Highland Blood

Chapter 6

That night, after the castle had quieted, I knelt before the fire in my chamber, Thora lying beside me. The embers popped and snapped. I knew what I needed to do, where I needed to go, but I just couldn’t force my feet to make the walk between Gillacoemgain’s bedchamber and my own.

I threw some herbs into a cauldron hanging over the fire. The sharp scents of sage and other herbs filled the room. I inhaled deeply and gazed into the flames. I felt hot but tried to ignore the trickles of sweat on my brow and running down my back. Focusing on the embers, I lulled myself into a trance. Loosening my spirit from the body, I forced myself to see the eternal flame of the Goddess in Ynes Verleath. A moment later, I found myself in the otherworld. The scent of wisteria overwhelmed me.

I walked, my form little more than a shadow, to the terrace where Andraste sat, leaning against her staff, by the fire.

“Cerridwen,” she said without looking up at me.

“Did you know?”

“Know what?”

“Don’t be coy. Did you know I would encounter Duncan? Did you know I was sent to marry Moray? Did you know what was going to happen?”

“Does it matter?” she replied then turned to face me. “In the end, does it matter? We are all fated to live the lives the gods have decreed for us. You will bear Duncan’s children. And you will wed Moray.”

“But what about Banquo?” I whispered.

“He’s married another and fathered a child with her besides. Forget him.”

“What!” I felt my physical body tremble. The sensation started to pull me back to the realm of the living.

“I speak the truth,” Andraste said.

“You…you promised me a different title. Queen. I don’t understand what’s happening.”

“You don’t wish to be the Queen of the North? Aren't you satisfied to be the Queen of the Picts? Do you wish bigger feats than that of the sons of Alpin?”

“No.”

“You carry the children of a prince. Would you rather their father to be your husband?”

I gasped. It was a possibility I had not thought of. “No.”

Andraste turned back to the fire. “Be settled in Moray. The goddess will see to you.”

“Is he really…has he really wed another?”

Andraste sighed deeply. “Yes. Forget your druid. Like you, he had to obey his father’s will. And Epona let him think you were gone forever. What else could he do?”

Wait. He could have waited for me. “Nothing,” I whispered.

Andraste nodded.

I let go.

I found myself lying in front of the fire in my bedchamber once more. The coals had burned low.

Thora licked my chin to rouse me.

Banquo. How could he? Had Epona’s words truly left him in such despair? Had he believed me to be dead or beyond his reach, lost to the darkness? Tears streamed down my cheeks. I pitied him. I pitied the man I loved. He would have mourned me. He would have mourned the life he’d been dreaming of, as I did. I could go to him now, but at what cost? He was married. He had a woman and a child. He’d been wed out of political alliance. And if I left, what danger would I bring to my own house? I wiped the hot tears from my cheeks then shuddered. Pulling my knees to my chest, I rocked myself slowly back and forth. It was more than I could bear.

Banquo was lost to me. I’d been sexually assaulted. I was pregnant. I was about to be married off to a stranger and rejoin court life. My hands shook as I swayed slowly back and forth. I felt a strange pain shoot across my head. I closed my eyes and tried to breathe deeply, tried not to think about it all. Everything threatened to overwhelm me. It wanted to crash over me like a wave. If I let it, I might not survive it. I rocked and rocked. There was a way out of this. There was a way out of all this madness. I knew the herbs. I could end it myself. I could end…myself. It would be so easy.

An image flickered through my mind of the dark-haired child and his glimmering blue eyes.

Stop, I told myself. Stop.

My body stilled.

My hands stopped shaking.

I rose and stood before the flames. Maybe I would marry Moray as Gruoch, but Gruoch…she could not handle what had to be done next.

I pulled a dagger from my boot and stabbed my already-injured palm, cutting my handfasting scar in half. Reaching my arm over the dying flame, I poured the blood onto the hot coals. The liquid sizzled and filled the air with a strange smell. I closed my eyes and called the raven.

Come.

Come.

Come and we shall devour him together.

I heard raven wings beating, coming from afar. My body shuddered when I felt the raven enter me, the dark spirit that was both me and not me, that was Cerridwen in her truest form, take control. I gazed around the chamber with my raven’s eyes. I grabbed a brush and combed my long, dark hair, letting it fall loose over me. I then grabbed the small vial of chicken’s blood I had gathered earlier that evening, slipping it into my robe pocket.

“Stay here,” I told Thora, but it was the raven who spoke.

Thora tilted her head, studying me carefully, then lay down beside the fire.

Letting the raven have her way, I detached from my mind and watched as I exited my chamber and headed down the hallway to meet with Gillacoemgain of Moray.

Outside Gillacoemgain’s door, one of the men from Gillacoemgain’s company dozed in a chair. The raven eyed him curiously and determined he wasn’t a threat. In fact, it was good if gossip spread about my midnight visit. As I drew near, the man woke.

“My Lady?” he asked.

“Is your Lord within?”

The man smiled knowingly. “Yes, My Lady.”

“And he has no company?” For all I knew, Gillacoemgain could have ten whores in his room.

“No, My Lady. The Mormaer isn’t that kind of man.”

This answer pleased the raven. “Let me in.”

“Of course, Lady Gruoch,” he said then opened the door.

When the light shone in from the hall, Gillacoemgain stirred and rolled over.

“I need nothing, Fergus,” he mumbled.

I walked quietly to the side of his bed and removed my robe. I then slipped into the bed with him.

Gillacoemgain woke instantly. “Gruoch?”

I moved my hands across his body and began to tug at his shirt while my mouth covered his, drowning any protests he may have made. He fell into my passionate kisses. The raven enjoyed his smell, the feel of his strong body, his taste, and his beauty. Gruoch, the part of me that still watched, saw the raven work with detachment.

When I finally gave his mouth a break, he said, ”I was tempted to find your room this evening, but I thought I dare not be so bold. Yet here you are.”

“I lay abed with my body burning for you. We are to be married. There is no reason to wait until Moray where you may only have a few chances to come to me before you must go. I hope you don’t think me too forward. I don’t act so with men. It is only knowing you will be my husband that allows me to act as my body wishes.”

“No, no, your logic falls true. I had wished to say the same to you.”

His hands found my breasts and touched them gently. I kissed his neck and chest, and my hands roved over his strong back.

I am deceiving him.

We are deceiving him.

We are right.

It must be done.

His touch was different from Banquo’s. Banquo had touched me tenderly, worshiping me. Banquo and I had shared the deepest core of ourselves. Soul magic. Gillacoemgain, on the other hand, played with my breasts, sucked my nipples, squeezed my ass, and stroked my hair. He enjoyed my body in the most physical of ways, and the raven returned the favor in kind. My mouth moved down his neck and across his shoulders. He was a powerful and skilled lover, as a man of his age would be. I was surprised when my body reacted with pleasure to his intimate caresses. And when he finally slipped inside me, the raven trembled with pleasure. Our bodies moved in tandem, and soon, we both found release. After, Gillacoemgain lay beside me, his head on my shoulder.

“Lovely woman,” he whispered in my ear. “I never thought I’d have such a beautiful wife. I will cherish you always.”

His soft and loving words quieted the raven. The dark wings retreated, and I felt myself, once more just Gruoch, lying in bed with the man who would be my husband.

“Are you thirsty? Would you like some wine?” he asked.

I shook my head. “Water?”

Gillacoemgain gently stroked my hair away from my face then rose and crossed the room to fetch his water pouch. I watched him as he walked. In truth, I was lucky. He was young and handsome. His body was sculpted from his days in battle, and his naked form was a sight to behold. Andraste was right. Malcolm could have married me to Duncan. Had he tried to do so I would have ended my own life. No one could suffer such a terrible fate.

“Here you are,” Gillacoemgain said, handing me the skin. He sat beside me on the bed sipping a glass of wine. “Are you all right? Are you…are you in pain?” he asked carefully.

“Sore,” I said, and it was the truth but not for the reasons he expected. “But I’ll be fine.”

Gillacoemgain smiled. “Gruoch, daughter of Boite. You look like your father. I saw him once when I was a teenager. I admired him greatly.”

My heart was moved by his words. “I loved him dearly.”

“Stay with me tonight? I…I don’t want you to go.”

I nodded.

Gillacoemgain smiled, kissed me on the forehead, then rolled into bed beside me. I took the last sip of water then set the skin aside. Gillacoemgain pulled me down beside him, wrapping his arms around me.

“Never in my wildest dreams did I think I would have a wife with a Pictish spark. I’m so pleased with you, Gruoch.”

“M’Lord,” I replied playfully.

Gillacoemgain laughed. “My bride,” he whispered into my hair, then moments later he fell asleep.

I waited until he was completely lost to the world of dreams then reached for my robe. Grabbing the small vial from my pocket, I poured enough blood on the bedding to convince the household I’d kept up my end of the bargain. I then went to the window and looked outside. The moon was a sliver of silver on the starry canvas. Banquo. Banquo, why did you give up on me?

Sighing, I tossed the vial out the window and crawled back into bed with Gillacoemgain of Moray, the man who would soon be my husband and father to the children I carried.