Page 3 of The Lost Highland Prince (The Last Celtic King #1)

2

Chapter Two

Maeve wasn't sure how many hours had passed. It had grown quiet, the guards off somewhere nearby but not directly outside anymore, and for quite some time the only sound had been the persistent drip, drip, drip of some leftover water from the last rain as it worked its way through the stones into the floor of her cell. May showers weren't uncommon, but Maeve was surprised how much she shivered in the cold here in the dungeon. She wondered if it was just a cold season or if this dungeon was just designed to be as cold without as she now felt within.

The door to the cell creaked open, and at first, Maeve wasn't even planning on looking up. However, when a soft voice said her name, her head quirked upright to see Ann, her maid and friend, standing before her.

Ann put down the tray she was holding and hurried over. To Maeve's shock, she took out a small key and undid her manacles. "Ye poor thing," Ann said quietly. "Och, ye poor thing. I cannae believe they've left ye like this."

Maeve rubbed at her sore wrists, staring at Ann. "Ye let me free."

"From yer manacles, nae the cell. I managed tae sweet talk that idiot, Rod, intae allowin' that at least," Ann said contemptuously. She was very outspoken for a woman servant, which many would have found to her detriment, but Maeve had considerably enjoyed it during her time here. Ann's spirited back-and-forth had been one of the few reasons that Maeve had been able to enjoy anything during the sham that had been her marriage. "Och, Maeve, I'm sorry it's come tae this. I had hoped… well, it doesnae matter now."

Maeve didn't understand what was going on. She was just grateful to have her arms free, though they ached from being held in the same position for so long. She couldn't understand what Ann was implying, or even how the maid could be here right now. Perhaps she was delusional. Perhaps she'd already been sent to her grave and didn't even know it. "Ann, how are ye here?"

Ann smiled lightly, though there was a spark of something in her eyes. "I brought ye food. They werenae goin' tae let me, of course, until I told them ye were havin' yer woman's troubles. I asked if perhaps they, the men, wanted tae deal with it themselves, but suddenly, they were more than accomodatin' about me bein' the one tae aid ye."

It seemed silly, given the circumstances, to be embarrassed by such a thing, but Maeve found herself blanching anyway. How… how crude, and yet how genius of Ann to think of it! Womanhood truly was the greatest fear of weak men like those guards, even though women were the thing they desired most. How strange it all was.

Ann's smile was more genuine this time. "Dinnae be embarrassed. Now, ye must listen quickly. There's much tae tell ye, and I have nae time. Firstly, we're goin' tae get ye out of here, I promise."

"What?"

Ann gently put a hand on her shoulder. "We ken ye didnae kill him. We ken that ye dinnae understand what's goin' on — that's the point, unfortunately. Ye're a victim in all of this, but we're nae gonnae let ye suffer like this forever."

Doubt filled Maeve at that. Getting the manacle key and sneaking her way into the room was one thing, but she doubted that Ann would be able to help her escape a death sentence, no matter how wily the maid might be. "Who is we ? What are ye talkin' about?"

"Ye've got a lot of questions. I ken. I have answers, but not enough tae satisfy ye for the moment, I'm afraid. I ken, I ken, ye dinnae understand, but ye will. Ye just have tae be strong and wait a wee bit longer. Tell me ye can do that." Ann's voice had grown low and urgent, and she stared Maeve straight in her eyes as she spoke. "Tell me ye can manage tae wait."

"Wait for what?" Maeve demanded, a little frustrated now. "I dinnae understand. Ye cannae just leave me without anythin'. How do ye ken that I'm innocent? How can ye possibly help me escape?"

Ann sighed. "We ken ye're innocent because we ken who killed Malcolm. Ye're nae murderer, and the real killer is right here in the castle, restin' back on his laurels, sure that ye're gonnae take the punishment for his crime. It's?—"

"What are ye doin' in there, woman?" barked the sudden loud demand of either Rod or Brian. "We told ye that ye can leave the food and deal with her issue, then leave. Dinnae try tae pull one over on us."

Rolling her eyes in frustration, Ann said, "Maeve, I'm sorry, I've nae time to explain anythin' just now. I just need ye tae trust me. Can ye do that?"

Maeve didn't know. She'd almost forgotten how to trust, if she'd ever known at all. Her older sister had ever been the only one she could believe in; her mother had been distant and cold, her father cruel. Nessa, the youngest, had followed in their parents' footsteps. Maeve had had friends as a child, of course, who had been her solace, but nobody whom she could fully trust her own life to. Even Breana, whom she adored, needed protection more than she could be the protector, even though Maeve was younger.

But Ann had been here for her since she arrived, and, more pertinently, Ann was the only friendly face here when the alternative was nothing but the end. Though her prospects were bleak and she had nowhere to go, Maeve wanted to live.

"I trust ye," she said, and in that moment, she meant it with all of her heart.

"Then wait," Ann told her. She touched Maeve's cheek as she got to her feet. "Be strong, and wait, and I'll be back for ye. I swear it."

Rod shouted again, and Ann gave Maeve one last swift smile before she turned and left. Maeve did not cry or shout for her to return. Instead, she allowed the hope to flood her, allowed herself to believe that the world was giving her another chance. She held her head high, and gave herself to trust.

Maybe, just maybe, she could get out of this alive. And who knew what would come next?

* * *

The stone floor was cold and a little damp, but it was comfortable enough for a bed when Maeve had nowhere else to rest her weary head. However, she felt that she'd only given into sleep for a few moments when a rough shake at her shoulders woke her from her slumber.

Her eyes flew open, and she opened her mouth to cry out in alarm, but a strong hand covered it, and a voice whispered, "Shhh . "

The sleep faded from Maeve's eyes and she adjusted to the candlelight. There, standing over her, was Eoin Darach, the son of the chieftain's advisor. Or perhaps he was the son of the chieftain himself, now that Malcolm was dead. That was a strange thought.

He was a tall man, his hair a dark auburn and his owlish eyes a deep blue. His freckled face was pale in the candlelight, and his smile, warm and kind and welcoming, was enough that it made her heart leap. Eoin had always been handsome in his own way, though there had never been any attraction between the pair of them. Since Maeve had gotten to the castle, other than Ann, Eoin had been the only person who had made her feel like a human being. He'd been kind to her, though too distant to be considered a true friend. She'd always had the feeling that he'd hung back over fear that the Chieftain, her late husband, would misunderstand his interest. It was a fair assumption, she supposed.

"I'm goin' tae move me hand now," Eoin said quietly. "Keep yer voice low, aye?"

Maeve nodded mutely, and Eoin moved his hand from her mouth. When she was free to speak, she said, "Why are ye here?"

A flicker of a grin crossed Eoin's face at that. "Straight tae the point as always," he said quietly. "Nae wonder Malcolm couldnae handle ye."

"I dinnae…"

"We dinnae have much time," Eoin interrupted. "But ye must trust me. Ann and I are workin' together, all right? Is that enough?"

It wasn't, not nearly, but Maeve nodded. She accepted the hand that Eoin offered her, and he pulled her to her feet. Together, the two of them left the cell, and Maeve winced at the sound of the heavy door closing behind her. Surely someone had heard that?

"Come on," Eoin said, not slowing down. He still held her hand, a reassuring brotherly grip that made her feel stronger. "We cannae stop, not for anythin'."

Maeve thought of some of the little things she was leaving behind — little trinkets she'd collected over the years — and felt a certain sadness. Even though she was going to live, she was leaving part of herself behind, or maybe all of herself. She wasn't materialistic, but to go out into the world with nothing at all was daunting, to say the least.

Still, she forged forward. She would not let anything keep her back.

Eoin led her into a hidden tunnel she'd never even known existed. They walked forward, turning abruptly every so often, and soon enough Maeve began to feel like she was in a maze. She held tight to Eoin's hand, knowing that if she let go now, she wouldn't be able to find her way back into the prison if she wanted to.

"Please," Maeve said after a moment. "Please, ye must tell me what's happenin'."

Eoin looked back over his shoulder at her, but he didn't stop walking for a second. "We're in a hurry," he told her. "But the short version of the story is that I couldnae let ye die for a crime I kent ye didnae commit. I'm about tae be named captain of the guard for me father, and nae doubt he'd have had me carry out yer execution. I couldnae, wouldnae be the one tae do that. I couldnae let ye die at all, not when ye're innocent."

"But why do ye care?" Maeve demanded. She was speaking a bit more loudly now, sure that they were far out of earshot of the guards, wherever they were in this strange maze. "Ye never expressed any friendship tae me in all these years beyond a wee bit of kindness."

"Ye think Malcolm would have welcomed a young man around his bride, do ye? If we'd have been seen in public together, there'd have been a scandal. But I cared about ye from afar, Maeve. I did what I could tae make sure ye were safe and comfortable despite everythin'. Ye remind me of… well, it doesnae matter now." Eoin sighed. "Just… ye must trust me."

"Whom do I remind ye of?" Maeve pressed. Suddenly, it seemed very important.

"Me sister. She died many years ago," Eoin said shortly. "Ye look a bit like her. That chestnut hair of yers, though her eyes were blue like mine rather than green like yers. I couldnae protect her, and so I've been protectin' ye."

Maeve didn't know how to feel about that, but it warmed her heart anyway. She believed him. She wasn't used to having family taking care of her, and though it wasn't quite the same thing, in a strange, unspoken way, she and Eoin had been that to each other for some time without her even knowing. She wondered how many times he'd saved her in little ways since the day she was married, and if she could ever repay him now that he was saving her in the ultimate way.

"I'm sorry about yer sister," she said after a moment. "And thank ye."

Eoin said, "Dinnae thank me yet."

A sudden cold blast of air told Maeve that the next tunnel they'd turn into led to the outside, and sure enough, a moment later, they stepped out into the night air. A small figure stood there holding a hooded lantern — Ann, who wrapped a cloak around Maeve's shoulders quickly. "Ye didnae face any trouble, did ye?" she asked.

Eoin let go of Maeve's hand at last and shook his head. "It was quiet. The wine worked; those useless guards are fast asleep and me father doesnae suspect a thing. I'd better get back before things get rowdy, though. They'll notice soon enough."

Maeve found it so strange the way that Ann and Eoin were talking to each other — like two people who knew each other well, not a rich man and a maid — but before she could even ask, Eoin turned to her.

"This is as far as I can take ye," he said. "Stick with Ann. She'll get ye somewhere safe."

Maeve impulsively threw her arms around him in a hug, and a moment later, he hugged her back. "Thank ye for savin' me," she whispered in his ear. "I'll never forget ye. I cannae believe it's over."

"Nothin's over," Eoin said. "It's only just beginnin'. Be safe, Maeve."

He kissed her cheek and turned to go back inside, but she called him back one more time. "Eoin?"

"Aye?"

"What was yer sister's name?" she asked.

Eoin blinked in surprise, then gave her a searching look before replying, "Her name was Mary. She'd have liked ye."

Then he was gone, vanished into the tunnels, maybe forever.

Ann touched Maeve's arm. "Come. We cannae wait much longer; we have tae get goin' before anyone notices ye're gone. I'll explain on the way."

* * *

Two small mares awaited them not far away, and the two of them were mounted and riding away from Darach Castle before Maeve even fully understood what was happening. They rode in silence for a little while at top speed, and only when the castle and the surrounding population was far out of sight did Ann signal that they could slow down a little.

Now, they rode side by side through the night, Ann controlling the direction, and at last, Maeve could ask. "Well?"

Ann took a moment before she answered. "Ye may have guessed this, Maeve, but I'm more than just a maid.

Laughing a little in an incredulous way, Maeve said, "I'd figured that part out for meself. Who are ye, then? Why are ye workin' at the castle, and what's yer interest in me?"

"Me interest in ye is that I like ye," Ann said simply. "Ye're a nice lass and a good friend. As for why I'm in the castle, it's a little more complicated."

Maeve waited, not speaking. Their mares paused to drink from a river, and only after they started to move again did Ann continue.

"I'm part of a network. We're kent as the White Sparrows," Ann explained. "Our leader… well, ye'll find out about her in due time, I guess. Morag's story is not mine tae tell. But we're undercover operatives, most but not all of us women, and we have one main purpose in our lives."

"And that is?"

There was fire and conviction in Ann's voice as she said, "Tae overthrow the False King. That's why I was in Darach Castle. Everyone kens that Malcolm and his ilk are traitors and loyalists tae that… that… man who dares sit upon our throne. I was there tae gather information tae eventually overthrow that terrible man."

Maeve's mind was racing. "So…did ye do it, then?"

"Kill him?" Ann asked. "No, I didnae, and none of me people did either. We are spies and rebels; we only kill if we have tae, and never in so cowardly a way as tae slit a man's throat while he sleeps."

Quietly, Maeve asked, "Have ye killed before?"

Ann didn't answer. Instead, she said, "We do what we must. Dinnae ye wonder, though, about who really killed Malcolm Darach?"

"I dinnae understand who could have," Maeve said slowly. "In his own bed, as ye say, well, I suspected a lover, but…"

"Ye suspected correctly. His lover killed him in order tae take power." Ann replied. She eyed Maeve. "Kyle Darach, Eoin's father, is the one who murdered yer husband and framed ye for it. It's one of the reasons Eoin kent he needed tae act quickly."

Shock flooded Maeve. "Kyle did it?" she asked. Like the other Darachs, Kyle was a cruel man, so it wasn't so surprising, but… "And the two were…?"

"Does that shock ye?" Ann asked.

Maeve thought about it. "I suppose… I suppose I suspected as much about Malcolm," she admitted. "But Kyle…"

"Kyle is an opportunist," Ann said darkly. "Malcolm was a cruel chieftain, but Kyle will be significantly worse. He's an evil man who'll take advantage of anyone if it serves his purposes, and I worry that things will only grow darker with him in charge."

Maeve had known one more man who had preferred the company of other men, a gentle cook in her father's home. He'd been so nice and kind that everyone pretended not to know his open secret, but it seemed that, just like everything else, there was good and evil on all sides. "I see," she said quietly. "I suppose the world is much wider than I'd ever known."

"And now maybe ye'll get tae experience it. Ye've always deserved tae do so," Ann told her. "Ye can do anythin' ye want. I'm gonnae take ye somewhere safe, but it's up tae ye where that is."

Maeve swallowed. "What are me choices?" she asked.

"Ye can join me and return tae our base. Ye can become a Sparrow," Ann told her. "Or I can take ye somewhere else so ye can live life however ye want tae. It's up tae ye. What do ye want to do?"

It was the first time in her life that Maeve had ever been asked that question. Now all she had to do was find the answer.