Tavis laughed. “Have you become so suspicious, Priest? Faerie folk? You talk like a superstitious fool, scared of some bitch’s abandoned runt. Be off with you.”
“But, Lord Tavis,” the priest interjected.
“Your master is awake. He’ll be looking for you,” Tavis said sternly, stepping between me and the priest.
Father Edwin glared at Tavis then turned and headed back into the castle.
“It’s early in the day to start an argument with the White Christ, Little Corbie,” Tavis said, grinning at me. Clearly, he had not yet seen Madelaine’s broken face. I pitied the pain I knew he would feel. I pitied the revenge he would not be able to extract. I pitied his love. But I was grateful for his help.
“That is certain,” I said with a wry grin. I set the puppy down. It waddled over to him, its belly bulging.
“So, a foundling, eh? Have you named her?”
I shook my head. “No doubt she already has one. I just need to figure it out.”
Tavis shook his head. “All right,” he said with a smile. “But what if it really was the fey folk who left her? Or maybe even the little people of the hollow hills?” he asked jokingly. Laughing, he picked up the pup and was scratching her belly when two of my uncle’s men neared us. I caught just a snippet of their conversation.
“They say Duncan may take a wife this year,” said the first.
The other man laughed. “Nonsense. He’s just a boy. They will wait until they can make a sturdy alliance,” the other replied as he mounted.
“With King Cnut badgering Malcolm, no doubt there will be some movement very soon.”
“All the movement being done is being done by Thorfinn.”
“He’s just a whelp with a big ship.”
“He may be a whelp, but he’s allied with King Magnus of Norway, and he’s fostering Macbeth.”
“Shame about Macbeth’s father. Findelach was a good man.”
Tavis, also overhearing the conversation, cleared his throat loudly. Both men looked at us.
“Ah, Lady Corbie,” said the first, winking knowingly to his partner.
The second man turned to me. “And here is Boite’s daughter,” he said slickly, casting a knowing glance to his comrade.
Tavis handed the puppy back to me. “Farewell, My Lords,” Tavis said gruffly, cutting off the words lingering on the men’s tongues.
The men laughed knowingly then guided their horses away from the castle, gossiping like two old women as soon as they were out of earshot. I heard my name carry on the wind.
I thought about their words. My cousin Donalda’s husband Findelach had been killed by his own brother, Gillacoemgain, in a quarrel over the rule of Moray. Findelach had fallen out of King Malcolm’s favor, and it was rumored that the King secretly supported Gillacoemgain’s move to take power from his brother. Apparently Macbeth, my second cousin by Donalda, had heard the rumor as well. People said he fled to Lord Thorfinn of Orkney for protection. King Malcom had no problem striking out at his own when it pleased him, much as he’d done to my own father, according to the rumors. My elder cousin Donalda, now a widow, was back at court, and Gillacoemgain, despite killing Donalda’s husband, was now the Mormaer of Moray and the most powerful man in the north. I frowned as I thought about where I fit on that chessboard. Would they really marry me off to Duncan? I’d never even seen the boy. The thought of it made me feel indignant, but in the end, the truth was obvious: King Malcolm would move me soon.
Chapter 5
For the men who still remained, the revelry began at sunup as opposed to sundown. I spent most of the morning and afternoon playing with the puppy and avoiding the main hall, but by dinnertime, I had no more excuses.
The hall was again too bright. The musicians played too loudly, and the smoke was so thick that it made it hard to breathe. Sweat beaded down my back. The men, still unwashed, were drunk from the day before and continued to drink more. Their speeches slurred.
“This will be the last night. They will all go home tomorrow,” my aunt whispered. The salve she had used to hide the bruise around her eye had faded. The dark ring around her shining emerald eyes was obvious. While Madelaine tried to smile like she had no cares in the world, I seethed.
I moved discreetly and forced my body to feel small so no one would notice me. It was difficult, however, to escape attention. My aunt and I were the most fetching women in the room, and when the food had been cleared, the men sought out attractive dancing partners.
“Dance, niece,” my uncle said, grabbing my hand.
My aunt, despite the risk of accusation, had taken to the floor with Tavis. I noticed their words were soft as he examined her eye and looked on her sympathetically. They weren’t doing a very good job hiding their feelings for one another. And when Tavis looked at Alister, his eyes smoldered. I tried to entertain my uncle, keeping his back turned toward his wife and her lover. I feared for Tavis. His rage was too ready, too obvious. He needed to be smarter. If Alister ever suspected anything between Madelaine and Tavis, Tavis would be dead.
“Such a pretty girl,” Alister said then, stroking his rough finger down my cheek.
“Thank you, my uncle,” I replied, my stomach flopping with nausea.
He pulled me closer. “How many years have you lived in my house?” he asked, his words coming slow and slurred.
“Sixteen.”
“Now you are leaving. And a convent? What a shame! You’ve grown into such a fine and beautiful woman,” he said, his hands stroking slowly upward from the curve of my waist toward my chest.
“Just for a time. King Malcolm will make a match for me soon enough,” I said. “I will be given a royal husband and produce heirs for the realm,” I said pointedly, reminding Alister that his hands had no business on a body intended for greater things than himself.
He frowned and lowered his hands to my waist. “As a daughter of Boite should.”
“Indeed. But, of course, all the realm knows that you are my foster father, and I always think of you as such. I am so glad I bring a father’s pride to your eyes.”
Alister looked away from me then, and I saw a glimmer of shame cross his face. “Well, if you hope to please your royal husband, don’t let those women teach you too much. Take your foster father’s advice, and don’t become as wicked tongued as your aunt. No man will want you, royal or not.”
The harp strings fell silent. “Of course, my uncle and foster father. Many thanks for your good counsel. Let me beg your leave. May I retire to my chamber? The ale has given me a headache.”
With a grunting laugh, my uncle nodded dismissively.
It was his words, not the ale, that made my head ache. He made my poor aunt, one of the kindest women I knew, seem wicked. Worse, I knew Alister fully believed in what he said, making his way reality to so many, simply because he thought he could. I shot a knowing glance to Madelaine, who had untangled herself from Tavis before Alister’s eyes espied the pair, and headed to my chamber.
Back in the privacy of my own room, I could finally relax. My little puppy was sleeping in a basket at the foot of my bed. She opened her drowsy eyes and looked at me when I entered, her tail wagging.
“Sleep, little one,” I told her. “And send me a dream so I can learn your name.”
The puppy rolled onto her back, her tongue falling out of the side of her mouth, then drifted back to sleep.
I went to the open window casement and looked out at the silver moon. It was glowing brightly. In the field below, two men where stringing up a freshly killed stag. The light of the fire and the glow of the moon illuminated the scene. I couldn’t quite catch their words on the wind, but they were laughing and drinking. I saw the flash of silver as the hunter took out a knife and slit open the belly of the deer with a jerk.