Page 17 of The Rise of the Highland King (The Last Celtic King #1)

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Cailean hated the fact that he was running away, even though he knew that a tactical retreat was the best move to make. He knew that Maeve was right, that he needed to save his life and Darren's and the rest in order to make everything they'd gone through worth it. But he knew that there were people fighting for them, and he hated leaving as the False King sent even more enemies against them. Murtagh McKenzie was still alive and now, thanks to his decisions, so was James O'Sullivan. He didn't regret his choice, but he couldn't help feeling like he was running away.

The horses trotted slowly along the winding path away from the O'Sullivan lands. Maeve, Breana, Darren, Eoin, and Cailean himself all rode in silence, each lost in their own thoughts, but Cailean did not know how to break that silence. He was brooding on the mistakes he'd made up until this point, and how much work he had to do to earn the loyalty those men had shown by taking up arms for him. They might have accepted that he was a king, but he still had a long way to go.

Breana and Eoin were riding ahead of the others, talking in low voices to one another. Cailean did break his dark thoughts for a moment to smile as he noticed how close together their horses were, and hoped he was right in suspecting they had found each other just as he had found Maeve. The rebellion and the world needed more happiness, and he could not imagine two people more worthy of one another. He flinched a little, remembering he had slain Eoin's father and spared Breana's, and wondered at what a huge difference even a single choice could make. He hoped that it wasn't one he would live to regret.

Though, for now, they were probably talking about Nessa. Maeve had expressed that she wanted to go back for her sister, but Breana had rightfully persuaded her that there was no time to search for the girl who had disappeared into the crowd. Cailean knew that he would have to have a long conversation with Maeve about this, and perhaps one day be back here, but for now, he had to keep riding on.

It hurt to retreat when there were so many threads loose, so much left undone, so many questions unanswered. No matter how much Cailean knew he was doing the right thing, he couldn't help but think of those he was leaving behind.

"Cailean?" Maeve's voice was quiet as she rode up next to him, barely audible over the cloud of thoughts in his mind. "Cailean, look."

He blinked and turned to look at her. "Sorry. I'm here." He turned his head and smiled at her faintly. "Forgive me, love. I'm just tired."

"Nay, me heart. Look. "

She gestured behind them, and Cailean slowed his horse, turning his head to look over his shoulder. What he saw made him freeze in the saddle, scarcely able to comprehend the might of the sight in front of his very eyes.

Darren grinned and waved at him, looking as joyful as ever, but it wasn't Darren who had caused Maeve to gesture back. As Cailean looked beyond his friend, his brother in all but name, he saw something he had never expected to see. There were dozens — hundreds —of men following them, marching with pride and determination behind the horses, forming an honor guard.

Some of them were farmers and villagers. Others were bannermen, warriors, and even lairds and clan chiefs, carrying their colors high. Members of clans from all over the Highlands, chiefs and clansmen Cailean had been desperately trying to reach for months or even years, now following behind him, declaring themselves silently for the rebellion, for the McNair name.

As he continued to look, he noticed that there were even more people there than he had thought. Not just the men, but women, children, people from all walks of life, each of them marching steadily behind him. Each of them dedicating themselves to the country that Cailean loved so much.

"They're here for ye," Maeve told him. "Ye called them, and they've come."

"Nay," Cailean replied. "They're here for us ."

He didn't remember ever feeling this overwhelmed by emotion, except perhaps when he had realized that Maeve loved him back. His soul felt light, his heart swelling in his chest, and a few tears of joy even pricked at his eyes. He had called them, and they had come, just as Maeve said. What would his father say, if he could see these people now? His mother? If his siblings had lived, would they be proud?

He whispered a silent prayer to them now, hoping they could hear it on the wind. He hoped that he was making all of them proud.

Darren rode up beside them. "Well, yer Majesty?" he asked, obviously teasing, but with an undercurrent of respect to his tone too.

"Formality sounds strange on yer lips," Cailean replied, his voice a little hoarse from the shock of the followers, even as he bantered with his friend. "What are ye askin'?"

"Fine, I'll call ye the Royal Bampot, if it helps," Darren told him with a chuckle, developing into a full-blown laugh as Cailean rolled his eyes. It was good to see Darren so light, a levity in this heavy moment that really shone with the power of joy that these followers were bringing. "But me question is this—what's next?"

Cailean smiled. "What's next?" He glanced back at the people behind him, then at his side to Maeve, then forward to the new, gentle love blossoming in front of him. To his people. His family. "Next, we take back our country, Darren. Next, we repair our home, once and for all."

They set up camp in a large field once they were far enough from O'Sullivan lands, makeshift tents and bedrolls shared out between the hundreds of new rebels who had rallied to the cause. Campfires cheerfully shone, the scents of delicious food and the sounds of laughter echoing into the night sky. Cailean and Maeve set up their bedrolls a little further away from everyone else, sheltered behind some trees for a little privacy, taking the chance to spend some time together after the terrifying ordeal of being apart.

"How are ye?" he asked her once he was sure they were as alone as they could be.

She sighed, laying her head against his chest as he wrapped her arms around her. They both stayed there like that for a moment, just staring up at the shining stars in the sky. Then Maeve replied, sounding thoughtful.

"I'm…feelin' strange, if I'm honest. Me heart is full from seein' all the support we have for the rebellion, but there's sorrow there too. I'm frustrated that I couldnae reach Nessa in time, and I'm worried that it might have been too late for her even if I had."

Cailean stayed silent, waiting for her to continue. He could sense that she had many things that she needed to say, and the sound of her voice was a balm on his frazzled soul. He could listen to her for the rest of his life if he needed to, and always be happy.

She shifted a little, getting more comfortable in his arms. "I am fearful that me father still lives, and yet grateful ye were nae the one tae slay him, nae matter how much he might have deserved it. I'm worried how the rebellion is gonnae manage this renewed attack, yet inspired by the support we now have. But most of all—och, it's silly. Ye'll think me selfish when I tell ye."

"Ye? Selfish?" Cailean stroked her hair. "Love, ye're many things. Stubborn. Tough. Frustratin' at times. But never, never selfish. Say how ye feel, and I'll listen."

Maeve turned her head up to look at him. "Honestly? More than anythin', I'm feelin' more relieved than I have in me whole life. I've never felt fear or pain as I did when ye were away from me, kennin' ye were captured, kennin' I might never see ye again. For a short time, I didnae ken how I would ever live without ye by me side."

He leaned down and kissed her hair. "Ye would have survived. Ye would have thrived. Darren told me how ye stood by him in leadership when ye needed tae. I couldnae be prouder than tae call ye me love, me heart, me queen. Thank ye for comin' for me."

"I'll always come for ye," she told him. "Always." She sniffled, and he realized she was crying, all of the emotion she'd been holding in all this time finally coming loose in this private moment between them. It wasn't the weepy tears of someone who was broken, but the tears of a strong woman who was unafraid to allow herself to feel.

"I've never felt safer than I do at this moment," he replied. "Here's the deal. I'll always protect ye, Maeve—and I'll always ken ye'll protect me. Ye’re the light in me darkness, me love. Ye took a lost prince, and ye made him a king. I swear, nae matter what happens, I'll never leave yer side, nae matter how much distance may be forced between us."

She moved out of his embrace to lean up for a gentle kiss, then snuggled back into his chest. "Hold me tonight," she told him. "I ken we cannae be truly alone until we reach home, but for now, just hold me. Remind me ye're here with me always."

They lay down together, holding each other close. "There's naewhere I'd rather be," he murmured into her hair. "I'm yers."

Returning to Bruce Castle was one of the most inspiring and enlightening moments of Maeve's life. The looks of shock and awe on the rebel's faces as their leader rode in with so many banners raised in the McNair name would remain with her in her spirit forever. Fergus was one of the first to ride out to meet them, having safely escorted the others back from Taran's farm, and to everyone's surprise he embraced Maeve in front of everyone.

"Ye wonderful lass. Ye brought them back," Fergus said, his usually stoic nature broken in his excitement.

Maeve laughed and hugged him back, then was lost in a pile as more arms were around her. A cheer went up as more and more of the rebels spilled out of the castle, eager to welcome home their friends and welcome the newest members of the rebellion.

Breana and Eoin went off to help the newcomers settle, many of whom were refugees who would need a lot of help, while Darren went to debrief Fergus and the others on what had happened. Maeve and Cailean, meanwhile, went straight to the council, ready to share every detail of the events that had occurred over a short period of time that had felt like a lifetime.

Kier, Senan, Ewan, and Hamish listened carefully to their recounting of events, both Cailean and Maeve equally enraptured as the others filled in the gaps that they had not known. Maeve felt a fierce pride in Cailean as he told the story of his imprisonment in McKenzie Castle, and how he had given up a chance to escape to save Flora McKenzie and set her free after so many years in prison.

"Flora is alive…" Kier mused. "I can scarcely believe it. That poor, brave woman. How happy I am tae hear she's livin', yet how furious I feel that she's been wrongfully kept from the sun for so long. Ye did well, lad. Thank ye."

"She didnae make it here?" Cailean asked, frowning slightly. He and Maeve were holding hands, standing before the councilmen. "I was hopin' she'd have found the party on the way back and gotten an escort tae safety."

"We havenae heard from her, son," Senan said. "But that doesnae mean that she willnae find her way tae freedom. The group ye've gathered and brought back here tae Bruce Castle proves that there are more of us ready tae stand up tae the False King than we'd ever dared hope."

Ewan nodded. He smiled at Maeve and said, "Darren told me how ye risked everythin' tae save Cailean. I ken it cannae have been easy tae go up against yer own father."

Maeve sighed. She had not yet begun to unravel the complex mix of relief and frustration she felt at the fact that her father still lived. "I wish we'd been able to do more. We could have saved Nessa. Or Sorcha McKenzie. There's still so much we left undone."

"But ye brought Cailean back. Ye brought yerself back, and from what we hear, Breana brought some of the most useful information we've ever had tae hand." Hamish patted first Cailean, then Maeve, on the shoulder. "And though our stores will take a wee hit from tryin' tae help the refugees, the overall success that will come from what ye've all done will be worth every moment."

"We still need allies, make nae mistake," Kier said gravely, injecting the same kind of seriousness to the conversation that he somehow always managed to bring. "This is a fight that's a long way from bein' won. But ye've made a dent today deeper than any I meself have managed in over twenty years." He bowed his head. "Me king. And me queen."

Maeve, ridiculously, found herself blushing. "I'm nae queen yet," she said, rubbing the back of her neck a little awkwardly. It was one thing to hear it teasingly from Darren or respectfully from some of the other warriors, but for Kier, of all people, to talk to her in such a way.

"But ye will be," Senan noted, a little amusement mixed with a lot of pride in his voice. "And every person in this camp and beyond will ken it. King and Queen of a free Scotland. A far cry from a wee lass who needed savin' in a bar and a wee laddie who wouldnae accept his name."

"Tae McNair!" Ewan exclaimed, lifting the flagon before him.

The others laughed. "Tae McNair!"

Cailean stood on a platform in the middle of the courtyard of Bruce Castle, conscious of how similar the arrangement was to where he had been a few days before, and yet how different it was in every single aspect. A few days ago, he'd been a display, ready to die for his country, but a pawn in an enemy's game. Today, he stood as a symbol, a sign that the game had finally turned in their favor and that there was at long last a chance that they might one day win.

He looked out across the sea of faces, some well-known, others new. He felt a love for them he could not describe, and a renewed determination to make sure that each of these people was given the life that they deserved in the country that he would once again make their own.

Behind him, Maeve and Darren stood, supporting him but giving him his space to address his people. He could scarcely believe that he had reached this point, that he had become the man he'd thought he'd never possibly be.

He took a breath, feeling the support from the ones he loved behind him, and address the crowd. The moment that he opened his mouth, a hush fell over the gathered people, all of them rapt with attention. He smiled as he saw Taran, the farmer, near the front of the crowd, along with Barbara, the Sparrow who was his daughter, the woman whose near-sacrifice was part of the reason he and Maeve were alive today. He'd been introduced to them the other day, and he could not help but see them for what they were—a symbol of the hope that was slowly but surely growing in Scotland's heart.

"To me new friends, welcome—and tae the old, thank ye for welcomin' me back." The crowd chuckled at that, and Cailean smiled. He grew serious a moment later, knowing that his duty to these people meant that he needed to be clear about what was to come.

"This castle, Bruce Castle, is the ancestral home of me dearest friends—but as we all ken, it's only recently returned tae their name. A darkness ruled over this castle for twenty years, but with the help of me fellow rebels, we were able tae reclaim it. Look around ye now, me friends—look how this place that was once a dark place of oppression has once again become a symbol of hope."

"Hear, hear!" someone called from the crowd. Cailean hid a grin as he saw young Dirk leading the cheer, and several others followed.

When it died down again, Cailean continued. "But this is one castle—one win. Many of our enemies still stand, strong in their certainty that the False King is all powerful. We escaped with our lives and with many new allies from our foray intae O'Sullivan lands, but we have by nae means won the war. There is much work tae be done, and I hope I can count on each and every one of ye tae be part of it."

"But what of those of us who cannot fight?" someone piped up from the crowd. It was a woman, one of the refugees, holding a baby in her arms while a child of four or so clung to her skirts. "The farmers, the healers, aye, they can take part. But what of the wives and mothers? The sick and the elderly? What help can we be?"

Cailean studied the woman for a moment, then turned back to look at Maeve. His love smiled at him, encouraging him to go on. He turned back to the woman and said, "There are many more strengths than lifting a sword, me good woman. Tell me, what are yer bairns’ names?"

The woman went a little red, but answered. "Me wee daughter is Finola. And the bairn…his name is Robert. For the late king."

Cailean could not help but smile at that. "Finola and Robert. Welcome tae Bruce Castle, all of ye. Welcome tae the rebellion—tae our family." He addressed the whole crowd once more. "Ken that this rebellion’s main strength lies not in the power of our arms, but the strength of our hearts. In our dedication tae the future of bairns like Finola, like Robert. Like all of ye. Ken that each of ye have somethin' tae give, nae matter how small, and every moment ye spend here dedicated tae the rebellion is a moment ye give tae yer country."

He gestured to the many people now surrounding him, more than he could have dreamed only a few short months before.

"This is the future of our country. Ye are the future of our country. We have strength beyond what we've ever had before—information beyond what we had ever hoped—numbers that will at last begin tae strike fear intae the heart of the False King who has oppressed us for so long." His smile grew. "There is much work ahead of us. Many more allies tae gather, many more fights tae win. But for now, I say we celebrate."

He turned and beckoned, and both Maeve and Darren moved to his side.

"We are here," he announced. "We are alive. And we are powerful. But as the capercaillie once led me ancestors from the woods, I humbly ask that ye all let me lead ye on the path we've still tae follow. I cannae promise it will be an easy road, but it will be one we walk together."

"Together," Maeve said softly, taking his hand.

"Together," Darren agreed, placing a hand on his shoulder.

At the front of the crowd, Breana took Eoin's hand, then gripped young Dirk's hand with her other. Then something remarkable happened. As one, the crowd all joined hands with those beside them, a silent but powerful reminder that, no matter the rebellion might have to face ahead, they were one.