He grunted. Maybe he was a fool, but he believed her. It wasn't that he trusted this person who had lied to him about everything, but he trusted what she said right now. For some reason, it made him relax a little to know that she wasn't a cold-blooded murderer, even if the person who had been killed was amongst those who had deserved it most in all of the world. "Can ye walk?"
"Aye."
He reached out and took her hand again, tugging on her. "Come on. We need tae find me horse."
"Ye believe me?" she asked quietly.
His head was such a whirl of confusion that he didn't know what to answer at all. All he managed to let out was, "Ye're nae done explainin' yet. Just keep walkin'."
Maeve was terrified. The way that Cailean had yelled at her had scared her, but the iciness with which he was speaking to her now was even more terrifying. The idea of him being so disappointed in her was worse than his rage. Had he believed her that she hadn't killed Malcolm? Did it matter?
She allowed him to pull her through the woods, not daring to speak a word, not daring to say anything at all. He had told her that she had to explain, but he didn't prompt her to speak more, and she was scared that when she did, the fragile relationship that had built between them over these weeks would be shattered forever. Would he send her away from the camp? Would she lose everyone after all, even though she had fought so hard to save them?
Maeve tried to pull her mind away from that fear, but whenever she did, all she could see in her mind's eye were thecorpses of the dead men they'd left behind; the men she'd killed. Between that and the way that Cailean had spoken to her, the way she thought she'd lost his trust forever, she had never felt so low.
They emerged from the trees nearby and both of them slowed to a stop. There was a small farmhouse hidden in the clearing with a large field around it, and all of the horses — Maeve's and Cailean's included — seemed to have found their way here. Maeve felt a surge of relief to see the animals; she'd worried that when she sent her horse away she would never see it again, and she would never have forgiven herself if the animals were hurt on top of all the human injuries and fatalities of the day.
The horses were grazing in the field, and Cailean let out a sigh of relief. They approached and checked the animals over and saw that they seemed to be fine. Cailean took a few moments, then he turned to Maeve and said, "Before we go anywhere, we're gonnae finish our conversation."
Maeve swallowed and nodded. "Ask me what ye need tae. I'll answer honestly, I swear it."
"Maeve," he said. It sounded awkward in his mouth, like he was testing it out, but hearing Cailean say her real name out loud made something deep inside her shiver. "Tell me the truth. Why did ye join me camp? What are yer intentions? Why and how did ye flee from Castle Darach? And why would they frame ye, if ye truly didnae do the crime?"
Taking a deep breath, Maeve knew she had no choice but to tell him the whole story. She let out a shaky breath and decided to start from the beginning.
"I never married Malcolm Darach by choice. Me father, ye ken who he is by me name I'm sure, he basically sold me tae keep a good relationship with the Darachs. I wasnae worth any more than a bargaining chip tae Laird O'Sullivan."
"His own daughter?" Cailean didn't look like he believed her. "I ken that lassies marry for political ties all the time, but I'd heard that O'Sullivan treats his daughter well since his wife died. Like a wee pet."
Maeve flinched at the words. "Aye. Me youngest sister has always been the pet. And he more or less left me older sister, Breana, alone, as far as I could manage tae protect her anyway. But me… he never had time for me, not when me mother was alive and certainly not after. I was another mouth tae feed, another lassie disappointin' him because I wasnae a son. I had me fair share of beatin's and he saw me as nothin' but a nuisance. When me mother died, it only got worse. So when Malcolm Darach chose me, Father sent me away without a thought."
Cailean grimaced. "I see. And ye went."
"I had nae choice. The only good thing about it all is that…" Maeve paused and blushed. "Well, there was never any chance of me producin' an heir. Malcolm left me alone."
Cailean's embarrassment at her implication was obvious, but thankfully he never asked her any more detail on that. She wasn't sure she was ready to revisit that in full, or her complicated feelings that surrounded it after Ann's revelation.
"So ye didnae kill him?" Cailean pressed. "Ye're tellin' me ye had nothin' tae do with it?"
"I didnae kill him," Maeve insisted. "We never even slept in the same bedroom. I only went by his room tae return a necklace he'd bid me wear at a feast… and when I entered I saw him." She pursed her lips, the image flooding back into her mind; Malcolm, his eyes wide open and staring, his skin pale except where it was stained with deep red. "It was… horrible."
"So if ye didnae murder him, who did?" Cailean's voice was no longer so harsh, and instead he sounded more like someone trying to solve a puzzle. He still didn't seem sure if he believedher entirely, but Maeve could see that he was softening a little, and she clung tight to the hope that this gave her.
"Kyle Darach killed Malcolm. I ken it."
Cailean raised an eyebrow. "Ye ken for sure?"
"I trust me sources. Ann of the White Sparrows, she saved me, and?—"
"Ye ken Ann?" Cailean sounded truly surprised now. "Ann saved ye? How can that be?"
And so Maeve told him the rest; how Eoin and Ann had both been watching over her in their own ways while she'd been a prisoner in that sham of a marriage; how she'd been nearly put to death until Ann broke her free with Eoin's help; and how she'd been invited to join the Sparrows but had ended up at Bill's inn instead.
"Ye'd have been good amongst the Sparrows," Cailean said when she was done. He didn't meet her eyes. "They, too, need tae ken how tae be swift and quick-thinkin'. And ken how tae lie."
It was a small dig at her, but it hurt as though it was a blow. She could see that she'd shattered his trust entirely, and despite knowing that she'd only done what she had to do to survive, the guilt that threatened to overwhelm her just kept rising. "I ken how tae lie," she admitted. "But that doesnae mean I like it. I hated every moment that someone called me Mary. I hated every second I couldnae tell everyone the truth. Ye've become like me family, the first real family I ever had besides me sister, and I…" her voice faltered under his cold gaze. "Please, Cailean. Have ye never had tae hide somethin' even though ye kent the truth would give ye freedom? Have ye never had tae lie about who ye are?"
A dark shadow flitted across Cailean's face at the question, and Maeve was reminded of that beautiful pin and the capercaillie proudly displayed in its sigil. She'd had her suspicions for a long time about Cailean, but could they be true?She clenched one of her hands into a fist to try to get a hold of herself. It didn't matter if it was true or not, not now. She would not voice her thoughts and suspicions and ruin any chance she had of gaining his forgiveness.
