Everything had been undone.
Behind me, I heard the jingling of rigging.
Thora growled low and mean.
I heard voices at the alehouse behind us, but I didn’t move. Why bother? It would come, he would come, and then I would make what I could of my future.
The snow and frozen grass crunched under someone’s feet as they neared. Only one person approached. I listened to the footfalls. It wasn’t Tavis.
Was it Macbeth, or had he sent a messenger?
Thora growled again.
The footsteps stopped.
“My lord,” the soldier who’d accompanied me said stiffly.
Someone spoke in a low tone to the solider. I heard my guard retreat.
Metal armor clicked as the unfamiliar person approached. Thora growled and stepped toward the stranger. “I was told Lady Gruoch came this way. Instead, I found her familiar. Some mean looking teeth, lady,” the man said, his voice filled with playfulness. I was in no mood for jokes.
“Heel, Thora,” I said, motioning to her. Thora’s reaction to the newcomer had not escaped my notice.
“Hello, Thora. I am Macbeth.”
While Thora had stopped growling, she still stood with her hackles raised.
I stared at Macbeth’s silhouette reflected on the standing stone. It twisted grotesquely.
“Lady Gruoch. Cousin. Thank you for riding north. I must admit, I’m puzzled by a woman who turns from the chosen successor of Scotland to join her husband’s conqueror.”
I frowned hard and clenched my hands into fists. Part of me wanted to turn around and bash his face in—well, most of me. I heard the angry beat of my heart. But then I reminded myself that I was the one who’d chosen to ride north. This was a nightmare of my own making. Calming myself, I said, “You avenged your father, as you no doubt thought was your right.”
“It was my right. The cutthroat Gillacoemgain murdered his own brother, my father, over a square of land.”
I bit my tongue. It took everything within me to remember my promise to Gillacoemgain and not spit out the truth at this pompous bastard. “You’ve had your blood. Are you satisfied now?”
“I am. But that explains my motives. What about yours. Don’t you mourn your husband?”
The question enraged me. “How dare you ask me that! I loved Gillacoemgain. He was a good man,” I replied sharply, turning on him.
When I finally got a look at him, however, whatever else I had intended to say faltered.
Him.
It was him.
“You,” Macbeth whispered.
Sunlight shimmered down on Macbeth’s raven-colored tresses. He looked just as I’d seen in my visions. The cut of his chin, the shape of his nose, his soft, blue eyes. It was him, my raven-haired man. He was real.
And he was…Macbeth?
“It’s you,” I replied, my voice shaking.
Macbeth stepped closer to me.
Thora growled.
“You’re real. All those visions… I thought I was going mad, or maybe some fey thing had taken a fancy to me, but it’s you,” he said, coming closer. “You’re real.”
Thora bared her teeth and barked at him.
The sound woke Lulach from his sleep. He cried out in protest.
I looked away from Macbeth, turning my attention back to Lulach. “Sh, wee one. It’s all right,” I whispered softly, rocking Lulach.
“Is that the child of Gillacoemgain?”
Involuntarily, I clutched him tighter, moving my hands protectively over him. “Yes. This is Lulach. He’s barely a week old.”
“You rode so soon after bearing a child?”
It was not really a question. I didn’t answer.
Macbeth’s face softened, and he looked at me with pity. “I’ll have a wagon arranged for you. My men are on the Spey. We can move slowly.”
I eyed him closely. Macbeth was my raven-haired man in the flesh. I had run to my husband’s killer to escape a fate worse than death. Against all possibility, I’d run to the very man I’d decided was nothing more than a phantom. Andraste had known it all along. But what manner of man was he? I didn’t know. I’d seen him in my cauldron, no more. Had I run from the wolf to lie down with the bear?
“My lady,” he said, offering his arm to me.
I stepped toward him but paused when Thora growled once more.
“Your dog, my lady,” Macbeth said, eyeing Thora warily.
I cocked an eyebrow at her. Odd. Thora’s sense of people was always very good. Perhaps she was just responding to my own mixed feelings.
“Enough, Thora,” I said. I stepped in line beside him. Feeling wary due to Thora’s reaction, I did not take his arm.
Her ears flat, Thora followed ruefully along behind us.
“Lady Gruoch, I am astounded to find you with such a small babe so newly born. You must be exhausted. I trust you are unhurt?” Macbeth asked as we walked back toward the alehouse.
In truth, I was tired to my very core, and my body ached miserably, but I would not have him know it. “I shall manage.”
“I’m at a loss for words. Please don’t worry. I’ll make the arrangements for your comfort.”
I felt desperately confused. I eyed Macbeth out of the corner of my eye, noticing that he was doing the same. How many times had I seen him in my cauldron? Now, here he was, in the flesh, with Gillacoemgain’s blood on his hands.
Part of me hated him.
The other part of me, however, felt the smallest glimmer of hope.
Tavis and his men were waiting at the alehouse amongst Macbeth’s men, all of whom were heavily armed. Macbeth ordered his soldiers to get a wagon ready.
Tavis eyed me nervously. “I should travel with you,” he said.
I shook my head. “I cannot escape my fate. There is nothing more you can do. Please, ride back to Madelaine. Let her know I’m safe.”
“But your little one,” Tavis said, eyeing Macbeth warily. “Corbie,” he whispered, searching my face with that same fatherly expression I’d seen there before.
“I swear I’ll be all right. Macbeth needs me to secure his claim. I won’t come to any harm,” I whispered, squeezing his hand reassuringly.
Tavis didn’t look convinced, but he nodded and let me go.
“Make sure Lady Madelaine’s men are provisioned,” Macbeth ordered. His men moved off to follow their commander’s orders.
Soon, the wagon was ready, and Ute, Thora, Lulach, and I were loaded in. Tavis stayed behind, watching as the cart drove out of sight.
I waved to him then turned and settled in as we set off north.
Chapter 4
Our small party met with Macbeth’s larger force at the River Spey that night. The full moon was high in the sky. It was a cold night. A light dust of snow covered everything. The trees shimmered crystalline in the moonlight. I smelled the sweet scent of the river in the distance.
While Macbeth had ridden close throughout the day, there were too many ears around us to talk. The ride had been long, cold, and awkward. Ute was clearly displeased at the turn of events, and Thora watched Macbeth suspiciously. While Lulach mostly slept or rested against my chest, I knew well that my son had no business on the road. The sooner we got to Cawdor, the better.
When we reached the Spey, Macbeth left us. “I must see to my men, but I’ll return soon. I’ll do my best to have you and the little one back to Cawdor tonight.”
“Thank you,” I replied then watched him march off. The soldiers nodded or bowed to him as he passed through the row of tents.
“Why don’t you walk a little, my lady. Your body must ache. Our little lord is sleeping. I’ll watch over him,” Ute, who had been holding Lulach, told me.