The next day, Mary discreetly followed her brother's former friend. Dressed in breeches, a shirt and a plaid in the Lindsay colors, she stayed in his wake, never far from him, but never too close either. She tried to blend in with the crowd of warriors coming and going in the camps. She hid behind a tent to watch him as he chatted and joked with men from his clan. The girl was fascinated by the Highlander's physique. When she had met him in Duart, he was already tall and well built, but that was nothing like now. The boy of around fifteen had transformed into a robust and imposing warrior. If his size had grown a little since their first meeting, his muscles, on the other hand, had more than doubled and had become spectacular. In eight years, the son of Chief MacDonald of Clanranald had become almost physically unrecognizable! Mary scowled and railed against the injustice of life.

"Why has Cailean changed so much and I haven't? Why has he become such an impressive warrior while my body is still so thin and childish? I'm almost as flat as a clothes beater while girls my age already have curves that arouse men's lust. Not that I want to be a victim of their attentions, but at least Aunt Elizabeth stops telling me that I look like a boy! If I had a woman's figure, maybe she would stop nagging me to look more feminine? "

The more she spied on Cailean MacDonald, the more strange sensations she experienced. She felt hot and shivered at the same time. Her heart was pounding in her ribcage even though her chest felt compressed, as if gripped in a vice. Her body reacted as if it sensed danger and this diffuse sensation inexplicably distressed her. She couldn't understand why this Highlander made her so uncomfortable. Seeing the other warriors training didn't make her happy, she didn't pay them any attention. So why was Gavin's former friend so intriguing to her? It was certainly not because of his physique, because she had already encountered such well-made and impressive warriors and she had not been troubled by these men. What was special about him to pique her interest? Was it because he had been nice to her eight years ago? Or was it because she had surprised him in a situation that she should never have seen and which had sparked her curiosity? Mary couldn't answer that question, all she knew was that she wanted to learn more about him. And the only way to achieve this was to observe him in secret. Even though her uncle had told her to stay away from the MacDonalds and their allies, the young girl continued to spy on the warrior who had piqued her interest.

***

Cailean was nervous. The day had started well though. The sun had broken through the mist very early and he was able to enjoy the warmth of its rays by breaking the fast with his men in good spirits. After the snack, he made a quick inspection of the MacDonald camp, mingling with the warriors who were calling to each other and joking as usual. Until then everything had seemed normal to him. He attended an interview between clan leaders. He did not actually participate, because he was not yet the chief of the MacDonalds of Clanranald, but he had accompanied his father to the meeting between the Duke of Albany, who assumed the regency, and the main clan chiefs. As he left Dundonald Castle, he had a strange feeling. His instinct put him on alert. He felt the little hairs on the back of his neck stand up and glanced around, but without detecting the slightest trace of danger. This feeling of uneasiness did not leave him for the next hour, then faded during the mid-day meal before returning in the early afternoon. This impression was reinforced during training. As he confronted a fighter from the Ruari clan with his bare hands, he was certain that he was being watched. This was not strange in itself since there were many warriors circling around them, but these spectators did not hide while Cailean felt a special presence on her shoulders, the weight of a gaze concealed. Once the fight was over, he gave way to another fighter and stood back a little to observe the men present. He saw nothing unusual, except for a young boy who seemed to move from one place to another as if weaving between the spectators. When he fixed his gaze on him, he was struck by his intensity. The boy's reaction caught his attention. As soon as he saw that Cailean had spotted him, he raised his arm over his face and slipped away. The MacDonald warrior frowned and decided to catch up. With a brisk step, he went around the men gathered around the fighters to pursue him, but he lost sight of him. He tossed and turned, trying to spot the fugitive, but in vain. Annoyed, he returned to his place among his men. He didn't think about the incident again for the rest of the day. The next day, Cailean participated in sports games with the other warriors. The Duke of Albany having declared a truce during interclan meetings, attacking enemy clans was out of the question. On the other hand, men could confront each other without bloodshed through games of skill and strength. Each clan had designated a small group of warriors to represent it and they competed against each other in various competitions. Cailean and several of his comrades took part in the various events. Although he did not win the caber toss or the stone put test, the young man did however win the dagger throwing skill test.

Several times during the morning, he felt another gaze weighing on him. He looked around for the boy he had caught watching him the day before, but couldn't find him. Every time he looked around the crowd, he found nothing in particular. Just warriors gauging the performance of their opponents or women and children cheering on the men fighting each other. There were also young girls giggling as competitors demonstrated their strength and agility. Interclan meetings were also an opportunity to make alliances and it was common for marriages to be decided during these gatherings. Cailean was one of the warriors who had the preferences of young women and if he avoided approaching marriageable girls – considering himself too young to start a family – he appreciated the young, not shy widows who issued him unequivocal invitations.

A silhouette seen furtively in the crowd of women intrigued him. Judging by her size, she was a very young girl, almost a child still. On several occasions, he had felt her gaze on his body and an indefinable feeling had taken possession of him.

"It's probably the attention this girl is giving me that's bothering me. What could a kid like her want from me? "

Wanting to be sure, he looked for her with his eyes. When he saw her, half-hidden behind an older woman, a little girl in her arms and a little boy pressed against her, he took a step to the side to try to get a better look at her. The stranger's head was hidden under her arisaid and he could not see the color of her hair. On the other hand, he immediately recognized the sett. It was identical to the one worn by the surly-looking woman she was hiding behind; it was that of the Stewarts, the family branch of the former King Robert II. It was therefore not an enemy clan. Nor an ally, for that matter.