On Cava

…..

On Cava, every day that passes is much the same as the one that preceded it.

That's not to say there's nothing to do there. Vegetable plots have to be sown and tilled and harvested, fish have to be caught, animals need to be fed, the walls of their huts so battered by the salty ocean wind that they need to be patched at least once a week. There's always a job to be found for idle hands.

There's fun to be had, if you look for it. You could walk the full breadth of the island several times in a single day, if you were so inclined, but there are other children to play with and places to hide. Boredom is rare, especially since the lingering fear that the princes will be discovered chases away the urge to loaf around, instead forces one to fill the mind with activity.

The first days on Cava were panicky and tearful. They knew their father and mother were dead, had been told that in no uncertain terms and had it confirmed by Lord Dingwall as he escorted them to Cava. But as time went on they settled, they still had Maudie after all, and her husband Tearlach was strong and brave and promised to protect them. They had new friends, and they were young, and they adjusted.

Harris and Hamish adjusted.

Hubert did not.

He keeps it to himself. The triplets have been a hive mind since the day they were born, able to communicate with little more than a nod. That's no longer the case, and his brothers can feel it even if they say nothing. They pull away from him gradually, let him stew in his own unhappiness. Nobody else can see the change. Merida would have, but she's not there.

And that's the problem, the big unanswered question. Maudie refuses to speak of it to them. Mother and father are dead, but Merida is not, so where is she? Why isn't she with them? She couldn't escape with them, she'd given them her horse (and Hubert had tried his hardest to stay with her, because he's her brother and protecting her is his job) but they could have sent men to get her back. Why haven't they?

He asked Maudie once, it upset her too much to get a straight answer.

He plucked up the courage to ask Tearlach once, and he gets his straight answer. They don't have enough men to march on the castle without leaving the rest of the country undefended, and they can't risk waging a war for the sake of one girl, even if that one girl is the princess. The king would understand.

Hubert doesn't understand, and his rage alienates him from the others.

Dingwall pays frequent visits to the island to check on them, and he brings news from the capital. They don't talk until the triplets are in bed, but Hubert is very good at feigning sleep. He learns a lot more from the adults when they're not sparing the details for his young ears. He learns that his sister is due to marry the man who killed his parents, that her hand has been forced, that she's engineering the evacuation of the capital's people.

This is the first time he hears Tearlach talk of attack, of mounting a rescue while the invaders are distracted. He nearly cries with frustration when Dingwall talks him out of the idea to pin the priorities on the people who will be fleeing to the parts of the country they can defend.

That night, when he believes everyone to be asleep, Hubert sneaks out and tries to pick up Tearlach's sword. If nobody else is willing to save his sister, he'll do it himself. But the sword is too heavy for him to carry, and he doesn't know his way in the dark, and he can't navigate the stormy waters alone. Tearlach finds him sobbing over the sword and puts him back to bed without a word.

The next time Dingwall visits, he brings news that Merida has disappeared.

Maudie is hysterical, screaming over and over that 'that bastard's done something to her, I know it' Hamish and Harris are confused, Dingwall and his men are sorrowful and tinged with regret.

Hubert is delighted. Merida has been their hero since the day they left the womb and she introduced herself to a trio of squalling infants as their big sister. She was the one at whose feet they laid their childish trophies, she lead them on adventures in the woods from the day they could walk, she told them all the tales of ghosts and demons and bloody violent death that everyone else thought they were too young for. They should have known she'd find a way out herself.

After a long stretch of time in which they hear almost nothing, Dingwall arrives at the island breathless and in highest spirits. He's had a letter brought to him by a hawk, not native to the land, written in Gaelic and purported to be from Merida. Maudie, crying tears of relief, confirms that it's her handwriting.

So now they learn that Merida, having escaped from her captor, is in a foreign land of ice and high mountains. She's been given sanctuary by their queen and is in good health.

The letter is the first, and many follow. Hamish and Hubert, now with the knowledge that their sister is alive and not dead as they had believed, start asking when she'll join them on Cava. Maudie tries to tell them calmly but firmly that she won't be joining them there, because sea travel is so dangerous at the moment. So they start asking when they'll go to join her in this foreign land.

Hubert hates them for being so stupid, even though he knows it's not really their fault. He hates Maudie for keeping the truth from them. He hates Tearlach for not using all of his strength and battle prowess to save Merida when he had the chance. He hates Dingwall and Mackintosh and MacGuffin and all of their men for not banding together to drive away the invaders. He hates the invaders for trying to take what does not and will never belong to them.

Mostly, though, he hates himself. He hates himself for being a boy, not a man, for being small and weak. He hates that his brothers are still ignorant children and capable of finding happiness while he know more than he should and is miserable.

One morning, while across the ocean Merida waits on a balcony for the hawk to bring the reply to her letter, Tearlach brings Hubert to the cove and hands him a small but heavy practice sword. He's not even seven yet, and normally they don't start sword training until they turn ten, and his brothers have not been given swords.

"Why?" he asks.

"I fear we'll lose you if I don't teach you soon," Tearlach tells him. "We don't know when your sister will return to us. She may never return to us."

Hearing him say that out loud, Hubert feels a cold sensation grip him around his chest cavity.

"But if she does, I want you to be alive and ready."