Highland Raven

Chapter 16

I was not visited again by the Wyrd Sisters all that summer, but I remembered my visits to them and began practicing their art. I sought visions in the flames or in the cauldron, looking for what I knew and what I didn’t. Mostly I sought Sid, when she was away from the coven, Madelaine, and Banquo. Once I found Madelaine at Malcolm’s court, the King looking at his half-sister with disinterest. Sid was harder to find. She always appeared like a shimmering silhouette surrounded by hues of green. There were people, glimmering people, near her, laughing, but I could never quite make anyone out. When I found Banquo, I could not see where he was, but around him I often saw darkness and fire. Sometimes I would catch glimpses of the black-haired man, usually at the side of his blond-haired warrior giant friend and at sea. Despite the Wyrd Sister’s words about him being my King, my curiosity had faded. I wanted Banquo, not a phantom.

Thora was growing into her fat little feet, and with the passage of time, she had grown several inches. As Banquo had mentioned, I began teaching her how to track. I started with little things, just hiding objects in my cabin and letting her find them. It wasn’t very long until she seemed expert at the task.

Thora and I were not the only ones growing, changing. It was harvest season. Just days before the autumnal equinox, I woke to find Gwendelofar crying. She was curled up on her bed.

“What’s wrong?” I asked.

“Oh, Cerridwen,” she whispered. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to wakes you.”

I slid out of my bed and on hers. I put my arm around her. “What’s happened? Should I get Epona?”

Gwendelofar shook her head.

“What is it, sister?”

“I’m pregnant,” she whispered. “I want the child, but I’ll have to leave, and I have nowhere to go.”

“The father? It’s…Sigurd?”

She nodded glumly. “Oh Cerridwen, think I loves him, but I don’t know where he is or if he loves me! My child is a Beltane babe!”

Gwendelofar was shaking. I took her hands. “Sigurd will be here for the harvest festival any day now. Talk to him. Tell him your feelings. Perhaps he feels the same. The child is merry-begot, which means it will be a special child. Perhaps Sigurd will want to raise the child with you.”

“I don’t know,” Gwendelofar said sadly.

On Beltane, any child conceived is a child of the Stag God, the Father God, the wild man of the forest, not the human father. The human father could not claim and had no right to a merry-begot babe. This also meant the father had no responsibility toward that child. It would solely be on choice, both Sigurd’s and Gwendelofar’s, if they should raise the child together.

“Well, soon you will learn. If not, you will raise the child yourself. Madelaine can find a place for you and your child in her household.”

“Really? You’re sure?”

“Yes,” I said without hesitation. Knowing Madelaine, I knew I didn’t even have to ask. And with Alister gone, it would be a safer place. Or at least I hoped.

“Fate gives me a mixed blessing,” she whispered, wiping away a tear.

“That’s something fate likes to do,” I answered. I thought of my own mixed blessings—how much I loved Madelaine, but how much I wished I could have been raised by my own parents. But then I remembered, when it had been put to the question, I had once chosen Madelaine over Boite.

That cold winter eve when I had found my father in the snow, we rode back to Alister’s castle, surprising an unsuspecting Madelaine. My father convinced Tavis and I not to announce his arrival. He wanted to surprise his sister.

“This way, father,” I told him, trying to hide the excitement in my voice as I led my father down the hallway to the small sitting room where Madelaine and the others sat sewing beside the fire.

I kept turning again and again to look at him. He was so enormous, like a giant bear in his furs. He smiled kindly at me. Every time I looked at him, I searched his face for myself. And every time, be it the shape of his nose, the line of his brow, or his eyes, I found traces of myself there. When I was with my father, it made me feel like I actually belonged somewhere, to someone. I loved Madelaine, but she was not truly my mother.

“Wait here,” I told my father as I pushed open the chamber door.

Madelaine looked up at me. “Corbie, I’ve been worried. Where did you fly off to, Little Raven?”

“I went to get a present for you.”

“For me?” She set down her sewing and looked at me. “What do you have today? Let me see!”

“It’s quite large,” I told her. “Close your eyes.”

The other ladies in the room suddenly became interested.

Madelaine giggled. “All right, my dear,” she said then closed her eyes.

I opened the door to let my father in. I put my finger to my lips, shushing the other women in the room who all gasped when I led Boite inside. I led him to stand in front of Madelaine.

“Ready?” I asked.

Madelaine wrinkled her nose. “I smell snow.”

“Open your eyes,” I told her.

When Madelaine opened her eyes, a shocked expression crossed her face. She dropped everything and jumped up, wrapping her arms around her brother’s neck. Boite had to hold her by the waist to keep her up.

“My brother!” she said excitedly. “My brother! Why have you come? Is anything the matter?”

Taking their cue, the waiting women picked up their belongings and left.

“Here, come close to the fire,” she told him, pulling a chair near the hearth. She pushed him into the seat then began unlacing his boots. “You’re chilled to the bone. Warm your feet by the flames. Corbie, get your daddy a mulled wine,” she told me, sending me scrambling. “Is it Malcolm? Has he died? Alister? He was at court. Has anything happened to him? Is war coming?”

“Sister, sister,” Boite said with a laugh. “Peace, sister. I do come with family news, but the news is fair,” he said.

I poured a mulled wine from the copper decanter sitting by the fire and handed it to my father. He took the drink from me then kissed my hand.

I stood behind Madelaine and watched.

“I’ve a new wife,” he said then.

Madelaine stopped for a moment, her hands growing still. She didn’t look up.

Boite drank his wine. “Northern girl. A daughter of Moray. She’s quite young. I’ve got her at Malcolm’s court. I’ve come…I’ve come to see if Gruoch would like to join her stepmother.”

For a moment, Madelaine said nothing. “If she would like?”

I stared at both of them. What did he mean he had a new wife? Would he really take me to Malcolm’s court? Would I really join the royal household? Certainly, I deserved to be there as much as anyone. But how could I leave Madelaine?

“I’ve no wish to break the hearts of the two women I love most in this world. It is Gruoch’s choice. I would not abuse either of you by forcing my will on the matter.”

Boite looked from Madelaine to me. His eyes were soft. The awkwardness of the situation struck all of us. My father wanted me. I could live the life of a royal girl, be exposed to all the niceties of court rather than the debauchery of this castle. I could be near him. And in exchange, I would leave the woman who raised and loved me.

Madelaine turned at looked at me. “Don’t answer now. Think it over,” she said then looked back at her brother. “Tell us about your new wife,” she said then, pulling off Boite’s boots.

“Aedha. She’s a wee lass. Pleasant spirit, but not hardy stock. I had expected more from Moray. She is sweet and kind.”

Madelaine nodded. “Is she one of us?” she asked. One of us. Madelaine used the phrase from time to time. One of us, a follower of the old ways, those who carry on the belief in the ancient things.

Boite shook his head. “There are not so many of us left, dear sister.”

I stared at them. My father wanted me. He wanted me with him. My heart sung. But then I looked at Madelaine. I had grown up under her watchful eyes, felt her loving kisses. Madelaine had always put me first. How many times had she taken a blow from Alister then straightened her back and attended to my needs with no thought for herself. There was nothing worse I could have done to Madelaine than leave her.

“I’ll stay with Madelaine,” I blurted out, interrupting their conversation.

They both turned and looked at me.

“Are you certain?” Madelaine asked. “The court life would be a good life for you. You would be able to get to know everyone, grow up amongst the royal ladies, alongside your cousins.”

I shook my head. “I’ll stay here,” I told Madelaine whose eyes watered. I turned to my father. “If you’ll pardon me, father, I will stay with Madelaine.”

My father smiled at me. “Praise the gods you love each other so well. As you will, Little Raven. But should you ever wish to come, you are welcome.”

Fate. Fate had offered me my father. But my will had trumped all. I stayed with Madelaine until the Goddess called. And my father and his new bride…both were dead before I ever had the chance to make good on his invitation. If I had known that visit would be his last, I might have chosen a different fate.