Highland Queen

Chapter 31

I waited patiently for Thora at the top of the steps leading to the second floor of the unused part of the castle. She dawdled along slowly, finally reaching the top step. She was panting hard. Lighting a taper, we headed down the hall to the door that led to Crearwy’s chamber…and beyond. Today, I needed to find the beyond.

I knelt and pet Thora’s head.

“I think you know where we are going,” I told her.

She licked my hand and pawed at me.

I gazed into her brown eyes. “How little you were when I found you on that hill. No bigger than a tiny babe. But your feet were half the size of my hands. Did the fey really send you to me as the priest complained?”

Thora’s eyes sparkled, and she wagged her tail.

“Willful, magical dog. Let’s see what we can do to draw things out a bit more for you,” I said then set my hand on the latch. I closed my eyes. Gathering magic around me, I opened the door.

Waving for Thora to follow, we entered to find ourselves standing on the cauldron terrace at Ynes Verleath.

Nimue, who had been reading, looked up. Andraste’s eyes, however, were on her cauldron.

“Cerridwen,” Nimue said, standing.

“Sister, I’ve come to ask a favor.”

Nimue looked at Andraste who had not looked away from the cauldron.

“Of course,” Nimue said, frowning at Andraste’s lack of engagement. “What is it?”

“It’s Thora,” I said, motioning to my dog. “The war wearied her. I know her time is coming. She is moving so slowly. I hoped maybe…”

Nimue knelt and clapped her hands, calling Thora to her. “What do you think, Graymalkin? Will you stay with me? Very soon, your mistress will join us. Stay with Andraste and me, and it will seem as if no time has passed at all.”

Thora wagged her tail then went to Nimue.

I stared at Nimue. “What do you mean, I will join you soon enough?”

At that, Andraste finally looked up. “We will look after her. Now go. Stay no more for the sake of Aelith,” she said, eyeing my growing belly, then she waved her hand in front of her.

I pitched sideways as I suddenly found myself standing in Crearwy’s chamber once more.

“Andraste, you old crone. You didn’t even let me say goodbye,” I complained loudly to Andraste who, I knew, could still hear me.

My hands drifted to my stomach. “Aelith,” I whispered. “A lovely name, isn’t it, my rose?”

I turned to go but spotted the shade of Gillacoemgain’s sister standing by her bed.

How much she and my Crearwy looked alike. It moved my heart to no end to know, for certain, it was no mere coincidence. I was angry with Andraste for her deception, angry beyond measure. But the truth was far sweeter.

Crearwy motioned for me to come close to her. With ghostly hands, she touched the small wooden box at her bedside.

Following her gesture, I opened the box. Therein lay small trinkets, rings, and necklaces, ladies’ things.

Crearwy touched a small silver pin lying in the box. On it was the same flower that trimmed Gillacoemgain’s dagger, broach, and even his seal. She motioned for me to take it.

I picked it up and looked it over.

Crearwy moved to touch my hands, to press the item toward me, but she hesitated. Even her spirit would not touch my cursed fingers.

“I will give it to Crearwy,” I told her.

She nodded then looked back in her box once more. This time, she touched a small ring. It was a dainty silver thing with a piece of amber at its center.

I lifted the ring from the box.

Crearwy smiled once more, this time setting her ghostly hands on my stomach. She inclined her head, then gave me the softest of smiles. Meeting my eyes once more, she slowly disappeared.

I closed my eyes, feeling hot tears burning behind my lids. Poor girl. Poor spirit. Poor lost sister. How everything would have been different if evil had not lodged itself in the hearts of foul men. Crearwy was the sister I never had, and in her countenance, I saw that same soft spirit that had lived in Gillacoemgain. I felt like I had missed my entire life, like a version of myself existed in a different reality where they both had endured, me along with them.

But it was not so.

And because it was not so, I was carrying the child of the man I loved.

What a bittersweet irony.

“My lady, I hate to see you leave,” Standish said as he helped me into the wagon. He had fluttered about me all morning as we got ready to depart for Lochaber.

“I hope to be back in the spring. We shall see what the season holds for us all.”

Standish nodded. “Stay safe, Lady Gruoch. And give the young mormaer my greetings. We are looking forward to seeing him again.”

I smiled. “Thank you, Standish.”

I nodded to Banquo who was mounted on his own stead. He had come to Moray with a contingent of his own loyal soldiers. We were more than protected, but Killian and a small group of Moray men had insisted on coming along to Lochaber. I decided not to dissuade them. Remembering Rhona and Tira’s words, I pitied Killian. He had lost everything in the war trying to protect Moray and Gillacoemgain—and he was still doing that job. How could I stop him?

The journey took three days, but the ride was not hard. The countryside, dotted with rivers and lochs, was beautiful. The summer sun shone down on us. I missed being in the forest. I missed the smells of pine, loam, and flowers. I knew my daughter was angry with me for settling her in a life of service, but it was a peaceful life. In many ways, I envied Crearwy as much as I knew she envied me. I only hoped that in the future, she would come to understand my reasons. Given she had not had to endure the same struggles as Madelaine and me, such a realization might not come easy for her. But my daughter was intelligent. Even if she didn’t feel it, perhaps knowing would be enough. I hoped so.

Soon, the River Lochy came into view.

“Tor Castle sits on a hill above the river. Look there,” Banquo said, pointing in the distance.

Following his gesture, I spotted a castle tower looming high above the trees not far from the water.

I smiled at Banquo. While he had always been a part of my life, I had not been privy to this part of his world. I remembered him telling me that his father had been a cruel man. When I was married to Gillacoemgain, his father had passed, his mother died while I had been at Ynes Verleath. Banquo had lived the life of a druid, a wanderer. As chief of Macbeth’s generals and loyal to Thorfinn, he’d spent most of his time in the field and little time in his ancestral halls. Now, however, he had a reason to go home.

The wagon slipped through the castle gate. The tall castle had high walls, the inner yard safely hidden behind the stone. Banquo dismounted and began directing his servants. Morag, who’d been riding with me, slowly slipped out of the wagon.

“Come along, Lady Gruoch. Let’s see what the thane has prepared for you and how much I have to fix to make it right.”

Banquo grinned. “Morag, I did my best. I swear. But I will leave Gruoch in your capable hands while I see the men settled in and attend to affairs.”

I gave Banquo’s hand a squeeze. Turning, I caught Killian’s eye. I inclined my head toward the castle, letting him know I was going inside.

He nodded to me.

I followed Morag into the castle. I was surprised to find that the ceiling was very high. Stairs twisted up the wall to the second-floor balcony that overlooked the massive, open great room. There was an enormous hearth at one end of the room. Light shone in through the embrasures on the walls. A huge chandelier made of deer horn hung over the central open space.

“Kitchens and meeting rooms on the first floor,” Morag said, gesturing to the hallways leading from the great hall. “On the second floor, some private rooms,” she added, pointing to the doors that looked over the balcony. “The hallway leads to chambers and the stairs to the third floor. It’s really a small place, once you get used to it.”

“Morag?” a voice called.

Morag and I turned to find an elderly gentleman crossing the room toward us. He was a slight thing who looked like he could be blown over in a sharp breeze. He had wispy white hair on his head. He was dressed in the tartan of Lochaber.

“Lewis,” Morag said warmly. Surprisingly, very warmly.

“What a welcome return this is. And is this Her Majesty?”

“Yes, this is Lady Gruoch.”

“So very, very pleased to meet you,” the man said, bowing to me. I reached out to stop him, afraid he might not be able to righten himself if he bowed too low.

“Lewis, where has the thane asked for Lady Gruoch to be lodged?”

The man shifted. “He’s taken the chambers in the southern end of the castle. He…his lodgings—and hers—are there. Though I’ve also readied an adjoining room,” the man said, flicking an eye at me.

“Don’t worry, Lady Gruoch,” Morag said, taking my arm. “You are in Lochaber. Not a soul in this castle will speak a word about anything they see here.”

“No, Your Majesty, we certainly will not,” Lewis agreed.

“We are all loyal to this house. Lewis has been here longer than me. But don’t let our old bones worry you. There are plenty of young, strapping boys and girls about to get things done. And, of course, your Moray men. She has her own guard,” Morag told Lewis.

“Oh! Very good. I will make arrangements for their comfort.”

“Thank you,” I told the man.

“Come along, my lady,” Morag said, leading me upstairs. “Now, there is one thing you must know about Tor Castle.”

“What is that?”

“Despite all our love and loyalty, we have the worst cooks in the realm.”

“All things considered, that is terrible news,” I said, my hand resting on my stomach. I laughed.

Morag laughed. “Don’t worry, Lady Gruoch. Don’t worry. I’ll look after you as best I can. And I’ll send for my niece to help me.”

“You have a niece?”

She nodded. “Smart girl. She always wanted to come to the castle. She’ll help me look after you since Rhona and Tira were too lazy to come this far.”

“I think they missed their families.”

“They are lady’s maids, and their lady is with child. Well, no matter. Come along. I’ll have you settled in no time.”

Morag led me upstairs to the second floor. We followed a narrow hallway which led to yet another set of steps to the third floor.

“This is the family wing. The southern end has the best view of the river,” Morag told me.

She led me to a chamber at the end of the hall. She pushed open a wide door to reveal a beautifully bedecked room.

“Well, look at that,” she said, her hands on her hips. “It’s all new.”

“All new?”

“The bed, the linens, the rugs, the tapestries. This was the old thane’s chamber. Banquo closed it. But look at this place, like life has been breathed in once more,” she said then chuckled. “My thane is acting like a newly married man.”

Stepping inside, I turned around to look at the room. Red and blue silk drapes covered the bed. The room was made of fine furnishings, the tapestries on the walls depicting forest and farm scenes.

“Lovely,” I said, turning about.

“Why don’t you take a little rest, my lady? I doubt they expected you to be such a worker. I’ll see to it that you have a conference chamber ready,” Morag said then left me alone.

I went to the window. The room had a good view of the river. I could see the mountains and fields all around. Lochaber was beautiful. Wind blew in the open casement, carrying with it a warm summer breeze. I closed my eyes and let the wind caress my cheek.

“Well, my little one, what do you think of this place?” I whispered, setting my hand on my stomach.

The baby moved and kicked.

I laughed. “I agree.”

I left the chamber and explored the other rooms in the hallway. Beside our bedchamber, another room had been prepared. There were other chambers all along the hall, many of them recently refreshed. At the other end of the hallway, however, I found a second large bedchamber. This one looked out on the forest. The place had not been used of late, but I noticed there were ladies’ things—a spinning wheel, dresses, and a tray with a comb and mirror sitting at the bedside. I looked at the small ladies’ items, spotting a familiar comb amongst them. The adornment was made of ivory, a merwoman carved on it. It was Merna’s. This must have been the room she and Banquo had once shared.

I glanced around the room.

I didn’t feel Merna’s presence there, but all the same, I felt like I was intruding. I exited the space. Retracing my steps, I found the stairs leading to the second floor. I worked my way down the hall, looking here and there, familiarizing myself with the castle. Morag was right. It was a small citadel, but it was warm and cheerful.

I had just arrived on the balcony overlooking the second floor when Banquo entered.

In that single moment, my breath caught in my throat. If we had gotten married from the start, would I have been lady here? How many times would I have come to this balcony to welcome my husband? Lochaber, rather than Moray, would have become my home. It was a beautiful country with tall mountains, dense forests, and lochs.

I smiled at Banquo.

He returned the gesture. His expression told me he shared my thoughts.

Maybe everything had been delayed.

Maybe a life with Banquo had seemed impossible.

But here I was.

At last.

At last.

Banquo.