At last, she blurted out the first thing that came into her mind. "The sun is too high in the sky. I must have slept the whole mornin'."
Senan laughed. "I could tell ye were tired, Mary. I thought it best tae let ye sleep before we start on the long road ahead."
Maeve had been going by Mary for two months now, but for the first time, it made her uncomfortable to hear it. Lying about who she was to Senan felt different from lying to Bill. But she didn't make any move to correct him or clear up the misunderstanding. After all, the Darachs would still be looking for her, and she certainly couldn't risk being found.
"Where are we goin'?" she asked eventually, once she'd eaten a few slices of bread and some of the cheese.
"North," Senan answered immediately. He picked up a stick and sketched a quick outline in the ground, and Maeve realized she was seeing a rough sketch of her beloved country before her. He made a cross on the map roughly where they were, thentraced the stick all the way up, farther than Maeve had ever considered traveling before. "Here's where we were last based. I suppose they'll have moved on by now, but we'll find them."
"They?" Maeve ventured.
Senan's dark eyes gleamed. "The rebel group. The brave men and women who're fightin' tae bring our home back tae how it's supposed tae be. Me people. Our people, if ye'll have them."
Maeve blinked at the sudden intense passion in his voice. A rebel group? She remembered his rambling from the night before about the McNair prince and the False King. At only twenty-one, she had no memory of a time before the current line was in charge of Scotland, but she knew that it felt wrong as it was. A true king would never ally with the Darachs, never treat people like she knew the people were being treated. She'd heard whispers and rumors about the usurped McNairs, but as far as she knew, they were all dead and gone, wiped out when Maeve was still a babe in arms.
They were silent for a few minutes while they finished their meals. Maeve considered all the things she could ask, but there was just too much. So instead, she settled on something solid, something she needed to know for sure.
"Ye werenae even a wee bit drunk last night, were ye?" she asked.
Senan laughed long and loud at that. "Ha! No, I wasnae drunk. I hadnae so much as had a sip of ale or mead the whole night. I like tae keep me wits about me when I'm workin'."
"Workin'?"
He smiled. "Aye. Recruitin', and gatherin' information. Ye can hear things much better as a lousy drunkard than ye can as a man like me. Naebody pays attention tae a word from yer mouth, and naebody watches the words that come from their own."
Maeve considered this. "Clever," she said. "I thought ye just a brave fighter, but it seems ye've a craftiness about ye as well. Should I be afraid?"
Senan shrugged. "A smart person is always a wee bit afraid. It's what gives us the power tae overcome," he replied. "But dinnae act so impressed. Ye were usin' the same trick as me. How many times did ye wipe that same table as ye eavesdropped?"
Maeve felt her cheeks grow a little pink at that, but her lips twitched upward into a smile. Something about the twinkle in Senan's eye made her feel far less guilty about being caught. "Was I so obvious?"
"That isnae it. Actually, ye were so subtle I'd have missed it if I wasnae lookin' for it. It's one of the main reasons I thought I'd invite ye along; ye've obviously got the brains to be a true asset tae the rebellion."
The rebellion. Was that what she wanted? Maeve thought about it hard, and she realized that yes, it was. She'd been longing to fight back for so long; fight back against everything that had ever caused her pain. Against the men who'd hurt her. Against the royalty who had empowered them. She would be free, and she'd make sure her country was as well.
"Do ye ken him?" she asked. "The McNair prince? Is he really alive?"
"Alive and well, last I checked, though it's been some time since I laid eyes on him," Senan replied. "He's only a few years yer senior. Ye both need some trainin', I'd say, but when ye've got it, ye'll both be formidable in yer own ways."
Formidable.The very sound of the word made her feel powerful. Could that ever be said about her? Maeve wasn't sure, but she was willing to do anything it took in order to find out.
The next day, they stopped at a clear spot in the forest and Senan said, "Hit me."
"What?" Maeve stopped chewing on the apple she had plucked from a tree nearby.
"Hit me," Senan repeated, spreading his arms wide. "I want tae see the power ye've got."
"Do it, lass!" Senan commanded.
Maeve knew an order when she heard it. She put the apple down on top of her coat and turned to face Senan. Taking a breath, she balled her hand into a fist and swung at him. Her fist connected with his chest, but he didn't even flinch.
"Nae strength," he said, shaking his head. Then, in a flash, his own arm swung up toward her. Without even thinking, Maeve ducked, avoiding the blow, and she darted out of the way. Senan pressed his attack, but Maeve rolled out of the way and stuck out her foot. His weight overbalanced on her leg and he tripped, falling to the ground.
Maeve stood back, breathing heavily. "Ye could have hurt me!" she protested.
Senan sat up from his fall and started to laugh. "I wouldnae have hit ye. I was pullin' me punches. But ye reacted well."
"What?"
