"Ah. Ye plan tae make a spectacle." Cailean shook his head. "Ye plan tae try tae crush any sort of rebellion. Ye dinnae understand the spirit that drives us, do ye? Ye dinnae understand that our love for our country is a fire, and now that it's lit, it willnae be doused, nae by the likes of ye."
He tried to look at Nessa again, but the girl looked away, hiding her face and expression entirely. When he looked back at O'Sullivan, there was a hint of anger poking through the laird's smug smirking exterior.
O'Sullivan leaned forward. "I will crush yer rebellion. I will take me daughters back, and I will sell them tae the highest bidder. And it doesnae matter what ye say about spirit, or about fire. Because ye'll be too dead tae see it." He snorted. "It's only a shame thatMaevewillnae be here tae see it. But dinnae worry. When I have her back, I'll be sure she kens how ye suffered. Every last bit of it."
Cailean clenched his fist, rage flooding his blood at the sound of Maeve's name on this horrible man's lips. What this creature had done to Maeve, to Breana, and Cailean suspected, to this other girl here in the throne room—even if in a different way—fuelled Cailean's hatred, but he would not allow himself to break. Instead, he met O'Sullivan's eyes and coolly said, "We'll see."
He might die here. He probably would. Cailean had no desire to die, but he accepted there was perhaps no way out this time. But if that was to be the case, then he would make sure that his death meant something.
Until he breathed his last breath, he would use every moment to show what the McNair name—what the entire rebellion—truly stood for.
12
Breana felt sick. Nausea had started churning in her stomach the moment that her small party had crossed into O'Sullivan territory, and it had only gotten worse as they got closer to the village that ringed the castle where she had grown up. Maeve did not betray any fear in her face, but Breana knew her sister well—she saw the tightness in her jaw, saw how the sparkle in her eye had dimmed. Breana wished she knew how to comfort her. She wished she could assure Maeve that it would all be right. But back here, in the lair of their evil father, Breana felt like a scared child again.
Eoin gave her a brief reassuring smile as they entered the gates that surrounded the village. They left their horses at a stable just outside the borders and entered the village on foot. It was usually a sedate kind of place; the rare times that Breana had ever gotten to visit the village, she'd found the people hardworking and shrunk into the themselves. It was as though her father's shadow had oppressed them, even from all the way up in the castle.
Not so today, though. Today, the village was bustling with more people than Breana had ever seen here, more people than Breana had known could ever fit into this place.
"There's tartans and sigils here from many different clans," Darren observed. "Many of those we've reached out to and received rejections or nae answer."
"Why are they here?" Eoin wondered. He turned to the women. "I'm gonnae try tae blend in. See what I can pick up. The two of ye, stay close tae Darren and out of sight."
Maeve looked ready to argue, but Breana put a hand on her arm. Eoin was right; they could not afford to be recognized now, not when they were so close. Neither of them had spent much time in the village, but there was always a chance that someone could recognize them by their features.
"Are ye all right?" Maeve whispered to Breana once they had settled on a small stone bench near the side of the village, away from the crowd. Darren stood nearby, keeping close watch without making himself look too obvious.
"AmIall right?" Breana asked, laughing slightly despite how awful she felt. "I'm nae the one who's here tae free the love of her life. Ye dinnae need tae worry about me all the time."
"Ye spent even longer here than me. Ye were here most recently, and Father always kept you on a tight leash," Maeve replied. She squeezed Breana's hand. "And…and I'm tryin' nae tae lose meself in thinkin' about Cailean. Nae until we have a plan tae save him."
"Wewillsave him," Breana assured her. "Naebody kens this castle and its secrets as well as ye and I. I dinnae ken how we'll get in and get him out, but we will."
They were silent for a long time, watching the crowd. There was an inexplicable unease in the air, some unknown tension echoing just below the surface. Then Breana said something that had been bothering her since she set out on her journey.
"Ye ken… Nessa, she cried when I left tae marry Kyle Darach. She thinks I didnae see her, but I did." Breana shook her head. "I dinnae ken what tae make of it."
"Nessacried?" Maeve asked, obviously so astonished that she forgot the rest of her pain for a moment. She looked behind them, to where the tower castle loomed in the background, then turned back to her sister. "So maybe ye were right. Maybe there is hope for her yet."
"Or perhaps she was weepin' because the last path out of Father's grip was taken from her. Perhaps the time we've spent away has just solidified what we already kent—that she's goin' tae just become another version of our Father." Breana sighed, looking at the ground. "I dinnae want tae believe it. But I've learned that there's true evil in this world now. I learned that at Darach Castle, and I've seen it with me own eyes as I witness what the False King has done. Perhaps Nessa is just caught in it, just as our mother and father were."
"Perhaps," Maeve said and sighed. She squeezed Breana's hand. "But I hope not."
"Aye," Breana agreed. "I hope so, too."
They looked up as Eoin came back out of the crowd and exchanged a few words with Darren, obviously alarmed by whatever his short reconnaissance had taught him. Darren groaned and slapped his forehead, then both of them approached the women with grim expressions on their faces.
"They're here for the event," Darren told them without preamble in his usual abrupt way. "Clan chiefs and lairds, warriors and common folk, and everyone in between. They're here for the…the execution. Of 'the Pretender'. It's all anyone can talk about."
Maeve went pale, and Breana held her close, but both kept paying rapt attention.
"Notall. There are other whispers," Eoin told them. "Many whispers of rebellion and discontent."
The sisters exchanged looks. "We need tae get in there," Maeve said hoarsely. "Now. We need tae get Cailean out, nae matter what it takes. Now."
"We cannae get in without a distraction," Eoin said, looking around them. "We need some kind of…"
Breana acted without even thinking. She let go of Maeve's hand and stood up in one fluid movement, then walked to Darren and pushed a finger against his chest, putting on the haughty voice she'd learned from Nessa and from their mother. "Howcouldye?!" she demanded. "Ye swore tae wed me!"
