"Traitor I am nae," Cailean announced. "Me name is Cailean McNair, and me father was yer rightful king. One day, I hope tae earn the right tae say the same. Darach was the traitor — Kyle and Malcolm both. Thieves, liars, and murderers. They took everythin', nae just from me but from all of ye as well. Ask yerself, how have ye suffered under their rule? What have they taken from ye — from the whole country?"
The expected whispers started again, but Cailean stood strong, not flinching back from the stares and suspicion and, yes,hopethat he felt emanating his way. Maeve had taught him that it was time to stand up and be who he was, who he had to be; to step up and be the king that he had been born to be. No more running away.
"This castle, and the lands around it, will be returned tae the Bruce clan. Kier Bruce is a good, fair man, and he willnae displace anyone who has made a home here, so long as they swear loyalty tae him and tae me," Cailean went on. "Wewilloverthrow the False King and bring Scotland back tae where sheonce was. Now. Ye may stay, or ye may flee. But if ye can, and if ye wish it, I urge those amongst ye who are warriors tae join me. Join me cause. Help fight back, nae just for yerselves but against the injustices our whole country has faced. Help me save our people, whatever the cost may be."
He expected resistance. Maybe even derision. But what happened instead took his breath away.
One by one, soldiers began to kneel. First a few, then more, and then almost all of the Darach army had knelt before him.
"We're yers, me king," Sean Darach said simply. "If ye'll have us. We're tired of bein' the villains. We want tae save our people, too."
Darren's voice called out over the bowed heads. "Tae the True King!" he cried.
And then, overwhelming Cailean, the rallying echo was picked up by the previous Darach men and the rebels alike.
"The True King! Cailean McNair!"
Cailean felt one of his hands shaking, but he grasped it in his other, determined to stay strong. He wondered how his father and his mother would have felt to see him here now. He thought of his brothers, who had been the ones for whom this role had been meant, and of his sisters, who had been robbed of the chance for any future. He thought of Maeve, strong and beautiful and loving, inspiring him on no matter what, and of the four old mentors who'd made him the man he had to be.
He knew that he would do them proud.
"Stand," he declared. "And let's face the world as one."
The feast held to celebrate the return of the Bruces to the clan and the return of the rightful king was beyond anything thatMaeve had ever witnessed in her life. The castle stores had been raided, and many of the villagers from the castle town had joined them in celebrating the death of the tyrant and the rise of hope, which had been gone from this place for such a long time that many had felt they'd never see it again.
There was dancing, drinking, eating, merrymaking, and singing. The Darrach banners were taken down from the castle that very night, and soon enough, the Bruce colors would hang in their place, along with the sign of the capercaillie signalling the McNairs had truly returned.
Maeve watched from the sidelines, smiling at the little snippets of joy that she saw. Darren, dancing with several women and drinking perhaps more than he could handle. Kier, embracing Cailean and showing more emotion on his gruff face than Maeve had ever seen there as he surveyed a home he'd once thought he'd never return to. Eoin, being welcomed into the brotherhood of rebels with open arms. More faces, more joy, and the flickering flame of hope in so many who had thought it extinguished forever. Maeve knew that she should mingle, get to know people more, and be a part of it all, but for now, she simply couldn't bring herself to leave Breana's side.
"I thought I'd never see ye again," she told her sister for the thousandth time as they stood together, hand in hand, a little to the side of the main events of the feast. "I'm so glad…"
"I'm glad too, and oh so sorry, Maeve. I should have done somethin' to stop ye gettin' married off tae Malcolm Darach in the first place." Breana's eyes were filled with tears. "When Kyle came tae claim me, I… I saw it as a penance."
"A penance!" Maeve demanded, horrified. "Bree, what could ye have done against Father's wishes?"
"I'm the older sister. I could have…"
"Stop that," Maeve told her firmly. "Stop. We both deserved better than what we got from our family. Ye protected me as bestas ye could, just as I tried tae protect ye — but we were caught in our circumstances."
"I thought ye were dead," Breana whispered. "Father told us ye were dead. I thought—oh, Maeve, when I saw ye in the castle, I thought for a moment I'd died too. It's bafflin' tae me that we're both standin' here, nae father and nae awful husbands hangin' over us."
"Ha! It would take more than a man like Darach tae kill me," Maeve said in a jovial tone, trying and succeeding to make her sister laugh. After a moment, she got more serious. "In some ways, bein' sold tae Malcolm and bein' able tae escape and build meself anew was the best thing that could have ever happened in me life." She touched Breana's cheek. "And now ye're free, too. Now ye can be anyone ye want tae be."
Breana inhaled sharply. "I have nae idea who I want tae be. I dinnae have any idea who I am."
"Then let's find out. Together," Maeve told her. She smiled. "After all, I never thought I'd be a sword-wieldin' rebel, but look at me now."
That made Breana chuckle again. "I still cannae believe it," she said, shaking her head. "And bein' beside the True King… the prince they told us was long dead…" She looked out over the crowd, toward where Cailean was now talking to Fergus. "I can scarcely believe it."
Maeve heard the wonder in her sister's voice and almost laughed. She knew she would have to get used to this kind of wonder and awe, but to her, more than anything, he wasCaileanfirst and foremost. "Enough about him," she said. "It's been so long since we saw each other — are ye well? Before ye came here, did Father treat ye well?" She paused. "Is… is our sister…?"
"Our sister is as she's always been," Breana told her, a sad look passing behind her kind eyes. "She and father are two of a kind. I tried hard tae help her become a kinder person — taebecome someone who she can be proud of. She's our younger sister, and I wanted tae help her like we helped each other. But she never… she never seemed tae care."
Though the words didn't surprise Maeve, they saddened her anyway. "I had hoped…"
"She believes our father is right in what he does, I think. Or she sees how it benefits her and she doesnae seem tae care beyond that." Breana shrugged. "But… Maeve, I think there's more tae her than that. Maybe we can save her, too, still."
"I hope so," Maeve said, and she meant it. She looked at the gathered people, at her family, and her heart ached at the thought of her own sister being on the outside of it. She squeezed Breana's hand. "But for now, we need tae celebrate that we, at least, are together. And nothin' is ever gonnae tear us apart again, I swear it."
