Maeve wanted nothing more than continue to sprawl on the ground, but she knew that if she did, her muscles would just ache even more when she finally moved. So, even though it hurt, she took his hand and allowed him to haul her to her feet once more. She dropped his hand quickly, and the two of them began to walk side by side from the training grounds and along a small pathway.
"Is this part of me trainin'?" she asked as they walked, winding past the huts of the rebel camp and along the nearby riverbank. "Are ye gonnae attack me with a hidden knife or somethin'?"
Cailean laughed. "Nae knife," he promised. She noticed he was walking slowly, allowing her to keep up without making too big a deal of it.
They kept walking along the river until eventually, they reached a small body of still water not too far from the village where this tributary of the river seemed to come to an end. It was bigger than a pond, but nowhere near big enough to be considered a loch. Maeve wasn't sure what to call it, but as she spied the ducks gliding across the surface and the sun reflecting on the waves, she knew that it was lovely.
Cailean led her over to a log on the bank and sat down, beckoning for her to sit next to him. She did, and said, "Are ye sure this isnae part of me trainin'?"
He laughed. "Well, I may have lied. Itispart of yer trainin' after all, but maybe not in the way ye think."
9
Chapter Nine
Maeve's anticipation grew as she and Cailean sat in silence for a few moments following his declaration. It was clear that he was trying to work out exactly what he wanted to say, and after her training, she was tired and sore enough to be content with just waiting for him to be ready. Besides, the sights around her were more than worth sitting here for as long as it took. The glistening water sparkled in the new morning sun, and the little ducks that swam around made Maeve smile. In the distance, she could see the heather-clad hills that stretched up so high that they were close to mountains, and nearer, there was the farmland of the village, which boasted only a few scraggly sheep and a spindly cow. Even this sight was welcome, though it did make her more than aware of the stark reality in which her people were living.
"Nae fat sheep or cows here, eh?" she asked.
Cailean shook his head grimly. "Broken Windmill hasnae seen a good farm season in many a year," he explained. "If ye look at the crops, ye'll see that they're lackin' as well. We're borrowin' a lot from these people, but they're givin' us everythin' they have."
Maeve took this in for a moment. Her eyes travelled a little further along the river until she found it; there stood the broken windmill from which the village took its name. It had obviously once been magnificent, towering over the landscape, but now it was half rubble, yet still strangely beautiful in its own way. Kind of like the village itself, Maeve supposed.
"Well, they must believe in the cause," Maeve said in response to Cailean's words after a long moment. "As do I. We each must do what we can tae overthrow the False King."
Cailean gave her a look. "Ye believe that, do ye?"
"With all me heart." Maeve didn't want to go too deep into just how aware she was of the inner workings of the False King's lackeys — probably more than anyone here except the council. Well, the council and the lost prince. Maeve had her suspicions about that already, of course, but she wasn't going to speak them. Not now. "Why else would I be here? Why else would any of us be here?"
"Why else indeed," Cailean said thoughtfully. He was giving her a curious look, one which she couldn't quite understand. Then he gave her one of those electrifying half-smiles and said, "Ye're truly a determined one, are ye nae?"
Maeve shrugged. "Me determination is what I have."
"And it's a blessin'," Cailean told her seriously. "But it's also what I wanted tae talk tae ye about. It's good tae be determined. It's good tae push yerself, but ye must remember tae exercise caution as well."
"What do ye mean?" Maeve asked, frowning. "Did I do somethin' wrong?"
"Wrong? No. But yer efforts doin' those final laps… ye could have hurt yerself. It's good tae try hard, but it's also important tae recognize that yer body and even yer mind have boundaries as well."
"Boundaries are meant tae be pushed," Maeve said immediately, quoting a half-remembered saying from her childhood.
"Boundaries are meant tae be respected, especially our own," Cailean countered. "Aye, it's good tae push ourselves, but not too much, or we break ourselves in the process."
His words carried a weight to them that went far beyond his apparent age, and a deep wisdom that Maeve knew could only have come from a lifetime of experience. Whatever Cailean's story really was, it had given him the kind of insight that few thrice his age ever truly garnered, at least in Maeve's experience of people.
"So ye're sayin' ye dinnae want me tae train?" she asked carefully.
He shook his head, much to her relief. "On the contrary. Ye proved me wrong, and I want ye tae continue tae train very much," Cailean replied. There was something shocking and refreshing for Maeve to hear a man admit the fact that he wasn't always right. It reminded her what the women had said that morning about the importance of respect and dignity in the camp, and she found herself beginning to truly believe it.
"Oh. Good."
He chuckled and placed a hand over hers. The shock that went through her system at his touch was instant. A prickling heat traveled from where his skin touched hers up her arm and settled around her chest, and her body unconsciously angled a little closer toward Cailean. She felt like iron drawn to a lodestone, the way she could not keep her eyes or thoughts away from this man ever since last night. What was going on?
Luckily, he didn't seem to notice the strangeness that had overcome her. He continued to speak as though nothing had happened — which, Maeve strictly reminded herself, it hadn't.
"I just want ye tae remember that brute force is rarely the best answer, is all," Cailean told her. He removed his hand from hers and rubbed the back of his neck. "Ye're obviously the kind of person who kens that already, based on how ye fought; just dinnae forget it. Many of our fighters get too used tae fightin' their way through everythin'. Dinnae lose the wits that made ye stand out in the first place."
Maeve thought about those words for a long time. She understood what he was trying to say, and she appreciated it. Slowly, she replied, "I think… I think I'll skip this afternoon's trainin', if that's alright with ye. Just for the day."
