Highland Queen
The Celtic Blood Series, Book 4
Melanie Karsak
MelanieKarsak.com
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Highland Queen
The Celtic Blood Series, Book 4
Copyright © Melanie Karsak, Clockpunk Press, 2018
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced without permission from the author. This is a work of fiction. All characters and events portrayed are fictional. Any resemblances to the living or dead are purely coincidental.
Published by Clockpunk Press
Cover art by Damonza
Editing by Becky Stephens Editing
Editing by Contagious Edits
Proofreading by Siren Editing
Table of Contents
Highland Queen
Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Author’s Note
About the Author
Sneak Peek of Beauty and Beastly: Steampunk Beauty and the Beast
Beauty and Beastly Chapter 1: Bonjour
In loving memory of Suzanne Stewart
Chapter 1
I shuddered. All at once, my conscious mind rushed back. My heartbeat was wild, my breath heavy, and my hands trembled. Knees weak, I pitched sideways, only catching myself the moment before I tumbled to the ground. Blood ran down my arms, dripping from my fingers.
I looked down at the corpse at my feet. The empty shell that had been Duncan lay with his mouth open wide. His eyes bulged as he stared into the night’s sky.
Slowly, I became conscious of the splatters of blood all over me. I smelled death. Lifting my hands, I stared at them. They were deep ruby red, covered in chunks of pulp, shredded armor, and blood.
I gazed at Duncan once more.
It was over.
It was done.
The dark presence which had guided my steps receded. My rage settled. Once again, the world around me came into focus. I could smell the mud and the mist. Bodies littered the ground. In the distance, I heard the sounds of men.
“Banquo,” I whispered, peering into the fog.
Pausing to grab Gillacoemgain’s helmet, I retraced my steps toward the field, following the sounds of the dying battle. Ahead of me, I spotted a small band of men standing perfectly still. When I neared them, they turned and looked at me.
It was the Moray men I had woken from their eternal slumber. Their eyes had taken on the white glaze of death, and they held their broken bodies at weird angles. They turned to face me as if awaiting further instructions.
Andraste, what wizardry have you taught me?
“Thank you, my brothers,” I told the men. “Thank you. The deed is done.”
I raised a blood-covered finger, pointed it upward, drawing magic from the air.
Blue light crackled around my blood-soaked digit.
“Sleep,” I told them, leveling my finger on them. In the air, I made the arcane rune that Andraste had taught me. “Sleep,” I said again, releasing the magic back into the ground.
The men tumbled down like rag dolls.
“Cerridwen? Cerridwen!” Banquo called from a distance. “Cerridwen, where are you?”
A moment later, Thora appeared, her nose to the ground. When she spotted me, she turned and barked. Jogging through the mist, Banquo raced to join her. When he saw me, he stopped and stared.
“Cerridwen,” he whispered. “Are you… Are you hurt?”
No, not anymore.
“No,” I replied.
“It’s just… It’s so much blood.”
I shrugged. “Who knew the young man would have so much blood in him.”
Banquo’s brow furrowed. He looked toward the field behind me. “Duncan?”
I nodded.
“We need to get you off the battlefield. The day is done, and we are victorious. But no one must see you.”
I nodded then pulled on Gillacoemgain’s helmet once more.
“Where is Kelpie?” Banquo asked.
I shook my head. “I don’t know. Alive, I hope.”
Banquo nodded then turned to Thora. “Thora, we need horses. Quickly.”
Thora sniffed the wind then turned and raced across the field. Banquo and I followed quickly behind her.
So many bodies littered the field. Men from the south. Men from the north. They lay atop one another. So many lives lost.
There was glory in battle, but so much loss. Too much. For what? So one king could topple another? So one disgusting madman could rule in another’s place? No. No more. I would put an end to it.
Thora soon found a small herd of horses prancing nervously near the forest. Two of them bolted when we drew near. Sheathing his sword, Banquo lifted his hands and began whispering in a low tone. My eyes, still lit up with the raven’s magic, saw green light glimmer all around Banquo. A moment later, the horses calmed. Moving slowly, Banquo grabbed the reins of two of the mounts. The horses came along behind him.
He handed one of the leads to me then took the other horse. Both of us mounted.
Fog still covered the battlefield. It was hard to even see where we were.
“Thora, you must lead us until the mist clears,” I told her.
She turned, put her nose to the ground, then began running.
“Handy to have a magical dog,” Banquo said, giving me a slight smile.
We rode into the night. As we did so, we spied men in the shadows, retreating through the woods. We let them pass and rode on.
As we rode, my mind cleared.
I would need to send dispatches. Macbeth and Thorfinn… What had happened on their fronts?
Macbeth and I would need to move south to settle the matter of the crown before England got ideas. And we would need to deal with the southern lords. Thorfinn and Magnus had their own issues in the north. And then there was Duncan’s legacy—his wife, his sons. Something must be done, and quickly.
Luckily for me, the horse under me was as sure-footed as Kelpie. The young stallion, blood bay in color with a black mane and tail, raced behind Thora as we made our way back to Cawdor.
The sun had started to rise, the fog clearing when the spires of the castle finally came into view. The grounds around the castle were encamped.
“Lord Banquo! Lord Banquo,” the men called in excited cheer when Banquo passed by.
I kept my head low and rode on.
The castle gates were open, and many of the Moray
chieftains were inside waiting.
“Lord Banquo,” they called when they saw him.
Banquo and I rode to a stop.
“I’ll go inside,” I told Banquo. “I’ll return as soon as I can.”
I turned to dismount only to find Standish there, his hand outstretched to help me down. Our eyes met through the visor. He knew.
“I’d know that helmet anywhere,” he whispered. “Are you unharmed?”
“I’m all right.”
“I almost turned the castle inside out looking for you. But then I saw…”
“Saw what?”
Standish shifted nervously then eyed the ramparts. “The Red Lady,” he said in a whisper. “I told the maids not to worry, but you best go inside and let them tend to you before anyone else realizes.”
“Thank you, Standish.”
“And if I ever see you try to sneak off like that again, my lady, I’ll tan your hide—Red Lady or no. My poor heart can’t take it.”
I smiled softly. “I’m sorry,” I said, and I honestly was. I had hoped he wouldn’t realize I was gone.
He nodded then turned to the blood bay. “Where is Kelpie?”
I shook my head and forced back my tears. “I don’t know. Let’s pray he finds his way home.”
Standish sighed. “He’s a strong horse and a smart one. He’ll find his way. In the meantime, I’ll take this young man off your hands. What a bloody brute he is,” he said, glancing at the bay whose coat sparkled red in the morning sunlight.
I patted the horse on the nose, nodded to Standish, then headed into the castle.
Trying to go unseen, I moved quickly through the crowd and headed to my chambers. Inside, I heard Tira and Rhona arguing.
When I opened the door, both women stopped.
Tira scowled. “Get away, you. Lady Gruoch is not within, and you have no business here.”
Rhona’s eyes widened. “Tira. Look. The sword,” she said, pointing to Uald’s Gift. She grabbed my arm and pulled me inside, shutting and bolting the door behind me.
I slipped off Gillacoemgain’s helmet.
“My lady!” Tira exclaimed. “Oh, by the Great Mother, look at you. Are you hurt?”
“No, but I need to get cleaned up. There is much to do.”
Rhona shook her head. I couldn’t help but notice her cheeks had turned red. “Part of me wants to slap you, my lady. I’m doing my best to hold myself back.”
“I wouldn’t risk it,” Tira warned her companion. “From the looks of our lady, she just murdered the entire southern army on her own.”
“Not the whole army, just the king.”
Tira tittered nervously, but Rhona met my eyes.
I inclined my head to her.
She returned the gesture.
Tira blew air through her lips, tossed her hands in the air, then turned and pulled out the washbasin. “No sense arguing about it. It’s done now. We need to get her cleaned up before anyone else realizes our lady is mad enough to ride out onto the battlefield like she’s Boudicca.”
“Ah, but there you’re wrong,” I told her.
“Wrong?”
“Boudicca did not survive. I have won the day.”
Chapter 2
Tira and Rhona helped me bathe, washing the blood and bits off. Neither said a word, but I knew what they were thinking. I was sorry that they had to see this. I couldn’t imagine any other lady’s maids suffering through as much as they did.
“All those inches,” Rhona said as she rinsed the last of the soap out of my hair, fingering my chin-length locks.
“They’ll grow back,” I said absently. My eyes closed, I relished the feel of the warm water. Every part of me hurt. The muscles in my arms and legs felt like they were made of stone. And my head felt dizzy. Nausea, from the heat of the water or the exhaustion—I wasn’t sure which—crept over me.
“Not in time for the crowning. What will Lady Madelaine say? And look at you, covered in bruises. You’ll need a long-sleeved gown. And there’s no hiding the bruise on your cheek,” Rhona chided.
“It doesn’t matter.”
Rhona clicked her tongue, a sound I’d heard her make a thousand times at Fleance and Lulach, but said nothing.
There was a soft knock on the door. Tira went to answer. She spoke in low tones, and a moment later, Morag entered.
“Well, here is the shield-maiden returned from the battle,” she said then sat down on my bed.
“Have you come to scold me too?” I asked.
“No, I’m just jealous. I had half a mind to slip out myself.”
I chuckled.
“Don’t encourage her,” Rhona said.
“Oh, that one doesn’t need encouragement,” Morag said with a laugh.
Tira huffed heavily. “Let me lay out a dress.”
Rhona handed me a towel and helped me out of the basin. I sat down on a stool in front of the fire while Rhona set about tossing out the wash water. The girls had done their best to clean me up, but when I looked at my hands, I was surprised to see there were still spots of blood on them. I picked up a washing cloth and began to work at the stains. They wouldn’t budge. I poured a bit of oil on the fabric and rubbed more. The effort turned the back of my hands red, but still, the splattered spots of blood remained.
“Rhona, do we have any stronger soap?” I asked.
She looked back at me. “My lady?”
“These spots of blood won’t come out,” I said, working the rag on my hands.
“My lady, you’re rubbing yourself raw. Here, let me have a look,” Tira said. She laid the dress she was holding on my bed then crossed the room and took my hands. She turned them over, took my washing cloth, then worked on my fingernails a bit. “There, that’s better,” she said then handed the cloth back to me.
“But…but here,” I said, motioning to the splatters of blood I saw on the back and palms of my hands. “And here.”
Tira looked at my hands. “Just shadows from the fire, my lady. There’s nothing there. Stop scrubbing. You’re making your skin red.”
My brow furrowed, I looked at my hands. The spots were plain as day. I turned to call Tira back, but my eyes met Morag’s.
She shook her head.
Frowning, I looked back at my hands once more. Scarlet marred my palms, fingers, and the backs of my hands. This was no trick of the light. I rose and went to the window, catching the sunlight on my hands. They were there. Everywhere.
“Don’t you see?” I asked, showing my hands to Rhona.
Rhona glanced briefly at me. “No, my lady. There is nothing there.”
“You’re just tired, my lady. No doubt your eyes are swimming. Come along now and get dressed. I am sure there are a hundred dispatches and just as many men waiting on you below,” Tira said.
I turned to Morag.
“It will pass,” she told me.
It will pass. The girls were right. I was tired, and my eyes were playing tricks on me.
I crossed the room and let Tira redress me. She’d pulled a dark blue gown from the wardrobe. It was a pretty velvet dress with silver trim on the collar. I put my torcs and amulet back on. Lifting my belt, I re-sheathed Scáthach then lifted the dagger with the raven on the hilt, the dagger I had taken from Duncan, my father’s blade. I turned it over in my hand, remembering Uald describing it. But I remembered more. I remembered it on my father’s belt. The memory had been lost, but with the blade in my possession, it returned once more. I remembered hugging my father when I was just a girl. The beak of the raven had scraped my cheek.
“Now,Macha,” my father had said, scolding the dagger. “Be kind to my daughter.”
“Macha?” I’d asked.
My father had nodded. “The raven goddess. I keep her here at my side,” he’d said with a wide grin.
I clutched the dagger. How strange it was that some memories lay buried, unleashed by the smallest things. My father had carried a raven with him. The irony wasn’t lost on me. I went to my trunk and
found a spare sheath for the blade. It wasn’t a perfect fit, but it would have to do for now. When I returned to the coven, I would ask Uald to make me another. I added the blade to my belt alongside Scáthach.
“Thank you. I’ll go down now.”
“My lady,” Morag said, rising slowly. “Lulach and Fleance…”
She let the question hang unasked in the air.
“They are safe, but hidden, and will remain so until things are quiet.”
“Let’s hope that day comes.”
She was right about that. I inclined my head to her. “Then I had best get to work to see that it does.”
I slipped down the steps and headed to my council chamber. The place was packed with people. Banquo was at the head of the table talking to some of the other Thanes. Both the younger and elder Ross were in attendance.
“Lady Gruoch,” someone called when I entered.
The men cheered, banging their ale horns and weapons.
I nodded to them. “Gentlemen, my greetings and congratulations on this victory.”
The men cheered.
As I crossed the room, I heard whispers in the crowd.
“Look at the Lady Gruoch’s hair,” someone said.
“A battle sacrifice?”
“No. There is talk amongst the men. They say she was on the field.”
“No. It cannot be.”
“No? Look at her face. The bruise.”
“Some say they saw Gillacoemgain’s ghost amongst the men.”
“Strange omens.”
Ignoring the talk, I went to Banquo who handed me the first of many scrolls in his hand.
Shaking my head, I took Banquo aside. “Malcolm and Donaldbane. What did Macbeth arrange?”
“As far as I know, nothing.”
“Then he’s let two adders free who can return to strike us.”
Banquo nodded.
“Malcolm was with his father at court. Perhaps he retreated with Suthen. We need to find out for certain. Many will try to use those boys, to set them against Macbeth and me. I will see them safely fostered in friendly hands,” I said.
“Away from Earl Siward.”
I nodded. “They are as much my kin as his. I must have them fostered by those who would not teach them to seek vengeance now…or later.” Unless I acted now, it would be Lulach who would have to deal with his unruly cousins backed by a Northumbrian army. I needed to do what I could to stop the bad blood from boiling.
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