“Rest,” Sid told me then turned to Madelaine. “I’ll stay with her if you want to get settled in.”
Madelaine nodded. “Be back soon,” she said then headed out.
“Off to Uald,” Sid said, watching her out the window. “And you are here with me once more.”
“I’m half here,” I replied, my eyes closing.
“That’s the way of it. The days close to the end are the hardest. And with two, you must ache miserably.”
For more than she knew. Gillacoemgain. I lay down, forcing the thoughts away. I must have fallen asleep, because I woke sometime after dark to the sound of Epona’s voice.
“Cerridwen?” she said gently, shaking my shoulder.
“Epona?”
“You’ve been sleeping. May I examine you?” she asked.
Disoriented, I looked around. Sid was sitting on the bed beside me.
“Yes,” I said groggily. Sid sat holding my hand while Epona cared for me.
“Within the week for certain, but more likely it will be only a matter of days,” she pronounced after a bit. “There is no sign of injury from the ride. We are lucky.”
I sighed and closed my eyes. All I wanted was sleep. And more than that, I wanted my husband. Where was Gillacoemgain that night? Was he already marching north to, all signs seemed to suggest, his certain doom? A tear slid down my cheek.
“Let me know if she needs anything,” Epona said to Sid.
“Of course,” Sid said softly as she laid another blanket over me.
I heard the door open and close as Epona left. Once more, Sid sat down beside me and took my hand. She bent and set a soft kiss on my forehead. “You’re safe here. Let go,” she whispered.
I feel asleep a moment later.
I woke to thin rays of morning sunlight slanting through the window shutters, illuminating the motes that floated in the air. Sleepily, I raised my hand and chased them through the space.
“Are you saying my house is dusty?” Sid asked.
“Glimmering,” I replied. “Speaking of, where is Nadia?”
“Banished. The good neighbors don’t do well with human childbirth. Have you thought of names for your little ones?” Sid asked.
“Crearwy, for a girl, after Gillacoemgain’s sister.”
“He has a sister?”
“She died,” I replied, the image of Gillacoemgain with orange-colored blood stains on his hands fleeting through my mind.
Sid nodded thoughtfully. “And if they are boys?”
“I’m at a loss.”
Sid laughed. “Boy’s names are always difficult. I struggled for a name for my son as well. His father chose his name.”
“What is it?”
“Eochaid.”
I sat up and looked at Sid. “Eochaid?”
She smiled. “He’s a sweet little thing with a mop of brown curls. His eyes are much like mine. He’s happy in the otherworld with his father, but I miss him terribly.”
She didn’t know. Her son had been with me all this time. Why? Had the fey sent the boy to keep watch over me? My heart twisted. Should I tell her? I wasn’t sure.
“It’s a lovely name,” I said, deciding it was best not to interfere with the business of the good neighbors. I was sorry then, however, that I hadn’t done more for the boy. I would see to him the moment I returned to Moray.
“We’ll think of something for your little ones. Maybe there will be two girls,” Sid replied.
I smiled, thinking how cute two little lasses would be. But it struck me that it would be Malcolm—or worse—Duncan, who ruled the course of their lives. The idea of it filled me with rage.
There was a knock on the door. Epona stuck her head inside. “Ah, awake? Want to walk around a bit?”
It was the last thing I wanted to do, but I knew well enough that if I wanted the babes to come, it would help.
I nodded. “Coming,” I told her. With Sid’s help, I rose to get dressed.
Despite the fact that I felt like my children might come any moment, they did not arrive that day or the next. Ankles swelled to the size of tree trunks, feeling like I could barely breathe, and my emotions beginning to overflow, the hours before the little ones arrived were harrowing. I sat awake early one morning staring at the flames in Sid’s fireplace.
I was about to give birth to Duncan’s children.
It was the truth.
It was a pain I had buried.
Returning once more to the coven, to the sights and smells of a place I loved so well, so far removed from the comfort of Moray, and so close to the very forest where I’d been a victim to my cousin’s lust, the lies I’d told myself wore thin. If I had not met Duncan in the woods, I would be pregnant with Gillacoemgain’s children. The babes I carried would have been born of two loving parents. Duncan had robbed me of much that day. He’d taken my body, my dignity, and stolen my womb for his own use. It was not the fault of the little ones within me. They were innocent. But Duncan, the man who had helped himself to whatever he pleased, was destined to one day be King of Scotland. My cousin. My kin. Why had Malcolm asked for me to be sent to Aberdeen? Did my uncle wish me to be the next Queen of Scots? I shuddered at the thought. Would Malcolm really try to marry me to Duncan if Gillacoemgain fell? Andraste and Aridmis had both prophesied I would be Queen. Was that how? Would the babes in my womb help to seal Duncan’s power over Moray? It was a smart and disgusting move. Believing I carried Moray’s heirs, would Malcolm kill Gillacoemgain, then Macbeth, leaving Duncan to stand alone at the top of the heap? With the Lady of Moray and Moray’s heirs at his side, Duncan would win it all. The move was grotesque and exactly the kind of thing Malcolm was capable of orchestrating.
As I stared into the flames, tears rolled down my cheeks. I chided myself for my sadness. It was not sorrow I needed. It was anger. Revenge. The raven within me shrieked for vengeance. But I had to wait. The time wasn’t right. I could feel it in my bones. One day, I would take my revenge on Duncan. But not here. And not now. But when?
Frustrated with myself, I left Sid sleeping and pulled on my heavy robe. Walking carefully on the slick snow, I went to the little cabin Aridmis and Druanne shared and knocked on the door.
Aridmis smiled at me when she answered. “I was expecting you,” she said. “Druanne is off distilling herbs. Come in.”
“You were expecting me?” I asked.
She nodded. “Of course. Your little ones. I’m sure you are curious to know their fates.”
I looked at my old friend. Her curly golden hair looked the same, but there were lines around her eyes and mouth that were not there before. The years were working on her as they were on me. “No,” I said. “I…I want to know what is to come. My children will be safe with me.”
“Will they?” Aridmis asked absently as she shifted some papers on her table. She smiled softly at me. “There is much on your horizon.”
“Yes. Please tell me, will Gillacoemgain live? Will Macbeth win the north from him? What of Duncan?”
Aridmis frowned then said, “Some believe our fate is in our stars, but many times our faults are not in our stars but in ourselves. Soon, you will have to make choices that will wound you. Choose wisely. Choose what feels right in your heart. If you do that, good things shall come to pass.”