Highland Queen

by Melanie Karsak

  At that, Thorfinn laughed. “Be well, Gruoch,” he said then mounted.

  I went to Macbeth. “I wish you a safe and healing journey,” I told him.

  “Dunsinane will be well cared for in your hands. Take care, Gruoch,” he said then looked about suspiciously. “But watch the woods. They whisper.”

  “Indeed,” I said. Macbeth was not wrong, I was just surprised he had the ears to hear such things. Once again, my vision of the moving forest came to mind. I shuddered when I thought of it.

  Macbeth waved to me then reined his horse to join Thorfinn.

  I watched the party depart.

  Scotia, I hope you are right.

  When Thorfinn and Macbeth rode off for Rome, I had my sincere doubts that anything about Macbeth would change for the better. They would be gone for months. So, in the very least, I would be able to complete my own work.

  Time passed. Banquo wrote, sharing with me the details of Aelith’s life. Our daughter was growing quickly, was in good health, and was a silly, happy thing. Fleance and Lulach had passed through once more on their way to tour the country. I was sorry to know I had missed them. One day, I would see my son again. I ached to see all my children, but I didn’t dare leave Dunsinane. My eyes were firmly fixed on the south. From what I could learn, Siward was always on the move. He was looking for a way back north. Malcolm, Duncan’s son, was coming of age. Soon, very soon, Siward would be back. I had lost all hope of ever recovering Donaldbane. The messengers I sent to the Irish king never returned. It was no use, and I would not risk another man in the effort.

  Months drifted away.

  One day in the autumn, very near Samhain, I was riding from Glamis to Dunsinane when I suddenly felt a strange chill. The wind whistled through the woods, and I heard whispering on the breeze. I pulled Swift to a stop.

  “What is it?” Killian asked, looking around. He unsheathed his sword.

  “I…I don’t know.”

  Come. Come tonight, a voice whispered.

  I glanced into the woods. The ancient oaks shifted, but I felt eyes on me.

  “Squeaks,” I said.

  Killian nodded. “Always with these woods.”

  I nodded then clicked at Swift, moving forward once more.

  “Gruoch…” Killian said, and I could tell by the tone of his voice that he had something important to say.

  “What is it?”

  “I wanted to ask you—well, tell you—or ask you— I’m not sure which,” he said with a chuckle.

  “What is it?”

  “I would like to ask Greer to marry me.”

  I wasn’t surprised. Morag had set me on the case, and I had done what I could to see that the two of them had the opportunity to get to know each other better. Greer was a good girl, and Killian a trusted servant.

  “Of course, you have my blessing, not that you need it.”

  “Greer loves you well, my lady. But I think she’s lonesome for Lochaber. I’d like to take her home.”

  Which would mean that I would lose both my guard and my maid. “I wish you the best. I only wish I could go with you. Would you take some things to Aelith for me?”

  Killian nodded. “Anything, my lady. But I hate to leave you here alone.”

  “Wallace’s men have proven reliable. I’m settled in Dunsinane for the moment. Please, don’t delay on my account. You should leave before the weather turns.”

  “Thank you, Gruoch. I must say, you don’t seem surprised.”

  “No. Of course not. I already knew.”

  “How?”

  I grinned. “What did you think all that squeaking was about? The forest told me, of course.”

  Killian chuckled. “Of course. Do you think Lord Banquo would take me on at Tor Castle?”

  “Yes. And you shall carry a letter with you that states the same. I would feel better to have trusted eyes on Aelith. And Greer will be needed at the castle as well. Aelith will need a maid.”

  “You’re too good, Your Majesty.”

  “It’s the least I can do.”

  When we returned to the castle, I sent Greer and Killian off for the night to celebrate. While I wanted them to enjoy their exciting news, I had other plans. After it grew dark, I grabbed a torch and headed to the oldest part of the castle. Slipping down the steps, I retraced my path to the caves below.

  “Guide me,” I whispered into the darkness.

  I closed my eyes and called the raven.

  I could hear the bird coming from a far distance. The sound of beating wings slowly approached me, growing louder with each passing moment. My body rocked when the raven and I became one.

  Opening my eyes, I looked around.

  The cave before me glowed, etchings on the walls shimmering with silver light. I followed the cave, winding through the darkness. The cave walls were covered with odd symbols and markings, things from a time long past. As I went, my torchlight revealed bowls carved from wood and jugs made out of clay. I twisted, going down and down, deeper and deeper. The air was very still. I could smell the earth. In the darkest corners, where my torchlight did not reach, I heard whispers.

  The creatures of the Hollow Hills.

  If they truly existed, this is where they would live.

  Of course, such a place would connect to Ynes Verleath and the Lord of the Hollow Hills’ chamber. This was his realm.

  But the raven did not fear old things.

  I wound down the path until I caught a fresh breeze. I could sense an opening to the outside world. The passage narrowed. I knelt and looked up at a small hole at the end of the cave. I could see the night’s sky.

  I extinguished my torch then crawled up.

  Slowly, pulling and pushing, I crept up and out. I emerged through an opening at the base of an old tree. I crawled out then stepped into the night air. The massive old oak sat at the bottom of Dunsinane Hill.

  I brushed off my dress and looked up at the castle.

  “Not as secure as you thought,” I said to the absent Kirk.

  Behind me, someone cleared their throat, and I heard the jingling of rigging.

  I looked back to see the girl I had spotted in the woods. She was hidden by shadows.

  “I brought you a horse, Queen Gruoch.”

  I looked from the castle to her once more then went to her.

  “Thank you,” I said then mounted. “And please, call me Cerridwen.”

  Chapter 41

  The woman turned her horse and led me into the forest. She clicked at her steed. The beast picked up his pace, the horse I was riding following along. We rode through the forest at a brisk pace. As we went, I eyed the trees. Soon, a pattern emerged: nine ash, nine oak, and ahead of me, I spotted the first thorn tree.

  Guiding her mount, the girl led us to a river. She clicked at her horse and soon, we forged our way across. I pulled up my feet and held on as we moved through the deepest part. Once we had crossed, she drove us toward a thick patch of woods.

  My raven’s eyes had not yet left me. Ahead, the trees glowed silver. Two tall monoliths stood sentinel at the entrance to the old forest. The woman guided her mount, and we rode through the stones. The air shivered. On the other side of the rocks, situated within a ring of massive old oaks, was a small village with nine houses.

  At the center fire, a woman with long black hair waited. Eight other women, all of whom were robed in green, stood behind her.

  “All hail,” the woman with long, black hair called. “Hail the Dark Lady. Our queen has come.”

  The girl who’d brought me slipped off her horse then took my reins so I could dismount.

  I climbed down and went to the leader of the coven. “Mother,” I said, inclining my head to her.

  “Welcome, Dark Lady, to Birnam Grove,” she said. “I am Diana, leader of this coven.”

  “I am pleased to meet you.”

  “Come,” she said, motioning for me to follow her. She led me to her home, a dome-shaped building made of stone and earth. Once we were
inside, she motioned for me to sit by the center fire. She poured me a goblet of amber-colored liquid then sat on a stool across from me.

  “Amongst our people, you are called Cerridwen.”

  I nodded. “Yes.”

  The woman nodded thoughtfully. I studied her. Her eyes were lined with coal, and like Banquo, she had tattoos on her arms and brow. “I am glad you have come.”

  “I spoke with Balor in the autumn,” I told her. “I want to help people of our faith. I have begun drafting grants of land, so the covens are protected by the crown. And I—”

  “I am not interested in such matters,” she told me.

  “Then why have you brought me here?”

  “Because I was told to do so. Take my hand,” she said, reaching across the fire to me.

  I watched as the flames surrounded her arm, her gown, but they did not burn her.

  She eyed my gloved hand but said nothing. I placed my hand in hers.

  When I did so, I felt a sharp jolt. The world around me trembled.

  I opened my eyes to find myself somewhere familiar.

  I was in Epona’s cabin. Before me, Epona lay on her bed. Crearwy sat beside her, holding her hand. Uald sat on a chair at Epona’s bedside.

  Crearwy shivered then she turned and looked at me.

  “Mother,” she said with a gasp.

  Uald rose. “Cerridwen.”

  Diana had cast us to the coven.

  “Epona,” I said. I reached out to touch her, but in my phantom form, I could not.

  Epona was so pale and shrunken. She opened her eyes just a little and looked at me.

  “Cerridwen?”

  “Epona, I’m here.”

  Epona looked behind me. “Hail, Diana,” she rasped.

  “Hail, Great Epona. May the Horse Mother guide your passage into the great beyond.”

  “Thank you, sister,” she said then looked back at me. “Cerridwen,” Epona whispered, motioning for me to come close.

  I leaned in.

  “Cerridwen, I wanted to tell you… I wanted to tell you that I’m sorry. I took from you—”

  “You did what you thought was right.”

  “No. No. I took from you,” she whispered. “I had no right.”

  “Your actions were guided,” I said, casting a glance at Crearwy who was listening intently.

  “It was wrong. For you. For her. I am sorry,” Epona said, a tear slipping down her wrinkled cheek.

  I choked back a sob. “No, Epona. Please. You have my forgiveness. Please. You were so good to me, like a mother. You did your best. You gave me so much.”

  “But I took…” she said then turned to Crearwy. “Forgive your mother. Forgive her. It was me. It was Andraste and me.”

  “Epona,” Crearwy said, her voice cracking. She kissed Epona’s hand.

  “Forgive your mother,” Epona pleaded of Crearwy once more.

  Crearwy looked at me, her face wet with tears. She nodded. “I forgive her.”

  “Cerridwen,” Epona whispered. “When the time comes, listen to your heart.”

  Epona turned to Uald. She smiled at her old friend.

  Uald choked back a sob.

  Epona patted Uald’s arm.

  She turned and looked at all of us once more, then she closed her eyes. Epona exhaled heavily then became very still.

  “Epona?” Crearwy whispered.

  Epona didn’t answer.

  Uald rose. She rushed past us and out of the house. I heard the front door slam behind her. A few minutes later, I felt others approach. I turned to see Aridmis, Druanne, Juno, Tully, and Flidas standing there.

  No Sid.

  Flidas looked from Epona to Diana.

  “Mother,” she whispered.

  Diana bowed her head to the girl the turned to me. “Cerridwen, we must go,” Diana told me.

  I looked back at my daughter. “Crearwy?”

  She looked up at me. “I love you, Mother.”

  “I love you too. Goodbye,” I whispered.

  As Diana and I withdrew, I reached out into that strange expanse of space where all the worlds touched and screamed, “Sid!”

  My body rocked when we returned to the forest coven in Birnam. I tumbled from my stool. It took me a moment to regain my footing.

  Diana rocked, her eyes closed. She clapped her hands together then pressed her fingers against her lips.

  I fidgeted, unsure what to do with myself.

  I was crying. My whole body tense, I wanted to do something, anything. But there was nothing to be done.

  “Breathe, Cerridwen. Breathe.”

  Setting my hand on my stomach, I inhaled slow and deep over and over again. Tears streamed down my cheeks. I yanked off my gloves and brushed the tears away.

  I looked back at Diana who was staring at my hands.

  I gazed down to see they were still covered in blood.

  I sobbed.

  Then, I felt it. There was a strange buzz at the back of my neck. My hands trembled.

  No. Not now. Not here.

  I had not had a fit in many years, and I could not have one now, here, amongst strangers—even if this was a sacred space.

  I closed my eyes and breathed deeply, calming the tremors that wanted to insist themselves upon me.

  “No,” I whispered. “No.”

  Eyes closed, I pulled my gloves back on and mastered myself. Once I was steady, the shaking beaten back, I sat once more.

  “How did you know?” I asked Diana.

  “The moon told me,” she whispered. “I am sorry to meet you at such an auspicious time, but I was guided to bring you here, so you could be with her at her last moments.”

  I choked back a sob then nodded.

  “I will have Arden take you back now. But you and yours are welcome here. Just listen to the trees; they will guide you. In Birnam, whenever the woods speak, listen. They always know what must be done,” she said then rose.

  We exited the little earthen house once more. I looked around. The place was not unlike Epona’s coven, though it was smaller and more rudimentary. Like the caves below Dunsinane, it was an ancient place.

  I bowed to the women collected there then mounted the horse I had rode in on.

  “Be well, Dark Lady,” Diana called to me then motioned to the others. “Come, daughters. Tonight, we shall pray for the spirit of a great lady who has passed.”

  “Coming?” the girl Diana had called Arden called to me.

  I turned the horse and followed along behind her.

  As we rode, I tried to wrap my head around what I had seen.

  Epona was gone.

  May the Great Mother help us all.

  Epona was gone.

  Arden and I took the road that led to Dunsinane. When the castle’s torchlight was in sight, I dismounted and handed the horse’s reins to her.

  “I will walk the rest of the way. It will make for a good joke,” I said absently, my heart not in it.

  The girl nodded.

  “Arden, isn’t it?”

  “Yes.”

  “If you should need anything, please don’t hesitate to come to Dunsinane.”

  “And if you ever need anything, don’t forget where we are. Just whisper to the trees,” she said then gave me a soft, sympathetic smile. “Be safe, Your Majesty,” she said then turned and rode back into the night.

  I sighed then looked up at the castle, a terrible feeling of loss eating a hole in my heart.

  Epona’s words replayed again and again through my head.

  I closed my eyes. “Epona, go with my love,” I whispered. “I shall see you in the next life. Blessed may you be.”

  Chapter 42

  It was months before Macbeth and Thorfinn returned. When they did so, I was relieved to find Macbeth much changed.

  “He is not the man we knew, before or after,” Thorfinn told me. “He is a different man now. But I think…I think things will be quiet for you.”

  “Thank you, Thorfinn,” I told him.


  Before he left, Thorfinn and I stayed awake late into the night talking about everything he had seen, the other rulers they had met, and the friendships he had formed abroad, many of which would prove helpful in the years to come. Rather than staying with us, Macbeth went to the chapel to pray. I should have known from the first night that nothing would be the same. But who could guess it?

  Thorfinn rode out the following morning. I stood at the castle gate and watched him go.

  As I did so, a wind blew, and the trees around me swayed.

  “Never again will thy eye meet. Farewell, farewell,” I heard a light voice whisper on the wind.

  My flesh rose in goosebumps, and I looked all around. There was no one there, just myself and the trees. But then I remembered, in Birnam Wood, the forest always spoke.

  Little did I know then, what they had whispered was true.

  * * *

  Everything comes in threes. Epona had taught me that. The last time I was reminded of her teachings, I had been left alone at Cawdor for six years. I should have known another such time was coming. Threes were all around me, including the number of losses I would face. Tavis’s death was the first, followed by Epona’s, and sadly, Standish wrote not long after Epona had gone, that Kelpie had lain down in his stall one night, and never rose again. In my mind, I imagined Epona and Kelpie together, Epona riding my warhorse bareback across the fields, both of them dizzy with joy.

  Three found me once again. After three years, I returned to Lochaber to see Aelith and Banquo. My visit there was not long. While Madelaine did everything she could to care for the kingdom in my absence, I was needed at Dunsinane. Every time I rode out, I left a madman on the throne. So I saw my sweet girl, who didn’t remember me at all, in the flesh for less time than a mother deserved. Aelith, who was a silly, wild thing, grew in Banquo’s and my image, a miniature combination of us both. And the husband of my heart aged, silver streaks lining his hair.

  Three came again, and with it, the Thane of Fife and Standish passed from this world to the next. Madelaine left Fife and Lothian to the rule of her husband’s nephew and retired with me to Dunsinane.