“Praised may they be,” I whispered again then drank the wine knowing that what I was seeing was not possible. And even though it was not possible, the spots of blood remained.
Chapter 7
The next day, we rose at sunrise and set off on the road once more. Unlike Duncan, we would not call all the lords and ladies from far and wide to come and lick our boots. They could come or not. It was up to them. Macbeth would be crowned, I alongside him, because we had won the battle. The rest would be settled one of three ways: by words, coin, or steel.
I had expected Scone to be silent as we rode toward the abbey. What met us, however, was far different.
The first sound was that of the pipers. The music caught me off guard. The blood bay twitched his ears, straining to listen. First, I heard the pipes, then drums, then horns. As we rode over a rise, a crowd greeted us. The joyful sound of the bagpipes filled the air. The people lined the streets to welcome us. Cheering, they threw flowers in our path and called our names.
“Lady Gruoch…Lord Macbeth…Look, there’s the Lady of Moray…Lord Banquo…Queen Gruoch…King Macbeth.”
King Macbeth.
Queen Gruoch.
Duncan had not been a popular ruler. He hadn’t shown much interest in his people other than collecting taxes from them and sending them to war when it pleased him. Duncan’s costly and unsuccessful wars against his cousins in the north had hurt the southern provinces. Perhaps I had underestimated how much.
Leaving the army encamped around the city, we rode on with a large contingent to the abbey. There, we were met by the sentinel who spoke to Banquo at length.
Macbeth reined his horse in beside me but did not speak.
After a few moments, Banquo joined us. “You were expected. They’re ready for you and whatever lords and ladies will be in attendance. There are people waiting to see you both already.”
Macbeth turned to me. “We must arrange a workroom.”
“Arrange yourself as you will,” I said then dismounted. I patted the blood bay’s neck then passed his reins to a waiting groom.
“My lady, we have prepared chambers for you, your maids, and Lord Lulach,” a footman told me, straining to look, presumably, for Lulach.
“Tira, Rhona, please see to the chambers, and get some rest,” I told my maids.
“Yes, my lady,” Rhona said.
“Yes, my lady,” Tira agreed.
I turned back to the attendant. “I need my own, private meeting space. I’ll need to have an audience with any messengers who’ve come to see me.”
“Oh. Yes, my lady,” the man said, looking surprised. He turned to a page beside him. He said something in a low tone to the boy who sprinted off like his trousers were on fire.
“My lord,” another attendant said, motioning for Macbeth to follow him. “If you will come with me, I will show you to your council chambers.”
Macbeth signaled to the man to wait a moment. Dismounting, he stepped toward me as if he wanted to say something in private. I recoiled at the thought of having him so close to me. Involuntarily, I stepped back.
Noticing the gesture, Macbeth froze. I saw him master whatever emotion briefly crossed his face, and then he said, “It will be better if we share a counsel chamber.”
“When necessary,” I replied. “Only when necessary.”
Macbeth clenched his jaw. “Fine,” he spat. His temper making his cheeks turn red, he turned and stalked away.
I caught Banquo’s eye. He frowned. “Lady Gruoch, I must see to the men. Do you need anything else here?” Banquo asked.
“No, Thane. I seem to be in good hands.”
Banquo smiled at me. “Then I will see to you soon. The Moray guard will stay with you.”
I nodded to Banquo who mounted his horse.
I turned back to the attendant.
“Lady Gruoch, if you will come this way,” the man said, gesturing.
Motioning to the Moray men, I turned and followed the man back into the abbey.
It was strange to walk the same halls I traversed when I’d come to see Duncan crowned. Everything had been about pageantry. Beautiful lords and ladies roamed the halls looking like walking decorations. The place had been adorned with flowers, garland, and silks. Now, everywhere I looked, I saw steel. Macbeth and I had won through bloodshed.
But the difference was a good thing.
I had no use for frills and false faces and endless discussions on the weather.
England was unsettled.
The southern Scottish lords were unsettled.
Our people were poor and uneducated.
The country was weak in commerce.
Duncan had made no allies abroad save England.
There was much work to be done.
The attendant led me to a chamber where servants were busy shifting tables, building up the fire, or washing down furniture.
“Will this suit you, Lady Gruoch?” the man asked.
I eyed the place. There were two doors, one that entered by the main hallway and another at the back of the room.
“Where does that door go?” I asked. I motioned for one of the Moray men to investigate.
“To the hallway on the west side of the abbey,” the attendant said.
“You said I had messages? Riders?”
“Yes, my lady,” he said then turned and motioned to two boys who carried satchels full of scrolls.
“Anything from Fife?” I asked.
“No, my lady, but there is a special envoy waiting for you—in particular.”
“An envoy?”
“From Que—Lady Suthen.”
“Bring them in,” I said.
“But, my lady, you’ve just come in from the road. Surely, they can wait until you’ve taken some refreshment, some rest…”
“I said bring them in,” I repeated, my voice sharp.
The man nodded. “I’ll go get them now.”
I turned to the Moray men. “Killian, check everyone for weapons. No one comes in without being disarmed.”
“Yes, my lady.”
A table had been set at the front of the room. A maid busily washed it down while the others finished setting up the space. I went to the girl.
“Lass, I know you’re busy, but will you see to it some refreshment is brought for my men. Some ale and bread. Whatever there is to be had.”
The girl paused mid-wipe and looked up at me, her eyes wide. “Ye-yes, my lady. Of course.”
“Thank you,” I told her.
The girl quickly mopped the water off the table then turned and ran off.
I turned and looked around the room. The chamber, which only a few moments ago had been a hodgepodge of chairs and tables, had already started to look like a formal meeting hall. I went to the hearth. There was a bright, cheery glow in the fire. I grabbed a chair and slid it toward the fireplace.
“Lady Gruoch,” one of the servants called, rushing to my side. He grabbed the chair. “Please, allow me.”
“I was just moving it closer to the fire. I still have some chill from the road,” I told the lad who stared at me.
“Of course. But let me. You shouldn’t be lifting chairs, my lady,” the boy said, gently taking the chair from my hands and setting it before the fireplace.
The two maids who’d been working on the fire quickly tidied up the kindling then rose, scrambling to get out of the way.
“My lady,” the boy said, adjusting the chair for me.
I looked from him to the maids. A half-laugh bubbled from my lips.
“My lady?” the boy whispered. “Is there anything wrong?”
The two maids looked at one another, worry in their eyes.
I shook my head. “No. Nothing at all. It’s only…my gods…do they really not move their own chairs? How absurd. No wonder my father was never at court. Thank you all for your quick and hard work. The room looks wonderful, and the hearth is warm. Thank you all so much.”
The servants looked at one another, seemi
ng unsure what to say.
“My lady,” the first maid said, bobbing a curtsey which the second maid awkwardly mirrored. The pair rushed from the room.
I smiled at the boy who’d helped me with my seat.
“My lady. I’m not sure if I should offer to help with anything else or not,” he said with a smile.
“I’m well. Thank you. What is your name, lad?”
“Gordon, my lady.”
“Thank you, Gordon. You moved the chair most excellently.”
The Moray guard chuckled lightly.
I lowered myself into the seat and looked at the fire. Madelaine. Madelaine needed to come soon because there was no way I was going to be able to navigate this alone. I closed my eyes, feeling the warmth of the fire on my face. My back ached. It felt good to sit.
I would be queen.
This was how queens were treated.
This was how other queens were treated. Not me.
“My lady,” the attendant called.
I opened my eyes to see a group of three well-dressed men at the door. They frowned, their expressions sour, as Killian disarmed them.
The attendant crossed the room, the two pages following along behind him. “These boys will run messages, errands as needed. I will send a secretary as soon as I can find one.”
I shook my head. “No need. These boys will do for now.”
“Oh. Well. Very good. I will go see to Lord Macbeth now.”
“Is his council chamber close by?”
The attendant nodded. “Down the hall, two rights, then on the left. But he is not there at the moment. He’s retired to his chamber to take some rest.”
Of course. “I see.”
“The envoy,” the man said, motioning to Suthen’s men.
I nodded. “Thank you.”
At that, the attendant left.
Rising, I went to the men.
“Gentlemen, please come and take a seat by the fire,” I said.
At that, Gordon, who’d been standing nearby, still uncertain about what he should be doing, leaped into action. Working quickly, he moved other seats near the hearth. When he caught my eye, he smiled.
“Lady Gruoch, it is good of you to see us. I am Wattles, special counselor to Que—Lady Suthen. My companions, Sir Lamont and Lord Billingsly,” he said, motioning to the others.
“Please, gentlemen, take your rest. I apologize for the delay, we’ve only just arrived.”
“Yes, my lady,” Sir Lamont said. I heard the tone of annoyance in his voice. He eyed me over, glancing at my armor with disgust on his face.
I set my hand on the hilt of Uald’s Gift.
The move caught the man’s attention.
Sir Lamont, who was undoubtedly part of Lord Siward’s entourage, met my gaze. I held his glance until he looked away.
“Kind of you, so kind of you,” Lord Billingsly said as he took his seat.
I motioned for the others to sit. I also took my seat near the fire. Killian and three other guards took positions not far from me. I cast a glance around the room. Both doors were now guarded, and the rest of the men were stationed around the hall. No matter how Sir Lamont felt about me, he undoubtedly would not tempt steel.
“My lady,” Wattles began, “Lady Suthen implored us to come to Scone to appeal to you directly. War is fought between men. Mothers cherish something quite different. Young Malcolm is with his mother, but Donaldbane…” he said then paused, waiting to see what I already knew.
“He’s not with his mother as well?” I asked, the lie making my mouth feel dry.
“No, my lady. Perhaps you don’t know. Young Donaldbane showed an interest in godly things. He was in Iona studying with the holy brothers. He was abducted from Iona by the Irish king. Lady Suthen has sent us to ask for your help in getting her son back.”
I raised an eyebrow then turned to the fire. “And why doesn’t Earl Siward send an envoy? Perhaps Harthacnut can be of help.”
Sir Lamont exhaled heavily but said nothing.
“The Irish king has no interest in what Suthen has to offer. And Earl Siward…. To be frank, my lady, Earl Siward is not presently in a position to be of use to the Irish king. Whereas, you….” Lord Billingsly opened his hands wide to indicate the matter was obvious.
“Lady Suthen spoke highly of you, Lady Gruoch,” Wattles said. “She asked me to send her personal pleas, one mother to another, with a soft reminder that Donaldbane is your second cousin.”
I nodded then considered their words. I had no doubt that Suthen worried for her son, but there were other cards being played here. If I delivered Donaldbane to Suthen, I might as well cut Lulach’s throat. But if I rescued him and fostered the boy myself, then Suthen’s son would be raised as an ally to Lulach. Suthen wanted her son safe, but there were many different kinds of safety. One way or another, she would see one of her two boys close to the throne. Suthen knew that if I fostered Donaldbane, he would still have a chance even if Siward never managed to topple Macbeth and me.
“Please assure Lady Suthen that I will do my best to see to Donaldbane’s safe return. I understand her well and will do what I can. Tell Lady Suthen that I will send word as soon as I have news of her son.”
“I wish all troubles could be handled with such ease and grace,” Wattles said.
Lord Billingsly nodded vigorously in agreement.
Sir Lamont continued to look dour.
“Well, perhaps if we had more queens ruling, they would be,” I said. “My men will see you out.”
At that, Wattles and Lord Billingsly rose, both of them bowing to me. Sir Lamont gave the briefest of nods then turned to go. The Moray men escorted them back to the door. I stood and watched as the gentlemen were escorted down the hall and away from the meeting room.
The door at the back of the hall opened and three maids carrying trays heaped with food—cheese, bread, and meat—and tankards of ale entered. My stomach growled hungrily.
“Come, Moray,” I called to the men. “It was a long ride to hear news on an empty stomach.”
“Aye, let’s see if the ale tastes any different under a new king,” one of the soldiers said.
“Under a new queen,” another corrected.
“Sirs,” one of the maids said, passing the drinks around. “Help yourselves. There’s plenty more.”
“Suppose they’d try to poison us?” one of the soldiers asked, sniffing the drink.
I looked at the maid who had gone absolutely pale at the suggestion. “No. Of course not. I poured it with my own hand and…and had a drink myself to steady my nerves.”
I chuckled. “And she looks quite well. I think we’re safe.” I lifted one of the tankards. “What shall we toast?” I asked the others.
“You, my lady,” Killian said, taking a tankard. “To our new queen, who will be a fair and just ruler.”
I inclined my head to him.
“To Queen Gruoch,” Killian called.
“To Queen Gruoch,” the men answered.
I lifted the tankard and took a sip. When I did so, I felt eyes on me. I lifted my gaze for just a moment to see Killian studying me, his dark blue eyes resting on my face. He smiled softly, raised his cup in toast, and took a drink.
Surprising even myself, my stomach twinged with girlish softness in response to his heavy gaze. He was handsome, but I was married three times over. It hardly mattered how attractive he was.
My cheeks flushed red.
Really, Gruoch. How absurd, I chided myself.
But the thought lingered nonetheless.
Chapter 8
In the days that followed, we settled in and began our preparations for the crowning. With the place bustling with news and people—most of whom I did not know and did not trust—I was relieved when the first of two very welcomed visitors arrived.
There was a knock on the door followed by the call, “Corbie?”
A moment later, Madelaine pushed opened the door and rushed into the room, an excited smile on her face
.
Outside my door, I caught sight of Killian who gave me a knowing wink then closed the door behind her.
“Lady Madelaine,” Tira said, then curtsied.
Rhona, who had been in the adjoining room, joined us. “My lady.”
“What a welcome sight you all are,” Madelaine said as she wrapped her arms around me, pulling me into a tight squeeze. “Corbie! Your hair,” she said when she pulled back. She touched my short locks. “What happened?”
“For the Morrigu.”
“I won’t begrudge the dark lady her sacrifice, but now we’ll have to work some magic of our own for the coronation. Oh, my little raven. Now, where is Lulach?” Madelaine asked, looking around, a confused expression on her face.
“My lady, shall Tira and I bring you and Lady Madelaine some refreshment?” Rhona asked, motioning to Tira. Clearly, Rhona understood I needed to speak privately with Madelaine.
I nodded. “Yes. Please.”
Tira looked a bit confused, but Rhona dragged her out the door behind her.
I went to the window and looked out. The yard was busy. As much as I had hoped that the crowning would end quickly, and I could return to Cawdor—with Banquo—it was beginning to look like the politics of the country were sloshing their way toward me. I was surrounded by news and need. Every day, visitors arrived to meet with Macbeth or me. There was struggle, hunger, and strife in every corner of Scotland. Dealing with all of it was exhausting. What Duncan had been doing all these years, I had no idea. But he had not been ruling. At least, not well.
“Lulach isn’t here,” I told Madelaine.
“Where is he?”
“I sent him to Balor. Lulach and Fleance will stay amongst the druids until things are settled.”
“Hmm,” Madelaine mused.
I turned and looked at her. “Was it the wrong decision?”
She shook her head. “No. Keep him hidden. Boite disappeared for a time as a boy as well. Our mother saw to that. But Kenneth would not let Malcolm go. The men they later became is evidence of their upbringing. This is good for Lulach. Besides, you will have enough to manage without tending to Lulach and Fleance as well.”
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