Highland Queen

Chapter 6

We rode throughout the day without incident. Bonfires lit the fields as we made our way south, a signal to us that the north was on our side. They were lighting our way to glory. From sunup to sunset, we rode southward. That night, the men of Moray prepared my tent. Across the field, I could see Macbeth amongst his own men. We hadn’t spoken since the sparse words we had exchanged that morning. It was for the best. I wouldn’t waste my breath on him. Once the tent was settled, I went inside to rest.

“Tira and I will find us something to eat, my lady,” Rhona said. “There are guards here to keep watch. I can smell that the soldiers are cooking. Let’s see what they’ve made.”

“May the Great Mother protect us,” Tira said with a laugh, exiting behind Rhona.

I chuckled then began pulling off my armor. My whole body ached.

“My lord,” one of the soldiers outside my tent said.

“My lord,” the second echoed.

I scowled. The last thing I wanted was to see or talk to Macbeth. I was relieved when Banquo called my name.

“Gruoch?”

“Come.”

He entered the tent, closing the drape behind him. “I can’t stay long. I just wanted to make sure you’re all right.”

“Road-weary but well enough. How are the men?”

“Good. Eager to get to Scone.”

I nodded. “Are there any reports from our scouts?”

Banquo nodded. “The way south is clear, for the most part. There are mercenaries hiding in the woods, but our soldiers are making quick work of them. We have captured some of Northumbria’s spies. Otherwise, most of the lords who allied with Duncan have remained within their keeps, their armies disbanded. I suspect they will seek to broker peace.”

Outside my tent, one of my soldiers said, “Sir,” a hard tone in his voice.

“Sir. My lady is engaged,” Killian said. His shadow reflected on the tent, he moved protectively toward the tent opening. Another second soldier joined him, blocking the path.

Banquo and I both turned.

“Gruoch, perhaps you should remind the men of Moray that I’m about to be crowned king,” Macbeth called.

Still, the Moray soldiers didn’t move.

I met Banquo’s eye. A thousand unspoken words passed between us. I shook my head then pushed the heavy fabric of the tent door aside.

“You should applaud them for their loyalty to your wife and queen. It’s good to know that Moray will always see that I am safe. Did you need something?”

Macbeth frowned hard. “I understand Banquo is here. I would like to discuss the reports from the south.”

I glared at him, unable to hide my disgust. “Let him pass,” I told Killian. “This time only,” I added under my breath.

“Yes, my lady,” Killian replied, meeting my eyes.

I stepped back inside.

This was only the beginning. Somehow, I was going to have to find a way to live with this man, rule alongside him. I was going to have to find a way to co-exist with someone I utterly loathed. How does a person do that without losing their mind?

“Banquo,” Macbeth said, giving him a nervous smile.

Banquo inclined his head to Macbeth. “I was telling Gruoch that our scouts indicate that the way south is mostly clear. There are a few small bands, paid men, in the hills. I have sent men to route them already. Siward has spies out, but the Northumbrian army has withdrawn all the way back to their own lands. The southern lords have gone home, their armies dispersed.”

“What resistance Siward tried to rally has come to nothing,” Macbeth said.

“Once Duncan fell, there was no support. Even the southern lords will not back the Earl of Northumbria,” Banquo said.

“What about Crinian and Bethoc?” I asked.

“Still in Edinburgh,” Macbeth replied. “We believe that Suthen and Malcolm fled south when the fighting began.”

“How deep?” I asked.

Macbeth shook his head. “I don’t know yet.”

Banquo turned to me. “From what we were able to extract from Siward’s spies, I believe they have withdrawn to the court of Harthacnut.”

Harthacnut was the son of King Cnut who passed during the struggles. Cnut’s timing was certainly excellent, but by all accounts, Harthacnut was worse than his father. Hated by the people of England, inept and cruel, he didn’t strike me as long for the throne. He’d already lost Norway to Magnus and Thorfinn. But sending Malcolm and Suthen to Harthacnut was a wise play on Siward’s part. One day, they would return to take what Macbeth and I had stolen.

“A smart play,” Banquo said.

I nodded.

Macbeth turned to me. “I understand that Donaldbane was taken prisoner by the Irish king and that you’ve sent word.”

“Yes.”

“We must try to ransom him,” Macbeth said.

“The cost will be very high,” Banquo warned. “He will want the isles from Echmarcach.”

Macbeth nodded, considering. “That will brew another war. We should finish this one first. We’ll find another way.”

I raised an eyebrow at Macbeth. That was the first sensible thing I had heard Macbeth say in years.

“Agreed,” Banquo said.

At that, Macbeth smiled softly then turned to me. “And you? Are you in agreement?”

I gave him a steely gaze. What game was he playing? Or was he, too, trying to find a path forward. “Yes. For now.”

Macbeth nodded. “Thorfinn and Magnus have taken the fleet north, Magnus for his throne, Thorfinn for Ingibjorg.”

At that, Banquo chuckled.

“Do they expect any resistance?” I asked.

Macbeth smiled. “Only from Ingibjorg’s father. It will be easier to subdue Norway.”

At that, Banquo laughed. I could not help but grin, feeling glad for Thorfinn that he would finally be with the woman he so adored.

I cast a glance at Banquo who smiled gently at me. I returned the gesture.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Macbeth stiffen. “Well then. We’ll ride in the morning. I’ll see to the men now,” Macbeth said.

Banquo turned back to Macbeth. “Very good. I’ll inform you if any further news comes through from the field.”

“Thank you, Banquo,” Macbeth said then went to the tent flap. He paused. “Goodnight, Gruoch.”

“Goodnight,” I replied.

The tent flapped in Macbeth’s wake. I exhaled a deep sigh of relief.

“Let me get us some wine,” Banquo said as he rummaged through the supplies that had come from Moray. Digging into the trunk, he pulled out two goblets and a decanter, pouring a drink for us both. He handed one to me.

I moved to pull off my glove but paused.

No.

It would be better if I left them on.

I took the goblet.

“Are your hands cold?” Banquo asked.

“Yes,” I lied.

Banquo raised an eyebrow but said nothing. I hated that he knew when I wasn’t telling the truth. Sighing, Banquo drank. “Well, there is one bit of good news. Macbeth seemed steadier that I have seen him in years.”

“Seeming is not being.”

“True.”

“And what do your druid’s eyes tell you?” I asked.

“When it comes to Macbeth, my vision is like muddy water. Seeing him a madman lets me keep him at a distance. It keeps you away from him. It keeps you with me. Seeing him well makes me pity him. If he is well, he can be your husband again, which my heart will not permit. But a steady Macbeth means a steady Scotland. We need him to be steady, not for us, but for the country.”

“I agree that he needs to be well for the good of the country, but you are wrong on one count. It doesn’t matter if he recovers his wits. I will never permit that man near my heart again.”

Banquo raised his goblet. “Praised be the gods.”

I lifted mine as well. “Yes, praised may they be,” I said.

Chuckling, Banquo drank. But I froze. I stared at my hand. The fabric of my glove was marred by red spots. The blood had seeped through.

“Praised may they be,” I whispered again then drank the wine knowing that what I was seeing was not possible. And even though it was not possible, the spots of blood remained.