Highland Vengeance

by Melanie Karsak

  Thorfinn laughed.

  I stared at Banquo who wouldn’t meet my eye.

  While there was much merriment to be had that night, the growing life inside of me drained my energy. Soon, I found I was overly tired.

  “I’ll retire for the night,” I told Macbeth and Thorfinn. “I’m feeling weary.”

  Macbeth kissed my cheek. “Sleep, my dear wife. I’ll check on you later.”

  Banquo rose. “I’ll also retire. I’ll walk with you, lady,” he told me.

  “Aye,” Thorfinn said cheerfully then waved farewell to us.

  With that, Banquo and I departed. We walked in silence for a time. The air between us was charged. After a bit, he said, “I do wish you congratulations.”

  I linked my arm with his. “Banquo, I know that—”

  “I’ve meant to tell you that I must return to Lochaber when we travel south.”

  “Oh? You will not be gone for too long, I hope.”

  Banquo stiffened then stopped. “What do you expect me to do? How would you feel watching Merna grow ripe with my child? I’ll be gone as long as I need to. Goodnight, Gruoch, daughter of Boite,” he said then let me go. Turning, he headed toward the beach.

  “Banquo?”

  He did not look back.

  “Banquo, please.”

  He disappeared over the rise and into the dark of night.

  Sighing, I turned and went to my house. There was a strange shiver in the air and a cold wind whipped around. When I pushed open the door, I was met with the sharp scent of flowers. I was standing on the cauldron terrace of Ynes Verleath.

  “How now, daughter?” a familiar, crackling voice asked.

  “Andraste?” I had walked between the worlds.

  “I come as the raven,” Andraste said.

  “And what do you herald?”

  “A royal death. “

  “A royal death?”

  “Your father will be avenged,” Nimue said.

  “Malcolm. When?”

  “When the mother sleeps, so shall he,” Andraste replied.

  “And after?”

  “Strife,” Nimue said.

  “And blood,” Andraste added.

  “And crowns for kings,” Nimue said. “And queens.”

  “Make yourself ready,” Andraste added then waved her hand before her.

  The cold wind blew once more. I rocked a little as I reappeared in the longhouse, standing just outside the open door.

  “Oh, my lady, you startled me,” Ute said, turning. She was kneeling before the fire, banking up the logs.

  I entered slowly, my hands and knees quaking. “Sorry. Is Lulach sleeping?”

  “Yes, my lady.”

  I nodded absently.

  “My lady, you should take your rest. I…was so pleased to hear your news,” she said, her voice wavering a bit.

  “Thank you, Ute. Ute, are you well?” In truth, she had been acting odd since we arrived in Thurso. I had thought it was the strain of the travel and the foreignness of the place, but perhaps there was more to it. Of late, she seemed…nervous.

  Ute gingerly set another log on the fire. “I’m well.”

  I was keenly aware that she was not meeting my eyes.

  “Are you certain?”

  She rose, clapping her hands. “Yes, my lady,” she said with a forced smile.

  “Very well,” I said, eyeing her carefully. “Goodnight then.”

  She nodded. “Goodnight.”

  When I finally lay down, I thought about Andraste’s words. A royal death was coming in the winter. Did I dare warn Macbeth? Would he trust my sources? Word had come that Malcolm’s spring illness had left him weak, but had not killed him. Yet Andraste’s word was to be trusted. She knew what would be.

  I would say nothing…yet.

  Chapter 23

  Two days later, I was wandering along the seashore with Lulach, tossing stones into the water, when Banquo and a man I did not know approached. The man wore the garments of a humble farmer.

  Banquo had not spoken to me since we’d quarreled. And he hadn’t come out of his house. Merna told me he was not feeling well, but her eyes held a different tale. When I offered to check on him, she dissuaded me.

  “Oh no, I’ve got the matter in hand. It’s nothing serious,” she had said then changed the subject.

  I had no idea what was going on, but I was pleased to see him up and about once more.

  As he approached, he only fleetingly glanced at me. I noticed he had dark rings under his eyes and looked very pale.

  “Banquo? Is anything the matter?”

  “This is Master Young. He’s a neighbor to Sigurd and Gwendelofar.”

  “One of my lads helps Sigurd on their farm. Gwendelofar asked us to send for you. She expects her little one soon,” the man said.

  I nodded. “Thank you for coming. I’ll get ready at once.”

  “Shall I wait and take you, my lady?” Master Young asked.

  “No, I’ll take her. Thank you, Master Young. Please have your horse refreshed at the stables. Tell them I sent you.”

  “Thank you, Thane.”

  Banquo nodded.

  The farmer turned and headed back toward the village.

  “Dat, dat,” Lulach babbled. “Dat, mum, dat,” he said, tugging on my skirt.

  Following his gaze, I looked out at the water. Not far away, a pod of dolphins swam, their fins breaking the surface of the water.

  “Dolphins. They’re hunting fish,” Banquo said, kneeling beside Lulach. “The fish swim near the shore, so they’ve come to eat them up. There are many dolphins in the Moray Firth which you will rule over when you are mormaer,” he told my boy.

  Lulach’s blue eyes widened as he looked out at the water. Banquo picked him up. “Here, lad. Have a better look. There,” Banquo said, pointing.

  As Lulach studied the water, Banquo studied Lulach. “His eyes and hair are like yours, but not his brow nor that chin…or dimple,” he said, squeezing Lulach’s cheek. “I met Gillacoemgain once. You were married to him at the time. He came to Lochaber to check my allegiance. He was guarded and suspicious of me, but he spoke plainly and fairly. In truth, his manner surprised me. He did not seem like the man he was rumored to me. Lulach does look like him.”

  My stomach clenched. The truth would help nothing here.

  “Merna said you’ve been unwell.”

  “I’ll be fine,” Banquo said dismissively. “Look, Lulach. You see? Watch them. They may jump.”

  “Banquo,” I said then moved closer to him.

  “I’m fine,” he said stiffly. “Shall we go back and provision? We’ll want to leave soon.”

  “I must speak to Macbeth.”

  “Of course,” Banquo retorted, his voice sharp.

  I made no comment.

  “Can you say goodbye to the dolphins?” Banquo asked Lulach.

  My little boy waved, watching and waving even after the creatures were out of sight. Banquo followed Lulach’s gaze. Banquo narrowed his own glance, and I felt the air around us shift.

  “Dat. Dat. Banc, Banc, look. Dat,” Lulach said, pointing.

  I followed both their gazes. There was a shimmer on the waves, and the water moved as if something had been there, but I couldn’t see anything.

  “Yes, I see,” Banquo told Lulach then kissed his cheek. “But they are very naughty. You must stay away. Do you understand?”

  “Dat. Dat,” Lulach said pointing.

  “What do you see?” I asked.

  “Your child has eyes for the otherworld,” Banquo said.

  Frowning, I looked again. “As do I, but I see nothing.”

  Banquo smiled. “Men’s eyes are different, Cerridwen.”

  “Indeed?”

  “Indeed. Those who sing from the waves call to men, not women.”

  I stopped and looked back. How oddly the sun shimmered on the water, making it sparkle and come alive with light. There was something there, but I could not see it. “Selkies?”<
br />
  “You’re the one who named your horse Kelpie,” Banquo said with a soft smile. I was glad to see him relax.

  I took Lulach’s hand and kissed it. “No selkies for you. And no faerie princesses either.”

  “Faerie princesses?”

  “Sid… She told Lulach he should marry the princess of the Seelies.”

  “Sid was here? When?”

  “But a brief moment in the early summer then gone again, as is her way.”

  “Cerridwen, I’m sorry for my tone the other night. You know I wish you well, I just…”

  “You don’t need to say anything.”

  “I do. I was less than kind. I was jealous. And angry. It was wrong. I’m having a hard time—”

  “You are only human. And you are forgiven. I did not think I would be able to bear a child again. And things with Macbeth have not been easy.”

  “You don’t have to explain. You are the lawful wife of Macbeth. Please, let’s speak of this no more.”

  “Very well.”

  We walked back to the village. Banquo handed Lulach back to me. “I’ll be in the stables when you’re ready. I’ll have them prepare a cart.”

  I nodded then turned and went to the hall. It was still early in the day. Macbeth and Thorfinn sat together looking over dispatches. Their conversation was low and dark.

  “My lords,” I called as cheerfully as possible.

  Macbeth stood.

  Thorfinn smiled at me. “Ah, the Lord of Moray has come to hear the news. Come, Lord Lulach. See what we are scheming.” Thorfinn rose and reached out to Lulach who went readily to him.

  I felt a brush against my leg as Thora suddenly appeared.

  “Now, where have you been?” I scolded her then turned to Macbeth. “Word has come, my lord. My dear friend’s lying in has begun. With your blessing, I will go attend her.”

  Macbeth smiled kindly. “Of course. Banquo will escort you. Ask him to prepare a cart,” he said then turned to Lulach. “What say you, my boy? What shall we men do while your mother is gone?”

  “Is there news?” I asked, looking down at the papers scattered on the table.

  Thorfinn groaned. “Cnut posturing in Norway. Malcolm unusually quiet.”

  I chewed my lip. No. This was not the time.

  “Anything from Madelaine?”

  Macbeth shook his head.

  I frowned. It had been some time since I’d heard from her. I had not yet sent news south of my pregnancy in case one of Malcolm’s spies intervened. If Macbeth and I had a son—before Duncan—it would further add to our claim. It was best that no word was sent until the child was delivered.

  “I’ll go make ready then?” I said, letting the question linger, well aware of Macbeth’s reaction the last time I’d gone out with Banquo.

  Thorfinn kissed Lulach and handed him back to me. “Safe travels, lady. You’re a lucky man, Macbeth. Your wife is wise, beautiful, and has a healer’s touch. One day, she and my Ingibjorg will be quite the pair.”

  I chuckled. “And your Ingibjorg, what is she like?”

  “She has the sweetest heart, tits big as melons, and a blonde braid thick as a horse’s tail down to her round ass.”

  Macbeth laughed.

  “So, many good qualities then,” I said with a laugh. “Anything else?”

  “Does a man need anything else?” Thorfinn replied.

  “Perhaps not.”

  Thorfinn smiled. “Be safe, Lady Macbeth.”

  “No worries there, Thane,” Macbeth said. “Banquo watches over her like she was his sister.”

  “So he does,” Thorfinn said with a nod then turned back to his papers, smothering a look that had only briefly crossed his face.

  “Come back soon,” Macbeth said, kissing me once more. “And stay safe.”

  “And you,” I said then turned to go. My heart felt much at ease. Perhaps the last time too much drink had provoked his jealousies. Whatever worries had nagged Macbeth, they were gone. He was not the man he had been some months ago, thank the Goddess.

  It took me about an hour to prepare, but soon Banquo and I had the wagon loaded and were ready to go.

  Merna chatted quietly to Banquo, who nodded and replied to her in whispered words. From the expression on her face, I could tell she was worried about him. In truth, I was not sure if he had been truly ill or merely melancholy.

  “I’ll be all right,” he finally told her, his voice sounding a bit exasperated, then he kissed her on the forehead. He turned to Fleance. “Mind your mother,” Banquo told him.

  “Yes, sir,” he said in his sweet, earnest, child’s voice. But the fact that he was lying was so plain, it made me chuckle.

  “And don’t get into any trouble,” Banquo added.

  “No, sir,” he said then giggled knowing that his lie was too bold.

  Banquo smiled then shook his head.

  “Are you sure you don’t want me to come, my lady,” Ute asked me for the hundredth time. “I’ll be on hand in case you need help. And I can help your friend with her little ones. Are you sure, my lady? It won’t be any bother.”

  I looked at Ute realizing then that she wanted to come but didn’t have the courage to break protocol and just ask. I eyed her over. She was very pale and worked her hands nervously. “Ute, is everything all right?”

  “Oh, of course. I just worry about Lulach. I know you’ve got him almost weaned, but I hate to have him far from you, especially since you might be gone a couple of days. I worry,” she said then looked down. “And you might need help. I could help you.”

  She was lying. Something was wrong. “Ute?”

  “Are you sure you don’t want me and Lulach to come? I got him ready just in case. I have everything packed for him and me, in case you changed your mind.”

  I stared at her. There was something going on here that I could not see.

  “You will need to keep Lulach out from underfoot,” I said.

  “Of course, my lady. I’ll go get our things now,” she said then turned and rushed to the house.

  I turned to Banquo who looked like he’d just caught the tail end of our conversation.

  “Ute and Lulach will join us,” I told him.

  Banquo nodded. “Very well. And where is Thora?”

  I spotted her in the distance running around with her pack of mongrels. “There,” I said, pointing.

  Banquo whistled loudly. The sound grabbed Thora’s attention. Leaving her pack behind, she raced across the village and hopped into the wagon.

  “Merna, will you be so kind to let Macbeth know Lulach and Ute decided to join us?”

  “Of course,” she said with a smile.

  I exhaled deeply. Surely, Macbeth would take no issue with it. After all, it would free him from being troubled with Lulach while I was gone.

  Ute raced in and out of the house, first depositing bags and then returning with Lulach who was bundled up. I climbed into the wagon then she handed my boy to me. After, she crawled into the back of the wagon with Thora, wrapping her arm around the dog. I didn’t miss the look of relief on her face.

  “Safe journeys,” Merna called. Fleance, Morag, and Merna waved to us as we set out.

  Banquo and I waved farewell then headed off.

  “No talking to the good neighbors when we go into the forest, my pretty boy. They’ll take you and leave me a changeling,” I whispered to Lulach.

  Banquo laughed. “They’ll never touch him. Don’t worry.”

  “And why do you say that?”

  Banquo pointed to the red dart on Lulach brow. “He comes by his protection naturally.”

  “It was a blessing gifted to him.”

  Banquo nodded. “Have you noticed the shape of it? It’s changing as he gets bigger.”

  I stared at my son. Banquo was right. The red dart had the subtle shape of a stag’s head.

  “What does it mean?”

  Banquo smiled. “As you said, he’s blessed.”

  I thought back to that
morning by the water and how Lulach had been able to see the selkies. And when Sid had come for that brief moment, Lulach had noticed Nadia. I had always assumed Crearwy would be the one gifted with the old magic, but Lulach truly had been touched.

  I exhaled deeply and looked at my little boy who was snuggled against me. In protecting his claim to Moray and to the crown, I had never considered what might happen if Lulach’s spirit was more suited for a different life. A terrible feeling of dread washed over me. What if he was more like his father? Gillacoemgain had much preferred the woods, the animals, birds, and sunny fields to statecraft. But I tripped over my own thoughts. Gillacoemgain was not his father.

  I’d told the Morrigu that Lulach’s fate was beholden to none. It was his own to decide. But what if I had already steered him down a path ill-suited for him?

  “Little Lulach,” I whispered then kissed my child on his brow. My hand drifted to my stomach, to the life growing so unexpectedly inside my womb. Soon, I’d have another’s future in my hands. I hope the fates would be easier to the child of Macbeth.

  Chapter 24

  We reached the small farm just before nightfall. Sigurd met us at the door.

  “Ah, here is Cerr—”

  “Lady Gruoch,” Banquo interrupted. “And her maid, Ute.”

  “Ah, yes. Lady Gruoch. Just in time. Gwendelofar started swearing in Rus about an hour ago,” he said then laughed.

  I chuckled. “My maid kindly offered to come along. We thought she could help keep Neda occupied. And here is my little Lulach.”

  “Oh, aye. Let me see him,” Sigurd said, reaching out to Lulach who grinned at him. “He looks much like you.”

  I smiled. “Thank you.”

  Banquo handed me my medicine kit. “We’ll see to Lulach. Why don’t you check on Gwen?”

  “Come along, Lord Lulach. Neda is hiding in the barn. Let’s see if you can talk her out,” Sigurd told my boy.

  I headed inside.

  Before I even reached the door, I heard Gwendelofar muttering in her mother tongue.

  “Gwen?” I called.

  “Cerridwen, thank goodness. Took you long enough.”

  I bit my tongue then grinned at her. “Very sorry. My maid came with me, so it will be Gruoch or Corbie.”