"Nonsense," Maeve replied, parrying him with her sword and knocking his attack to its side. "Ye needed tae spar, and here on the trainin' grounds before everyone else. It's time for us tae have fun."
Cailean laughed wildly, dodging out of the way as she aimed an attack toward him. It took him by surprise when her moveswere usually so defensive, and he barely managed to avoid it. Pride flared in his chest as he skidded along the damp morning grass, spinning out of the way.
"Expect the unexpected," Maeve called mischievously, then danced out of the way as he aimed a light blow toward her in return.
They continued to spar, and though others started to appear on the field, Cailean didn't pay them any notice yet, focusing only on the joy of what was happening here, the way that sparring with Maeve was relieving some of the tension from his shoulders and helping bring him into the here and now.
Before, he would run and train alone to try to bring himself down, but he had never felt like it worked successfully. He'd just grown more and more desperate, more and more sure there was no hope. But now that he knew Maeve, now that he had her in his life, he'd started to feel much differently—much more like that sunwouldrise again because she was here with him. And sparring with Maeve was an activity that brought it all to the forefront. She wasn't a helpless maiden, screaming and begging to be rescued. He'd trained her, Senan had trained her, and she'd worked hard to shape herself into a woman who could fight for herself. She could protect herself and everyone else if she needed to, and respect and joy filled him when he turned to look at her.
"Ye're amazin'," he told her, lowering his blade and stealing a kiss, which she responded to briefly but eagerly.
"I am," she said, laughing, then kissed his cheek before raising her thin sword again—the sword his family's sigil had bought for her, the sword that had helped defeat Kyle Darach and save her sister, Breana. "And ye're amazin' too. That's why we work so well together. Now, stop talkin', and?—"
Her sword lightly poked him on the arm, not hard enough to make a dent, but hard enough to make a point.
"Tut, tut! Allowin' yerself tae get distracted in battle?" Maeve asked.
"Ha! Ye could distract the great heroes themselves with a flutter of yer eyelashes," Cailean told her, and raised his own sword.
They began their spar again, and as more people approached the field and more eyes were on them, they fell into practiced routines, transforming the battle into a playful dance the two of them shared. Right now, for this moment at least, Cailean was free from the shadows that had haunted his dreams last night, free from the fear that had disturbed his sleep. Right now, the sun was shining brightly.
But as Cailean met Maeve's eyes across their swords, a dark shadow passed across his heart. Maeve could look after herself just as well as many of his warriors. All of his friends and family could look out for themselves, or at least for each other. And, of course, he would never leave them, not while there was still breath in his lungs and his heart was beating.
But the shadow of the False King still loomed over them. The other clans were not rallying to his cause as he had hoped they would. And the dream still echoed in the back of his mind, faint but present and horrifying.
Becausehewas not just a dream; he was real. And one day, Cailean would have to face him, and Maeve would be by his side.
The fight for their future would be taken together. Cailean knew that. But he worried that the path was not an easy one and that their battle would be fraught with danger. He only hoped that it was a danger they could all get through alive.
1
Maeve settled into line with the rest of the men and women warriors as the sun settled into the morning, and the training session was ready to begin. Their numbers had swollen since the battle for Bruce Castle; the rebels she'd come to know and love were all here, along with many of the men who had previously been under Darach's command.
Maeve had been relieved to find that they had more or less been welcomed into the rebellion with open arms, never having their previous allegiance hung over their heads, never having to face mistrust from the other rebels in the weeks they'd been here. After all, she'd been a Darach once, too, and by birth she was an O'Sullivan—she'd been as involved with traitors and servants of the False King as one could get. But Cailean knew, and the rest of the rebels knew, that her heart was here with the promise of a free Scotland, and she believed that these men, too, would give their everything for the cause.
Cailean had offered to let them go, let them leave Scotland and start life anew, and a few had taken him up on the offer. But many more had stayed, and that had given Maeve hope, evenwithin the fear that other clans were not responding and not rallying the way they were supposed to.
"Ye all right? Ye were here early," a voice said quietly next to her. Maeve turned her head to see her friend, Eoin, standing by her side, now fully healed and ready to join in the training with the others.
"Just eager as always," Maeve told him. "How's Bre?"
Eoin went a little red around the ears. "What do ye mean? She's yer sister, ye ken how she is; ye'll see her at lunch as always."
"Aye, but I ken ye've been havin' breakfast with her and the healers every day," Maeve replied, laughing a little at the way he responded. "Patty tells me ye've been spendin' all yer time there when ye're not out trainin'."
"Well, the healers helped me a lot. And Breana and I are friends," Eoin replied. "And ye need tae stop teasin'."
Maeve grinned. "Och, ye love it," she said. She paused, then added, "How are ye?"
Eoin's smile faded a little. He was mostly doing well, but he'd had a hard time of it in the aftermath of the fall of Kyle Darach—his own father. Kyle had been ready to kill Eoin for helping Maeve escape, and Eoin's loyalties were firmly with Cailean, but Maeve understood better than most that the loyalties of family were a lot more complex than logical. She wondered what she would do, how she would feel, if she saw her own father, or her other sister, destroyed before her eyes. Could she be as strong as Eoin? She hated her father and how he'd treated her for her whole life, but she didn't know how she'd feel. And worse, she knew the day would come eventually. After all, he was another block between Cailean and defeating the False King once and for all.
"I'm here, and I'm strong enough," Eoin replied after a pause. "We're doin' what we need tae, and I'm where I need tae be. Everythin' else is secondary."
Maeve nodded, touching his arm briefly. "I'm glad ye're me friend," she told him. "I never really got a chance tae thank ye for?—"
"I saved ye. Ye saved me. There's nae more tae be said on the matter," Eoin replied. He winked. "Pairs for sparrin' today?"
"Ye're on."
