Highland Queen

Chapter 18

I spent the rest of the morning with Crearwy, indulging her whim to ride my horse.

“What do you mean he doesn’t have a name?” Crearwy asked as she rode him in circles around the coven square.

“I never thought of one.”

“It feels like he wants to jump into the heavens and run. He’s very swift.”

“How about Swift?”

“Swift,” Crearwy said with a laugh. “That’s perfect. You should have just called him that from the beginning.”

I chuckled.

Horseback riding was followed by hunting the woods for mistletoe, which mostly consisted of Crearwy chasing Beauty through the forest, digging for truffles, unsuccessfully tracking deer, and all manner of other curious but exhausting things. When we returned to the coven, Crearwy decided she wanted to work at weaving.

“I’ll take some rest,” I told my daughter.

“All right. I have to help Epona with the lunch soon anyway,” she said. Jumping up, she gave me a peck on the cheek then ran off.

My heart was filled with joy, but my body felt weary. I returned to Sid’s house. The fire was burning nicely. After our work that morning, the house was bright and clean. I lay down on the bed, promising myself I would only close my eyes for a few minutes. But sleep came quickly upon me. I was deep in my dreams when I felt someone sit down on the bed beside me.

“Crearwy? I’m sorry. Is it time to eat?”

“Almost time for supper,” a snippy voice replied.

I opened my eyes to find Sid sitting there. She was grinning at me.

“Sid.”

“Slept the whole day, did you? That’s what they told me. What, crown too heavy?”

“Something’s too heavy.”

“Oh, yes, Epona was whispering. Finally caught our man’s lightning seed, did you?”

I chuckled. “Apparently.”

“Well, that won’t complicate anything.”

I huffed a laugh. “You’re right about that, old friend.”

After I sat up, Sid handed me a package wrapped in parchment that looked more like leaves than paper.

“What is it?” I asked.

“A gift.”

“You brought me a gift?”

“Not I.”

“What is it?”

Sid chuckled. “That’s not how a gift works. Open it.”

I moved aside the brittle wrapping. Within, I found a pair of gloves. “What are these?”

“Gloves, of course.”

I chuckled. “I see that. But from whom?”

“The Unseelie Queen.”

I looked from Sid to the gloves to Sid again. “What?” While the Seelies were known to be benevolent, the Unseelies were another matter. The Unseelies, at least what I knew of them, disliked humans and often caused harm. While all the fey stayed away from humans, the Unseelies found mankind particularly repugnant.

“That’s why I’m late,” Sid said. “The Unseelie Queen came to the Seelie court to bring me these to give to you. Everyone was in a titter. Then the Seelies were vexed because they had no gift for you. I told them they needed none, but everyone was upset. And no one understood the gift, not even me, until I saw.”

“Saw what?”

“Those rosy fingers of yours. Can’t get the blood off?”

“You see it? You see it too?”

“Oh, yes. I’m just glad it stayed on your hands and didn’t get all over my bed. Gruesome. You must have had quite the time with your cousin to leave such a mark.”

“What is this mark, Sid? Why are these stains there?”

“It’s a curse. You’ve stained your very soul. Don’t you see? Such a pity. You always had such lovely hands. But try these on. They’re made with cloth found only in the land of the fair ones.”

A curse.

I had stained my soul.

I lifted the gloves. They were made of soft black fabric that felt like silk but was sturdier. The hems were trimmed with silver embroidery. There was a pattern in the material itself. It appeared and disappeared as I moved the fabric.

“Are they bespelled?”

“That’s what I asked. They are. But the Seelie Queen looked them over and promised they’d bring you no harm. My guess is that the spell quiets the bloody marks.”

I slid the gloves on, waiting for the red spots to soak through. But they didn’t. My hands stayed covered and clean.

“Did the Unseelie Queen say why she sent these?”

“No. And I didn’t have the nerve to ask her.”

“No matter what gloves I put on, the spots remained. The blood always soaked through,” I told Sid.

“Not now,” Sid said, taking my hand.

“Not now. Why would such a creature send something to me?”

“One day you will take your place among the Wyrds. Perhaps she hopes you will remember her kindness then.”

I sighed. “We shall see.”

“Right. But we shall see later. Now, you need to go.”

“Go? Go where?”

“Back to Madelaine.”

“But I just got here. And you just got here.”

“I know, but Nadia says you need to go now. Madelaine needs you.”

“Sid! I haven’t seen you in years.”

“So I complained. But I’m told that it’s urgent. So you must go. Kiss me once, like you mean it, and then you can depart.”

Not waiting for me, Sid set her hand on my neck and pulled me into a deep kiss. Her mouth was warm and sweet as if she had been eating honey by the spoonful. She slipped onto the bed with me, straddling my lap. With her free hand, she gently stroked my breast.

My mind wanted to resist, but in the end, I fell into her kiss.

I loved Sid.

I loved Sid in ways I didn’t understand.

And I loved her kiss.

After a time, Sid pulled back. She sighed heavily. “Now, I have to let you go. What a pain. I’ll see you again though,” she said then leaned toward my stomach. “And you, wee thing, what are we going to do with you?”

I shook my head, a million emotions flowing through me at once. “Sid.”

“Have you met Flidas?”

“Yes.”

“And what did you think?”

“I’m not sure.”

“I’ll take her to bed while you’re gone. At least it will help me feel less lonely.”

“Sid,” I said with a shake of the head.

Sid paused then and took my face into her hands. “I love you, Cerridwen.”

“I love you too.”

“Now go say goodbye to Crearwy. And come back soon.”

“Sid, I think I’ve made a terrible mistake.”

At that, Sid laughed loudly. “We all make mistakes, Cerridwen. Who can see them at the moment they’re made? Now, go on.”

Sighing, I reluctantly rose. I pulled on my coat and headed outside to find Epona and Crearwy sitting on the bench near the fire. Epona was holding the same counting board she had used to teach me. My heart was warmed by the sight.

“Here she is,” Sid called. “And as I told you both, she must go.”

Crearwy looked up at me, a stormy expression on her face. She set her own counting board down then stormed off in the direction of the barn.

Leaning on her staff, Epona rose. She watched Crearwy go.

“Sid, are you sure I must leave?” I asked.

Sid nodded. “Yes.”

I sighed.

“Tully has saddled your horse,” Epona said, motioning to the blood bay—Swift—who stood looking at me. “Please make sure Druanne and Uald return safely.”

“Of course,” I said then pulled Epona into a hug. She was so frail, so small. I could scarcely believe it. “Banquo may come here if he doesn’t stop at the keep first,” I told Epona.

She looked at Sid.

“I’ll fetch him and put him on a new route. Let’s see if he wants to have some fun before I set him free. Would you mind, raven beak?”

I rolled my eyes. “I’ll leave that for him to decide. I must see to Crearwy,” I said, motioning to the barn.

Epona nodded.

Sid wrapped her arm around Epona’s waist and set her head on Epona’s shoulder. “Just moments. Always, just moments,” Sid whispered.

“That is the way of life. In the end, it was all just a moment.”

“End? Not yet, horse lady. Come, let’s have a look at Cerridwen’s bloody beast.”

When I entered the barn, I paused and listened. The horses and goats turned and looked at me, all of them hopeful for something to eat. She wasn’t here. I then heard the sound of soft crying coming from the smithy. Crossing the barn, I found her sitting beside Uald’s cold forge. She was weeping quietly, her head cradled in her arms

“Crearwy,” I said softly.

“How can you go?” she demanded, turning to me, her face red with fury. “How can you just leave? You just got here. I never see you. It’s like you never wanted me, only Lulach. How can you just leave?”

“I don’t want to go. Nadia said Madelaine needs me. Tavis—you will not know him, but he was like a father to me—is gravely ill. Madelaine needs me.”

“I need you!”

“Crearwy—”

“Take me with you. I want to come. I don’t want to be here. I want to be with you.”

“You are loved and safe.”

“Yes, yes, yes. I know. I’m safe. But safe from what?”

“From terrors you cannot imagine. From pain you cannot imagine. Please believe me, I would never leave you for any other reason.”

“But Lulach can go? Lulach can be out there. Lulach can be a prince.”

“Lulach is with the druids right now.”

At that, Crearwy threw up her hands. “So, he gets to do both? That’s fair?”

“It’s different for women. Things are not fair, not equal, in the world outside this place. Macbeth is a lunatic. I will not let him have any say over your fate.”

“Then don’t. Tell him no. I am Gillacoemgain’s daughter, not his.”

I smiled at her. “You are. Had your father lived, things would have been so different, but—”

“But he didn’t live. He died. Your husband killed him. You married the man who killed my father! How could you?”

“Crearwy, it’s difficult to explain.”

“Don’t explain anything to me. Just leave. Just go. You don’t want to be here anyway. Go away, and don’t come back.”

Full of fury, she shoved Uald’s tools to the ground then took off in a sprint, leaving me to stand there not knowing what to do. Tears welled in my eyes. Crearwy was right to be angry, and I had no good answers for her. She was too young to know the terrible things that had happened. How could I explain it to her?

A moment later, someone approached me from behind. “I’ll go after her,” Aridmis said, setting her hand on my shoulder.

I looked at my old friend. “Aridmis, I…”

“She will forgive you in time,” Aridmis reassured me. “She will need to forgive all of us, in time. Be well, Cerridwen,” she said then headed into the forest after my child.

My heart heavy, I rejoined Sid and Epona. Epona wouldn’t meet my eyes.

“Children get angry with their parents. Parents get angry with their children. It is the way of things,” Sid said. “For instance, I understand that Eochaid once spent a year in Moray, but he never bothered to tell his mother. Seems a kind lady there looked after him. Have anything to say about that, raven beak?”

“Only that I hope he is well, and I send him my love.”

Sid shook her head.

I climbed on my horse and settled in.

Epona reached out and took my hand. “There are too many words, and I cannot find the right ones.”

“I will see you again,” I told her.

She nodded softly then let me go.

I looked back toward the smithy once more. There was no sign of Crearwy or Aridmis. Feeling miserable and completely unsure what to do, I tapped my horse’s reins and rode out of the coven, hoping that Sid was right.

One day, I hoped Crearwy would understand and forgive me.