Macbeth chuckled. “So Banquo and Thorfinn tell me. I guess there is still room enough in Scotland for all the gods,” he said, but there was something in his voice that told me he didn’t believe what he said.
The raven eyed him warily.
“I’ve imposed upon you for too long. You look very tired. Gruoch… Are you well? There is blood on your dress.”
“Just a nosebleed, that’s all.”
He nodded. “Too much being outside in the cold weather. Let me go. You need some sleep.”
“Thank you for checking on me.”
“You will be my bride. It is my job to care for you, body and soul. Sleep well, Gruoch.”
“Corbie.”
“Sorry?”
“People who know me well call me Corbie.”
Macbeth smiled. “Goodnight.”
“Goodnight, Macbeth,” I said gently.
After he’d gone, I lay down with Lulach once more. My whole body ached terribly. I sighed.
“Oh, Andraste. What a mess you’ve made,” I whispered into the darkness just before I was lost to dreams.
* * *
What sleep I did get was fitful and full of nightmares. Over and over again, I saw Gillacoemgain burning in the fire. Between the bad dreams and Lulach’s hungry cries, I was utterly exhausted.
In the thick of night, I heard Lulach cry out once more. I nearly wept at the sound. I was so tired. Groggily, I reached out for him only to sense someone else in the room with us. Then, I heard a soft voice singing a lullaby. In the dim candlelight, I saw a figure rocking my child.
Startled, I sat bolt upright. Once my eyes cleared, I saw Banquo standing there with Lulach in his arms.
“I brought you a pitcher of fresh water,” he whispered. “It’s there by your bedside. There is bread in case you are hungry.”
Stunned, I stared at him. But a moment later, I realized then how parched I was. I poured myself a glass of water and watched Banquo gently rock my son, lulling Lulach back to sleep.
“Rest your head, my Cerridwen. I’ll wake you if he needs to be fed,” Banquo told me.
“But…” I began, a thousand protests wanting to tumble out of my mouth.
Banquo, who’d been looking at Lulach, turned to me. “Sleep. I’ll watch over you both. Don’t worry. I’ll be gone before the sun rises. No one will know. Take a few hours of rest. Your son is safe with me.”
Exhausted, relieved, conflicted, and desperate, I lay my head back down and closed my eyes. And this time, I slept peacefully.
Chapter 7
The following morning, Lulach’s cries woke me. I rose groggily to find my baby boy nestled safely beside me in bed, Thora lying protectively at our feet. Our midnight watchman was gone.
“There now, little love. I’ve got you,” I whispered to Lulach. I changed his wet bed clothes then sat down to feed him.
The first light of dawn was just peeking above the horizon. A soft lavender color filled the skyline. I closed my eyes and thought about Banquo. I felt immense gratitude. Unmoored from Gillacoemgain, with Macbeth’s nature unclear and Malcolm’s plans threatening, I’d felt so alone. How fortune it was that Banquo had appeared in the middle of the mess. There was still something between us. I may have buried my feelings to survive, but they still existed. Only someone who truly loved me would come in the middle of the night to care for me and another man’s child.
I sighed heavily. Even before Lulach was sated, Ute slipped into the room and started packing up my belongings.
“We’re headed for Inverness this morning,” she told me. I couldn’t help but hear the excitement in her voice. “Macbeth’s father, Findelach has a grand castle along the river Ness. Did you ever see it?”
“No.”
“You’ll be very comfortable there, my lady. It will be a fresh start. There are too many memories for you here.”
Ute sang happily as she worked, trying to cheer me, I suspected. She packed up my belongings then saw to Lulach so I could get myself ready.
“Is it a far ride to Inverness?” I asked.
“We’ll be there by midday.”
I looked down at my gown. It was spotted with blood and dirty from the road.
“Bring the blue gown,” I told her.
“I was going to suggest, my lady, that perhaps you needed some freshening up.”
I was still bleeding from childbirth, leaking milk, and covered in blood and mud. I felt like a wild animal who’d been running scared. Once I finally got to Inverness, I’d take a long, hot bath. For now, I stripped off my dirty gown and washed with soap and warm water from a pot sitting by the fire then put on fresh garments. Afterward, I felt much better.
Once I was re-dressed, I left my chamber and went back to Gillacoemgain’s room. I took two servants with me. I left them at the door then went inside.
Gillacoemgain had no family save Macbeth. Lulach was not even his own. I opened the wardrobe. Inside, I found some of my dresses. They were gowns I’d worn before Lulach and Crearwy had grown too big. Turning, I opened Gillacoemgain’s trunk, which sat at the end of the bed. Inside, I found a chainmail shirt, a shield, a heavy helmet, daggers, and knives. From another chest, I drew out two pairs of leather breeches and a pair of vambraces. I placed everything inside one of the trunks then covered Gillacoemgain’s belongings with my gowns. I would keep Gillacoemgain’s armaments for Lulach. Taking one last look at the chamber, my heart feeling heavy, I turned and exited the room.
“That trunk,” I told the men, pointing. “Please have it loaded onto the wagons headed for Inverness.”
“Yes, my lady,” the agreed in unison then got to work.
I went back downstairs to get Lulach. Banquo was in my chamber.
“Ah, here you are. Are you ready, my lady?” he asked courteously. There were dark circles under his eyes. Clearly, he hadn’t gotten much sleep. “I’ve arranged a wagon for you, the baby, and your maid.”
“Thank you. Where is Macbeth?” I had not seen him at all that morning.
“He rode ahead to ensure everything was ready for you,” Banquo replied. I saw him smother an emotion that had fleetingly crossed his face. Jealousy? Anger? I wasn’t sure what.
Ute and I followed Banquo to the yard where a large party of soldiers and several carts waited. I noticed that some of Cawdor’s household staff was riding along with us. The wagons were laden with Cawdor’s treasures: food, wine, ale, and other supplies. The stables were busy as even more soldiers arranged for the livestock to be moved to Inverness. Amongst Macbeth’s men, I spotted Standish.
“Ute, please take Lulach and get settled in. Where is Kelpie?”
“Your horse? There. I asked the soldiers to see that he was sent along with the others to Inverness,” Banquo said then added under his breath. “I recognized him.”
I nodded then motioned for Banquo to come along with me. “I’ll only be a moment,” I told him then headed over to Standish.
Standish, who’d been with Gillacoemgain for many years, looked tired and annoyed as he eyed Macbeth’s men and Cawdor’s goods leaving the castle. He softened, however, when he saw me.
“Lady Gruoch. How are you, lady? They said you and your babe arrived here with Macbeth’s party. Are you well?” he asked, worry painted all over his face.
“I am. As is my little one,” I said.
“May the gods bless you both,” Standish replied. “I was sorry to hear about the other child,” he said then reached out and gently squeezed my arm.
“Thank you,” I replied, my eyes feeling watery. “I’m glad to see that Macbeth didn’t…that Cawdor was unharmed.”
Standish nodded sadly. “After we learned that Gillacoemgain had perished, we let Macbeth in without conflict. My lady, I am so sorry for you.”
“Thank you. I wanted to ask… I wondered if you knew what happened to…Gillacoemgain’s body, if it was brought back to Cawdor.”
“I’m sorry, my lady,” Standish said, his eyes wet with unshed tears. “
They say he was burned beyond all recognition, his men along with him, including Fergus. Many families lost their heads of house alongside him.”
I swallowed hard. “Oh,” was all I could utter for the moment. Pulling myself together, I added, “Send a rider with names. I will see what I can do to help those families.”
“Lord Macbeth may not like—” Standish began then cast a glance toward Banquo.
“I don’t give a damn. I am the Lady of Moray. I will care for my people.”
Standish smiled. “We’re so pleased you’ve returned, Lady Gruoch, even if it is under the worst conditions. I’m glad Prince Duncan didn’t claim you as some rumored.”
“As am I. I was wondering, have you seen the lad Eochaid? The others say he went missing.”
“No, my lady.”
I frowned. “I’ll check the mews before we go.”
He nodded. “My lady, what did you name our future lord?”
I smiled. “Lulach.”
“All hail Lord Lulach,” he said with a smile.
“Be well,” I said, pulling Standish into a hug.
“You too, my lady,” he replied, and when I pulled back, I saw him dash tears from his cheeks.
“Just a moment more?” I whispered to Banquo.
He nodded, and we went together to the mews where Gillacoemgain’s falcons had been kept. To my surprise, the pens were open, and the birds were gone.
“What is it?” Banquo asked, catching the startled expression on my face.
I held on to the door of the pen. I closed my eyes then said, “Gillacoemgain’s birds… They’re not here.”
Banquo stepped outside. “There,” he said, pointing upward.
I joined him, following his gaze. Overhead, the falcons flew over the field then into the forest.
“Someone set them free,” Banquo said.
I turned back to the cage. Inside, I noticed something odd. On one of the ledges was a bright red rose.
I reached in and grabbed it. It was frozen solid, as if someone had brought it freshly bloomed in summer only for it to be frozen by the winter chill.
“A rose,” Banquo said, looking at the blossom. “How?”
I lifted the rose to my nose and inhaled. The perfume of summer was still frozen inside. Eochaid had gone back to the realm of the faerie. I was sure of it. And it was he who’d set my love’s birds free. It was only fitting. Gillacoemgain’s spirit was free. Why shouldn’t his birds be as well?
“Fey things,” I whispered in reply.
Understanding what was not easy to explain, Banquo nodded then we turned and headed back toward the cart.
“Who will keep watch over the castle?” I asked Banquo.
“Macbeth has assigned another of his generals to stay here.”
“He didn’t ask me about it.”
“Macbeth is the Lord of the North. He doesn’t need to ask you,” Banquo replied then added, “and it probably never occurred to him that you might have an opinion on the matter.”
“Cawdor is Lulach’s birthright.”
“Yes, and I urge you to remind him of it,” Banquo said. “Inverness is Macbeth’s home. I think he just wants to go back. He has been Malcolm’s ward, a prisoner in truth, for many years. I think he just wants to go back to being…himself. But Macbeth will benefit from your advising. He needs to see you are not a southern court lady. He’s used to fine ladies acting like lapdogs. You must show your strength.”
“Indeed.”
Banquo sighed. “Are you ready?”
“As I ever will be.”
Banquo helped me into the cart then left to go rally the rest of the party.
“My lady, I’m surprised to see you’re so familiar with the Thane of Lochaber. I didn’t know you knew Lord Banquo?” Ute said, her voice thick with unasked questions.
“Yes. I’ve known him many years,” I replied simply, but said nothing more. Ute took the hint and didn’t press me further.
The wagon driver clicked at the horses, and we headed out. I looked back once more at Cawdor. My heart filled with sorrow as I sensed I was leaving both Cawdor and Gillacoemgain’s memory behind.
Chapter 8
We arrived at Inverness later that afternoon. Kenneth MacAlpin, my ancient ancestor who had united ancient Scotland and ruled over the Kingdom of Alba, kept his seat at Inverness. Despite the fact that I’d grown comfortable and felt safe behind the walls in Cawdor, Inverness belonged to me as much as it belonged to Macbeth. As I passed through the gate, I felt its power. The stones reverberated with the old magic of Scotland. I felt my ancestors around me. And when I closed my eyes, I could hear their voices. It was distracting to suddenly find myself housed in a castle sitting in one of the thin places.
“Do you feel it?” Banquo asked me as he helped me out of the wagon.
I nodded. “I could fall between the worlds here.”
“The thinness is useful at times, for those of us who know the path,” he said with a wink.
I took his hand and squeezed it gently.
“Gruoch,” Macbeth called, crossing the courtyard to meet me.
I let go of Banquo.
“Welcome to Inverness. Please, come inside. Let me show you your new home,” Macbeth said, extending his hand to me.
I nodded, took Lulach from Ute, then went with Macbeth.
Banquo turned and walked away from us, Thora alongside him.
“I’ve had a section of the castle prepared for you and Lulach,” he said, leading me inside. “It’s winter now, but in the summer there is a small garden in your corridor. Come,” he said excitedly, leading me through the winding halls and up a flight of stairs to the second floor. We walked down a rampart that led to a massive door. “This section will be yours.”
Pushing open the door, he led me to a comfortable hall which boasted several benches, spinning wheels, a cozy fire, a space suitable for ladies’ work. Apparently, I was back to sewing and talking about babies once more.
“There is a room there for your maid here,” he said, motioning to a door just off the small hall. I looked back at Ute, who was smiling happily. “And the stairs there lead to the garden below,” he added, pointing.
“My lady, may I go have a look?” Ute asked brightly.
I nodded.
“This way,” Macbeth said, leading me to another door just off the private hall. “Your bedchamber.”
The chamber was vast and nicely appointed. Inside was a large wooden poster bed, a comfortable chair, another spinning wheel, a wardrobe, and several trunks. Someone had lit a fire. The room was warm and nicely adorned.
“This is the best part,” he said then led me to the door on the far side of the chamber. He pushed it open to reveal a balcony that looked over the river.
“It’s lovely,” I said.
“I thought you would like it. My chamber is at the other end of the rampart.”
I nodded. So he had not intended for us to sleep together. Was that only until we were married or would we keep separate apartments, as was the fashion at court? It had never occurred to me that I might sleep separately from Gillacoemgain. I had merely assumed we would be together. Perhaps Macbeth had intended a more formal arrangement, or was he just trying to be polite? I hardly knew. I couldn’t get a fix on the man. So far, I hadn’t seen the person living below the surface of that pale skin and blue eyes. Macbeth was…blocked. What manner of man lived underneath? I wasn’t sure.
“I’ve sent a rider south to Malcolm. We’ll need his approval before our nuptials can be formalized, but I promise to take good care of you. You have nothing to fear here. I’ll see to your every need.”
Can you? the raven questioned with an unseen smirk. The waspishness of the question surprised me. “Thank you,” I replied.
But Macbeth was right. In matters of state, I belonged to King Malcolm. The bloody king who’d masterminded my own father’s death would give my hand where he wanted it given. Learning that I was in Macbeth’s entourage might influen
ce his decision, but that all depended on whether or not he believed he could rule Macbeth. That was something I wasn’t sure about. But Malcolm’s plans were not clear. On the surface, it had seemed he had favored Gillacoemgain. But if that was so, how had Macbeth slipped Malcolm’s yoke armed well enough to war against Gillacoemgain? Had the king decided, in the end, that Gillacoemgain was not the ruler in the north he’d wanted? I didn’t know. But Duncan had been on his way to Aberdeen, and I remembered well that the king had instructed Gillacoemgain to send me there.
“Malcolm… What do you think he will do?” I asked Macbeth.
“I’m not sure,” Macbeth said, but I noticed the guarded expression on his face. “Duncan is his favorite and holds his ear. If there is a way to appease Duncan, we should not anticipate any opposition. Much depends on how much Duncan pouts.”
“Or on Malcolm’s confidence in his ability to bring you to heel. You did, after all, slip his grasp,” I replied, seeking to scratch the surface.
“Yes, well…” Macbeth shifted uncomfortably. His averted gaze was all the proof I needed. Malcolm had sent him north. Macbeth had been tasked with taking Moray from Gillacoemgain.
“And, of course, you also did what you were not supposed to do. Claiming me as a war prize wasn’t part of the deal you made with Malcolm.”
“Deal?” he asked. The muscles under his left eye twitched. “What do you mean?”
“Malcolm sent you north to overthrown Gillacoemgain and subdue Thorfinn of Orkney. Why did you come after me when you knew Malcolm had planned to wed me to Duncan once Gillacoemgain was dead?”
Macbeth stared at me. “How did you know?”
I was right. “Does it matter?”
“Because if I captured the Lady of Moray, Malcolm would have to give you to me or make war to get you back. Either way, I got what I wanted.”
“What you wanted?”
“To be free of Malcolm. To come home, back in the halls of my ancestors. You were the key to my freedom. Malcolm cannot make me return to court as his ward now that I am here in Inverness with the Lady of Moray and Gillacoemgain’s heir at my side. He cannot war against me now. And he cannot force me to return you without talk that will weaken him. I needed you to win my freedom and my birthright. I will not lick Duncan’s boots. I will rule the north as my father did before me, before Gillacoemgain murdered him. I will not give over my birthright to my cousin or anyone else.”
Highland Vengeance (The Celtic Blood Series Book 3) Page 4
