"Didnae anybody wonder where ye had gone? Yer own family? The clansfolk? I can see how Murtagh covered up his brother's murder, but yer disappearance on top of it?" Cailean asked.
"He told the world I'd gone mad with grief, and who wouldnae believe it? The whole country was in chaos with the death of yer father. What was one mad woman amongst all that?" Flora sighed. "And so, gradually, the world forgot me. And I've rotted away here these twenty years."
Cailean finally opened the door and held out a hand. Flora hesitated, but then took it. Her hand shook, and it was so remarkably thin that it broke his heart. "Why…why are ye alive? I'm grateful for it, but I dinnae understand why he didnae justkill ye as well. I cannae understand why a man like him would leave ye alive with the knowledge ye have against him."
Flora looked as though she were about to cry. "Sorcha," she whispered. "Sweet little Sorcha. Her mother died the day she was born, and I was the only woman left in her life. She's a year or two older than ye, if ye'd believe it, though I ken she looks much younger. She remembers what it was like when we were happy."
Disgust filled Cailean as the implications hit him. "So he's kept ye alive tae keep his poor daughter under control. We must save her, I cannae abide a man who would use love against anyone like that."
"We cannae save her now. I dinnae even ken if we can save ourselves." Flora shook her head. "The only way that we can free Sorcha is by defeatin' Murtagh—and the only way we can defeat Murtagh is by fightin’ the False King. Without the backin' of the tyrants whose power he feeds from, Murtagh McKenzie will be nothin'."
The two of them made their way hand in hand through the tunnels, both now following their same instinct, both hoping that their path led toward the light. As they went, Flora told him stories of her visits to McNair Castle back in the day, and Cailean felt a flare of hope and love every time his family was mentioned. In exchange, he told her about Maeve, about the adoration he felt for her, and about the future they hoped to build together.
Then they heard it—the shouts.
"He's this way! I can see the torchlight!" a guard's faint voice shouted from somewhere behind them. "Come on!"
Panic surged through Cailean, and he grabbed Flora's hand tighter. They began to run, counting on a gust of cold air ahead of them as being an opening—a way out. Flora quickly ran out of breath, wheezing as they ran, but she didn't once try to slowdown. They twisted through the tunnels, following the breeze, desperate to get to the escape.
But the guards were gaining on them. Footsteps were drawing closer and closer, and Cailean knew that it was only a matter of time before they caught up. He set his jaw and said nothing to Flora, simply pulling her along as quickly as he could.
"When ye get out," he panted, "Go tae the village. Find someone who'll take ye tae Bruce Castle. Use a fake name. Do what ye have tae."
"W–what?" Flora gasped breathlessly. "What?"
Cailean pushed Flora ahead of them as they turned the corner and saw the exit directly ahead of them. Just as they did, the guards rounded behind them, so close that Cailean could hear the sound of their swords clanking.
"Run!" he cried out for the second time in days.
He turned to face the guards, holding only the knife. There was no chance of his escaping now, but at least he could gain Flora some time.
"Be strong, lad!" Flora shouted back with desperate urgency. "Ye're nae alone!"
To his relief, after she had said those words, she turned and fled, making it to the exit just as the guards reached Cailean. There were ten of them, too many for him to fight alone in these conditions on his best day, but now that he was injured with no weapon except the knife, there was no chance.
Still, Cailean wasn't going down without a fight.
He dodged the first punch aimed at him and sliced out with his knife, cutting one of the guards across the face and causing a scream of pain. Another guard grabbed him, but Cailean kicked out backward, damaging the man's shin and managing to wriggle out from his grasp. He shoved out with his elbow, connecting with a third guard's chest, sending him sprawling to the ground.
For just a moment, it felt like he could win this against all odds. For only a moment, he had such a bright, shining hope that he'd see Maeve again that his strength felt almost superhuman.
But then one of the guards drew his sword and held the point to Cailean's throat. Another snatched the knife from his hand, scowling, and pocketed it.
"I have permission tae cut yer throat if ye dinnae comply. Ye'd be better as a livin' gift, but Murtagh can make do with a dead body if he needs tae," the guard snarled.
The strength ebbed out of Cailean as he felt another sword point against his back. He wanted to scream in defiance, but he knew that he could do no good for Maeve nor for Scotland as a whole if he was dead. His head and body hurt so much, and he wobbled on his feet.
"Ye'll lose," he told the guard quietly. "Yer precious Murtagh will fall. Just as Kyle Darach did."
The guard spat at his feet. "King of dirt. Come back tae yer cell. It isnae Murtagh ye need tae worry about."
Cailean wanted to fight, but he simply didn't have the energy to do so anymore. He prayed that Flora had gotten away freely; certainly, the guards hadn't even seemed to notice her flee, since they'd been so preoccupied with him. He allowed himself to be half-dragged back to his cell, already plotting how he'd escape again once his energy returned.
As they passed Flora's cell, two of the guards started speaking to each other in low, urgent murmurs. Cailean smiled slightly to himself, pleased to hear the fear in their voices as they discussed how they would tell Murtagh that his 'pet' was gone.
They reached his cell, and Cailean was thrown unceremoniously inside. He landed hard on the floor, his already aching body hurting, but as the guards retreated, his thoughts were far away. Maybe Flora would find Maeve withthe rest of their companions. Maybe they'd be able to help each other.
He knew one thing, though. He was captured, but he'd never be defeated. Not by a man like this. Not by anyone.
