Highland Queen

Chapter 22

For the next several days, I worked almost without stopping. Documents and ledgers had come from Edinburgh. I thanked Epona a thousand times over for teaching me to read and write as I went through the records. Everything was a mess. Aside from tracking land, wealth, and resources, I also spent considerable time considering what allies could be made abroad. I had just decided on a course with the Franks when a messenger arrived.

“Your Majesty, an envoy from Echmarach of the Isles has arrived. King Macbeth has asked if you would join them in his conference room.”

Setting my work aside, I slipped down halls of Glamis to join Macbeth. I still hadn’t gotten used to the lovely rugs on the floors, gold-trimmed sconces, and tapestries and paintings on the walls. Such opulence seemed foreign to me.

I arrived at Macbeth’s chamber to hear the sounds of jovial laughter.

I entered without hesitation.

“Ah, here is my queen,” Macbeth said, crossing the room, his arm outstretched in greeting.

The strangers bowed to me, their leader stepping forward. “Your Majesty, I’m Finnegan Macdrummel. I bring good greetings from my lord, Echmarach of the Isles.”

“We are grateful to hear from our friend and ally,” I said.

“We come with news. Your Majesty, you sought word of Donaldbane, son of Duncan, who was taken by Ímar mac Arailt?”

“Yes,” I said.

“We have confirmed he is with the Irish king. Lord Echmarach was eager to learn when he should send a force to retrieve the boy. As I am sure you know, Ímar mac Arailt has taken our lord’s lands by force. He is eager to repay the Irish king for this slight. Given the support Lord Echmarach gave you in your efforts to win the crown, he was hoping to hear news of how you could repay his help—by men or by coin—to both our happy ends.”

Macbeth poured himself a glass of wine. “Ímar mac Arailt is, undoubtedly, in the wrong here. Does Echmarach have men at the Irish king’s court?”

“Men, Your Majesty?”

“Spies. How did you confirm Donaldbane is with Ímar mac Arailt?”

“Oh. Well. I don’t know for certain how such information was acquired. But the boy is there.”

“Echmarach has been a valuable ally. We shall reward him for that. Please, why don’t you gentlemen take your rest? Feast with us tonight. I will consider his proposition and give you an answer tomorrow,” Macbeth said then motioned to his servants to lead the men away.

“Thank you, Your Majesty,” Finnegan said, the others echoing him. They bowed then left.

“You knew Ímar mac Arailt had Donaldbane?” Macbeth asked.

“Yes. I sent a messenger to the Irish king some time back.”

“Any reply?”

“Not yet.”

“We will support Echmarach’s bid to topple the Irish king and recapture Donaldbane,” Macbeth said.

“No, we will not. We will negotiate with Ímar mac Arailt.”

“What? Why?”

“Because we aren’t strong enough to go to war in Ireland. We do not have the men, resources, support, or desire to wage another war. If we do, Siward will come running back.”

“And what do you expect Ímar mac Arailt will do? Hand Donaldbane over because you asked nicely?”

“No. I expect him to ask for Echmarach’s lands.”

Macbeth laughed. “And then what?”

“And then we will make a decision. How valuable is Donaldbane? If we leave him in Ireland, he will be used against us. At this time, the Irish king has no reason to entertain offers from Siward. At this time. But Siward is shrewd. He will not slink away. He will make new allies and regain his power. In time, he will be back. He will seek to take the throne from us on Malcolm's behalf. Wouldn’t it be better to have Irish support over Irish enemies?”

“Are you suggesting we offer him Echmarach’s lands?”

“No. You must think ahead. Always think ahead. Echmarach rules himself. Half of the time, he makes war on his Irish neighbors without the blessing or support of the other noble lords. He sees the isles as independent, and he lords over them as such. How presumptuous is he to send an envoy here to pressure us to make war?”

“You are right about that.”

“There is a third option.”

“Which is?”

“We support Echmarach, and we try to strike a bargain with Ímar mac Arailt. Neither will be the wiser. And we will also send an operative to Ímar mac Arailt’s court and liberate Donaldbane on our own.”

Macbeth stared at me. He huffed a laugh. “Who knew…”

“Who knew?”

“Who knew that you were more like Malcolm than any of the rest of us.”

It was my turn to laugh. “I am not like Malcolm.”

“If you say so. So, you suggest we play both sides.”

“Yes.”

“How will we explain it once the boy is recovered.”

“We will tell Ímar mac Arailt it was Echmarach’s doing. We will tell Echmarach we were planning it all along because we hate Ímar mac Arailt, then we step back and let them finish out whatever game they are playing. When they are done, we make peace with the winner.”

“Very well. I shall arrange to have operatives sent into Ireland.”

“Good.”

Macbeth nodded then stood staring at me.

The silence went on for too long.

The hairs the back of my neck rose.

“I should be going,” I said.

“Gruoch, where is Lulach?”

“What difference does it make?”

“People talk. It’s strange that he is not here with us.”

“Is it? Let people talk. If they knew the truth, they wouldn’t find it strange at all.”

“The truth? And what is the truth?”

“If we are to co-exist, it is better if we let the truth lie dead and buried.”

Macbeth scowled. “If Lulach plans to be king, he should be here at my side.”

“No. Don’t push on this topic.”

Macbeth slammed his fists down on the table. “It is you who is pushing. You are forcing me into a corner. I must have an heir, don’t you realize? To secure the throne, I must have an heir. You…you will produce no other child for me. Lulach must come here. I must show this land that I do have an heir, even if he is just my step-son.”

I exhaled lightly, trying not to let Macbeth’s words unnerve me. There was a grain of truth to what he said. The only problem was I would never let Macbeth near Lulach again. “We shall see.”

“You will do as I ask. You will bring that boy here, or I must make other arrangements.”

“Other arrangements? Like what? Divorce me? I would like to see you try.”

“There are other things that can be done.”

“I suppose you could try to kill me. Try, of course, being key there. What else could you possibly do to harm me that you haven’t already done?”

“Gruoch,” he said, his voice dark.

I sighed wearily. “I’ll leave for Moray soon. You can make your other arrangements then,” I said then turned and left the chamber.

“Gruoch?” Macbeth called.

I kept walking.

To my surprise, he rushed down the hall after me, grabbing my arm. “What do you mean you’re returning to Moray?”

“I think I was perfectly clear. I will return to Moray.”

“Lulach is not there.”

“I am well aware of that.”

“Lady Gruoch,” Killian called. He rushed down the hall toward me, pulling his blade as he went. “Your Majesty, I strongly suggest you let go of Lady Gruoch.”

“Or what?” Macbeth spat at him.

Killian’s gaze darkened, answering Macbeth’s threat.

“You see that? See how he disrespects me? I should have him killed,” Macbeth hissed.

“It’s not him you should be worried about. Leave it to you to miss the obvious,” I said, pressing the tip of Scáthach against Macbeth’s neck. “Now, let go of me, or I’ll plunge this dagger in an inch deep.”

Realizing the danger, Macbeth pushed me away from him.

I caught myself before I crashed against the wall.

“One day, I’ll melt that dagger down to nothing or maybe…maybe I’ll plunge it in your damned chest,” Macbeth said then turned and headed back into his chamber, slamming the door behind him.

I stared at the closed door. Had Macbeth just threatened to kill me?

“Gruoch, are you all right?” Killian asked, rushing to me.

In the hall around us, the servants had stopped to stare.

I nodded then slipped Scáthach back into her sheath. “Yes. I’m fine.”

“Bastard,” Killian spat, glaring at the chamber door. “I always heard rumors that Macbeth was unkind to you. I couldn’t believe it.”

“Well, now you see.”

“You would do well to return to Moray.”

“Yes.”

“In the meantime, you must have a guard on you at all time. No arguments.”

“If you insist.”

“I insist. Though I have to say, even I missed that move with the dagger. Who taught you that?”

“Uald.”

“Uald? That lady?”

I laughed. “Yes, that lady.”

“Secrets again?”

I nodded.

“Your secrets are safe with me, my lady.”

“And for that, I am grateful,” I said then cast a glance back at the conference room door. My heart was beating hard in my chest. I knew Macbeth. His ravings often amounted to nothing. But he was also a dangerous man. It had never occurred to me that he might actually kill me. Was it possible?

No. Not if Scáthach had anything to say about it.