Highland Vengeance

Chapter 37

“Good to have you back, my lady,” Standish told me, taking Kelpie by the reins as we rode into Cawdor.

“Thank you, Standish. Can you see Lord Banquo’s men are provisioned for the return to Lochaber? Their lord will stay awhile,” I said.

Standish nodded then eyed over Macbeth’s group. Macbeth, his guard, a footman, and two soldiers stayed behind. The rest of Macbeth’s party had already ridden on to Inverness. “Lord Macbeth will take residence with us…briefly.”

Standish nodded. “I’ll see for chambers for both gentlemen.”

“Thank you,” I said, not wanting to meet Standish’s eye. I suddenly felt ashamed at having brought Macbeth there.

Rhona had already taken Lulach inside. The child had been asking for biscuits for the last hour. Tired, my bones aching and feeling weary from the road, I headed into the castle.

“My lady,” Tira called happily when I entered. “Welcome back. I swear you were on the road longer than you were there.”

I chuckled. “True.”

“And how was it?”

“Exceedingly dull. You’d be best to ask Rhona for the details. In the meantime, I would kill for a bath to heat myself back up.”

“Of course, my lady. I’ll go get it ready for you,” she said then headed upstairs.

I turned and went to the unused part of the castle. The small garden was blanketed with a light dusting of snow. I went to the bench, dusted the snow off, and then sat down. I closed my eyes and tried to feel Gillacoemgain’s spirit. It did not take long to sense his presence as I always did in this place.

“I’m home, love,” I whispered.

My head ached. While it would be better if Macbeth and I could be reconciled, it felt easier to let things be as they were. It was easier to remember Gillacoemgain, to love Banquo from afar, without Macbeth there asking things from me I didn’t know how to give. No matter what way I had tried to love him, nothing ever seemed right.

A moment later, I heard movement in the garden, and a soft nose pushed my hand.

I opened my eyes to find Thora there, her tail wagging.

I chuckled. “I see I am forgiven for leaving you behind,” I said, petting her head.

“I confess to setting her on your trail,” Banquo said then entered the garden. “What a beautiful space.”

“It’s so lovely in the springtime. I planted all my medicinal herbs here.”

Banquo glanced around. “You don’t use this part of the castle?”

“No.”

His eyes rose to Crearwy’s chamber. “I see,” he said, his gaze narrowing.

“Don’t.”

“Don’t?”

“Don’t disturb her. Or the past. Or anything else there.”

Banquo inclined his head. “As you wish.”

I rose slowly, my back aching from the cold. “We should go find something warm to drink.”

“Macbeth is already inside.”

I chuckled. “I’m sure he is.”

“He says he wishes to make amends.”

“Well, let’s see if he can find the temperament to do so.”

“Indeed.”

Banquo and I headed back to the castle, him going to the hall to join Macbeth while I went upstairs. Tira had my bath ready.

“Will you need my help, my lady?”

“No, Tira. Thank you.”

“Very well. I’ll be back in a bit to help Rhona unpack your bags. I need to go find our little lord and give him a good squeeze.”

I laughed, waved to her, and then went to my box of medicines. I unpacked some herbs, sprinkling the hot wash water with dried lavender, chamomile flowers, and other fragrant flowers and leaves. I took off my riding clothes and dropped them onto the floor then slipped into the washing tub sitting before the fire. The hot liquid enveloped me, the fragrant herbs filling my senses. I closed my eyes, letting the water wash me clean of my encounter with Duncan, wash me clean of his words, his presence.

Opening my eyes slowly, I gazed at the wash water. The fire from the fireplace was mirrored on the surface. I gazed deeply into the flames reflected there. The sound of raven’s wings came to me, and I felt my gaze shift as the raven and I became one. The water rippled. I heard the sounds of rough voices, waves, and wind. A moment later, I saw the image of ships burning and sinking upon a tossing sea. Duncan’s banner slowly drowned under the waves. The raven looked around and found Thorfinn at the prow of a longship, the wind blowing back his long, blond hair.

“For Macbeth! For the north!” the Northman called, lifting his ax in the air, his men cheering.

Then the image faded.

I closed my eyes. The battle at sea as the Morrigu predicted. Soon. It was coming soon.