Highland Blood (The Celtic Blood Series Book 2)

by Melanie Karsak

  “Or one of each?”

  Gillacoemgain kissed my shoulder. “Little raven,” he whispered.

  He was silent for a while thereafter and soon I heard his heavy breathing. He’d already drifted off to sleep.

  Rest, for me, however, didn’t come easy. No wonder poor Gillacoemgain had lost his blankets. I rolled most of the night, unable to find a comfortable position. It felt like half the night had passed when I heard scratching on the door.

  I rose to find Thora outside.

  “The boy kicked you out?” I asked her.

  She wagged her tail then came inside, moving directly toward a spot in front of the fire.

  “Good idea,” I said then went to sit in a chair before the flames. I picked up the embroidery frame I’d been, albeit half-heartedly, working on, but felt too sleepy and too bored to bother. My eyelids drooped, but still I didn’t sleep. It must have been late in the evening when I saw movement in the room. At first I thought it was Thora moving around, but then I realized she was still at my feet. Out of the corner of my eye, a shape materialized.

  “You’re huge,” a woman told me.

  I recognized the sound of her voice at once. Sid. “What do you expect? I plan on bearing giants.” I looked at her. She’d come by casting. She was a mere shadow of herself.

  Thora lifted her head and wagged her tail.

  Sid grinned. “So, how are you?”

  “As well as can be expected.”

  “That bad? Come with me. We’ll go visit the summer country and dance with the fey.”

  “And leave this swollen body behind? I don’t think it advisable.”

  Sid laughed. “Where is the Mormaer?”

  “Asleep,” I said, motioning to the bed.

  Sid went then to the bedside and looked down at him. How odd it was to see her, and see through her, all at once.

  “You’ve always had good luck with men. He’s rather a beast, isn’t he? How is he…you know,” she said, then motioned as if she were planning to lift the blankets and have a look.

  “Sid!”

  She laughed, her pleasant laughter tinkling like a bell.

  Gillacoemgain sighed then rolled over.

  “He is a man, all in all, but I’ve grown to love him,” I told her.

  “And what of your druid?”

  Her abrupt question struck at my very core. “I’ve closed my heart to him.”

  “Liar.”

  “He’s lost to me. It’s best to forget him.”

  “I’ve seen him. He pines for you.”

  “You’ve seen him?”

  “In the moonlight, amongst the rings, he weeps for the love he lost.”

  Banquo. “Comfort him,” I told her.

  “He has a wife for that.”

  “Yes, I know.”

  “But still, his heart longs for you.”

  “Why are you tormenting me with this?”

  “Because I don’t want you to forget.”

  “Forget what?”

  “Who you really are,” she said. “Who you really love.”

  “My love is in ashes.”

  Sid shook her head. “Malcolm, Epona, even that old hag, Andraste…they all play games. In your heart, you know to whom and to what life you really belong.”

  I looked at her, realizing in that moment what she needed from me. “I haven’t forgotten you,” I whispered. Like Banquo, Sid also held a special place in my heart, but it was a place I didn’t quite understand. “I miss you. And I love you.”

  A look of relief crossed Sid’s face. It was what she had longed to hear. A second later, however, she smothered the expression. “Of course you do. By the by, I come with a message.”

  “From whom?”

  “Epona. She told me to ensure you remembered your promise. What did you promise her?”

  “To come to the coven to deliver my children.”

  Sid looked thoughtful. “She seems dreadfully upset about the whole thing and worries excessively about you.”

  “Odd.”

  “Yes. These are odd times.”

  “Indeed?”

  “Change is in the air. Will you be coming soon?”

  I nodded. “I need to convince the Mormaer.”

  Sid looked back at him. “I can see how you could love a face like that,” she said then sighed. Her casting weakened. “I must go.”

  “Be gone then, spirit. Bother me no more,” I said in jest.

  We giggled.

  Sid lifted a hand in farewell and then disappeared.

  I was left staring into the flames, strange visions trying to take shape in my mind.

  “Not tonight,” I whispered to the darkness, to the Goddess, to the raven…to whomever wanted me to see what was to come. “Not tonight,” I said, closing my eyes, my hands resting on my swollen belly.

  Soon, someone whispered in reply, but I was too tired to understand if the voice had come from the other world or within me.

  Chapter 19

  “How will this do, Lady Gruoch?” Rhona, one of the household maids, asked me the next day as we stood in my new chamber. The household had been working hard all morning getting a room ready for me. They’d been at it even before I woke that morning, Gillacoemgain seeing to it that I had somewhere safe to rest during the day if I wanted.

  The chamber was smaller than the one I shared with Gillacoemgain, but the bed was made with fresh straw and clean linens. The room had a good view of the comings and goings in the ward just outside, and a fireplace kept the space warm. Ute would have a small chamber just outside.

  “It’s perfect, Rhona, thank you.”

  “I’ll move all your dresses down from your chamber,” Ute told me, curtseying before she departed.

  Thora tromped all around the bed.

  “Well, is it comfortable?” I asked her.

  She lay down at the foot of the bed and looked at me, tilting her head to the side.

  I chuckled then went to the window, pushing open the casement. The temperature had dipped low and it had frosted overnight. The morning sun was burning away the last of the silver coating the grass. The air smelled of snow.

  As I looked below, a messenger rode into Cawdor. It was not an unusual sight, but the rider’s dress and horse caught my immediate attention. The horse, I noticed, had been worked to a lather. The rider, who wore a rich blue velvet doublet, look harried. One of the pages ran into the castle, presumably to get Gillacoemgain.

  A few minutes later, Gillacoemgain crossed the ward and met the rider who handed him a paper. Standish came from the stables and took the rider’s horse. I saw Gillacoemgain nod and wave the rider inside.

  My husband stood then, alone on the frozen grass, reading the dispatch. When he finished reading, he looked into the sky overhead. I followed his gaze. Above, one of his falcons swirled in circles over Cawdor. It whistled to him.

  Gillacoemgain crushed the paper in his hand then looked around the yard.

  “Fergus!” he called, waving to the man.

  At once, Fergus joined Gillacoemgain and they headed back into the castle.

  As they passed under the window, a handful of words were caught on the wind and lifted to my window: Malcolm. War. Macbeth.

  Chapter 20

  “Macbeth has escaped Malcolm’s hold,” Gillacoemgain was explaining when I entered his conference room later that day. So as not to interrupt the conversation, I settled into a seat along the wall in the back of the room. The clan leaders had already been assembled and riders had been departing Cawdor with messages since morning.

  “How?” someone asked.

  Gillacoemgain shook his head. “Malcolm is in England battling Cnut. I don’t know how.”

  “Will he make for Inverness?” another of the lords asked.

  “No. He is with Thorfinn of Orkney.”

  The room fell silent. The news was ominous. Thorfinn was Gillacoemgain’s strongest opponent in the north. Gillacoemgain had barely subdued him these past months. If Macb
eth was in league with Thorfinn, we would soon be at war.

  “Let them come. Our men are ready,” one of the clan leaders called.

  “Have you heard from Mar?” another man asked.

  “No,” Gillacoemgain replied. “I’m waiting for word. Now we shall see who is loyal to Moray.”

  I listened as the men batted around names, who would remain loyal and who would turn. One thing was certain, Gillacoemgain did not know who his friends were. In that moment, I pitied him. All of Moray thought him a butcher. He had killed his brother, and many loathed him for it. If only they knew the reason why.

  “What about Banquo of Lochaber?” someone asked, capturing my attention. “He’s sworn his allegiance to you. He and Echmarcach of the isles will—”

  “No,” Gillacoemgain interrupted. “Lochaber’s peace is false. He is allied with Thorfinn. They’ve been waiting for Macbeth’s return.”

  My heart thundered in my chest. Gillacoemgain already knew. A million ‘what ifs’ rolled around in my mind. I shook my head. If they all only knew why Gillacoemgain had killed Findelach, things would be different. But Gillacoemgain would never tell, would never disparage his sister’s memory with such filth.

  “Will Malcolm send reinforcements?” someone asked.

  “He is at war in England. If he can, he will,” Gillacoemgain answered, which was near the truth. If he wanted to, he would. But if Malcolm needed men in England, Moray was on her own.

  I cast my gaze around the room. When I did so, however, my head felt dizzy. The air around me seemed to buzz, and I thought I heard Andraste whisper. Damned.

  All at once, the room seemed to erupt into flame. The walls flooded with fire. Black smoke filled the room, ash falling like snow from above. I heard men screaming and felt the hot licks of fire on my skin. In the middle of the inferno, I saw Gillacoemgain, his face full of anguish. He called my name. Then, the flames ravaged him. Before my eyes, he burned until he was nothing more than ash.

  I screamed.

  “My Lady,” someone said, shaking my shoulder. “Lady Gruoch?”

  “Move back,” I heard Gillacoemgain call.

  I squeezed my eyes shut. I didn’t want to see the fire, the ash. The flames felt so real. I felt their heat on my skin. I smelled the smoke. Gasping for air, I felt the press of people around me step aside as Gillacoemgain drew close.

  “Gruoch?” Gillacoemgain whispered, taking my hand.

  I realized then I was lying on the floor.

  Afraid that I would see a burned man, I didn’t open my eyes. I shook my head.

  “Corbie? What happened? Are you all right?” Gillacoemgain asked.

  “She must have heard the conversation, took a fright,” Fergus said softly.

  “No,” Gillacoemgain answered. “Boite’s daughter doesn’t fear war. Corbie?”

  Finally, I opened my eyes to find Gillacoemgain looking down at me. His forehead was wrinkled with worry.

  I exhaled deeply. The vision had passed. “I’m okay,” I replied, offering my other hand so Gillacoemgain could help me up.

  “Someone get her maid,” Fergus called.

  “What happened?” Gillacoemgain asked.

  I shook my head. I didn’t want to say.

  “My Lady?” I heard Ute call. She arrived a moment later with Thora hot on her heels.

  “Take Lady Gruoch to her chamber to rest,” Gillacoemgain told her then turned to me. “Should I come now? Do you need me?”

  “No. It was nothing. Just…it was nothing. You have important work to do here.”

  Gillacoemgain nodded then saw me to the door.

  “Come now, My Lady. Oh, my sister used to have fits something terrible when she was pregnant. All manner of things would set her off. Let’s have a rest,” Ute told me.

  As we walked away, I heard Fergus’ voice. He spoke in a low tone to Gillacoemgain. “Like a banshee wail. You know what they used to say about her father. Ill-omened.”

  For a moment, Gillacoemgain did not reply. Then I heard him say, “It is for the gods to decide.”

  “Then let’s hope they are on our side,” Fergus said, closing the door behind them.

  I hoped Fergus was right, because when I looked down at my clothes, they were covered in ash.

  For the next few weeks, messengers rode in and out of Cawdor. The Lord of Moray had his supporters, but it wasn’t clear if he had enough. With Thorfinn backing Macbeth, and the west of Scotland with divided loyalties, it was unclear if Gillacoemgain had the men he needed. Much depended on Malcolm. And I knew, better than many, that Malcolm could not be trusted.

  “I need to get you out of Cawdor,” Gillacoemgain told me one night as he settled into bed beside me. “Spies are reporting that Thorfinn is amassing his naval army. I want you far away from any place near the water. We are too close to the Moray Firth here. You’re in too fragile of a state. If Cawdor is overrun and you are taken by force, neither you nor the babes may survive. No matter what happens, I must see you and my children safe. Malcolm has sent word that he is preparing forces to head north to support me. He’s inquired on your welfare. He told me to send you to Aberdeen.”

  “Aberdeen? It’s right on the coast.”

  “That’s right,” Gillacoemgain said, a knowing look in his eyes.

  My heart started beating hard. Malcolm wanted me somewhere easy to retrieve. If Gillacoemgain fell, Malcolm wanted to pluck me out of the middle of the fray and put me where he wanted me next. From Aberdeen, I could easily be bundled up and sent south…to Duncan? Was that Malcolm’s plan for me if Gillacoemgain failed?

  “No,” I said. “Send me to my aunt. I’ll go back amongst my women where I will be hidden and can safely deliver the babies.”

  “Malcolm…”

  “Malcolm be damned. We both know his motives.”

  Gillacoemgain nodded. “We’ll send word to Madelaine in secret. I’ll tell Malcolm you will be sent to Aberdeen. You must ride south. War is coming, just as our little ones are ready to join this world. I must get you somewhere safe,” he said, setting his hands on my stomach. “Gruoch,” he said, looking carefully at me. “That day in the meeting room…what did you see? What vision?”

  I shook my head. I didn’t want to tell him. “It was nothing.”

  He touched my chin. “I know what you are. I’ve known it all along. Highland blood. The old blood thunders in your veins. Tell me. What did you see?”

  “Fire.”

  “Pray to the Goddess. Pray to her. She will listen to you,” he said then pulled me against him. “I love you, little raven.”

  “I love you too,” I replied, swallowing the anguished moan that wanted to escape my lips.

  Chapter 21

  Two nights later, I found myself wide awake as the moon rose high in the sky. Macbeth. Who was this man to come and rip my world apart? Sighing, I looked back at Gillacoemgain who was sleeping soundly. The little chamber was warm, soft orange light pouring like liquid amber across the room, shining down on my husband.

  Wrapping a shawl around me, I rose and stood over him. How handsome he looked in the firelight. I closed my eyes and imagined how he’d looked that summer day in the field with the falcons, smiling as the sun shone in golden hues on his hair.

  Gillacoemgain grimaced in his sleep, then turned and rolled over.

  I sighed then set my hands on my stomach. We expected word from Madelaine to come at any time. Soon, I would ride south. This late in my pregnancy, it would be a difficult journey, but one I had to make. Malcolm wanted me within his reach. This time, I had more futures than my own to think of. Growing within me were the heirs of Moray, little ones who would, through me, have a claim to the throne of Scotland. I had to keep them safe.

  Frowning, I went back to the fireplace. I lifted another log to drop on the flames, but jumped when I saw an image dance across the surface of the water in the cauldron hanging there. I looked inside. The room around me suddenly grew distant, and I found myself standing along the shore.
Moonlight glimmered on the waves. I wasn’t sure where I was, but the smallest flakes of snow swirled in the air around me. Overhead, I looked to see the sky was alive with color. Streaks of purple, indigo, and golden light rolled across the starry canvas.

  Startling me, I heard someone speak. I turned to find a man kneeling on the ground, his sword before him, hilt end up. His words were soft.

  “May all that is to be come to pass through you. Amen,” he whispered then rose.

  When he did, I found myself standing face to face with my raven-haired man.

  “You,” he whispered.

  How long had it been since I’d seen him? He looked older, but still as handsome as ever. The aurora of light overhead shimmered on his armor, casting incandescent hues on his pale face.

  I reached out, wondering if I could touch him, but realized then I was little more than spirit. Quite by accident, I walked between the worlds. When I sought to speak, I heard only the raven’s cry.

  He gasped and backed away, a startled expression on his face.

  His reaction caught me off guard, and I was flung back into myself. Once more I was in my chamber with Gillacoemgain. Sharp pains struck my temples. I sat, holding my head, hoping to ward off the terrible pain and tremor that sometimes followed. Not now. Not while I was so heavy with child.

  I inhaled and exhaled deeply, blowing the pain away. My raven-haired man. It had been so long since I’d seen him last. My king, Andraste had once called him. Perhaps he was, but not in this lifetime. Perhaps he, like Banquo, belonged to a life lived long ago. Was he anything more than a buried memory come to life again? Did I walk the edges of time to join him? I didn’t know.

  I looked down at my hands, studying the lines thereon. Gruoch, Lady of Moray, daughter of Boite and Emer. Boudicca reborn. Who was I really? I stared into the flames. If the otherworld had never touched me, if I’d never gone to the coven, or to Ynes Verleath, what kind of woman would I have been? I glanced back at Gillacoemgain. I would be his wife, undistracted by visions of the otherworld. But when I looked back at my hands once more, I saw the now-faded scar on my palm, evidence that my soul knew and loved another before Gillacoemgain. And along with that scar, I saw the cut I’d made with my own knife, slicing my bind in half. Banquo was gone. My raven-haired man was some spirit who lived in a different world, a different time.