptly stopped as Cailean raised a firm hand. "What's goin' on?" Cailean asked as Maeve looked back and forth between the grim expressions on the Bruce cousins' faces. "Did ye see someone?"
It was unsettling to see them like this. Fergus was usually taciturn, rarely letting emotion show, and Darren was usually cheerful, but now both looked equally worried and maybe even upset. Maeve didn't know what could have possibly gotten them both like this.
"Someone's watchin' us," Fergus said after a moment.
"Ye saw someone?" Maeve asked cautiously.
"No," admitted Darren, "But we ken what it is tae be watched, and there are eyes on us. Nae more songs, Cailean—it isnae safe. There's someone watchin' us."
Cailean swore loudly, then covered his own mouth, running his hand through his hair. "Fine. Fine. We'll ride on, quietly, and we'll take a different route. Whoever this is, we're gonnae get them off our trail, but we cannae afford tae be late for this meetin'. Understood?"
Silently, Maeve and the other ten men nodded, even Dirk, who had now gone pale.
They were all thinking it, she knew—thinking of the False King who still ruled over their land, of the threat that hung over all of them.
The sudden jolt of a reminder that he was watching them, that no matter where they went, that threat was ever-present—it was a vivid reminder of what they were, who they were, and what they were really doing.
There was no way around this. This was no gentle trip through the fields of the Highlands.
Right now, on this journey, they were fighting for their lives and the lives of everyone and everything they loved and would ever love.
There was no more singing as they continued their journey.
No more talking. The twelve rebels rode together in silence, each lost in their thought.
Maeve thought of her sister, who had only just regained her freedom.
If they were caught on the road, or if they failed when they arrived at McKenzie clan, would Breana lose it again?
Maeve could not and would not allow such a thing to happen.
The night arrived sooner than any of them would have liked, and although Cailean wanted to ride on through the night, Maeve argued that that wasn't such a good idea.
"I ken ye think we're bein' followed, but it's been hours since Darren and Fergus saw or even thought they saw anythin'.
And if we dinnae rest, ye'll be in nae shape tae meet with the chieftain tomorrow. "
They set up camp deep in a forest, arranging for two of the twelve of them to always be awake and keeping watch. Maeve and Cailean had taken the first watch, and they'd woken again for the fourth, encouraging Dirk and his watch partner to go back to sleep.
Now they sat at the treeline while their friends slumbered, silent but relying on each other's presence.
Maeve watched as Cailean silently whittled a tree branch using the knife she'd given him.
It was a small gesture, but it warmed her heart, knowing that the gift she'd given him was at least providing some comfort.
"What are ye makin'?" she asked in as quiet a voice as she could muster.
"Nothin' much," Cailean replied with a tired half-smile.
"I never learned how tae whittle, not really.
Senan tried tae show me many times over the years, but since we were always on the move, always aware of the threat hangin' over us, I never stayed calm enough tae sit down and learn.
All I wanted tae do was learn tae fight. "
He held up the stick he'd been whittling, and sure enough, it was a mess of wood shavings and not much else. Maeve laughed a little. "Ye ken," she said, "This is—"
Suddenly, Cailean grabbed her, his hand sliding over her mouth. His voice was urgent. "Shh. Did you hear that?"
Maeve's breath caught in her chest, her heart speeding up as the adrenaline instantly hit.
She barely dared to move as she strained against the sounds of the wind to hear what Cailean had.
She was acutely aware of their friends asleep behind them, and her hand travelled to the sheath at her side where Tailfeather always waited, ready to defend if need be.
"McNair! Is that ye?" a booming voice called. "The Chief sent us tae find ye—ye've been takin' too long."
Cailean slowly released Maeve, and the two exchanged cautious looks before standing up together. Maeve heard the others stirring, but she didn't turn around to face them. Instead, she took Cailean's hand, and the two of them walked forward to meet the newcomers.
Just beyond the treeline, each bearing a torch and a noticeable sword at their side, waited twelve burly warriors, all with identical expressions on their faces.
At the forefront stood the man who had called out, a tall, grey-haired, grizzled man who reminded Maeve a little of Kier except without any of the secret warmth in his eyes.
Cailean squeezed her hand, passing a silent message as he did for her to hang back, then let go.
Maeve fought the urge to grab him back and keep him close, instead resting her hand on the hilt of her sword and watching carefully as he stepped forward.
In terms of numbers, their party was evenly matched by this group, and Maeve knew that whatever they did now would have to be with extreme caution.
"I'm McNair," he said bluntly as soon as he was close enough to be fully in sight of the group. "Ye're McKenzie's men?"
"We are," the speaker said. The rest of the men just watched, each of them with an intensity that made Maeve shiver. "I am Seumidh McKenzie, cousin and right hand of Chief Murtagh, and he sent me and this group tae find ye. He was beginnin' tae think ye werenae comin'."
"We stopped tae rest for the night." Cailean signalled to Maeve with a hand gesture that would have looked almost casual to anyone who didn't know them.
She understood, and though she was reluctant, she turned and hurried back to the group.
As she went, she heard Cailean continue speaking, buying them time.
Maeve arrived in the clearing a few seconds later, and her heart relaxed a little at the sight. Darren was already awake and vigilant when she got there, packing up their things, and Fergus was waking up the others.
"Danger?" Darren asked as soon as he saw her.
Maeve shook her head. "Nae danger. Well, nae yet. But we must get back tae Cailean at once."
With a swift nod, Darren threw his pack over his shoulder.
The others were up now and each grabbed their own pack, and soon all ten of them were following Maeve back through the treeline.
They all emerged behind Cailean, and Maeve felt reassured by the combined strength of the rebels around her as they faced down the McKenzie men.
"Quite the group ye've brought for a friendly discussion, McNair," Seumidh commented as he noticed the rebels emerging. There was a low, dangerous note in his tone.
Cailean remained as cool as the air around them, unfazed by the implied threat. He shrugged and said, "Seems tae me we're matched man for man," he noted.
"Or man for women. Ye've brought two wee lassies with ye," one of the McKenzie men said with a snort.
"Aye, and a babe in arms, as well," another noted as his eyes found Dirk.
All of the McKenzie men laughed darkly, and Maeve felt the frisson of anger ripple through her friends.
The other woman warrior, a tall, slim woman named Deirdre, took an irritable step forward, but Maeve put a hand on her arm to warn her to stop.
From the corner of her eye, she noticed Fergus doing the same to young Dirk.
The McKenzie men waited a moment, and then Seumidh laughed, raising his hands. "Easy now, lads. Be polite tae our visitors. Else, the chief will have somethin' tae say about it. We're addressin' the would-be king here, after all."
Cailean bristled at the title but did not otherwise react. He said, "It's late. I'm sure yer men misspoke from tiredness." He glanced at Maeve, who nodded. "We're ready tae move if ye'd like tae escort us the rest of the way."