The boy laughed. “Cor-bee!”
I hugged the boy tightly, closing my eyes. This was supposed to be my child. I kissed him on the head. Sweet piece of life.
When I opened my eyes again, I caught Banquo’s gaze. I glanced away before the others saw. I could not rest my eyes on him now. If I did, they would all see. They would all see how much I still loved him.
A sharp pain crashed across my skull. My knees nearly buckled.
“Oh,” I gasped. Moving carefully, I handed Fleance to his father.
“Gruoch?” Macbeth said, taking me by the arm. “Are you ill?”
“It’s nothing,” I lied. “Just a wee bit seasick.” Waves of pain rolled across my head, shooting toward my temples and the backs of my eyes. I bit the inside of my mouth, forcing away the pain that wanted to take over me. My hands shook.
No.
Not now.
“Come,” Thorfinn said, his voice sounding serious. He studied my face carefully. “Your wife needs rest, Macbeth.”
His arm wrapped around me, Macbeth led me to a fortress that sat high above the water. When I entered the space, I was surprised to find that I recognized it. Every detail of the longhouse was clear in my memory. Many years ago, with Sid’s guidance, I’d sent a casting to Banquo. This is where he’d been.
The memory was further driven home when a black-robed man stood to greet us. He had long black hair and an equally long beard which was streaked with white hair. Around his neck, he wore the amulet of a skald. He bowed to his lord then looked over the rest of us, pausing when his eyes met mine.
“You,” he whispered, narrowing his eyes as he looked at me.
“This is Lady Macbeth, Anor,” Thorfinn said, his voice sounding sharp.
“I’ve seen this lady before.”
“That is not possible,” Macbeth said with a frown.
Anor stared at me.
I turned to Banquo. His eyes met mine, and I could see that he remembered. What had Banquo and I said to one another all those years ago? What had the skald heard?
My thoughts were distracted when a wave of pain washed over me once more. My body jerked in response.
“Come, Gruoch. How pale she looks. Come sit,” Thorfinn said, leading me to the massive center fire. “My skald, Anor. He sings well, but he’s meddlesome,” Thorfinn complained. “I half suspect he’s my cousin, Rognevald’s spy.”
“I am no spy,” Anor retorted.
“I’m sorry, sir. I think you have mistaken me,” I told the skald, my voice shaky.
“Indeed. That must be the case. My apologies, Lady Macbeth,” Anor said.
“He’s full of superstitions, that one. But he won’t wag his tongue about you, or I’ll have it cut out of his mouth. You hear me, Anor?”
“Yes, my lord.”
“Red,” Thorfinn called to a buxom woman with a long red braid trailing down her back, “bring Lady Macbeth some wine.”
“Maybe you should lie down,” Macbeth said, hovering nervously.
“No, I’ll be okay,” I said.
The red-haired woman hurried back with a goblet of wine. “M’lady,” she said with an awkward curtsey.
Thorfinn frowned as he looked me over. “You’re right, Macbeth. Forgive me, my lady, but you look pale as milk,” he said then turned to Macbeth. “Let’s go make sure your longhouse is ready then we’ll get her settled. Banquo and Merna will watch over her until we return,” Thorfinn said then led Macbeth outside. As they exited, I heard Thorfinn ask, “Hasn’t she ever been on a ship before? Didn’t you advise her on how to keep her stomach calm at sea? Why didn’t you sail with her?”
I heard Macbeth stammer a reply as the two exited, leaving me behind with Banquo and his family.
“Gruoch, are you all right?” Banquo asked. He reached out to touch me then pulled his hand back.
I inhaled deeply then exhaled. “I’ll be okay. It…will pass.”
“My lady,” Ute said, settling in on the other side of me.
“I’m okay,” I whispered.
“Merna, this is Gruoch’s son, Lulach,” Banquo told his wife. Moving carefully, Ute handed Lulach to Banquo.
Merna gasped. “My lady! He’s such a wee thing. How old is he?”
“Four months,” I said then took a sip of wine.
“Oh, but I thought—” she began but left off, her brows furrowing when she could not make sense of the matter.
“Lulach is the son of Gillacoemgain of Moray,” Banquo explained.
Merna’s brows raised in surprise then she nodded. “Difficult times for you then,” she said, looking at me tenderly.
I smiled softly at her, studying her face which had a sprinkle of freckles over her nose, her cheeks dimpling when she smiled. She had a full bosom, round hips, and long, curly dark hair. She was a sweet, pleasing woman. But more, goodness exuded from her, as did the glow of the otherworld. She was one of us. I suddenly felt annoyed with myself for the jealously I’d felt. It was petty of me.
“My husband told me he knew you in his youth, that you met when he traveled with Balor,” Merna said.
I nodded. “Yes.”
“I’m so glad to have you here amongst us. You’ll find Thurso very welcoming to people of our beliefs.”
“And when you have time, I have a little treasure to show you,” Banquo told me.
“Treasure?” I raised an eyebrow at him.
“You’ll see,” Banquo said teasingly. He was trying to lift my spirits, distract me from whatever was ailing me. “She’ll see, won’t she?” he said, looking down at Lulach who giggled and reached out to grab his nose. “She’ll be surprised. Won’t that be fun?”
I chuckled, feeling some of the pain recede.
“Welcome, dear sister,” Merna said, reaching out to squeeze my hand.
I stared at her. In that moment, my heart softened. It was no more Merna’s fault that Banquo and I had loved than it was Gillacoemgain’s. I would not hold any resentment toward her.
“Fleance,” Merna called as the boy dawdled to the door, laughing mischievously as he went. She rose and went after the boy, who took off like an arrow when he saw his mother coming for him, racing out the door as fast as his little legs could carry him. Ute rose to help Merna before the child fell into the sea.
Banquo shook his head then turned to me. “Are you all right now?”
“I will be. I’ve always been prone to these kind of fits.”
“Have you talked to a healer?”
“I’ll speak to Epona,” I said absently as I watched through the open door as Merna picked up Fleance who was grinning wickedly. She kissed his face while she chided his recklessness. “He’s a handsome child,” I said.
Banquo gazed down at Lulach. “As is Lulach.”
We turned then toward each other, our eyes meeting. A million words went unspoken.
How had everything turned out like this?
Chapter 15
Macbeth and Thorfinn returned a short while later.
“Our home is ready, the fire lit, the rooms warm. Come, my dear. You need some rest. Ute,” Macbeth said, indicating to my maid to take Lulach. She lifted the boy gently from Banquo’s arms then followed along behind us. We moved away from the great longhouse at the top of the hill to a smaller, similar structure not far away. A dozen such places dotted the landscape.
“Thorfinn had this place built for me,” Macbeth said with a smile. “My home in the north,” he said then pulled open the heavy wooden door.
A wave of heat wafted from the room.
The house, true to its name, was long and narrow and built with a rustic design. The roof was made of thatch supported by wide timbers. The walls made of stone, wood, and clay. The floor was made of stone and covered with fresh straw to retain the warmth. The house was divided into sections. It opened to an open room with a hearth. To the right was a partitioned section which appeared to be the sleeping space for Ute. There was another closed space behind that. On the left end of the house was a more substantial sleeping space for Macbeth and me.