Page 11 of The Lost Highland Prince (The Last Celtic King #1)

10

Chapter Ten

Training was not going as well as Maeve had hoped. It had been a difficult four weeks with Senan, but at least he had been able to focus on her exclusively and cater the training to her needs. With Cailean and the whole camp now part of her training, Maeve was having much more trouble in keeping up than she'd anticipated. Every night, her bones and muscles ached from the day's grueling practice, her skin decorated with bruises and scrapes, her nerves frayed from tiredness and struggles to keep up.

She was not miserable by any means, and sure, some days she felt invigorated, but other days she found herself feeling so tired and hopeless about catching up that she wanted to weep. She'd been trying her very best to follow Cailean's advice and respect her own boundaries, but as the days and even weeks passed, it was becoming painfully obvious that she was just slipping further and further behind. Quickness was one thing, but it was nothing to experience; wit was wonderful, but it fell away in the face of practiced strength. She didn't know if she'd ever be able to catch up.

The problem wasn't so much that she felt bad about falling behind. She could take a hit, both metaphorical and literal, without fear. But as she caught the pitying glances of her comrades and heard their sympathetic words, she worried that she was disappointing them. Worse, she constantly felt Cailean's eyes upon her, and a deep panic filled her at the thought that she might be proving his initial assessment of her correct after all. What if he grew tired of waiting for her to catch up?

"Ye neednae worry so much," Patty told her one morning when they were eating breakfast together.

"Worry?" Maeve asked. "What makes ye think I'm worryin'?"

"It's been two weeks, and we've been together for all of it," Patty replied with a laugh. "Ferda will be back in a few days too, and if I dinnae make sure ye're all right, it'll be me on the line. I can tell when ye're worried by the way ye furrow yer brow, pet. I've bandaged enough of yer trainin' wounds tae ken it."

Maeve smiled a little ruefully. "I'm nae worried," she insisted, but then relaxed a little. She knew that Patty wouldn't believe that everything was fine, and besides, she didn't want to lie to her. "I'm just… tired. I thought things would be goin' better by now, that's all."

"With the trainin'? Och, go easy on yerself. These people have been at it for years, and ye've had, what, a month, two, at most, after a lifetime of nothin'?" Patty gave her a smile and a shrug. "Ye'll get there eventually. But as yer friend and yer healer, I want ye tae make sure ye dinnae kill yerself along the way."

"I've nae intention of dyin'," Maeve replied, laughing, though there was an undercurrent of seriousness to her words too. "But I want tae make sure that the life I'm livin' means somethin'."

"Cannae mean anythin' if ye're a crumpled heap on the ground," Patty replied. She put her hand on Maeve's shoulder and added, "Do ye want me tae tell Cailean that ye need a wee break? He willnae mind if?—"

"No!" Maeve insisted, more loudly than she'd intended. Patty raised an eyebrow, and Maeve lowered her voice before continuing. "No, no. I'm fine. I just need tae keep goin'."

"Aye, but?—"

"Look, I promise I'll nae go too far," Maeve interrupted. She secretly knew that this wasn't possible, because she would not allow herself to show so much weakness as to give up in front of the other warriors.

Patty snorted. "Ye'll go too far," she said. "But dinnae worry. I'll be here tae patch ye up. That's what we do for each other here."

Maeve smiled, partly out of thanks but mostly because she was still marveling over the fact that she believed it. This was a family, and they looked out for each other, even if, she remembered with a twinge of guilt, it was a family she'd have to lie to for as long as she was a member of it.

"Ye comin', Mary?" someone called. Maeve looked up to see Dirk, the young Bruce cousin, calling to her from nearby. He'd been exceptionally kind to her since that first day, looking up to her almost as if she were an older sister. Maeve wasn't sure if it was simply out of embarrassment for his words when she was introduced or if he genuinely had grown to like her, but she thought it was sweet anyway.

She got to her feet, bid her goodbyes to Patty, and hurried over to follow Dirk to the training ground. Her muscles ached with every step, but there was a feeling of excitement within her as well. Maybe today, at last, would be the day that she would finally be able to keep up with Cailean's training regimen. Maybe today, at last, she wouldn't embarrass herself.

"Dinnae overdo it!" Patty called after her.

"Nae promises," Maeve muttered under her breath.

* * *

Despite her hopefulness, Maeve quickly found herself falling behind as the morning session began. Her hands were so stiff that she could barely hold her training sword, and she kept dropping it so much that she was sure the others must be laughing at her, even though nobody did any such thing. Everyone else was moving faster than she was, everyone else was stronger, and no matter how much she tried to use her wits to stay ahead in the sparring, her frustration was beginning to make her make stupid mistakes.

Worst of all, she felt Cailean's eyes upon her as she stumbled and fell over for the third time in a row. Darren, who was serving as her training partner, put out a hand to help her up.

"Are ye all right? I didnae mean tae shove ye so hard," Darren said, kindness in his eyes and voice.

Maeve accepted the offered hand, her cheeks flaming with embarrassment. "Ye barely touched me. I'm just off me game today."

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, could they have 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 few people 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.

"So we're gonnae learn tae cover our own weaknesses today," he said. "We need tae learn how tae be versatile in combat, and that starts with learnin' to make our disadvantages intae advantages. I want ye all tae hold yer swords."

A general noise sounded as everyone instantly obeyed, Maeve included. Even though her hands hurt, she didn't hesitate before she held the sword tight.

"Good. Now, switch them tae yer other hand."

There was a moment of confusion, then slowly, everyone started to obey. There were some general noises of confusion and comments about how strange it felt to hold the sword in the non-dominant hand, and Maeve could soon see it was going to cause an issue for several of the fighters who were here to try to operate in this way.

But strangely… this wasn't going to be an issue for Maeve. She was not skilled, not by any means, but what little training she had experienced had prepared her for this moment. Senan had learned early on that Maeve was equally dominant in both hands, something she'd known since she was a child, and so he had made her practice with both since the start. She knew that there would be no sudden reveal that she was better at fighting with her left hand rather than her right but, unlike the others, she would have no disadvantage either.

The thought made her heart leap. Could she have more of a chance?

Darren returned to the group, and Cailean called for everyone to switch partners. A large warrior named Seumidh stood before Maeve, his sword brandished in his left hand.

"Ready?" he asked her.

Maeve held her sword in her own left hand, nerves but also a strange excitement pounding in her chest. "I suppose so. Let's go."

* * *

By the time the session ended, Maeve was still as beat up and exhausted as ever, but as she sat down on the grass to catch her breath, she felt a strange kind of satisfaction. As well as Seumidh, she'd fought several others, and while she hadn't won a single sparring match, she'd come closer to it than ever before, and even managed to land a few hits. The switch-up had not disadvantaged her, but it had definitely thrown the others off, and that filled her with a kind of confidence that she'd never felt before.

Could this be the secret? If she could find her opponents' weaknesses and force them somehow to fight without their usual strengths, could she really find a way to win?

Cailean approached her after a while. "Are ye all right?" he asked.

Surprised that he'd approached her again, Maeve nodded, getting to her feet. "I'm fine. Why do ye ask?"

Cailean gave her a small smile. "Dinnae tell her I told ye, but Patty told me I had tae check in on ye. Ye did well today, by the way."

Maeve rolled her eyes, making a mental note to scold her friend lightly for interfering, but not feeling seriously offended. It was nice to have a chance to talk to Cailean, even if it was for a reason that might be otherwise embarrassing. "Thank ye for the compliment," she said. A thought came to her then, and half in jest but half in earnest, she said, "Wait… can I ask ye somethin'?"

"Ask," Cailean said with a nod.

"Did… did ye do this for me?"

Cailean blinked, looking genuinely surprised by the question. "Do what for ye?" he asked, puzzled.

Undeterred, Maeve, still in a half-joking voice, said, "The switching of the way we fight. Ye gave me an advantage, or at least removed some of me own disadvantage. I ken ye noticed I was strugglin', and I thought…"

Cailean was already shaking his head. "Me methods had nothin' tae do with ye directly," he said, gently but firmly. "Me job is tae make sure that everyone is performin' tae their peak. That's why I had Darren, the best of us, act as me partner for the demonstration. Remember, I dinnae have time for one-tae-one trainin' durin' our daily sessions. I've a whole army tae care for."

Maeve immediately felt chastened by the way that he shut her down, wondering if it was possible to bruise her ego any more than it was already damaged after her weeks of failure. Cailean had only mildly rebuked her, and his words had been entirely fair; it had been foolish of her to center her own challenges in his decisions, which were being made for the whole warrior faction of the rebellion.

But then, who could blame her for thinking this way? She'd never been a part of anything before. How did she know what it was to work as part of a unit? Despite her embarrassment, the way that Cailean was watching her and the realization that she was now part of this group was enough to wipe it away.

"But… if ye have some time tae spare this afternoon, then come and meet me at the stables," Cailean suggested. "I have another way that I might be able tae help ye tailor yer trainin' tae yer strengths — and yer weaknesses."

"Ye'd do that for me?" Maeve asked, her shock making the words fall out of her mouth before she could even think about them.

Cailean shrugged. "Will ye be there?"

Before she could respond or Cailean could say anything else, someone else called for Cailean, and after bidding her a polite goodbye, he turned and jogged off toward Fergus. He turned back and gave her a quick smile, and Maeve's heart fluttered in her chest.

Yes, she'd meet him this afternoon. And whatever he had prepared, she and her ego would both be ready.