Banquo stiffened then stopped. “What do you expect me to do? How would you feel watching Merna grow ripe with my child? I’ll be gone as long as I need to. Goodnight, Gruoch, daughter of Boite,” he said then let me go. Turning, he headed toward the beach.
“Banquo?”
He did not look back.
“Banquo, please.”
He disappeared over the rise and into the dark of night.
Sighing, I turned and went to my house. There was a strange shiver in the air and a cold wind whipped around. When I pushed open the door, I was met with the sharp scent of flowers. I was standing on the cauldron terrace of Ynes Verleath.
“How now, daughter?” a familiar, crackling voice asked.
“Andraste?” I had walked between the worlds.
“I come as the raven,” Andraste said.
“And what do you herald?”
“A royal death. “
“A royal death?”
“Your father will be avenged,” Nimue said.
“Malcolm. When?”
“When the mother sleeps, so shall he,” Andraste replied.
“And after?”
“Strife,” Nimue said.
“And blood,” Andraste added.
“And crowns for kings,” Nimue said. “And queens.”
“Make yourself ready,” Andraste added then waved her hand before her.
The cold wind blew once more. I rocked a little as I reappeared in the longhouse, standing just outside the open door.
“Oh, my lady, you startled me,” Ute said, turning. She was kneeling before the fire, banking up the logs.
I entered slowly, my hands and knees quaking. “Sorry. Is Lulach sleeping?”
“Yes, my lady.”
I nodded absently.
“My lady, you should take your rest. I…was so pleased to hear your news,” she said, her voice wavering a bit.
“Thank you, Ute. Ute, are you well?” In truth, she had been acting odd since we arrived in Thurso. I had thought it was the strain of the travel and the foreignness of the place, but perhaps there was more to it. Of late, she seemed…nervous.
Ute gingerly set another log on the fire. “I’m well.”
I was keenly aware that she was not meeting my eyes.
“Are you certain?”
She rose, clapping her hands. “Yes, my lady,” she said with a forced smile.
“Very well,” I said, eyeing her carefully. “Goodnight then.”
She nodded. “Goodnight.”
When I finally lay down, I thought about Andraste’s words. A royal death was coming in the winter. Did I dare warn Macbeth? Would he trust my sources? Word had come that Malcolm’s spring illness had left him weak, but had not killed him. Yet Andraste’s word was to be trusted. She knew what would be.
I would say nothing…yet.
Chapter 23
Two days later, I was wandering along the seashore with Lulach, tossing stones into the water, when Banquo and a man I did not know approached. The man wore the garments of a humble farmer.
Banquo had not spoken to me since we’d quarreled. And he hadn’t come out of his house. Merna told me he was not feeling well, but her eyes held a different tale. When I offered to check on him, she dissuaded me.
“Oh no, I’ve got the matter in hand. It’s nothing serious,” she had said then changed the subject.
I had no idea what was going on, but I was pleased to see him up and about once more.
As he approached, he only fleetingly glanced at me. I noticed he had dark rings under his eyes and looked very pale.
“Banquo? Is anything the matter?”
“This is Master Young. He’s a neighbor to Sigurd and Gwendelofar.”
“One of my lads helps Sigurd on their farm. Gwendelofar asked us to send for you. She expects her little one soon,” the man said.
I nodded. “Thank you for coming. I’ll get ready at once.”
“Shall I wait and take you, my lady?” Master Young asked.
“No, I’ll take her. Thank you, Master Young. Please have your horse refreshed at the stables. Tell them I sent you.”
“Thank you, Thane.”
Banquo nodded.
The farmer turned and headed back toward the village.
“Dat, dat,” Lulach babbled. “Dat, mum, dat,” he said, tugging on my skirt.
Following his gaze, I looked out at the water. Not far away, a pod of dolphins swam, their fins breaking the surface of the water.
“Dolphins. They’re hunting fish,” Banquo said, kneeling beside Lulach. “The fish swim near the shore, so they’ve come to eat them up. There are many dolphins in the Moray Firth which you will rule over when you are mormaer,” he told my boy.
Lulach’s blue eyes widened as he looked out at the water. Banquo picked him up. “Here, lad. Have a better look. There,” Banquo said, pointing.
As Lulach studied the water, Banquo studied Lulach. “His eyes and hair are like yours, but not his brow nor that chin…or dimple,” he said, squeezing Lulach’s cheek. “I met Gillacoemgain once. You were married to him at the time. He came to Lochaber to check my allegiance. He was guarded and suspicious of me, but he spoke plainly and fairly. In truth, his manner surprised me. He did not seem like the man he was rumored to me. Lulach does look like him.”
My stomach clenched. The truth would help nothing here.
“Merna said you’ve been unwell.”
“I’ll be fine,” Banquo said dismissively. “Look, Lulach. You see? Watch them. They may jump.”
“Banquo,” I said then moved closer to him.
“I’m fine,” he said stiffly. “Shall we go back and provision? We’ll want to leave soon.”
“I must speak to Macbeth.”
“Of course,” Banquo retorted, his voice sharp.
I made no comment.
“Can you say goodbye to the dolphins?” Banquo asked Lulach.
My little boy waved, watching and waving even after the creatures were out of sight. Banquo followed Lulach’s gaze. Banquo narrowed his own glance, and I felt the air around us shift.
“Dat. Dat. Banc, Banc, look. Dat,” Lulach said, pointing.
I followed both their gazes. There was a shimmer on the waves, and the water moved as if something had been there, but I couldn’t see anything.
“Yes, I see,” Banquo told Lulach then kissed his cheek. “But they are very naughty. You must stay away. Do you understand?”
“Dat. Dat,” Lulach said pointing.
“What do you see?” I asked.
“Your child has eyes for the otherworld,” Banquo said.
Frowning, I looked again. “As do I, but I see nothing.”
Banquo smiled. “Men’s eyes are different, Cerridwen.”
“Indeed?”
“Indeed. Those who sing from the waves call to men, not women.”
I stopped and looked back. How oddly the sun shimmered on the water, making it sparkle and come alive with light. There was something there, but I could not see it. “Selkies?”
“You’re the one who named your horse Kelpie,” Banquo said with a soft smile. I was glad to see him relax.
I took Lulach’s hand and kissed it. “No selkies for you. And no faerie princesses either.”
“Faerie princesses?”
“Sid… She told Lulach he should marry the princess of the Seelies.”
“Sid was here? When?”
“But a brief moment in the early summer then gone again, as is her way.”
“Cerridwen, I’m sorry for my tone the other night. You know I wish you well, I just…”
“You don’t need to say anything.”
“I do. I was less than kind. I was jealous. And angry. It was wrong. I’m having a hard time—”
“You are only human. And you are forgiven. I did not think I would be able to bear a child again. And things with Macbeth have not been easy.”