Morag watched her. "Forgive me," she said in a broken voice. "I… when Laura saved ye that night, I was tryin' tae gather the lads. The only one of the wee boys I could find was Cailean, and I managed tae smuggle him out. I took him tae me friends, Senan and Kier, tae protect him and train him—tae raise him tae be who he could be."
"Cailean is alive?" Neala whispered. "Me brother is alive? Does–does he ken about me?"
The older woman shook her head. "I chose tae keep ye apart, though it broke me heart tae be separated from the lad as well. I thought he needed it. And I thought–I thought if ye kent about each other, ye'd be in more danger. Sparrows in active service ken who he is, but they are all sworn tae secrecy. Ye werenae tae ken, because Scotland needed at least one of ye tae survive as long as ye could."
Neala stared, unable to fully comprehend what she was hearing. She thought of the picture she kept in her room back in the convent, the small painting of the family she could not remember. She remembered the little golden haired boy, the one who Laura had always told her had been Neala's favorite brother when she was just a baby.Cailean.
"Did Laura ken?" she asked, though she knew it was a ridiculous question. That they all lied to her was one thing, but Laura? Laura was the closest thing she had to a mother. Surely, she hadn't known. Surely, it was some mistake.
"I made her swear to it, Neala. And I was wrong," Morag said quietly. "Perhaps nae fully, but wrong nae tae tell ye when ye were old enough tae understand. But Cailean has risen now and reclaimed his name and is fightin' tae rebuild his legacy.Yerlegacy. Ye must find him, go tae him, and take yer place at his side, Neala. Ye must stop this trap from succeedin', and help return our country where it's supposed tae be."
Neala raised her hand to her head, pressing her fingers against her forehead to try to fight off the storming headache which had suddenly appeared. The pressure was too much.
Before she could react further, before she could demand more explanations or do anything at all, the shouting of the other prisoners started again, accompanied by heavy footsteps on the stone floor. Someone was coming.
She didn't have time to panic. She gestured to Morag to bring her an empty cup which sat in the corner of the cell, and shegrabbed it through the bar just in time for the guard to turn the corner and spot her.
"Ye! Maid! Get away from those prisoners!" the guard demanded.
Neala stepped back immediately from the cell doors, turning to face the guard, the cup firmly in one hand. "Have–have I done somethin' wrong?" she stammered, instantly slipping into her delicate maid persona. "Forgive me, sir. Jessie ordered me tae bring the medicine down for the sick prisoner." She gestured with the cup. "She said the king wants her alive."
The guard narrowed his eyes, and Neala held her breath. Eventually, though, he nodded, his lip curling up in disgust.
"Next time, dinnae talk tae the prisoners," he warned. "Go."
Neala forced a curtsey, then, forcing herself not to look back at Morag or Ann, hurried past the guard and back along the corridor.
She escaped the dungeon and ran straight for the stairs, hurtling along and not stopping until she reached her own tiny room. She threw herself inside and slammed the door behind her, glad that the two maids who shared her room were nowhere to be found.
Sinking down with her back against the door, Neala buried her head in her hands, her fingers digging into her own scalp through her dyed hair.
Her brother was alive. Morag and Laura and the rest of the Sparrows had lied about it for her whole life. The rebels were being led by the True King, and only she knew about the dreadful trap that had been set and might bring it all to an end.
Neala's breath started to come heavy and too quickly, and panic clawed at her chest. She forced herself to breathe through her nose slowly, the way that Laura had taught her.
After just a few moments, she'd gotten herself back under control. She straightened up, getting back to her feet, and turned to face the door again.
Morag and Ann were prisoners.
Cailean was alive.
A trap was set that might destroy the rebellion.
Neala was the only one who knew all of these things. But she was not simply Neala, the White Sparrow. She was Neala McNair, Princess of Scotland, sister to the True King.
Now what was she going to do about it?
12
"Stay behind me," Eoin commanded, placing himself more firmly between Breana and the approaching soldiers. The king's men had spread out and were now coming at them from four different angles, their deadly blades glinting in the moonlight. "And when ye can, run. Grab one of the horses if ye can."
Breana grabbed an arrow with her shaking hand and nocked it in her bow. "Dinnae be a fool. If ye're fightin', I'm fightin' alongside ye."
"Breana—"
"Look, the lassie has a bow," one of the guards taunted. "Och, I love it when they're fiery. Where do ye think he found a feisty bed warmer like this? Perhaps it's part of their play?"
"I'll find a way tae tame her," another grinned. "Ye ever been bedded by arealman, lass? Dinnae ye worry, I'll teach ye how tae give pleasure in ways this weak little traitor has never dreamed of. Maybe if ye do well, I'll even keep ye alive."
