Darren pulled her up and nodded toward Cailean. "Dinnae be so embarrassed. He isnae judgin' ye as much as ye think he is, ye ken. We've all struggled at times; it's just a matter of kennin' how tae get better."
Maeve knew that Darren was trying to make her feel better, but the fact that he knew that she was preoccupied with how Cailean was viewing her just made her feel more embarrassed. Did everyone notice the way that her eyes strayed to him all the time? Did everyone see the way that she was failing over and over again?
Her spiraling thoughts were interrupted as Cailean's voice rang out over the training field. "All right! Everybody stop!"
There was a general clatter as everyone halted what they were doing and swords were dropped or held at their masters' sides. All eyes, including Maeve's, turned to Cailean with unabashed curiosity. Though Cailean usually gave directions regularly through the morning and afternoon sessions, it was very rare that he interrupted them mid-spar for any reason other than some immediate danger. Maeve had not experienced that yet, and nervousness filled her heart at the thought. Was there a chance that the English were coming? Or worse, couldtheyhave found her?
But Cailean's face, when she looked at him, did not seem worried. His gray eyes simply seemed intrigued and curious, and his handsome face seemed focused.
"Darren," Cailean called, "Get up here a minute, aye?"
Darren gave Maeve a fancy, playful little bow and jogged over to Cailean's side. "Aye, sir," he said in his usual lighthearted tone. "What can I do for ye?"
"Ye can help me demonstrate somethin'," Cailean said. "Draw yer sword. We're gonnae spar."
Grinning, Darren said, "As yer friend or as yer subordinate?" he asked. "Because me response depends on how ye answer."
"None of ye are me subordinates," Cailean reminded him, and even from a distance, Maeve could see him rolling his eyes with a tiny smile on his face. "Just draw yer sword."
Darren did so with a flourish. "I'm surprised ye want me tae embarrass ye in front of the others," he teased.
They both got into position, then Cailean signaled for the bout to begin. Maeve, along with the others, watched with fascination.
The two men clashed with surprising speed and strength, their swords clanging together without hesitation. They moved almost as though they were performing a choreographed dance, dodging and weaving and striking in the light of the sun. A fewpeople were muttering and gasping behind Maeve, and a few others were placing bets on who would win, but it was all she could do to watch with a slightly open mouth at the remarkable scene in front of her.
Then, all of a sudden, Darren let out a cry, and with a deft move, Cailean sent him tumbling to the ground. In a flash, Cailean stood over Darren, his sword pointed at his friend's throat.
"Yield?" Cailean asked.
Darren grunted. "This time," he said. "I'll get ye next time."
Cailean laughed and withdrew his sword, helping Darren to his feet just as Darren had so recently helped Maeve. "Thank ye," he said, patting Darren on the shoulder. Then he turned to the crowd and said, "Now, who can tell me where Darren went wrong?"
This resulted in a wave of amusement across the group of warriors, and predictably, an onslaught of lighthearted ribbing started around the field.
"He should probably learn tae fight, first of all!"
"Maybe it's because he was dancin' rather than sparrin'."
"The mistake started shortly after he was born…"
Cailean allowed this for a moment or two, then held up a hand. "All right, all right, enough." He turned to Darren and said, "What about ye? Where do ye think ye went wrong?"
Darren rubbed the back of his head. "Probably when I became yer friend years ago," he said, then laughed, taking the whole thing in his stride. Cailean snorted, then made a gesture that he wanted a serious answer, so Darren added, "But seriously, I'm nae sure how ye got the upper hand. I was doin' me best."
Cailean nodded. "Ye would have beaten most people, I admit it. But… well, let's see if someone can work out how I had the advantage. Mary?"
Maeve looked up, surprised to hear him address her. "Me?"
"Aye, ye. Why do ye think I was able tae beat Darren when we're of at least equal skill level?" Cailean did not say it like someone who was bragging; he sounded genuinely interested in how Maeve would answer.
Maeve really wanted to make a good impression, so she ran over what she had just witnessed in her head. The first impression was that it had been two impossibly good fighters clashing, and that Darren had been overcome as if out of nowhere. But as she rewatched the fight in her mind, she noticed something.
"Ye won because ye ken how he fights," Maeve said slowly. "That's it, isnae it? Ye ken the way he tends to favor attacks from the left, and ye were able tae adjust tae make sure that ye could counter it."
Cailean rewarded her answer with a warm, genuine smile that made Maeve's body tingle just to see it. It felt like she was standing in the sun in a way that had nothing to do with the morning light that was shining upon them. "Very good," he said. "That's exactly it. We all have wee quirks that we rely on, and as warriors, it's our job tae identify not only our opponents', but also our own."
There was some general muttering that followed this announcement, and Cailean let it pass before he spoke again.
