Highland Queen

Chapter 27

While the castle was still under construction, Kirk saw that a small meal was prepared for Macbeth and me and our guard. We kept the conversation pleasant and light, Macbeth mainly asking about the construction of the castle and me keeping quiet as I mulled over my vision and fought off fatigue. The ride had taken more out of me than I had expected. I really needed to go north soon.

“Sir,” I said to Kirk, “has a chamber been prepared for me? I’m a bit weary.”

Kirk motioned for a servant to come forward. “No ladies’ maids on hand, Your Majesty. We could ask one of the cooks or serving girls—“

“No. I know well enough how to dress myself,” I said with a smile. “Thank you.”

Killian motioned for the other men to stay and eat while he joined the servant and me.

“This way, Your Majesty,” the servant said.

“Goodnight, Gruoch,” Macbeth called.

“Goodnight, Macbeth.”

The servant led me down the halls to a room on the second tier of the castle. Some of the rooms were still having masonry work completed, but the chambers on this end of the castle seemed to be in good condition.

“Here you are,” the servant said, opening the door. The room was simply adorned with a huge but old wooden bed. I could smell the scent of new straw therein. Skins lined the floors. There were no windows in the space.

Killian inspected the room, nodding when he found everything in order.

“I’ll have two guards on the door all night,” he told me.

“Thank you,” I told him. “And please, don’t forget to rest.”

He smiled.

“Do you need anything, Your Majesty?” the servant asked.

I looked around the room. Both water and wine had already been set out.

I shook my head. “No. Thank you.”

At that, they left me. I closed the door behind them then went and sat down on the bed. I sighed heavily, feeling overcome by weariness. I set my hand on my stomach.

“What do you think, little one? Do you like this old, magical place?”

I could sense my tiny babe there but heard nothing more.

I lay back and looked up at the stone ceiling. The land of the Parisi. Well, at least I was in the home of my allies once more. Closing my eyes, I soon drifted off to sleep.

It was the caw of a raven that woke me late that night. Sitting up, I listened intently. It sounded like the raven was in the castle, not outside.

Rising, I grabbed a taper and went to the door.

I was surprised to see that there was no guard stationed there.

“Killian? Camden?”

No one answered, but from deep within the castle, I heard the call of a raven once more. How strange.

Taking my candle with me, I followed the raven’s cries. I had nearly reached the feasting hall—and I had still not seen anyone else in the castle—when I heard the raven caw once more.

I looked all around, realizing that the sound was coming from the lower level of the castle. Maybe someone had a pet raven. They were smart birds. Some said they made good pets.

Panning my candle all around, I looked for any sign of the servants.

“Hello?” I called.

While the wall sconces were lit and there was a fire burning in the great hall, no one answered.

It was very late, and the castle was not fully staffed. Perhaps everyone was asleep.

Again, the raven called.

Grabbing my skirts, I went downstairs. It was only then that I realized I had left my gloves behind. They must have slipped off in my sleep. As before, my hands were covered in slick, red blood.

I frowned and told myself to ignore the sight.

I followed the winding castle down to the first level. Here, I caught the scent of the woods outside. Having not yet toured this level of the castle, I felt easily turned around. I looked about for a servant or soldier, but everything was quiet.

“Hello?”

Again, the raven cawed.

I passed through another elaborate hall and down a narrow hallway. Here, the castle stones were a different color. The rocks were darker. The candlelight woke the sparkles in the stones. They shimmered. The masonry was shaped differently here as well. When I studied the walls, I noticed someone had made carvings around the doorways.

I realized then that I was in the original section of the fortress. These stones were the first stones. These walls were the first walls. I reached out to touch them.

When my bloody fingertips grazed the stones, the entire castle seemed to shudder.

The raven cawed once more. It was somewhere inside. Somewhere still ahead. I shifted my taper and moved deeper into the castle. This part of the fortress had not yet been touched. It was full of dust and cobwebs. I followed a narrow hallway that led into a wide, open room. Old, broken furniture littered the place. As I gazed across the room, a sense of wonderment filled me. This was the hall of some forgotten king or queen. A cold hearth trimmed with finely chiseled masonry work was on one wall. A raised dais, where the throne must have once sat, was on the other side of the room.

I jumped when a fire sprang to life in the hearth.

A raven shrieked sharply.

I followed the sound.

I spotted a stairwell that I hadn’t seen before in one corner.

The raven cawed, its voice echoing up from below. Had the creature gotten trapped inside?

Moving carefully around the broken stones, I followed the sound of the raven, winding down the stairs.

The air chilled. I smelled the thick scents of loam and lime. I was moving underground. This part of the castle had been dug into the very mountain. When I reached the bottom of the stairs, I realized I was standing in a cave. Torches on the cave walls had been lit. A raven sat on a perch. When it saw me, it cawed then flew into one of the connecting tunnels.

My hands shaking, I followed the bird.

The gods were at work.

I walked down the dark passage. I heard the call of the raven ahead of me. A dim, blue light shined. I moved toward it. All the hairs on the back of my neck had risen. To my surprise, the amethyst gems on my raven torcs and amulet began to glow. I could feel the buzz of magic in the air. The scents of heady white sage perfumed the place. Under them, I smelled loamy earth and mud. Water trickled down the cave walls. The ground below me was wet.

As I walked, I noticed the cave walls were lined with tombs. The empty eye sockets of skeletons looked out at me. An arch trimmed with skulls led into an open space that was illuminated blue.

I crossed the threshold only to find myself standing in the chamber of the Lord of the Hollow Hills on Ynes Verleath. It was just as I had left it. The place was full of skeletons, the lord still seated on his throne. Blue flames shimmered in the sconces. And in the center of the space stood Andraste who was leaning against her staff.

The raven landed on the back of the throne of the Lord of the Hollow Hills. It cawed at Andraste then it turned and flew off down another tunnel.

“Well, now I know what all the screeching was about,” she said, her eyes following the bird. She looked back at me.

“Tell me the truth,” I said, glaring at Andraste. “You cannot hide from me now. The Goddess has brought both of us here. Tell me the truth about Lulach and Crearwy.”

“I moved you where you needed to go. I did as I was charged. I protected the land, and I moved you as the visions told me to.”

“And you lied to me.”

“Yes.”

“Lulach and Crearwy are Gillacoemgain’s children.”

“Yes.”

“And that night, you pushed me back into the world, then and there, knowing I would meet Duncan on the road.”

“Yes.”

“How could you do that to me?”

“I did what I must. We are all the tools of the gods. I moved you so that a thousand other seeds would grow. I moved you as I foresaw. I moved you as I had to.”

“Have you no pity? No love?”

“Love?” Andraste said, scoffing. “What is love to a creature like me? You cannot escape your fate. Good and bad comes to us all. Do you think I wanted to live on after everything I loved crumbled to nothing, after everyone I loved was killed?” she said, motioning around her. “Do you think I wanted to take on the heavy burden given to me? We cannot escape our destinies. The Goddess has her ways. Her eyes see farther than ours. And we must move as she decrees.”

“But the cost.”

“There is no cost; there is only destiny.”

“No. I would have made different choices.”

“But you were not given a chance, as fate decreed.”

“Don’t riddle with me, Andraste. You turned my life into a lie. You took everything from me.”

“And yet,” she said, motioning to my stomach, “something has come back to you. Don’t hate me, Cerridwen. I only do as the Goddess bids. One day you will too.”

“Never,” I spat.

Andraste crossed the room and stood before me. The lines on her ancient face were deep and grooved. I remembered what Epona said, that Andraste herself had become a Goddess. Once, she had been a mortal girl like me. Was that the fate the Goddess had laid out for me—for Cerridwen—that I would become like Andraste? I couldn’t think of a destiny any less appealing.

“I am sorry, Cerridwen. Now, go from this place,” she said then reached toward me. “Out, out brief candle,” she whispered, then snubbed the light on my wick.

I shuddered then found myself standing in complete darkness.

My heart was beating hard in my chest.

I stilled and listened. It was so silent. Reaching out, I felt for the wall. I touched cut stone. Patting the wall, I moved slowly across the room, nearly stumbling when my foot found the stairs leading upward. Moving carefully, I made my way up the steps. As I neared the top, a dim light shone. I was in the ancient throne room of the castle.

Retracing my steps, I wound my way down the hall on the first floor of the castle. A few moments later, I heard voices.

“Here, let’s go down here,” someone called, panic in their voice.

Following the sound, I made my way forward. I exited a hallway to find myself face to face with one of Macbeth’s soldiers.

His eyes went wide. “She’s here. She’s here. I’ve found her,” the man screamed.

Behind him, I heard a flood of footsteps.

Killian appeared at the end of the hall. He rushed toward me. “Gruoch,” he called.

Macbeth’s soldier raised an eyebrow but said nothing.

I looked out the window. To my surprise, the sun was rising. The horizon was lit bright pink and yellow. It was morning once more.

There was shouting all around the castle.

“Gruoch, where were you?” Killian asked.

I shook my head.

A moment later, Macbeth turned the corner. His sword was drawn. He had a look of panic on his face.

What in the world was happening?

“Gruoch,” Macbeth called, crossing the hall toward me as he slipped his sword back in its sheath. “Thank god. Are you all right?”

“I’m fine. Please, there is no cause for alarm. I’m fine. I think I…I got turned around in the castle.”

Macbeth turned on Killian, rage in his eyes. “How did you let this happen?”

“Your Majesty,” Killian said, his voice stiff. “We didn’t even know she was out of the room until this morning.”

“How is that possible?” Macbeth spat.

“We…we don’t know. We had a guard on her door all night.”

Both men turned and looked at me.

“I think I was walking in my sleep,” I said, knowing then how ridiculous the excuse sounded.

“But how did you get out of the room without your guard noticing?” Macbeth asked.

“When the watch changed, maybe,” I said, meeting Killian’s dark blue eyes. I begged his help.

“Yes. Yes, I forgot about that. When the watch changed, there may have been enough time,” Killian said, his gaze on me.

“Change your procedures, soldier,” Macbeth said roughly. He reached out to take my arm, but I moved away from him. “Please, Gruoch,” he said. “We were afraid someone had abducted you. We turned the castle inside out searching for you.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“Please come. Let’s have some of your sweet herbs and settle all our nerves,” he said. It was then I realized how pale he looked, his eyes wild.

I nodded. “All right.” I set my hand on Kilian’s arm. “I’m all right,” I said, reassuring him. I then turned and went with Macbeth.

“Gruoch, are you sure you’re unharmed?” Macbeth asked.

“Yes. I’m sorry I frightened everyone.”

Macbeth nodded. “I was…I was frightened,” he said in a soft voice. “If something ever happened to you, I would never have the chance to win your forgiveness.”

I felt my heart harden. I would hear nothing from him. Nothing. “Well, we wouldn’t want that.”

Macbeth sighed.

I ignored him, my mind turning to what I had seen.

Despite how strange and horrible Andraste’s truth was, the truth was revealed at last. Andraste had deceived and lied to me.

But in the end—in the end—Lulach and Crearwy belonged to Gillacoemgain. Knowing that gave me a piece of my husband back, something I thought had been lost forever. And no matter how angry I was at Andraste, I also blessed her.

No one had ever told me a better lie.