I nodded. Once more, I would be married in the shadow of Findelach’s faith. “Very well. And Thorfinn? Malcolm is rather specific on that point.”
Macbeth laughed. “Come spring, we will go north to meet Thorfinn…so I may introduce my new bride to the brother of my heart. And then, we will begin making plans.”
“Plans?”
“For war…against Malcolm.”
* * *
Macbeth headed to his council chambers, calling his advisers to attend him, while I went after Banquo.
I rapped softly on his chamber door.
“Banquo?” I called. “Can I come in?”
A few moments later, the latch scraped then the door swung open.
Banquo motioned for me to enter. He went to his bed where some packs were sitting out. He’d been packing up his belongings.
“Are you… Are you leaving?” I asked.
Banquo turned and looked at me, tears clinging to his eyes. “I love you, Cerridwen. I love you. I cannot stay and watch you wed to another man. My heart cannot bear it. I’m going to leave for a little while.”
I stepped toward him, setting my hand on his cheek. “Where will you go?”
“To the woods. Somewhere quiet, somewhere away from this place.” He took my hand and pressed it to his lips. “By the old gods, I swear, you will be mine again in the next life. I don’t care what it takes, what promises I must make.”
Hot tears welled in my eyes. I nodded. “Be careful what you promise away. But yes, in the next life.”
Banquo reached out and touched my lips. His hand shaking, he pulled it away. “There is a place not far from here that’s sacred to our people. One day, I will take you there.”
Turning my eyes to the floor, I nodded. A tear rolled down my cheek. I brushed it away.
“Cerridwen, I do wish you good fortune and happiness. I truly do. It’s just…”
“I know,” I whispered. I exited and went to my own section of the castle. Rather than going inside my sleeping chamber, I headed downstairs to the small courtyard Macbeth had told me about. There, I found a small patch of land and a single apple tree, a stone bench underneath. It was snowing lightly. I sat on the bench, leaning my back against the trunk of the tree, then wept until I had no more tears left in me.
Chapter 11
Three days later, I found myself standing beside Macbeth is a small stone chapel attended by strangers. Macbeth shifted nervously. He smelled of soap and incense. He kept giving me sidelong glances, eyeing me uncertainly. I took deep breaths and reminded myself to stay calm. I could not help but compare this wedding with my last. How handsome Gillacoemgain had looked in his tartan. How comical Eochaid and Thora had been. There had been joy there. Love, even. And before that, I’d wed Banquo under the eyes of the gods. I had to suppress a laugh—at least, so I did not cry—that I was not yet thirty and was already on my third marriage.
I cast a quick glance behind me. Aside from Ute and Macbeth, I knew no one. I didn’t know what Banquo had told Macbeth about why he’d left, but true to his word, he had disappeared. Wherever Banquo was, I was sure he was feeling far happier than me—well, maybe.
I spent the mass, which was spoken entirely in Latin, feeling very glad my face was hidden from view by the heavy veil that had been part of my wedding trousseau. At least they wouldn’t see me rolling my eyes and vacillating from annoyance to sorrow.
I glanced down at my gown. The dress was made of satin, trimmed with white fox fur, and embroidered with small pearls. The elaborate gown had been sent to me by the wife of the Thane of Ross, who was somewhere in attendance. She was an elderly lady, I was told, of good repute.
Father Lawrence said his final prayers. “And may the Lord bless this union.”
All gods are one god, and all goddesses one goddess. And together, they are one, Epona used to say. I tried to stay mindful of her words as the priest made the sign of the cross over me again and again. After all, I had no issue with the White Christ, just some of his followers.
“Amen,” the priest finally intoned.
“Amen,” Macbeth repeated then turned and lifted my veil.
I sucked in a breath then smiled at my new husband.
Macbeth leaned toward me, setting a polite kiss on my lips, then turned to the assembled crowd who clapped.
At that, the wedding party progressed to the feasting hall, where an elaborate winter feast had been laid out. Roasted roots, baked breads, a deer, and a hog had all been roasted to celebrate the nuptials. Musicians played the bagpipes, and the lords and ladies drank wine and chatted merrily. Macbeth at I were seated at a table at the front of the room. An elaborate feast had been spread out before us.
“Lady Macbeth,” an elderly man called as he approached.
Lady Macbeth. Lady Macbeth? The title left a sour taste in my mouth.
“Thane,” Macbeth called cheerfully. “Let me introduce you to my wife. Gruoch, this is the Thane of Ross.”
“My lord,” I said with a curtsey.
“Word of your beauty has spread far and wide, my lady. And of your wisdom. I was told you aided in the rule of Moray and ruled well,” Ross said.
“I did my best, my lord.”
“As one expects from Boite’s daughter. May I introduce my wife, Eleanor, Lady Ross.”
I curtsied deeply to her. “My lady, I’m told it’s you I must thank for this fine gown.”
Lady Ross was a wide woman with an even wider smile. She nodded to me. “I had intended it for my granddaughter, who went off and got married wearing some other gown. She had the audacity to tell me no thank you. Can you imagine my shock? The finest dressmaker in Scotland made the gown you’re wearing, Lady Macbeth. When I heard you and Lord Macbeth were set to wed, I thought to myself, the girl has no family and no time to find something proper to wear for a woman of her standing. Why don’t I send her the dress? I can’t wait to tell my daughter, who married a lesser lord of a house you’ve probably never heard of, that the gown she snubbed was good enough for the Lady of Moray, niece of the king! That will teach that ungrateful girl. Regardless, it fits you well and you look so lovely.”
When Lady Ross finally came up for a breath, I took her hand and squeezed it gently. “Many thanks to you. As you said, my family is far from me. It was too difficult for my aunt, Lady Madelaine, to travel so far north in the winter weather. Your generosity means so much to me.”
Macbeth shifted. “I am sorry the Thane of Fife and Lady Madelaine were unable to come.”
There had actually been no conversation between us about asking Madelaine to come at all. It seemed to me that in his haste to seal his hold on the north, Macbeth had forgotten Madelaine entirely. Now it seemed that the gown, which I thought Macbeth had found for me, had been Lady Ross’s idea entirely. Macbeth was certainly no Gillacoemgain.
“Fife is too old and too fat to ride this far north in the snow,” The Thane of Ross said with a laugh which Macbeth and his wife both joined.
“Don’t they make a handsome couple? Just look at them. Raven-headed, each one. Both with blue eyes—”
“Lady Gruoch’s eyes are more lavender colored, actually,” Macbeth said, turning to me. “A mix of blue and purple.”
“Oh, indeed!” Lady Ross said with a laugh. “Lovers, staring like mooncalves into one another’s eyes. Do you remember when we were like that, Ross?” she asked her husband.
The thane shifted, seeming to think. “No. No, I don’t.”
“Me either,” Lady Ross said then laughed loudly. “Come, old man. Let’s let these two lovers sit and stare at one another while we go find something else to eat,” she said and then curtsied to me.