King Malcolm favored Gillacoemgain to control the north over Thorfinn or Macbeth. The king questioned Thorfinn’s relationship with Norway and Macbeth’s relationship with Thorfinn. My marriage to Gillacoemgain was the king’s way of sending a clear message to any contenders that the king wanted Gillacoemgain to be the Lord of the North, as the Mormaer of Moray was generally considered. But if Gillacoemgain wanted to take control of Thorfinn’s lands, now was the time. These were things everyone knew, and everyone was waiting to see what Gillacoemgain would do. They also seemed to be wondering what, if anything, Gillacoemgain and King Malcolm had secretly planned. Gillacoemgain, however, only seemed to want to get married and think things through; at least that was my observation. And that night, I was certain, the only thing Gillacoemgain wanted was sleep.
“My Lord looks weary,” I whispered in his ear when those closest to us had turned their attention away.
“I’ve spent too long riding to hear all manner of news at once, but that is the nature of things for me,” he said, sipping a concoction of warm, honey-sweetened herbs.
“Will you have counsel all night or will you rest?”
“More hereafter, I’m afraid. Malcolm sent a priest north to wed us. He arrived a while ago but is sleeping. I hope you will forgive me, but I have not planned a lavish wedding. Moray’s money has been spent to ensure I keep my place here.”
“I need no trappings to wed,” I replied.
Gillacoemgain laughed. “If Malcolm had not offered your hand, Corbie, I would have come for you myself.”
My heart fluttered open. “Thank you.”
Gillacoemgain smiled and stroked my cheek.
I looked at Gillacoemgain, and for a brief moment, I saw a flash of red on his face, a glow like he was beside a fire. Strange. I closed my eyes, forcing the image away.
“Corbie?” he whispered. “Are you all right?
“I’m fine,” I said, pulling myself back together. It was nothing more than a shadow, a strange trick of the light.
“The ride was too much for you and the talk grows weary. Why don’t you rest?”
“Not yet. Will you come to our chamber tonight?”
Gillacoemgain sighed tiredly. “I must meet with Buchan and Mar. There is much to consider.”
“Will it come to war then?”
“So it seems. The last of those who support Thorfinn must be subdued.”
“There is no way to bring him to an accord?”
Gillacoemgain shook his head. “The Viking thinks his line rules the north. He’s wrong. I will not have our children’s birthright threatened. I will stamp him out and those who support him.”
“Has he much support?”
“Enough to give me a problem, but I have Malcolm.”
Rather, I thought, Malcolm had Gillacoemgain, but I didn’t say so.
He put his arm around me then and pulled me close. “What do you think of my castle?”
“I’ve seen little more than our chamber. But I love the ward, the green space inside the castle walls.”
“There is another garden,” Gillacoemgain said distractedly, “but it’s unused. The soil may be bad there,” he said, shifting in his seat. He sighed. “When this business is done, we’ll go out and hunt together, my birds and your dog. They’ll make a great team.”
“Birds?”
“My falcons,” he said, his eyes sparkling with buried joy.
“I look forward to those quiet days.”
“As do I,” Gillacoemgain said, stroking my hair, “as do I.”
Chapter 10
Despite Gillacoemgain’s desire for quiet, rest, and a peaceful life, there was no sign of it on the horizon. I waited up for him that night, but he never came to our chamber.
The following morning, I learned from Ute that the men had been in counsel all night. Riders had been coming in and out of Cawdor at all hours. From the viewpoint above the ward, I saw messengers rushing in and out of the castle. Moray was a busy place. Madelaine’s castle had lived in a quiet lull. Nothing happened saved the grotesque antics of Alister. In Moray, things were very different. The north, it seemed, was bracing for conflict.
Gillacoemgain arrived midday, however, with news.
“Corbie?” he called, rapping on the chamber door. He looked very pale. Dark rings had formed under his eyes.
“Gillacoemgain? You look miserable,” I said, crossing the room to take his hand.
“It’s nothing,” he said, dismissing his obvious fatigue. “I spoke with the priest this morning. He can perform the nuptials today,” he said then added, “I have to say, he took the news that there wasn’t a lavish event planned worse than the bride.”
“I hope you told him so.”
“I did,” Gillacoemgain said with a laugh. “I suspect he’s used to women of southern stock. Royal girls do have a reputation for demanding pageantry.”
“Should I stamp my foot and demand heaps of jewels?” I asked playfully. “After all, I’ve come with quite a dowry.”
“If you want, but I don’t have any jewels to give you. I do have something, though,” he said and crossed the room to his trunk. From within, he pulled out a bundle wrapped in cloth and set it on the bed. “I had this made for you.”
Curious, I opened the package. Inside I found a stunning violet-colored gown trimmed with silver embroidery. “How did you know? The colors…”
“I didn’t, but there is a woman in Nairn who my sister trusted to make her gowns. I asked the dressmaker to sew something for you. Do you like it?”
“It’s beautiful,” I said, stunned that Gillacoemgain had thought to ensure I had something special to wear. But his words caught my attention. I hadn’t known he had a sister. For a fleeting moment, I envisioned a female friend for myself, a co-conspirator in mischief and someone to be with me through my pregnancy.
“We’ve set the time of the nuptials at dusk. Does that suit you?”
“Yes,” I said, stroking my hand across the lovely fabric. “I didn’t know you had a sister.”
Gillacoemgain stiffened, and it felt as if the air around us grew cold. “Had. She was…she’s dead.”
I could feel all the sharp edges around the topic so I let it go. As fleeting as my dream had come, it vanished just as quickly. “A wedding at dusk,” I said gently, thinking not only of the lovely sunset hues but also how weddings after midday were said to bring bad luck.
“Yes, I know, ten people have already told me that the time of day is ill-omened, but I must leave soon, and I want our marriage confirmed. And I want to join my wife in bed,” he said, wrapping his arms around me.
I let go of everything in that moment and felt him, just him. I owed it to both of us to try to make it work.
“Corbie. My raven bride,” he said then kissed the back of my head. “I’ll see you at dusk.”
The gown Gillacoemgain had given me was a perfect fit. The embroidered silver thread matched the raven torcs I’d brought with me from Ynes Verleath. I slid on the amulet and bracelets. They glimmered in the fading sunlight.
“You look so beautiful,” Ute said as she wound my hair with colorful ribbons, inserting violets, small white flowers, and bits of ivy.
I strung a piece of matching ribbon around Thora’s neck, making Ute laugh and Thora look at me like I was mad.
“What? You look festive,” I told Thora, who simply wagged her tail.
There was a knock on the door.
“They are ready for you, My Lady,” Artos called from the other side of the door.
“I don’t like that man,” Ute told me in a whisper. “None of the servants do.”