Page 23 of The Lost Highland Prince (The Last Celtic King #1)

22

Chapter Twenty-Two

An hour passed, then two, and Maeve's heart sank as they shivered in the cold night air. The tall pine trees around them were no shelter from the wind, and as they peered around them to watch the old ruins, it seemed that the forest itself was actually channeling the cold toward them. Maeve tried hard not to take it as a bad omen.

There was no sign of Eoin, and she was growing terribly worried that something had happened to him. She could hear the others muttering amongst themselves, many obviously doubting Eoin's loyalty to Maeve, and some of them were even worried that he might have taken the message and turned them in. But Maeve knew that wasn't the case. She just knew it, deep in her heart. Whatever was preventing Eoin from joining them, it was something bad, something that meant he or Sadie might be in danger.

"Are ye sure about this man?" Cailean asked her for the thousandth time. He took her hand in his and squeezed gently, making it clear there was no reproach in his words, and Maeve appreciated the comfort his touch gave. "Ye even admit that ye didnae ken him very well. I ken he saved yer life, but he's still the chieftain's son…"

"I ken who he is, and who he isnae," Maeve told him a little sharply. "He'll come."

"And if he doesnae?" Cailean asked quietly.

Maeve didn't have an answer for that, and it filled her with an intense fear. Terrible images swirled in her head, mixed with memories of her time here, waking nightmares of being trapped in the arms of men who had no hearts to speak of and less soul. If Eoin wasn't coming, was he being interrogated by his slimy, horrifying father? Was he hurt? Or was it simply that he wasn't at the castle? There were so many possibilities, and doubt crept into Maeve's heart no matter how much she tried to push it away.

But then, just as she was about to admit her own fears, hope arrived in the form of Sadie, the stablemaster's daughter and White Sparrow who had taken the message in the first place. She was young, only seventeen or eighteen, and seemed nervous every time she spoke, but Ann had assured Maeve that she was dedicated to the cause, and that was good enough.

Maeve had only glimpsed the girl before — a plain but not homely young thing with mouse brown hair who was always more at home with the horses. But today, she looked pale and thin. Had she always been that way? Or perhaps the work with the Sparrows had brought it out in her? Maeve frowned slightly and moved forward to reintroduce herself, surprised when the young woman flinched.

"I'm… I'm sorry tae have kept ye all waitin'," Sadie told them, that same nervousness in her voice now. "I… I didnae ken… and then when I found out, I…"

"Didnae ken what?" Fergus asked with an unexpected gentleness that made Maeve smile slightly.

Her smile soon faded, though, as Sadie answered. "Kyle… the Chieftain, I mean… he kept it quiet. He didnae want the whole country kennin' he'd imprisoned his own son, I suppose."

A shocked silence fell across the small group, and finally Maeve let out a strangled, "What?"

Sadie looked at her with wide, apologetic eyes, and Maeve could see even in the darkness that they were filled with tears. "He was caught. They found out he was part of yer escape, Maeve, and he didnae make it better for himself by publicly dissentin' from his father whenever he got the chance. He kept helpin' people, protestin' his father's wishes, and eventually, it all got too much — Kyle locked him up."

"His own son…" Cailean stated, not a question but an exclamation of disgust and regret.

Sadie blinked away her tears, her voice shaking with even more anxiety as he continued. "He's… he's a monster, sir. A true monster. I ken ye all think Malcolm Darach was bad, but at least he had some limits. Kyle is a tyrant. He kills without thinkin' twice. He takes and takes and takes. He's raised taxes to the point that no one in the clan will be able tae afford tae eat. He's taken over people's homes for his own and turned them out intae the night with nothin'. He beats the servants, and he…" she faltered. "He takes them when he wants them. More than one servin' girl or kitchen lad has disappeared intae his chambers and never returned."

Maeve remembered how it had felt when Kyle had approached her, the way he'd made her feel trapped, small, terrified. Her hands trembled to think what he was putting the people of this clan through, and she knew that, no matter what, he had to be stopped.

"There's talk of fightin'," Sadie continued. "He's talkin' about invadin' other clan lands and claimin' them in the name of the False King — but really in the name of himself. He wants tae make Clan Darach the rulers of the Highlands in all but name."

"There will be fightin'," Cailean told her grimly, "But perhaps nae the kind he thinks." He turned to the group and said, "The situation is dire."

Maeve saw that Darren was uncharacteristically pale, anger and pain on his face. "These are me people, Cailean," Darren whispered. "Bruce people, trapped under the banner of this animal. We need tae kill him."

"I can help ye," Sadie told them. "There are passages snakin' through this whole complex — the same passages Maeve used tae escape. Some of them lead directly tae the chieftain's chambers. If ye let me guide ye…"

"We'll do it," Fergus said instantly, then paused. "If that's all right with ye, sir."

Maeve saw Cailean flinch in surprise at his friend referring to him with the term of respect, but he didn't protest. Instead, he nodded and said, "Aye." He turned back to the group. "We'll take eight of us. The rest of ye, head back tae the rebels. Let the forces ken what's happenin'. They should come, but hopefully hold back. We want tae avoid a full-scale assault if possible."

"What's the plan?" Maeve asked him.

Cailean looked at the castle, a pensive expression on his face. "We get in. We find Kyle Darach. And we kill him. Cut off the head of the snake before it can strike. Once the chain of command is disrupted, they'll be in chaos. We'll end Darach's tyranny head-on and give ourselves a strategic advantage for gettin' this castle and these lands back where they belong."

Once it was settled, three of the warriors headed off into the night and the other eight — Maeve, Cailean, Darren, Fergus, three other men, and one woman — followed Sadie quietly through the forest and to the entrance of the labyrinth below the castle. It was a different entrance than the exit through which Ann and Eoin had led Maeve; this one was half-hidden behind some rocks at a small waterfall. Silently, in single file, they left the night air behind and entered into the cold stone passageways.

Maeve felt a building sense of panic as they moved inside the bowels of the castle. It felt wrong and alien to be going back here when she'd only so recently managed to escape. Panic clawed at her chest, but she looked ahead of her and saw Cailean walking strong. If he could do this — if he could face up to everything — then so could she. Breathing a little more easily, she kept going.

There were many twists and turns in the passageways, but nobody spoke. It was dark, lit only by a small torch that Sadie carried at the front of their procession, and the rebels had to stay close together in order not to get lost. There were so many twists and turns that Maeve wondered how anyone could possibly know where they were going, but she occasionally heard a scraping sound behind her and eventually looked over her shoulder.

Darren held up a small rock in answer to her silent question. She squinted at the wall in the darkness and realized he'd been marking the stone every few feet, giving himself a sign of the way out in case they ever needed it. Impressed, she nodded at him, then turned back to continue following.

The passageways grew brighter as they got deeper into the castle, with the occasional lit torch on a bracket on the walls. Something about that seemed wrong to Maeve, but she couldn't quite place her finger on what. The light didn't decrease their tension, though; rather, it had the opposite effect. The air seemed to grow tighter the further along they went, and Maeve could feel the tension of all of the rebels building and mounting as they continued to twist through the passageways.

It occurred to Maeve suddenly that she now knew where they were. Foreboding filled her and a cold shiver ran down her spine as she realized that, if she turned left, she would be headed straight back toward the prisons. Thankfully, Sadie led them to the right instead, then silently up some stairs that led to another stone passage that must have been in the castle walls.

"We're almost there," Sadie whispered. They reached a large metal door, and Sadie paused and turned around. Her large eyes were still mournful as she whispered, "And… I'm sorry."

Maeve's blood turned to ice. "Sorry for what?" she asked, though somehow part of her knew.

"They've got me father," Sadie replied. "I cannae lose him. He's all I have left."

Before any of the rebels could react, the door swung open and a wave of Darach soldiers ran through, swords raised and murder in their eyes.

* * *

Cailean knew the ambush was coming only a few seconds before it arrived, but those few seconds were all he needed to formulate a plan. When the twenty Darach men rushed through the doors, he knew it was going to be a battle that might end in tragedy, but he also knew that there were several advantages available to them. The passageway was narrow, meaning that the Darachs wouldn't be able to swarm them; the rebels could push back. He knew Darren had been marking the way; they'd be able to warn the rest of the force before they got here. And, more importantly, he knew his warriors' skill. They might be hopelessly outnumbered, but Cailean had faith that all their training would help them survive.

All this ran through his mind at lightning speed, and when a sword came clashing down toward his head, he already had his own raised to meet it. He parried, knocking his attacker down with force, and shouted, "Darren, Maeve — run!"

"I'm nae leavin'."

"What do ye mean?"

"Do it!" Cailean snarled, fighting off another blow. More men flooded through, and Fergus and the others ran forward to meet them. "Go! Warn them!"

Darren's protesting sound was loud, but Cailean cut him off.

"That's an order !" Cailean told him.

"Be safe," Maeve whispered, and then two sets of hurried footsteps let him know that, to his relief, the two of them had done as he had asked.

He wanted time to explain to the others his plan, wanted time to strategize, but of course, he didn't have it. Twenty men pressed down upon the group of six soldiers, and while all the rebel warriors were fighting with everything they had, Cailean didn't know how long they'd be able to keep it up.

A slice from a sharp knife narrowly missed Cailean's face. Fergus's sword was there in an instant, wounding Cailean's attacker, and the Bruce cousin now stood firm by Cailean's side.

"How long do ye think we can hold them off?" Fergus grunted, raising his sword in a defensive position.

"As long as it takes," Cailean told him, and the two of them launched forward into the fray.

* * *

Maeve and Darren rushed through the passageways, hand in hand to make sure they stayed together, following the marks that Darren had left on the walls. They almost tripped on the stairs, fleeing as fast as they could, but they managed to keep each other upright.

When they reached the first crossroads, though, Maeve stopped, hesitating, and looking off to the passageway on the left.

"What are ye doin'?" Darren demanded, tugging at her hand. "Come on! We need tae hurry!"

"Ye go ahead," Maeve told him. "There's somethin' I need tae do."

Darren stared at her. "Are ye insane? I'm nae leavin' ye here, what if?—"

"Darren, please. Go! We dinnae have time tae argue!" Maeve interrupted. "I'll be fine!"

He stared at her, obviously torn. They could still hear the sounds of the rebels and the ambushers fighting above, and though the rebel warriors were skilled, it was clear they wouldn't be able to hold them off for long. Maeve thought of how she and Cailean had taken down all of those soldiers in the woods, but here, they didn't have the advantage of the trees, or stealth, or being able to take on their attackers one by one.

Suddenly, to her surprise, Darren pulled her into a brotherly hug. "Whatever ye're gonnae do, do it fast and do it safely," he told her. "And make sure that big eejit Cailean gets out of here alive."

"I will," she promised. "Whatever it takes. Go and warn the others. Let's make sure we get yer home back."

Darren released her and with one more look ran off down the corridor back the way they came. He only stopped to grab a torch from one of the brackets as he ran. Maeve fervently hoped it would be enough to light his way and help him escape out of here before it was too late.

Once his flickering light had disappeared around the corner, she took a deep breath and turned toward the left path, then hurried forward.

There was no Eoin by her side now, but as her feet paced along the cold stone floor, it felt like the memory was enough to guide her. He'd led her through these passages to her freedom, and lost his own in turn. Now it was time to return the favor. She wouldn't leave him here to rot, not after everything he'd done for her.

She reached another crossroads. Was it left or right? Panic filled her as she realized she couldn't remember. What was she doing? Had she gotten lost? Had this just been a foolish plan, or was there any chance she could actually save them?

What was waiting in the dungeons, even if she did make it? Eoin, she hoped. And Breana? No, her sister would not be there; Breana would be a prisoner of a different type, trapped with Kyle in the main castle in a gilded cage. Maeve knew that kind of prison well. It was one where she'd spent her whole life until the rebel cause had set her free.

"I'm comin'," she whispered, both for her sister and for Eoin. She needed to think. She couldn't let either of them down.

She was all too aware of the battle going on not far from her. Part of her ached to return and fight by Cailean's side. She was anxious about the tiny force's chances against a whole ambush, but she knew she couldn't focus on that now. The prisons weren't empty, and maybe there would be someone there to help. Certainly, Eoin was a skilled fighter; surely he'd be able to help their cause?

Left or right? Maeve knew that if she made the wrong choice, she was dooming not only Eoin, but Breana, Cailean, Fergus and the others, and maybe even herself. The pressure weighed down upon her, threatening to suffocate her, and the panic built so high it felt like she couldn't breathe. She was so afraid. Even now, after everything, she was afraid. What did that make her? Was she not strong enough for this? Had she failed? What if her fear left her paralyzed, and by the time she made a decision, it was too late?

Then she heard a voice in her ear, whispering from her memory. Senan's voice, echoing back from their early training, what felt like so long ago, even though it had only been a few short months. " A smart person is always a wee bit afraid. It's what gives us the power tae overcome."

Maeve stood up a little taller. Yes, she was afraid, but she would not let that fear and anxiety overwhelm her. Instead, she would do what Senan taught her — and what Cailean taught her. She'd take her weakness and she'd turn it into an advantage.

Searching back in her memory, she tried to remember that night. She turned around to face the passageway where she'd just come from, visualizing running into it instead of away from it. And there it was, clear as day, Eoin leading her from the passage from the left and toward freedom. She had barely noted it at the time, but now it was there in her memory, as though it had just been waiting for her to revisit it.

Letting out a shaky breath, Maeve turned back to the passages and chose the one she remembered, hoping that she was doing the right thing. She wondered who would be guarding the prison now that Rod and Brian were dead, and was surprised to find she felt nothing but a grim satisfaction at that knowledge. She had expected guilt to rush through her as it had done when she'd first killed the soldiers, but Cailean's words about how a warrior had to do what needed to be done were dancing in her mind.

Yes. And she would do what needed to be done now, whatever it took. She hurried along the corridor and toward where she hoped she would find the prison, hoping against hope that there was nobody waiting there to ambush her too. Her hands fingered the pommel of the sword that Cailean had gifted her, the sword he'd given her to protect herself and the people who needed them, and she felt reassured.

"I'm comin'," she said again, but this time it wasn't just a reassurance. This time, she was talking to Kyle Darach and everyone else of his ilk. This time, it was a warning.