"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."
The smile on Seumidh's face grew wider, and Maeve was reminded of the images of hungry wolves she'd seen in illustrations. If this was Murtagh McKenzie's right-hand man, she was extremely wary to find out what the chief himself was like. "We'd be honored," Seumidh said with a slight bow.
"Somethin' isnae right here," Maeve whispered to Cailean as they followed the McKenzie men through the forest and out the other side. "These men…"
"They're rough around the edges," Cailean told her reassuringly. "But dinnae look so nervous, love. I believe that Murtagh McKenzie wants tae talk with us in good faith, but dinnae forget that everyone is at the edge of their tempers these days. Likely his men are as mistrustful of us as ye are of them."
Maeve made a small sound of disbelief.
"I mean it," Cailean told her, slipping his hand into hers again. "Think of it from their perspective. They're offerin' tae go against the king—false though he may be, he is the ruler, and has been these twenty years—and place their entire clan at risk. All for a claim from a young upstart who could easily be lyin' about the whole thing."
"People believe who ye are," Maeve assured him. "And those who dinnae are soon convinced. We have proof, we?—"
"I ken that, but that doesnae mean they must trust me immediately. Did ye?" Cailean gave her a slightly ironic smile, then faced ahead once more.
