Highland Vengeance

Chapter 5

We arrived at Cawdor in the dark of night. Banquo had ridden ahead of us along with the army. Apparently, he was chief amongst Macbeth’s commanders. Macbeth stayed close to the little cart that carried me. Part of me suspected that Macbeth feared Duncan would send an ambush to wrestle me away. He was right to worry. Without me, his claim to the north—and even to the throne—was greatly weakened. Finally, I spotted the dark silhouette of Cawdor castle against the starry sky. Home. Home, but not to Gillacoemgain. I closed my eyes and rocked with the little wagon. I could not think of it, not now.

As we passed through the gates of the keep, Banquo was waiting to meet us.

“Banquo, will you see Lady Gruoch inside?” Macbeth asked as he dismounted.

“Of course,” Banquo replied then turned to help me out of the wagon. He placed his hand in mine, and when he did so, a sharp jolt shot through my body. The scars from our handfasting had brushed against one another.

“Very well. My lady, I must see to the men then I’ll join you thereafter,” Macbeth told me, clearly unaware of the suffering agony lingering between Banquo and me.

Banquo stiffened and kept his face blank, his eyes not meeting mine.

“Yes. Thank you, Macbeth,” I said.

“My lady,” Ute said, handing Lulach to me.

I took my tiny baby into my arms then moved to shelter him inside my cloak.

“Gruoch?” Banquo whispered aghast, staring down at the tiny bundle. He reached out and touched Lulach’s cheek.

“This is Lulach, my boy, the son of Gillacoemgain.”

Banquo’s face went absolutely pale. “Little Lulach,” he finally whispered. “Son of Gillacoemgain.”

I looked at Banquo. He stared at the child as if in disbelief.

It was Thora who finally broke the tension between us. Barking excitedly, she jumped on Banquo and attempted to lick his face then wiggled all around his legs.

“Thora,” he said, kneeling to pet her. Thora licked his cheeks and made happy whining sounds.

Banquo smiled and laughed lightly.

“My Lady of Moray!” someone called.

I looked up to find Tira, the young serving woman I’d once saved from Artos’s clutches.

“Tira.”

“Oh, my lady. Come in out of the cold. We were so worried for you,” she said, beckoning me forward.

I tried to catch Banquo’s eye, but he would not meet my gaze.

I went to the girl. “Tell me, how are you all? What has happened at Cawdor?”

“Standish laid down his arms when Macbeth’s forces arrived. We’ve not been harmed,” she told me.

I entered the castle to find my household waiting. My eyes searched the group for Eochaid. He was not amongst the others gathered there.

“Lady Gruoch,” they called out upon seeing me.

“My lady!”

“Lady! How are you, lady?”

“Be at ease, my friends. I am well. I have ridden here with Macbeth. Tell me, is everyone all right?”

“Yes, my lady,” Rhona reassured me.

“Standish?” I asked, looking around the room for the chief of Cawdor’s sentinels.

“He’s outside with Macbeth’s men. Unharmed,” Tira explained.

“My lady, your babies?” Rhona asked.

I smiled down at the tiny bundle I held then carefully handed Lulach to her. “Lord Lulach,” I said.

“Thank the Goddess,” Rhona whispered as the others pressed in to see. “Oh, my lady, how like you he looks. The other child?”

I shook my head. “Only one survived.”

Beside me, Banquo stiffened.

“Oh, my lady,” Tira said, tears coming to her eyes. “I’m so sorry. Such ill-omened times.”

I nodded, swallowing hard to prevent the tears that wanted to break the surface. I turned to Ute. “Can you put Lulach down to sleep in my chamber, the one I used late in my pregnancy, assuming it has not been disturbed?”

“It’s as you left it,” Tira said. “I’ve already had the hearth lit. The chamber should be warm.”

“Of course,” Ute said then took Lulach from Rhona.

“Thank you. I have some matters to attend to, but I’ll come very soon.”

“Very well, my lady,” she replied, looking relieved to be headed somewhere where she could rest. Lulach in her arms, Rhona following along behind her, Ute went upstairs, Thora following protectively behind them.

I turned to my household. “Please prepare what food you can for Macbeth’s party. We’ve come under Macbeth’s care in an inauspicious manner, but we will host him as is fitting in Moray.”

Understanding, the staff nodded and headed back to work. The looks on their faces were glum. They would do as they were asked but with no joy.

“Tira,” I called.

The girl paused. “My lady?”

“The boy, Eochaid, have you seen him?”

She stopped for a moment then shook her head. “No, my lady. Not since you went south.”

I frowned. “If he does reappear, please send him to me at once.”

“Of course.”

I turned to Banquo. “My lord, will you assist me with something?” I asked, keeping my tone stiff and formal.

“Of course, Lady Gruoch,” Banquo replied, his manner strange, as if he was desperately trying to rule himself—and failing.

I turned and led him upstairs. Wordlessly, Banquo and I went to the chamber I’d shared with Gillacoemgain, the only place in the castle where I knew we would not be disturbed. We entered the bedroom, and I shut the chamber door behind me. Before I could entirely turn around, Banquo pulled me tight against him.

I wrapped my arms around him, inhaling his woodsy scent. My mind was immediately flung back in time, and I remembered him under the trees, the love of my soul. Tears threatened. This was all too much, too much for a mere mortal woman to endure. I leaned my head against his chest and listened to the rhythm of his heart, its beat deep and comforting. I felt dizzy, and that odd old tremor that sometimes took over me threatened. I felt it shake me from the back of my neck. No. I could control it. I inhaled deeply and stepped back. Hot tears burned, but I closed my eyes, swallowed hard, then held them back.

Banquo held me by the arms and looked deeply into my eyes. “I never thought I would see you again,” he said then shook his head. “You never told me who you were. You never told me you were the daughter of Boite. All the pieces of the mystery fall into place before my eyes. My Cerridwen, you are Gruoch, Daughter of Boite. Where have you been all these years?”

“But for the last year I’ve been here, with Gillacoemgain,” I said. “And before that—”

“An ancient, lost place.”

I nodded.

Banquo looked around the room. “I cannot imagine you the wife of such a man.”

“He was not what people thought. He was a good man.”

“Your son. He’s such a small thing. And you lost a second child?”

Did I dare tell him the truth? There was too much risk in it. “Yes. I fled south when the war began. It was a hard ride.”

“I’m so sorry.”

I nodded.

“The wife of Gillacoemgain,” he said then shook his head. “And the daughter of Boite. I never had a chance. Lochaber was nothing. When I reached for you, I reached for—”

“Scotland.”

“And now?”

“And now I must wed Macbeth.”

“You cannot!”

“I must.”

“No. You will not. It cannot be. I can’t allow it.”

I stared at Banquo. “It…must be.”

“But I’ve just found you.”

“You forget yourself. Banquo, come to your senses. I must marry Macbeth. And you already have a wife.”

Banquo stiffened. “As my father insisted.”

“I’ve seen her. That day along the shore, I saw you both through the eyes of the raven. And you have a son as well?”

“I knew it was you. I knew it. Yes, that is my son. His name is Fleance. Cerridwen, what do we do? Now that I have you, I can’t just give you over to Macbeth!”

“You must.”

“I must,” Banquo repeated absently.

I stared at my oldest love’s face, his dark eyes, his curly brown hair, his strong jaw. I felt the soul inside him. My mind twisted. With every fiber of my being, I wanted to fall into his arms, plant kisses on his lips, and be who I really was. But I didn’t. I couldn’t. My mind was shattering. My hands began to shake.

“You have a wife and son. I have escaped marriage to Duncan by fleeing to Macbeth. I have a son who is the rightful heir to Moray. You must be the thane, and I must be the daughter of Boite and Lady of Moray. There is no other choice,” I told Banquo.

“We could run away,” Banquo said, clutching my hand feverishly.

“I am beholden to Lulach’s fortune.”

“Forget it. We’ll raise him as a druid. We’ll escape into the strongholds of the ancient faith and disappear.”

“And what of Fleance?”

“I’ll bring him.”

“And take him from his mother?”

“No… I… I couldn’t do that to Merna.”

Finally, a name. “Merna. Is she a good wife?”

Banquo paused. “Yes,” he said then sighed. When he looked at me again, there were tears welling in his eyes. “Cerridwen, what can we do?”

“We must wait until the next life to be together.”

“How can you say that?”

“Search your heart.”

Banquo shook his head. “It’s not right. This is not the path. Cerridwen, I still love you!”

“And I still love you. But soon I will be Macbeth’s wife, as I was Gillacoemgain’s.”

“I cannot bear it.”

“You can, and you must. I must. We will bear it. In the least, we can be together.”

“Like this?”

“This something is better than nothing.”

“We are bound by spirit!” Banquo said, sticking out his hand to show the scar thereon.

I took his hand, pressing the scar on my palm against his. “Yes,” I whispered, lacing my fingers in his.

Banquo stared at me. “Cerridwen,” he whispered.

I shook my head. “Gruoch.”

“No. My queen. My Boudicca. My Cerridwen. You’ll never be Gruoch to me.”

“This is the sad reality we must accept. I am Gruoch, Daughter of Boite and Lady of Moray. I am the mother of Lulach, son of Gillacoemgain. You must know me as such. See me in this space.”

“There are more places in this world than just this one,” Banquo said then smiled.

“Yes. And in those spaces, you and Cerridwen are one.”

“Always,” he whispered.

“Always,” I repeated.

From outside, Macbeth’s voice rose up to the casement. “Where is the rider? I’ll send word south to Malcolm. The Lady of Moray is mine.”