"Barbara?" Taran interrupted. "Ye've seen me daughter?"
Delphine's calm exterior cracked for the first time. "Please," she said, her accent even more pronounced in her urgency. "Is my cousin alive?"
Surprise showed on Breana's face, but she answered anyway. "I found Barbara grievously injured, but when last we saw her, the healers at Bruce Castle seemed tae think she'd make a full recovery."
The farmer and the Sparrow both sank into their seats in relief. Maeve watched them, glad for their joy, but the storm in her heart just grew darker. Seeing this family receive the good news that their loved one was still alive just made her more acutely aware that her own beloved was in terrible danger.
"We must act," she said. Her voice was quiet but with such command in her tone that everyone else fell silent and turned to face her. "We must return tae McKenzie Castle immediately and find a way tae get Cailean out. Nae matter what."
Eoin, Darren, and Fergus all exchanged glances. Eoin was the one to speak, though Maeve already knew what he was going to say before he did.
"We must show caution, Maeve," he told her gently. "Ye ken that. If we go bargin' in without a plan, we'll all die, and Cailean will still be a prisoner, nae closer tae his freedom."
"Caution! What is the point in caution if Cailean—if ourkingis dead?" Maeve demanded. She slammed her hand downso hard that it hurt, but she relished in the pain. It helped cut through the cold she felt on the inside. "I'm tellin' ye. Me instincts kent this was a trap, and I didnae trust them. Now me instincts tell me tae act, and I willnae ignore them again."
"Ye must. If we dinnae show patience, we could easily walk intae another trap," Eoin told her in that same gentle tone. "They have Cailean. What if they capture ye? They could send ye back tae yer father. Or if they get Darren—the heir tae the Bruce Clan and the male leader in Cailean's stead? What if any of the rest of us are killed? What use would our rebellion be then?"
"And if Cailean is killed because of ourpatience?" Maeve snapped. "Eoin, I expected better of ye. Ye of all people ken what it is tae be a prisoner?—"
"And I ken what it is tae fall victim tae a trap!" Eoin sharply retorted.
"All right, enough!" Darren interrupted them. "Enough. Eoin is right—we cannae do this without help, Maeve. Ye ken I want Cailean back as badly as ye do, and I'm tellin' ye, this is the right way tae do it. Let's send some men back tae get reinforcements from home. It will only take a few days at most."
"A few days is too long," Maeve replied, her heart tightening at the very thought of leaving Cailean there alone. "Time we dinnae have."
"It's our only choice," Fergus finally said. "Rest, Maeve. Or we'll be nae help tae Cailean at all."
Maeve and Deirdre were given two of the three small beds on the main floor of the farmhouse while the men slept upstairs. Night had fallen, and there was no sound at all, but Maeve wasfar from sleep. All she could think about was Cailean. Where was he? How was he? Was he safe? Alive?
She heard a creak from the third bed and saw Delphine slip out. The White Sparrow had told them that she'd go into the village that night to gather what information she could; her informants operated best under the cover of darkness. The men had all agreed that this was their best course of action—to wait until they had all the information—and Maeve had reluctantly agreed.
Now, Maeve waited until she heard the front door open and close, then slid out of her own bed. She was still fully dressed, and she reached for her cloak and hurriedly slipped on her shoes before following. She slipped out of the door unnoticed and just saw the back of Delphine's dress as the woman disappeared into the trees.
Maeve followed, close enough not to lose sight of her, but distant enough that she wouldn't be caught. Determined, she crept through the dark forest, knowing that she would find a way back into this stronghold. No matter the risk—no cost was too high.
"I'm comin', Just wait," she whispered, just as she had once before. But this time, whether she meant Cailean or McKenzie or something else entirely, even she had no idea.
9
The first thing that Cailean became aware of was a throbbing pain in his head, followed closely by the cold stone below him. He didn't risk opening his eyes yet, but raised his hand to touch the painful spot on his head. It came away sticky, and he grunted as he recognized the feeling of half-dried blood. He must have received a massive blow to the head to get such a wound, which would explain how he had fallen unconscious for who knew how long.
Slowly, carefully, he opened his eyes. The world around him was pitch black, but he lay there on the stone floor, steadily waiting. Slowly, the shapes around him started to swim into focus, lit dimly by torches that were bracketed somewhere some distance away. He turned his head ever so slightly, feeling a rush of agony in his skull as he did, and saw bars.
A cell. He was in a cell.
Then it all came flooding back; memories mingled amongst the pain—Murtagh's offer. The betrayal. The attack.
Cailean swore, his voice echoing off the walls as he did, but nobody approached. There was nobody here, no guards, nothing. McKenzie, it seemed, had thrown him here to rot.
How could he have been so stupid? How could he have not foreseen the danger that he was in? Maeve had warned him over and over again that her instincts were uneasy, and Cailean himself hadn't been sure that it was a good idea, but he'd convinced himself that he had to go forward with seeking out this treaty. He should have known that McKenzie couldn't be trusted. How could a man who had turned away from McNair so easily when the False King attacked ever be trusted to uphold vows sworn a generation ago?
"Fool," he muttered to himself. "Ye great oaf."
Where was Maeve? Where were Darren and Fergus? They'd been in that room with him. Cailean remembered telling them to run, but he knew that Maeve would never leave unless the others had made her. Had they been able to get her out? Or had McKenzie captured them too—or worse?
No, they weren't dead. He would know it; he would feel it in his soul. Darren was his best friend, his brother in all but name, and Maeve… Maeve was his heart, his soul, his guiding light in all darkness. The world would not still be spinning for him if she was not in it.
And the others? Deirdre, young Dirk, and all the rest—had they been warned in time to get out? Or had McKenzie dealt with them too?
