Highland Vengeance

by Melanie Karsak

  Frowning, I rose. Working slowly, I packed my things and got ready to travel south.

  * * *

  That night, we feasted with Thorfinn and the others in the hall. Macbeth neither spoke nor looked at Banquo. Thorfinn tried to keep up the cheer, but the room seemed more subdued than usual. Merna and Banquo departed as soon as they had eaten. Not long after, I also said my farewells, leaving Macbeth, who’d seemed not to notice, behind.

  I was walking back to my house when the skald Anor joined me.

  “Lady, I am sorry to see you depart. And I’m even more sorry to hear of your woes.”

  “Thank you, Anor.”

  “You must not trouble yourself with worries of legacy, my lady. Lord Lulach is a fine boy and will grow into a strong and wise man. And a man of our faith, I think.”

  I paused then looked at him. “What have you seen?”

  Anor cast a glance over his shoulder.

  “It’s all right,” I said.

  “Lord Macbeth will have no rightful heir save Lulach. You must not trouble yourself, my lady, if you cannot conceive his child. The gods have willed it.”

  “And my son?”

  “In my visions, I have seen him on a throne. But around his head, I see a crown of mistletoe. More I cannot see.”

  A druid king. My heart lurched. But druid kings were often year kings, sacrificed to the slaughter when the year ended. There was no way to know what the skald had seen. I would press Andraste on the issue.

  “Thank you, Anor.”

  He bowed to me. “Jarl Thorfinn thinks I know things before they pass because I am a spy. It is merely Odin speaking through me.”

  “Bring him news of Ingibjorg. That, no doubt, will win you some favor.”

  Anor laughed. “You are right, my lady. The only time Lord Thorfinn was ever pleased with me was when I told him he would win his bride.”

  “Indeed? And when will that come to pass?”

  “When Macbeth becomes king.”

  “When?”

  “Ask your red lady,” he said with a smile. “I wish you safe journeys south, Lady Gruoch.”

  “Thank you. May the gods bless you.”

  “And you.”

  * * *

  We sailed the following morning. Thorfinn and Macbeth stood on the dock beside me as Banquo and Merna prepared to board their ship.

  “I hope to see you again soon,” Merna said, hugging me in farewell. Lulach, whom I was holding, giggled at being squished between us.

  When she let me go, Morag embraced me. “My lady, take care.”

  I smiled at them. “I shall miss you both. And you, little Fleance,” I told the boy who made a silly face at me, making me laugh. Slipping from Merna’s grasp, he rushed off. Merna turned and raced after him.

  “Lady Macbeth,” Banquo said, giving me a formal bow.

  Lady Macbeth. What a cursed name. “Thane,” I said, nodding to him. “Safe voyage to you and yours. We will see you soon, I hope.”

  If things remained cold between Macbeth and Banquo, it might be a long time.

  With a nod, Banquo turned to go.

  “Baaaannccc,” Lulach screamed at him.

  Taking a step back, Banquo leaned in and kissed Lulach on the cheek. “Be a good boy. Watch over your mother,” he said, his eyes resting on mine for a moment before he turned once more.

  I love you. I love you. I love you. I willed him to hear the words that hung unspoken in the air.

  Snatching Fleance from Merna’s grasp, Banquo turned to go. Merna, Fleance, Banquo, and Morag boarded their ship.

  “Lady Macbeth,” Thorfinn said, wrapping an arm around me. “We shall see you next spring, I hope.”

  “Thank you for your hospitality.”

  He nodded kindly, but there was sadness behind his eyes.

  I whistled to Thora, who bounded down the dock toward me. “No more playing wolf pack. Let’s go,” I said, turning to look at Ute who stood staring glassy-eyed behind me. With a nod to Thorfinn, we boarded our own ship.

  Thorfinn and Macbeth stayed behind a few moments more. Thorfinn was telling Macbeth something. My husband, such as he was, stood listening, his arms crossed, nodding on occasion. When Thorfinn finished speaking, they both looked up at me.

  I frowned and took a spot along the rail out of the way. Not long after, Macbeth boarded the ship.

  We headed out to sea, sailing once more to Inverness.

  And not once did my husband either speak to or look at me.

  And I was glad.

  Chapter 27

  We returned to Inverness with little fanfare. At once, I sent a rider south to Madelaine asking to make a visit. Within the week, a rider returned with an invitation and a bubbly letter from Madelaine who was brimming with excitement at the prospect of seeing me.

  I had not seen Macbeth more than in passing since we’d returned. When word came from Madelaine, I sought him out for the first time. Not finding him in this chambers or the hall, I headed to the stables. I had neglected Kelpie all this time and had missed him during my time away.

  The stables were quiet. Some of the horses were out. Either Samuel had them out exercising or Macbeth had everyone on a hunt.

  That would be a very courtly thing to do.

  I set my husband from my mind and chatted with the horses as I made my way through the stable. Finally catching the sound of my voice, Kelpie started nickering and kicked his gate. Along with his noisy hello, I also caught the sound of whispering and a few moments later, Elspeth climbed down from the hayloft above. Her cheeks were flushed red and she had an odd air about her. The boards overhead creaked. Ahh. Pretending I didn’t notice she had a lover stashed away, I smiled nicely at her.

  “Lady Gruoch,” she said politely, pushing her hair back. “Someone is excited to see you,” she said, motioning to Kelpie who was neighing loudly.

  I chuckled. “So it seems.”

  “I’ve kept him exercised. Had him out almost every day. He’s such a strong beast,” she said then smiled.

  I went to Kelpie, patting him on his nose. “How about a ride, old friend?” I said, hugging his neck.

  “I’ve got something to show you,” Elspeth said, waving me along behind her. We headed out to the pasture where some of the other horses were grazing. “Look there, the white mare. See how round she is?”

  “Kelpie’s?”

  She nodded. “I think so, at least. He wouldn’t let any of the other horses near her. I put him in his pen this morning because he’s been picking at the other stallions. He trying to keep his herd in line, I think.”

  “Grumpy old man,” I said with a laugh, looking back at him.

  When I did, I caught just the flash of a coattail turning the corner out of the barn.

  I coughed lightly and pretended I had not seen Elspeth’s lover making a hasty escape.

  “I’ll be heading south soon. He’ll get his exercise then.”

  “Indeed? I didn’t know.”

  “Word has just come,” I said, tapping the scroll on my hand. “I still need to make the arrangements. Have you seen Lord Macbeth?”

  “No, my lady,” she said softly, turning to pick up some grain buckets.

  “Very well. Thank you for taking such good care of my horse.”

  “Of course,” she said. Her eyes downcast, she gave me a little curtsey.

  Turning, I headed back inside.

  I was surprised to find Macbeth in the great hall. He was pouring himself a mug of ale.

  “Gruoch,” he said as I approached. He ran his fingers through his hair.

  I handed the scroll to him. “I’ll ride south, and stay south, until the weather turns,” I said then turned and walked away.

  “Maybe we should discuss—”

  The raven sneered at him. “There is nothing to discuss. I will ride south and stay south until the weather turns,” I said then turned on my heel and stormed out of the hall.

  When I returned to my chambers, I found Ute and Lulach
playing with a wooden top. Ute’s face looked drawn, a sad expression thereon.

  “I’ve had word from Madelaine. I will ride south. Are you well enough to travel?” I asked Ute.

  A look of relief washed over her face. “Oh yes, my lady.”

  “Very good. We’ll leave in the morning,” I said then set about getting ready. I sent footmen to the kitchens, stables, and asked Macbeth’s guard to speak to his lord about assigning me four men to accompany me on the trip. By the time I was done, I had everything ready and it was time for bed.

  I lay down that night with Lulach beside me, a small hope in my heart that Macbeth would come to me and ask my forgiveness. Would say something. Would make some gesture.

  But that night, I slept alone.

  I woke early the next morning. Ute, Lulach, and I dressed for the road. Thora trotted around excitedly. Kelpie had been saddled, as had a horse for Ute. A mule carried what small supplies I had requested to take with me south. A small group of guards had been assembled to ride with us. It was an unusually warm morning.

  A footman rushed out of the castle. He handed me a letter. “A scroll for Fife. Lord Macbeth wishes you a safe trip, my lady.”

  “Does he?”

  I looked back at the castle. Macbeth was nowhere to be seen.

  Angry, I clicked to Kelpie. Lulach seated on the saddle in front of me, and lashed to me for safe keeping, I turned and headed south, swearing I would never speak another word to Macbeth again.

  Chapter 28

  The ride was long but without consequence. When we finally arrived at Madelaine’s castle, I discovered Fife was away.

  “He’s in Edinburgh,” Madelaine said, taking Lulach from my arms as I dismounted. “There’s trouble with Norway,” she added in a low tone. “But no matter. Let’s get Macbeth’s men provisioned and back on their way. How big you are, Lulach,” Madelaine chirped happily, kissing a very sleepy Lulach. “And how much he looks like you, Cerridwen. Ah! I see Gillacoemgain in his brow and chin,” she said, tickling Lulach’s chin to make him smile.

  I smiled lightly. What could I say? It was lucky that Lulach had some features that resembled Gillacoemgain. It made the deception easier.

  “Gruoch,” Tavis called happily, crossing the lawn to embrace me. “Good to have you home.”

  “If just for a day. We’ll be off again tomorrow. Will you see to the preparations?” Madelaine said.

  Tavis nodded. “Of course.”

  “Off? Off where?” Ute asked, her voice sounding nervous.

  “To our holy sisters,” Madelaine answered.

  “Oh,” Ute said softly.

  “I think you’ll be comfortable here with Madelaine’s household. Madelaine and I will take Lulach with us. You can get some rest,” I told her. “Will that be all right?”

  “Yes, my lady. I would like that.”

  “You will be safe here,” I said softly. As I’d reflected on Ute’s behavior, it had occurred to me that maybe she had rid herself of her child because some mischief had been done to her. Her sadness reminded me of myself when I was so misused. I cared deeply for Ute, but I didn’t know how to ask. And if I was wrong, it could cause her terrible embarrassment. It was better if I just let the matter lie until Ute was ready.

  She nodded. “Thank you, my lady.”

  We rested that night, and in the morning, Lulach, Madelaine, Tavis and I journeyed to the coven. Thora pranced around excitedly, racing ahead at every chance, rushing back time and time again as if to hurry us along. We rode until we reached Tavis’s usual camp spot.

  “You sure you’ll be all right?” Madelaine asked him.

  “I’ll be hunting. Maybe…Uald will come join me.”

  Madelaine smiled. “I’ll let her know,” she said then leaned in and kissed him.

  Tavis cupped Madelaine’s cheek then kissed her once more. “Be safe,” he whispered.

  “You too.”

  I waved farewell to Tavis, then Madelaine, Lulach, and I—and an impatient Thora—made our way deeper into the forest.

  “He should just join us,” I said. “After all these years, the coven is no secret to him. Ask Epona. I am sure she will consent.”

  Madelaine nodded then sighed. “Epona is not the problem. In fact, Tavis and Uald are old friends at this point. It is Tavis who will not agree to it.”

  “Why not?”

  “Holy ground. Sacred space. He says he is no druid, so he stays away.”

  “His stubbornness is going to earn him frostbite one of these times.”

  Madelaine laughed. “I’ll be sure to tell him you said that.”

  I grinned.

  As we rode through the hidden pass into the coven, all concerns about Macbeth fell away as I focused on a single thought: Crearwy.

  At last, I would have both my children with me.

  Anticipating our arrival, Epona and Uald met us in the square.

  “Sisters,” Epona called and came forward. Madelaine’s face flashed with the same surprise as mine. Epona looked older. Around her eyes, little wrinkles reached out with spiderweb hands. Her mouth showed all her years of smiling, her laugh lines deep, as were the grooves on her forehead. Epona was aging. All this time she had seemed to be frozen around the age of thirty. Now she looked nearly twice that. It was chilling to consider why.

  Uald helped Madelaine dismount then embraced her.

  “Well met,” Epona told me then kissed Lulach on his forehead. “How much he’s grown. And how like his sister!”

  “Corbie,” Uald said, smiling at me. “And Lulach.”

  Kelpie nickered at her.

  “Yes, you old goat, I haven’t forgotten you,” she said, patting Kelpie on his nose. “Come along, you grumpy old beast. You too, Thora. I have a bone for you somewhere,” Uald said then took Kelpie’s reins from my hands.

  Madelaine gave me a little wave then went with Uald. Thora trotted along behind her.

  My eyes scanned the coven very quickly. No one else was up and about. The windows of Sid’s house were dark. I hoped the faerie would tell her I was there. I cast a look toward Bride’s house, feeling sad that I had not had a chance to say goodbye. I was surprised to see puffs of smoke coming from her chimney.

  “You will be anxious to see Crearwy,” Epona said.

  I nodded.

  “May has gone to the stream to bathe. She took Crearwy with her. They will be back directly. “

  “Sid told me that Bride passed away,” I said.

  Epona nodded. “We were very sorry to lose her, but the Crone called. She went peacefully. Tully was here. She brought a young woman who has taken the name Juno. You will like her. She also belongs to the Dark Goddesses. We expect Tully to return soon with two more girls. It is getting more difficult to find families willing to send their daughters for training. The world is changing,” Epona said sadly then looked at Lulach once more. “Come, let’s get you inside. Lulach looks like he could use a biscuit.”

  “Eat,” Lulach said. “Me eat.”

  Epona chuckled. “Clever boy.”

  “And how are Inverness and Macbeth? My, it’s chilly,” Epona said, pulling her shawl around her. Once inside, she rummaged through her cabinet, returning with a biscuit for Lulach.

  I studied Epona closely. There was no chill in the air, and Epona’s house was overly warm.

  “I confess, I don’t know what to say. I started the marriage hopeful, but…”

  “But?”

  “But Macbeth is not Gillacoemgain. I had visions of Macbeth long before I even knew who he was. And Andraste, that old riddler, had once called him my king. But he’s not what I expected.”

  Epona poured us both a goblet of wine then sat back in her seat and looked thoughtful. “You saw Macbeth in the cauldron?”

  “Yes.”

  Epona frowned heavily, drank her goblet of wine, then rose and stood by the fire. “It is no secret that Andraste and I do not see eye-to-eye on many matters, including her over-involvement in things—including
conjuring visions. But the Wyrds are kingmakers.”

  I stared at Epona. “What do you mean?”

  “Do you like Macbeth? Is he a good man?”

  I clutched Lulach tighter and pressed my cheek against his head. Epona always had a way of putting things that made the truth clear. “No,” I whispered.

  Epona nodded. “But you gave him a chance?”

  “Yes.”

  “Why?”

  “Because…”

  “Because Andraste told you he was your king and because you saw him in your cauldron.”

  “Are you saying—”

  “You know what I am saying.”

  I frowned heavily. “Epona, what should I—”

  But my words were cut short when the door to Epona’s cabin opened. A little hand held onto the doorframe as the little body that went with it struggled to pull herself up and into the room. I stared as my baby entered then rose slowly.

  Epona lifted Lulach from my arms. “Come, let’s get you another biscuit, Lulach.”

  Taking her other hand to help her along, May assisted Crearwy into the room. The girl had very dark hair, dark blue eyes, and pale skin. She looked just like Lulach and me. Yet in her brow, her chin, I saw Gillacoemgain. I gaped as I looked at her. She was a miniature doppelganger of Crearwy, Gillacoemgain’s sister, for whom she was named. I tried to hold all of the emotions in, but tears welled in my eyes. I kneeled down and held out my hands to her. “Hello, Crearwy,” I whispered.

  She looked uncertain, casting a glance to May for reassurance. The idea that she needed the approval of a stranger to come to her mother startled and saddened me. May nodded to her, and tepidly, the girl came to me.

  “Dat one? Mum. Mum? Mum! Dat one?” Lulach called.

  I cast a glance back to see Lulach straining to see his sister.

  Keeping in mind that while I was her mother, I was also a stranger, I gently picked Crearwy up. She smelled of soap, her hair wet from being freshly washed. She wore a green woolen dress. Her hair curled around her ears.

  “Sweet baby,” I whispered then hugged her. “My sweet Crearwy.”