Highland Queen

Chapter 30

That night, for the first time in months, I truly slept. Something about lying in the bed I had shared with Gillacoemgain made my heart feel safe. I was behind the walls of my own castle and surrounded by my own people. No harm could come to me or my unborn child here. I set my hand on my stomach. The little one inside jiggled, the fluttering feeling making my heart stir with joy.

I sighed contentedly.

“Ah, are you awake?” a familiar voice called.

“Good morning, Morag.”

“Afternoon, actually,” she said. I heard her chair scrape as she rose. “I have some food here for you. No doubt, you are hungry.”

“Famished.”

Morag chuckled. “That’s the way it is after the morning sicknesses pass. You look about that far along.”

I sat up. “Morag!”

“Oh, don’t worry. I doubt many other eyes would notice. They probably all thought you were getting round off the rich, southern food. Now, does my Thane know he’s going to have a wee babe?”

“He does.”

“Good. Otherwise, he was about to get a big surprise,” she said then grinned at me.

A moment later, there was a knock on the door. Morag went to answer. I heard low voices, then a moment later, Banquo walked into the room.

“Gruoch,” he said, rushing to me.

“Call me if you need me, lady,” Morag said then pulled the door closed behind her.

Thora, who was lying by the fire, lifted her head and whined at Banquo, her tail thumping.

“Banquo! What are you doing here?” I asked.

“I didn’t want to be apart from you a moment more. Oh, my Cerridwen, look at you,” he said, taking my belly into his hands. He kissed my stomach then leaned in and kissed me. “How are you feeling?”

“Very well. She’s started moving about.”

“Any problems, issues?”

“None.”

Banquo exhaled deeply. “May the gods be praised,” he said then flopped down onto the bed with me.

I laced my hand in his then lay my head on his chest. “How I’ve missed you.”

“And I you,” he said, then kissed my forehead.

I closed my eyes, feeling a deep sense of bliss.

I passed the summer in Moray, continuing to guide the country as best I could, and ruling the north. My work felt good, right. Perhaps this separation between Macbeth and me was for the best. The north was at peace and prospering. The south was quiet. Dispatches came regularly from Macbeth. He kept me abreast on what was happening and the progress on Dunsinane. Madelaine wrote as well. Macbeth was holding steady, though he seemed greatly distracted. Again, I thought about suggesting Macbeth pursue his pilgrimage to Rome, but the timing was not right. Winter would come soon enough. And with it would come my daughter. As much as I hated to admit it, I needed Macbeth.

“Before the weather turns and you get much larger, we should remove to Lochaber,” Banquo told me as we sat beside the fire in my chamber late one night. “It is three days’ journey. I don’t want you to make the trip in the cold.”

“When do you want to go?”

“When can you leave?”

“Tomorrow.”

Banquo laughed. “I’ll make arrangements. Morag should come with us.”

“Yes. If she’s willing to travel so far. I will work with Standish. He can tell any riders I am traveling to the north.”

Banquo slid his chair toward mine and set his hand on my belly. “What will we do after she’s born? I’m plagued by the question.”

As was I. “I don’t know.”

“I don’t want you to give up being queen. And for Lulach’s sake, you cannot. But she’s our child. You won’t be able to acknowledge her. Will that be too hard for you?”

I bit my lip. My hands shook as I braced myself. “It won’t be the first time.”

“The first time for what?”

“For…for me to have a child I could not acknowledge.”

Banquo sat back, a look of surprise on his face.

“Do you remember when we first came to Moray. They asked me about my twins. I…I lied. I told them my other child had died. She didn’t. She is alive and well.”

“What? Where is she?”

“With Epona.”

“Why?”

“The gods decreed that she would be the next leader of our coven. Epona and Andraste urged me to leave her to the gods. And Madelaine and I…we had our own reasons for not wanting her to join court life. I wanted to save my child from the treachery of this world and give her the life I was denied.”

Banquo sat back in his chair. He stroked his chin as he thought.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a flicker as Gillacoemgain’s shade appeared. He watched Banquo.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Banquo asked.

“No one knew. I planned to tell you, in time. I did not mean to deceive you. Everything was in shambles when I first arrived. Time slipped away, and… Banquo?”

Banquo stilled. He straightened in his seat then turned and glanced around his room, his eyes resting on Gillacoemgain’s shade. I looked up at Gillacoemgain who stood with his arms folded across his chest.

The two men stared at one another a moment then Gillacoemgain faded.

Banquo shook his head then turned back to me. “I won’t speak against your choices. Your daughter was Gillacoemgain’s, and you did what you could to protect her. Her father seems to stand by your decision,” he said, smiling softly. “And I have already made the wrong decision in my allegiance to Moray. I won’t make that mistake a second time. My Cerridwen…how difficult it must have been for you. Such a painful choice.”

“It was.”

“With Gillacoemgain dead, you had no one.”

“That’s right. He was dead, and I was on my way to marry his killer. I did not want my daughter to suffer my choices. Lulach, I knew, could endure. But my daughter…”

Banquo nodded. “I am sorry you have carried this secret burden. I love you, Cerridwen. Nothing will ever change that.”

I reached out and stroked his cheek with my gloved hand.

“What is your daughter’s name?” Banquo asked.

“Crearwy, after her aunt, Gillacoemgain’s sister.”

Banquo smiled. “One day, we will go together and see her.”

“She’s a very smart girl, very strong. She has the stuff of MacAlpin in her.” In truth, Crearwy showed herself to be made of stronger fiber—the kind of steel needed to rule—than Lulach. While my son was destined for the throne, he always had an Otherworldly sense about him. Crearwy was a far different matter.

“We will find a way for our child. When Merna died, I didn’t know what I was going to do. But because of you, I found a path forward.”

“Do you think Balor would bring the boys to Lochaber? I ache for Lulach.”

Banquo nodded. “I will ask. Shall we make our plans to depart?” Banquo asked.

“On one condition.”

“Which is?”

“You get to ask Morag.”

He laughed. “Fine.”

I looked at Thora who lay sleeping. As for me, I had something else to do.