"These rebels are all I have left.Ye'reall I have left, because ye're one of us, Maeve, nae matter what. I willnae risk everythin'. I cannae lose everythin' again. I cannae watch me family die before me eyes and dae nothin' about it. Nae again." He balled his hand into a fist and slammed it against a tree. "I'm nae fightin' tae win. I'm fightin' tae survive. There's nae winnin' against a monster who already took everythin'."
He fell silent, but the night air around them suddenly felt loud. The bugs chirped in the grass, the water bubbled as it ran by, and Maeve swore she could hear her own heartbeat hammering in her chest. Somewhere deep in the woods, a birdcalled, and Maeve's mind traveled back to the blacksmith and the symbol on a golden pin. A symbol of secrets.
"I'm… I'm nae the only one who lied about me name, am I?" Maeve asked after a moment.
"I didnae lie," he grunted. "McManus was me mother's surname before she wed. It's as much me own name as the one I was born with."
"But ye didnae tell the truth. Nae tae anyone." She stared at him in wonder, barely able to believe it as the truth came crashing down around her ears. She'd been staring it straight in the face for so long that it felt almost impossible that she hadn't realized it until now. "The night he found me, Senan said the prince was alive. That he kent it for sure. Even that he kent him personally."
"Senan talks too much."
Maeve chewed on her lip. "The capercaillie is the symbol of the McNair clan, isnae it? It's the symbol of the true king."
Cailean wouldn't meet her eyes. "Itwasthe symbol of the McNairs. They're all gone now. Barry and Graham were the ones who were meant tae carry it on. Abigail and Neala would have married and made the family grow."
"They're nae all gone. One survived." Maeve got to her feet too, and, hesitating, she put a hand out and touched his arm. He stiffened, but didn't pull away. "Yesurvived. That's who ye are. Cailean McNair, the True King."
"I'm nae king," he told her in a strangled voice. The indirect admission made a cold shiver run down Maeve's spine. It was true. It was all true. She could barely believe it, and yet… yet at the same time, it made more sense than anything.
"Cailean…"
"Bein' a king was never me role. That was never who I was meant tae be. Me brothers were the ones who might have been. And anyway, what would I be now? King of smoke? King of ash?"
The grief in his voice was poignant and it hurt Maeve's heart. She could see the agony in his expression and hear it in his tone, but more than that, she could feel it radiating around him. She now understood the fear he felt, how much it must make him struggle to consider risking the lives of those who fought with him, but it didn't seem like enough. She had grown to know Cailean, even care about him, and she honestly could not reconcile the man she respected with someone who would shy away from his destiny.
"Ye're more than that. Think of the way that the blacksmith reacted tae ye. Think of that woman on the farm. They kent ye, didnae they? They believed in ye. And all these rebels here… does anyone ken who ye are?" Maeve still couldn't make him meet her eyes. "The elders do, that much is clear. Is that why they listen tae ye?"
"I've told them many times that they shouldnae. I'm just another warrior, just another rebel."
Maeve shook her head. "But ye're nae. Dae ye think any other rebel would have stood up tae them like that? Dae ye think anyone else would have thought they had the right tae tell the four eldersnowhen they were all in agreement with a plan?"
Cailean didn't answer.
"Darren kens who ye are, I bet. Does anyone else?"
"A few people," Cailean replied reluctantly. "Nae many. Dinnae repeat anythin' ye've heard here tonight, Maeve. I mean it. After all, there's nothin' tae ken."
"Are ye kiddin'?" Maeve demanded. "All the rebels are here because they believe in the True King. They believe inye."
"They believe in a free Scotland. They believe in overthrowin' the False King. But they dinnae believe in me. They think I'm dead. They dinnae need me as their leader."
"Ye're already their leader," Maeve shot back, a little frustrated now. "Do ye nae see the way we listen tae ye on thetrainin' grounds? Do ye nae hear the way they talk about ye? And nae just the warriors — the cooks, the healers, everybody. Dinnae ye think it'll rally them tae ken that the king they've been longin' for this whole time is actually walkin' among us?"
Cailean shook his head. He was facing her now, but his lips were tight and his expression was drawn. "I willnae reveal meself, because I willnae make a claim tae the throne. Nae now, and perhaps nae ever."
"But why wouldnae ye do so?" Maeve demanded. "Why would ye not wish tae?—"
"Because we already live dangerous enough lives, Maeve!" Cailean finally met her eyes, and the expression behind his was tortured. "We're already traitors in the eyes of the crown, already men and women who should be exterminated on sight accordin' tae the folk who hold all the power. Do ye really think I want tae put me own ego in front of keepin' an even bigger target from me friends' backs?"
Maeve couldn't believe what she was hearing. "Are ye serious right now?" she demanded. "None of us are here for a safe life, and ye ken it. We each have dedicated our lives tae this cause, me included. Dinnae ye think it's an insult tae keep the truth from us?"
"Comin' from ye?" Cailean asked, his eyebrow raised. "Ye dinnae understand. If I told them who I was, everythin' would change. They'd expect me tae be their leader, tae wage an outright war that I dinnae think we can win. I willnae lead me men and women intae mindless slaughter for the sake of a title that was robbed from me a long, long time ago. I willnae let the last part of the McNair legacy be death and sacrifice in me name. I willnae allow needless bloodshed just for my sake."
Maeve could almost understand where he was coming from, but she couldn't quite reconcile it all in her mind. How could Cailean stand here with the birthright that so many peoplebelieved in and turn away from it? How could he not understand the immense power that would come from accepting both the truth and the responsibility that would come with it? Did he not understand what was at stake? Their lives, sure — but also the lives of the people, just like the villagers here in Broken Windmill, and the hearts and souls that surrounded them. The beating heart of Scotland, oppressed under the rule of the False King, needed Cailean to take on the mantle that had been waiting for him for twenty years.
"We're already dyin'," she said quietly. "We're already fightin' and bleedin'. Knowingly. Willingly. Not just this group of rebels, but pockets all over Scotland, already layin' down their lives for the shadow of hope, the ghost of a prince who they ken may only exist in their hearts and minds. Would it nae be a powerful statement tae stand up and show them that the prince is real? That there really is a figure that they're fightin' for?"
"I dinnae want people tae fight for me," Cailean replied. "I just want them tae live."
