Page 7 of The Lost Highland Prince (The Last Celtic King #1)

6

Chapter Six

The little village was too small and poor to even have a name, and so the locals had taken to calling it Broken Windmill, after the destroyed structure that had once been the village's source of income. It had been abandoned and decrepit for as long as anyone could remember.

"I dinnae like that we're here," Cailean said for the thousandth time as he and Darren sat down together to eat that night in the little hut they'd set up just outside the village. "I dinnae like that we're imposin' on these people."

"We're hardly imposin'," Darren retorted, pointing idly with his knife toward Cailean. The bean pierced at the end of it threatened to fall off, but held in place. "They all but begged us tae set up camp here. The people of Broken Windmill are loyal tae the cause, and that's why we're here."

The cause. Cailean believed in protecting their freedom with all his heart, but he had to admit that it worried him to think about what these people really expected from him. He was glad that so few people knew his true identity, because he was sure that if they knew he was the lost prince, they'd be dreadfully disappointed. Most of the people in the rebellion believed his name was Cailean McManus. There were rumors that he was the bastard son of one of the four councilmen, and that was why they were all so close. They knew he was someone of importance, he was sure, but they associated it with his close connection with the council members rather than any claim of his blood. Nobody dared confront the council to get to the truth, and Cailean was happy to perpetuate the rumors.

But never mind all of that. Regardless of who would become king, they all agreed that they needed to be rid of the pretender who was now on the throne. The loyalty and generosity of the Broken Windmill villagers, as well as those in the camp, was overwhelming. The village was so small and poor that they struggled with day to day life, but they were still willing to offer everything they had to help the cause. Cailean was extremely grateful, but he also couldn't help but feel guilty. How could they accept things that were offered from people who had so little?

"I ken that expression," Darren told him. He swallowed his bite of food and said, as pragmatically as ever, "What use is guilt?"

"I dinnae feel guilt because of its use ," Cailean countered.

Darren snorted. "Clearly. But ye're nae thinkin' logically either. The people in the village want tae help us. They want tae be part of what we're doin' here, and it would be more condescendin' and insultin' tae refuse their help than it would be tae accept it. The whole company is sufferin' under the False King and English control. This is the only way we have tae help them."

Cailean knew that Darren was right, at least partly, but there was more depth to this than that. He opened his mouth to argue, but then they were interrupted by a knock at the door of the hut.

"Come in," he said, giving Darren a look that said that the conversation was not yet over.

It was Ferda, the same scout who had announced the news of Darach's death months before. She had a huge smile on her face and Cailean realized that for once they might be about to get some good news.

"What word, Cousin?" Darren asked her. Unable to resist teasing, he added, "Are ye finally gettin' wed?"

"I will before any woman looks at ye," Ferda shot back. Then she blushed and said, "Sorry, Cailean. Ye ken what he's like."

Cailean snorted. "I do ken. What's the news?"

"Senan is back," Ferda told him, the excitement in her voice palpable. "And he's got a lassie with him."

Joy filled Cailean at those words — joy and relief. He loved Senan like a father, just like the other council members, and these long months without seeing him had been stressful. Without any word for so long, Cailean had been beginning to worry that something had happened to the older man, so his heart lifted to hear that he was back.

"A lassie?" Darren asked. "Has the old man taken a wife, then? Even he's paired up before ye, Ferda."

"Enough teasin'," Cailean said as Ferda warmed up her retort. "Come. Let's go greet our friend and see what news he's brought us."

* * *

Cailean, Darren, and Ferda arrived after most of the camp had already gathered in curiosity around Senan and his new guest. The older man stood in the middle of a circle of inquiring minds, and behind him, still on her horse, sat a girl.

Girl. That was a word that did not properly do the sight before Cailean justice. She was one of the most beautiful women that Cailean had ever seen, even though she had a split lip and her chestnut-colored hair was mussed and messy from no doubt weeks of traveling. Seeing those wide eyes, full lips, and general bonny appearance, Cailean had no doubt that many men would have been enchanted at first sight just at this woman's mere presence. Certainly, looking around, many of the other men were staring.

But all Cailean could think was how small she was, and why Senan had brought her here. They already had too many mouths to feed.

"Were ye nae supposed tae be recruitin', Senan?" one of the men called out. "Have ye brought back a wife? Or a long-lost daughter, maybe?"

"That's never his daughter," Hamish joked, moving forward to embrace his friend. "This ugly bastard could never have produced such a lovely lass."

The rude joke got many laughs from the crowd, and the curiosity was thick in the air. Cailean pushed his way through the crowd to the front, stopping only when Senan was right in front of him. He moved forward and embraced Senan too, then pulled away.

"We were worried," he said as the camp fell quiet behind him. "Welcome home, old friend."

"Och, ye dinnae need tae worry about an old soldier like me," Senan told him. "How are ye, lad? I heard tell from the last village ye took charge well when ye had tae evacuate. Ye did well."

"He was amazin'!" Darren said, also moving forward to greet Senan. "Even me dad said so, and ye ken how rare it is for me father tae actively praise anyone."

Senan chuckled. "Kier?" he asked, calling out into the crowd. "Is this true?"

Kier's gruff voice spoke up, though Cailean could not see him from this angle. "Cailean impressed me, I'll admit it. Most of the men and women amongst us did."

"Speakin' of women," Fergus spoke up, surprising everyone by the fact that his voice rose above the others, "Have ye brought us another spy? Shall we send her tae Morag and the lassies in the Sparrows?"

"With those delicate hands?" someone called. "That's nae spy. A seamstress, maybe. A camp cook."

"A bedwarmer," someone jeered.

Cailean spun around, anger surging through him. "Who said that?" he demanded.

Nobody spoke.

Scowling, Cailean said, "I thought ye better men than this. Whoever spoke will step forward now, if he's man enough tae admit his sins.”

For a moment, nobody moved, then a sheepish-looking Bruce cousin — Cailean could not remember his name off the top of his head, but the lad was only sixteen or seventeen at most — stepped forward.

"It was only a joke, sir," the lad said.

Darren reached back and smacked his cousin across the head. "Ye're an eejit, Dirk," he said. "Apologize tae the lady."

"I'm sorry," young Dirk said, his face turning red. "I didnae mean anythin' by it, I?—"

"Enough. We're meant tae be better than the English and the men we fight against," Cailean said, his tone severe. "Dirk, ye've apologized, and if the lady accepts, it's done. But if I hear another such comment from any of ye about this lass or any of the women in our camp or in the village, yer punishment will be much harsher. Understood?"

A chorus of "aye, sir!" sounded around him, and Cailean noticed Senan and Hamish exchange meaningful glances. He hadn't meant to take charge like that, and he was surprised by how good it felt to be obeyed. Feeling confused but hiding it, he turned to the lady on the horse and said, "Do ye accept his apology, me lady?"

"A Lady I am nae, and I dinnae need his apology," the woman declared. Her accent gave her away as someone of higher breeding, but there was a strong determination to her voice that caused everyone to fall quiet. She slid down off her horse and moved to stand next to Senan, fire blazing in her eyes. "Thank ye for standin' up for me, but I didnae need that either."

Her passion was unmistakable, but now that she stood before him, Cailean's doubts grew. She was small and slight, obviously bruised and exhausted by the bags under her eyes, and they didn't have time to support her. Perhaps she was here to seek refuge in the village, but given the way she was speaking, he doubted it.

"What do ye need, then?" he asked her, folding his arms.

"Mary is here tae train," Senan said when the girl didn't answer. "She's been workin' with me for weeks, and now she's ready tae join the rebellion."

"Look at her," Darren said doubtfully, expressing in his voice what Cailean was thinking in his heart. "Forgive me, lass, I'm sure yer heart and passion are strong, but would ye nae be more comfortable helpin' out in some other way? Ye dinnae seem the type tae fight, and our camp is always in need of healers or?—"

"I'm nae healer," Mary interrupted. "Nor cook nor seamstress nor even a spy. I'm someone who's seen the injustice in this world around me and lived through much of it too, and I'm tired of it. When Senan offered me this chance tae fight against it, I kent I had to take it. I'm here tae bleed and fight and die if necessary, tae be the warrior for justice and for me country that I was always meant tae be. Woman or not."

Muttering ran through the crowd at these words and it was clear to Cailean at least that her speech had impressed some people. Certainly, the genuineness and spirit in her was appealing, but it left a bad feeling in his gut nonetheless. It wasn't that he was against having women in the rebellion — certainly, many of them cut fine figures and could rival many of the men. But this one gave him a feeling he didn't understand. She was so small and slight and he worried that if he went along with this, he'd have only her death on his conscience.

He could feel everyone's eyes on him and he knew that they were all expecting him, as the unofficial trainer of the people here in the rebel camp, to make the final decision on whether this Mary could stay or not. If Senan had brought her, then really there should be no question: Senan, not Cailean, was one of the council, and so Senan's decision should be sacrosanct. But Cailean knew that if he objected, Senan would agree.

Should he? They could house the girl with someone in the village for a while until they found something else to do with her. Maybe they could contact Morag and her White Sparrows and see if they could take this girl in.

He met Mary's eyes. She was watching him, unblinking, determination on her lips and blaring in her expression. She was not interested in arguing with him, he realized, nor would she be willing to compromise.

"I'm here tae fight," she said again as if she'd read his mind. "Will ye teach me?"

Cailean met Senan's eyes then sighed. The old man was watching him with unabashed curiosity. So be it then.

"Ye can stay," he said, turning back to Mary. "And we will teach ye. But I warn ye, we willnae go easy."

Senan laughed. "Ye think I've been goin' easy on her, Cailean?" he asked.

Privately, Cailean suspected so. Senan was an amazing mentor, strong and tough, but he was also kind at heart. He imagined that the trainer had pulled his punches with this lovely young woman. But Cailean needed Mary to understand that it wouldn't be like that here.

"If ye cannae manage, ye'll leave," he said. He truly believed that she would give up before sundown the next day. "But ye can stay for now, if ye can follow orders."

Mary grimaced. "I can follow orders," she said. "But will ye train me tae fight, or will ye try tae make me somethin' else? I ken ye dinnae want tae train a woman?—"

"I never said that."

"—but I swear, I'll fight just as well as any of ye, woman or not. I have just as much right tae fight for what I believe in as ye do, or as any of these men." Mary tilted her head. "So? What do ye say?"

Cailean sighed. "First thing in the mornin', then. Ferda, find her a bed with the women."

Then, before anyone could say anything else to him, he turned and headed back toward his meal. His reluctance notwithstanding, it was likely she wouldn't be here for long anyway. He'd see how far she'd manage before she gave up.

So many gave up, in the end.

* * *

That night, Cailean had a dream — a footstep into a memory he'd never revisited for twenty years.

Three weeks had passed since Morag had helped him escape from his family home, and she'd brought him to a camp somewhere he did not recognize. His eyes were dry now; he'd cried all the tears he had remaining within him, and now there was nothing left. Morag brought him before two men who seemed to be waiting for him.

"Is this the lad?" asked a tall, strong man in his mid-thirties. "The prince?"

Cailean flinched. He didn't want to be a prince anymore. He knew that if he hadn't been a prince, his family would still be alive. His home would still be standing. "I'm just Cailean," he said quietly. "That's all."

"Just Cailean, eh?" the other man asked. He was the same age as the first, or maybe a little older, with a grizzled, hardened expression on his face and tree-sap blond hair that was starting to turn gray. "Welcome, Cailean. I'm Kier, and this is Senan. Ye're gonnae be stayin' with us from now on."

Cailean turned to Morag. He'd known that she was going to leave, she'd warned him, but he felt very nervous now that this moment had come. "Do ye have tae leave me here?" he asked her. "Can I nae come with ye and do what ye're doin'?"

Morag hesitated, then leaned down to kiss his cheek. "I'll stay with ye for a few days, love, until ye settle in. But then we've both got jobs to do, me wee darlin', and destinies tae fulfil."

"I dinnae want a destiny," Cailean protested.

Senan moved forward and knelt down before him on one knee. "Ye've got one anyway, lad," he said. "But dinnae worry. We'll help ye through it until ye're ready."

Cailean didn't know what to say. He didn't understand what was going on, but he felt a strange sense of safety when he looked into Senan's coal-black eyes. This man was going to look after him, he was sure of it. He glanced up at the other man, Kier, and was surprised to see kindness looking back at him.

"Me own son's about yer age," Kier told him. "His name's Darren. And me nephew and a few of me nieces are close as well. Ye'll have lots of friends here. A family, if ye want it."

"I had a family," Cailean said. "But they're gone now."

The dream shifted.

It was a week later, and Morag was riding away from the camp while Cailean sat on the top of the roof of their base, watching her go. He was crying a little, but that was all right. Nobody could see him.

But then someone clambered up to join him. Cailean jumped in surprise and nearly fell, but managed to steady himself as Darren, his new friend, came to sit by him.

"Dinnae be upset. Ye'll see her again," Darren told him. "Maybe it'll take some time, but ye will."

"I might not," Cailean said sadly. "I'll never see me mammy or daddy or me brothers or sisters again. Maybe Morag will be the same way. It seems tae me that everyone leaves eventually."

Darren frowned. "I'll never see me mammy again either. Da said it's because we couldnae keep her safe. Our home as well. I wasnae supposed tae hear him, but I did."

"How are we supposed tae keep people safe, then?" Cailean asked.

Darren shrugged. "I dinnae ken. But maybe ye and I can stick together? And then we'll do anythin' we can tae keep everyone safe so naebody has tae leave us ever again."

Cailean started awake, feeling a stinging in his eyes. He wasn't sure what time it was, but his body was heavy, and he could tell it was still the middle of the night. Darren slept heavily in the other bed, and the sound of his breathing was enough to bring Cailean back to the present.

He still remembered that promise he'd made to Darren to keep everyone safe. He knew it was a childish promise, but his heart still held it close. They'd lost men and women over the years, and he knew they'd lose more, but he was determined not to allow it unless it was necessary.

And so this girl, Mary. If she wanted training, he'd give it. He'd exhaust her until she gave up and let them find her somewhere else to go. Then there would be no fear of having to protect her.