But then I remembered the Morrigu’s words. There would not be peace. Once more, war was coming.
Regardless, the night passed cheerfully. Thorfinn was perpetually smiling, and I found that I liked him very much. His hall was a happy place. The wild drumming and pipe players had us all dancing. Switching dancing partners from Macbeth to Banquo to Thorfinn, my feet were exhausted by the end of the night. As the evening waned on, the revelers either fell asleep near the fire or returned to their lodgings. At some point, I realized I could barely understand Macbeth’s slurred words, and his head bobbed drunkenly. I had never seen him in such a state before.
“I think my lord needs to find his bed,” I told Macbeth whose eyes fluttered drowsily. He might be drunk, but he was also happy, which was a good change of pace.
“Yes. Gruoch. You’re right,” he said then tried to stand but swayed and sat back down.
“Good night, my lord,” I told Thorfinn.
“Lady Macbeth,” he said, raising his tankard.
I chuckled. It was a miracle Thorfinn was still upright. His blood much have been half ale.
“Merna and I shall go now as well,” Banquo said, taking Merna’s hand.
I had kept an eye on Banquo that night, watching his practiced hands and eyes. Druid-taught, he melded into the cheer without drinking too much or forgetting himself. Long ago, druids were the chief advisers to kings. They needed to keep their wits about them at all times. It seems this was a skill Balor had instilled in his student.
Macbeth, on the other hand, had grown up at Malcolm’s court, and he was dead drunk. “Come along, my lord,” I said, practically lifting Macbeth.
Macbeth stumbled to his feet. “Brother,” he told Thorfinn. Then leaning heavily on me, we exited the hall.
Banquo chuckled. “You’re swimming home, Macbeth.”
“No, you are,” Macbeth retorted stupidly, which made us all laugh.
We walked to our longhouse where Merna and Banquo collected Fleance and their maid. When Banquo’s man who’d been standing guard saw us approach, he nodded to his lord then turned and left.
“Morag, this is Lady Macbeth,” Merna said, introducing me to the woman. She was an older woman about Madelaine’s age with silver in her dark hair and lines on her brow. She dropped me a tired curtsey.
“My lady,” she said. “A fine boy you have, my lady. Sweet-tempered and easy to soothe.”
“You almost sound jealous,” Merna exclaimed good-naturedly.
“I am! Fleance is a wee devil. In three hours’ time, he nearly fell into the sea twice, the fireplace three times, upset the Macbeth’s bed and food stores, and almost had the wardrobe pulled down on himself.”
Banquo took the sleeping child from Morag’s arms. “Morag, you’d be far too bored with a babe like Lulach.”
“Would I? I spent the entire night wondering if Lady Macbeth would have me! My old bones… Ute is young. Perhaps a trade?”
“We could never give you up, Morag,” Banquo exclaimed.
The woman shook her head sadly. “So I was afraid you’d say, my lord.”
We all chuckled.
“Goodnight, Gruoch,” Merna said, kissing me on both my cheeks. “Sleep well.”
“And you.”
Banquo, hands full of his wee devil, inclined his head to me then they headed back to their own house.
I smiled at Morag who winked at me.
Ute, who had stepped outside, waited for me. “Lulach is sleeping, my lady,” she said.
“Thank you, Ute. Come, my lord,” I said, leading Macbeth to the bed. He swerved as he walked. “Watch your step here,” I said, guiding him across the threshold.
Ute chuckled at the sight.
Moving carefully, I helped Macbeth to bed then pulled off his boots.
“Prettiest wife in the hall,” he said, reaching for me.
I shook my head then sat on the side of the bed beside him.
He reached out and touched the amulet I wore. “Where’d ya get this?” he asked, his voice slurring.
“My father,” I lied.
“So, did he tumble you?”
“What?”
“Banquo. Like Thorfinn said, has he had you?”
My stomach knotted. “No,” I lied again, feeling guilty for it.
“I see the way he looks at you.”
“There is nothing to see.”
Macbeth laughed. “You’re a liar, Gruoch. I see the way you look at him too. Did you look at Gillacoemgain like that? God knows that’s not how you look at me. By Christ, I think I drank too much.”
“Oh? You think?”
Macbeth laughed, rolled over, and then fell asleep.
I sat there a moment longer. I hated lying, and in the span of a single moment, I’d lied twice. I dwelled for a moment on Macbeth’s words. How did I look at Banquo? Was my love so obvious? And Gillacoemgain? A light smile crossed my face. Yes, I had looked at him with love. I glanced down at Macbeth and sighed. He was drunk, but he was also right. I didn’t look at him like I’d looked at Gillacoemgain or Banquo. It’s just…nothing was working. I wanted to love Macbeth. I really did. He was just so damned difficult to deal with.
A cry pulled my attention away. Lulach.
Sighing once more, I rose and joined Ute by the fire.
“There now, wee boy,” I said, lifting the child from his bed. “Ute, why don’t you get some rest? I’ll be awake for a while.”
“Thank you, my lady. And thank you for sending someone. Morag was good company. And it was kind of Lord Banquo to have a man keep watch.”
I nodded.
“Goodnight, my lady.”
“Goodnight, Ute.”
I sat there in the silence, listening to the crackling of the fire, and staring down at my sleepy boy. Lulach got his fill then slept. I stayed with him, holding him a bit more, staring down at him. He smiled in his sleep, his left cheek dimpling. I kissed the baby on his forehead then lay him back down in the wooden cradle near Ute. I still didn’t like having him so far from me.
I turned and headed back to the other end of the house when I heard a distinctive scratch on the door. I unbolted it only to find a shivering dog on the other side.
“Well, do they know you’re the alpha yet?” I asked Thora.
Thora wagged her tail then trotted inside, heading directly toward the hearth where she flopped down.
Bolting the door once more, I headed toward our partition. There, I found Macbeth snoring loudly and reeking of ale.
Sighing, I pulled off my boots and slipped into bed beside him, pulling the heavy furs over me. For the first time in our marriage, my husband slept by my side, passed out cold from drink.
Chapter 17
A few weeks later, Banquo and I rode out to see what he called “the treasure of Caithness.” We’d left early that morning. Having had success getting Lulach to eat a few bites of porridge in the past weeks, we would be able to make the trip and back before my wee lad got too fussy. Ute, Morag, and Fleance would, no doubt, keep Lulach distracted. It warmed my heart to see Fleance hopping around my own son, making Lulach laugh and smile.
Things had improved with Macbeth—a little. He was much more relaxed in Thorfinn’s company than I’d ever seen him at Inverness. He’d taken to drink, but it cheered his mood significantly but also unevenly. He came to my bed each night. Thus far, however, only for sleep, which I found peculiar. I couldn’t tell if the man wanted me or not. Did he love me or not? The whole thing was so confusing, at times I felt like I was going mad. The trip into the countryside with Banquo was a much-needed respite from the confusion.
“So, you won’t tell me where we’re going?” I asked as we rode toward a glen.