So involved in the fight, we didn’t notice Macbeth at first. When we had both had enough, Banquo disarmed me.
“Good. You’re getting better with shields but—”
His words were interrupted by clapping. “Well done!” Macbeth called.
We turned to find him standing at the top of the steps by the door.
Still clapping, he walked downstairs into the chamber.
“My wife fights like a Valkyrie. I hope you haven’t ceased the training of my men for the training of my bride,” Macbeth told Banquo.
“Of course not,” Banquo said. I could hear the irritation in his voice. Was it Macbeth’s words or presence that had set him on edge?
“I used to be skilled in arms. I asked Banquo to spar with me,” I told Macbeth.
Macbeth smiled icily. “Well, it’s good to see you feeling so well.” He patted me hard on the shoulder then crossed the room to join Banquo.
“My wife fights better than some of my men,” he told Banquo then picked up one of the training swords.
“She does. She had an excellent teacher in her youth.”
“Ah, yes. In her youth. Odd. I thought you spent time with the holy sisters in your youth, Lady Gruoch.”
“I did spend time with holy sisters and also learned how to wield a sword.”
“Unusual training for a lady.”
“Not all ladies are the daughter of Boite,” Banquo answered for me.
Macbeth gave him a sharp look as he lifted training swords from the rack, measuring the weight and balance of each blade. “Boite. Yes. Malcolm spoke often of your father, Gruoch. Let’s see how good you are, wife. If you’re feeling well enough for the exertion.”
Something in me hardened at his choice of words. Just what did Malcolm say about my father? And what was Macbeth trying to imply about my health?
“If it pleases you.”
Macbeth set the training swords aside in favor of a saber lying on the table. “Ah, here is a gentleman’s sword.”
I raised an eyebrow at Macbeth. Very well. If that was the way he wanted to play, so be it. I lay down my training sword, picked up Uald’s Gift, and slid Gillacoemgain’s dagger into the top of my boot.
“Remember that you have a free hand,” Banquo whispered.
I winked at him and then stood at ready in the center of the room. Macbeth smiled at me and took his position.
Banquo called for us to begin.
I was already weary for the exercise, but there was no way I was going to let Macbeth beat me if I could help it. He was court-trained and fought fancier than Uald or Banquo. His defense was excellent. We moved across the floor, our swords clattering together. Macbeth parried very well.
I decided it was time to play with him. I tossed my sword from hand to hand then feinted again and again. I tried to unsteady and annoy him. The more baits I threw out, the more goading moves I made, the unhappier Macbeth became. His brow furrowed heavily. His frustration unbalanced him, and his attacks became clumsy. If I wanted to beat him, I knew all I had to do was cause an unexpected diversion.
We moved back and forth across the room. Soon his sweaty brow matched my own. I grew tired of his excellent parries, so I lured him in close to me. I saw his eyes gleam as he perceived a win coming and then, reaching out with my free hand, I shoved him hard and quickly spun around behind him. When I turned, however, I found myself looking down the length of his blade.
I cast a glance up at his blue eyes, which glimmered wildly.
“Thought you could trick me?” he asked.
I grinned then tapped the blade of my dagger against his side. I’d anticipated his move. Had we really been on the battlefield, he’d have my dagger sticking out of his gut.
He lowered his sword then looked down at the dagger. His cheeks flushed an angry red, his features hardening. “If any dagger ever kills me, I’m sure it will be this one,” he said then glared at me. “What are you playing at?”
“Only the game you started.”
Macbeth sneered at the dagger. His eyes met mine, and he lowered his voice. “Bloody, murdering dagger. But what can I say? I knew whose bride you were.”
“I…” I began, but I wasn’t sure what to say. I knew what Macbeth thought, that it was the blade Gillacoemgain had used to… But I didn’t know that, hadn’t even thought of it. And I hadn’t meant anything by it.
Macbeth stepped back then and smiled brightly. The shift in expressions, from rage to happiness, was sudden and unexpected. “You fight excellently,” Macbeth said, his face looking overly cheerful. He smiled wide, his eyes even wider. “It’s good to see you out of your chamber, wife. I wondered where you’ve been. And here I find you with Banquo, of all people. My dear, I’ve hardly laid eyes on you these many days. Why are you avoiding me?”
“I’m not. I’ve been by to look for you many times. You’re always either out or busy.”
“Really? That hardly seems possible. I’m usually at work in my chamber or in the hall. Are you certain you were by? Either way. I doesn’t matter. Do all these physical exertions mean you’re…recovered?”
“Somewhat. Yes.”
Macbeth leaned in and set a quick kiss on my lips. “Stop avoiding me,” he whispered in my ear then slapped my bottom. “What do you say, Banquo? She had me, didn’t she?” he said, turning to Banquo, a smile on his face.
“Indeed she did,” Banquo replied.
“I dare say, had it been a real fight, we might have killed each other.”
“That’s the risk of the dance,” Banquo answered.
Macbeth nodded then set the sword back on the table. “Do make sure my soldiers are getting the same training as my wife, old friend.”
Banquo smiled awkwardly then nodded to Macbeth.
“Lord Macbeth,” a footman called from the door. He was holding a scroll. Macbeth crossed the room and took the message. After he read it, he turned back to us. “You must forgive me. Duty calls,” he said then turned and headed away from the hall.
I took a deep breath, went to the table, and poured myself some water.
“What did he say? You’re upset,” Banquo said.
I shook my head. Did Macbeth really think I had been avoiding him? Why would he think that?
“I…nothing. Just the troubles of learning one another’s ways, I guess.”
Banquo nodded thoughtfully.
I suddenly laughed aloud, the ridiculousness of the situation unmooring me.
“Cerridwen?”
“Has there ever been a more preposterous situation? So, husband, my other husband is not what I expected, and I cannot decide what to make of him, especially considering he’s not anything like that other husband I had—the one everyone thinks was very evil but who was very good to me—in the interim.”
At that, Banquo chuckled. “Indeed. Absurd.”
I shook my head.
Banquo sighed. “I can try to talk to him.”
“Yes, husband, please talk to my husband.”
Banquo groaned. “I think I need a strong drink.”
“Me too. Most certainly, me too.”
Chapter 13
Despite the awkward conversation between Macbeth and myself, I did not see him again that day. He was not in his council chambers, his sleeping chamber, nor anywhere else that I could easily discover. It wasn’t until I found my way to the stables that I realized his horse was missing.
“Has Lord Macbeth gone hunting?” I asked the stablemaster.
“No, my lady. He’s gone to the village.”
“The village? Is anything the matter?”
“I wouldn’t know, my lady.”
I smiled at the man. “Your name, sir?”