"But they fight already!"
"Tae live!" Cailean countered. "They fight tae survive! If I come along and make claims of grandeur, they'll fight tae win, and that means they'll fight tae die. I willnae allow the people I care for tae needlessly lose their lives."
"How is it needless?" Maeve threw her hands in the air, exasperated. "We have the chance tae put men like Kyle Darach, men like me father, out of their positions. Tae restore Kier's family home and seat, or open up supplies and bring food and joy tae villages like this one once again. Are they nae things worth layin' down our lives for?"
"Worth layin' down me own life for? Aye," Cailean replied. "But I'll never lay down everyone else's." His voice broke at the end, and he looked away. "It's time tae drop the subject."
"How can I drop this now that I ken the truth?" Maeve asked. She felt herself growing deeply upset in her chest, like something was fundamentally wrong and she didn't know what to do about it. It had been the longest day of her life, with so many different events, but this moment was the one that felt like it was going to break her. There was a deep disappointment within her at how Cailean was reacting to this.
"Ye love this country," she told him quietly. "I can hear it in yer words, see it in the way ye act. Ye ken yer duty and ye're nae the type tae shy away from it. How can ye let fear of loss turn ye away from somethin' so important?"
"Ye ken nothin' of duty," he said irritably.
"Idinnae? Ye think I married Malcolm Darach for fun, do ye?" Maeve folded her arms. "We all have our hardships tae bear. Ye, though, have the chance tae make a difference. How can ye turn away from it?"
Cailean scowled. "Enough. Enough." He turned away from her. "I'm goin' tae me hut and I'm goin' tae sleep. Ye should do the same."
"Wait, Cailean…"
But he pushed past her and stormed off, the irritation and confusion emanating from him so strongly that it seemed to linger in his wake. Maeve stood there by the river, the shadow of the broken windmill in the distance, and she'd never felt so alone.
Cailean returned to his sleeping hut and found Darren there, sitting awake and waiting for him.
"Ye want tae talk about it?" Darren asked as soon as Cailean entered. He was sitting on his bed, watching his friend with anunusually intense expression on his usually playful face. "Ferda filled me in on all the rest."
Cailean appreciated what his friend was doing, but the last thing he wanted to do now was talk more. It had been too much today, too many twists and turns that he just couldn't handle. This morning he'd woken up ready to face and explore unexpected feelings that had bubbled to the surface, and now a whole slew of very different feelings had taken over, and he had no idea what was going on inside his heart and head.
"I dinnae want tae talk," he said roughly.
Darren nodded slowly. "So she was Darach's bride, eh? Poor lass. God only kens what she went through. It's a hard thing, yer duty takin' away yer happiness."
"Ye're nae bein' as subtle as ye think ye are," Cailean told him, disappearing behind their partition to wash and change. "I already said I dinnae want tae talk."
"Aye, but I do," Darren told him. "Did me da suggest we use her tae our advantage? Is that what's got ye so riled up?"
Cailean washed his face in the basin, not answering. He could still hear Maeve's accusation and disbelief in his mind, and he didn't want to think about it. He felt so torn, so split in two, trying to choose between what was right for his family and what was right for the country. It was a hopeless burden, and one he didn't know how to bear alone, yet also one he knew that he couldn't share with anyone else.
"All right, all right. I willnae push," Darren said after a moment. "But ye'll need tae talk tae me eventually." He was silent for a long time, and only when Cailean exited from behind the partition did he speak again. "But I will say one more thing."
"Of course ye will," Cailean replied with a groan, laying back on his bed. "Can ye nae just go tae sleep?"
"One thing, I swear. It's about Maeve. Bonny name that, by the way. Suits her better than Mary."
"I dinnae want tae talk about Maeve," Cailean told him sharply. "Nor about what yer da wants, nor about anythin'. I just want tae sleep."
"Do ye think when ye go tae sleep it'll make it go away?" Darren asked quietly. He blew out the candle that was flickering on the makeshift table at the side of the bed and the hut plunged into darkness. "I dinnae."
"I cannae possibly ken until I've tried it," Cailean told him grumpily. "Nae more talkin'. Goodnight."
Darren let out a long sigh, but he didn't speak again, much to Cailean's relief. Cailean closed his eyes, but rest did not come. Images swirled in his brain; dead men in the woods, reverence in the eyes of a blacksmith, the awe in the voice of an old woman. He groaned, turning on his side, and heard Maeve's voice in his ear, accusing him, pleading with him, knowing him more than he'd ever wanted to be known.
He tossed and turned for hours, his mind rebelling despite his body's exhaustion. And when sleep finally came, it brought with it dreams of smoke and blood.
19
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Maeve did not return to her sleeping hut that night, though she knew that the tiredness would overwhelm her by the time that the sun deigned to rise. She wandered along the river, spent some time in the training field, and explored the camp in the darkness of the night, the tiredness in her body never quite managing to quell the churning waves in her mind.
