Highland Vengeance

Chapter 38

A few days later, I found Macbeth standing in the hall reading a dispatch, his brow furrowed.

I approached him slowly. Things had been stiff and awkward between the three of us. When Macbeth and Banquo were alone, there was an ease between them. But between Macbeth and me, there was still a barrier I didn’t know how to pass. I should forgive him and move on, but the raven wasn’t sure that was a good idea—at least not yet. I laced my fingers together then approached him.

“What is it?” I asked.

“Thorfinn. His cousin Rognevald has returned from exile. Rognevald is in Norway under Cnut’s protection. He is amassing a navy—and he has help.”

“Cnut?”

“Cnut and Duncan,” Macbeth replied, crushing the note in his hand. “Duncan…how many questions he asked me about Thorfinn. Cousin this, cousin that. You are right, Gruoch. False faced liar. They will seek to oust Thorfinn and set Rognevald in his place.”

I shook my head. “If they truly believe you are loyal, they will set Rognevald in Thorfinn’s place and then they will send you to destroy Rognevald. Once you have done so and the north is solidified, Duncan will come for you and take it all.”

Macbeth stared at me as if the weight of my words was sinking in. “We should not have ridden south. We should have stayed north as Thorfinn did, set our allegiances square from the beginning.”

“If you had asked me, that is what I would have advised.”

“Really? Would you have? But you are so keen to protect Lulach’s claim,” he said, his voice hard.

“No matter what you do, it will come to war in the end. Duncan will not be content to see you so powerful. We hold too much sway. Lulach will be Mormaer of Moray one way or another. Since we rode south, I forced the words from the king’s mouth.”

Macbeth paused then looked behind me. “Banquo? Good god, man, you’re ashen. What is it?”

I looked back to find Banquo there, a grave expression on his face. “I must return to Lochaber at once.”

“What’s happened?” I asked.

“Fleance and Merna have both taken a fever, and they’ve had no luck healing them.”

Macbeth nodded. “Have Gruoch’s men saddle your horse. Take whatever you need. Go at once, old friend.”

“I’ll see to it,” I told Macbeth then turned and left the hall, motioning for Banquo to come with me.

From behind me, I felt Macbeth scowling. While Macbeth and Banquo had warmed to one another, Macbeth had not warmed to the sight of Banquo and me together. His jealousy was insufferable. But at that moment, I didn’t care about his pettiness. Banquo was in trouble.

Banquo and I headed toward the stables. “I can come with you. We can ride quickly. I’ll go back upstairs and grab my medicines. I’ll be ready before the horses are saddled.”

Banquo shook his head. “They write that the illness is contagious. Several members of my household are ill, and two have died already. I would not risk you there. I’ll send a casting to Balor. He winters in Skye. He can walk the old paths and come quickly. The old paths. Cerridwen, your garden,” he said then grabbed my arm. “I have no time. The rider just arrived, but it may already be too late. My son. Cerridwen, your garden. I know you said not to intrude, but the worlds are thin there.”

I nodded. “Come with me.”

Banquo and I headed quickly into the garden.

“This way,” I said then led him up the steps to the unused part of the castle. Grabbing a lantern, I led Banquo down the dark halls. The air stilled, and my skin rose to gooseflesh. Taking Banquo’s hand, I led him forward.

“I’m sorry to leave you like this,” Banquo whispered.

“Think nothing of it. Your son, your wife. You must hurry to them.”

“Fleance,” Banquo whispered, his voice choking.

I squeezed his hand. An image of my own daughter fluttered through my mind. The thought of hers or Lulach’s lives in danger would be more than I could take. I understood Banquo’s need for expedience.

The hallway was dark, dank, and filled with cobwebs. We walked to the door of Crearwy’s chamber.

“Cerridwen, what is this place?” Banquo whispered.

I shook my head. “I promised I would not speak of it.”

Banquo nodded.

“If I can do anything, cast to me. I will come.”

“All right.”

“Grip the door handle and wish for home,” I said, motioning to the door.

“Thank you.”

“May the Great Mother and the Father God watch over you and yours,” I whispered then stepped back.

I closed my eyes, and pulled magic around me, feeling the great beyond.

Send him home.

Banquo inhaled slowly letting out a slow, steady breath. The air around me seemed to tremble.

The door opened then closed.

I opened my eyes once more. The hallway was very still, very silent.

Turning the latch, I opened the door. My lantern shone into the room, revealing the orange-colored stain on the floor. I cast a glance across the dusty chamber, the cobweb-covered spinning wheel, the decaying gown lying on the bed. There, at the window on the other side of the hall, stood Crearwy’s—Gillacoemgain’s sister’s—shade. The slim girl, her dark hair fixed prettily on a pile on her head, turned and looked at me.

“Sister,” I whispered, bowing to her.

A slight smiled crossed her lips. She inclined her head to me then disappeared.