I’d told the Morrigu that Lulach’s fate was beholden to none. It was his own to decide. But what if I had already steered him down a path ill-suited for him?
“Little Lulach,” I whispered then kissed my child on his brow. My hand drifted to my stomach, to the life growing so unexpectedly inside my womb. Soon, I’d have another’s future in my hands. I hope the fates would be easier to the child of Macbeth.
Chapter 24
We reached the small farm just before nightfall. Sigurd met us at the door.
“Ah, here is Cerr—”
“Lady Gruoch,” Banquo interrupted. “And her maid, Ute.”
“Ah, yes. Lady Gruoch. Just in time. Gwendelofar started swearing in Rus about an hour ago,” he said then laughed.
I chuckled. “My maid kindly offered to come along. We thought she could help keep Neda occupied. And here is my little Lulach.”
“Oh, aye. Let me see him,” Sigurd said, reaching out to Lulach who grinned at him. “He looks much like you.”
I smiled. “Thank you.”
Banquo handed me my medicine kit. “We’ll see to Lulach. Why don’t you check on Gwen?”
“Come along, Lord Lulach. Neda is hiding in the barn. Let’s see if you can talk her out,” Sigurd told my boy.
I headed inside.
Before I even reached the door, I heard Gwendelofar muttering in her mother tongue.
“Gwen?” I called.
“Cerridwen, thank goodness. Took you long enough.”
I bit my tongue then grinned at her. “Very sorry. My maid came with me, so it will be Gruoch or Corbie.”
Gwendelofar nodded like she couldn’t care less. “I think this baby is trying to break my back,” she said, pressing her fists into the small of her back.
“And your labor pains?”
“I knew it was starting. That’s why we sent our neighbor to you. My water broke soon after. The pains are not too close yet, but getting worse.”
“Let me prepare you something to ease the aches,” I said then opened my box.
Gwen didn’t argue.
I mixed a concoction, which she drank readily. Then we prepared for a long night.
Gwen paced most of the evening, but with mine and Sigurd’s firm but loving suggestions, and just a little bit of muttered cursing, she finally lay down. To my great relief, she fell asleep. Before Neda fell asleep, I made good on my promise to her.
“Neda,” I called to the girl. Bending down, I opened the trunk I’d brought with me. I smiled at Neda, her long red hair flowing down her back. Her locks put me in mind of Madelaine. “I have something for you,” I said handing her a package.
Sigurd watched, a smile on his face.
The girl unwrapped the parcel carefully, revealing the small harp therein. “Oh, how beautiful!” Setting the harp down carefully, she threw her arms around my neck and hugged me.
I chuckled. “I’m glad you like it.”
Sigurd smiled. “It’s beautiful. Thank you.”
Neda beamed up at her father then snatched the harp and ran outside. Not long after that, we heard the strings jangle discordantly. Sigurd let the girl play for awhile before he finally ushered her into bed. She passed out with the harp clutched to her chest. Sigurd made up a pallet for Ute and Lulach as well. And as the night wore on, they both finally fell asleep.
Sigurd and Banquo spent most of the night outside by the fire. I had stayed inside beside Gwendelofar who mostly dozed, but finally, I had gotten weary as well. I joined the men only to find they had both been overzealous in toasting the coming babe. They had both drunk themselves half blind which was unusual for Banquo. The sight of them sitting by the fire took me back to nights long ago.
“Cerridwen,” Sigurd called. “Is everything all right?”
“Thank the gods she is sleeping. She’ll need her rest before the hard work begins.”
I sat down beside Banquo, who handed his ale horn to me. I waved it away.
Banquo laughed. “You know, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you lost in your cups before.”
“I don’t think I ever have been. And tonight, alas, is not the night.”
“Cerridwen is far too serious for that,” Sigurd said.
“I am not.”
“I’m not saying it’s your fault,” Sigurd said. “You just spent too much time with Uald.”
“Uald is not serious. She just doesn’t like people,” I said with a laugh.
“And you?”
“Maybe I’m a little serious, and I don’t like most people.”
Sigurd chuckled.
“Cerridwen knows how to have fun. And she’s very serious about it when she puts her mind to it,” Banquo said then smirked at me. There was heat in his eyes which he never showed in public. I was surprised to see his expression so open.
Sigurd caught the glance. “Indeed. Druid?” he said to Banquo then turned to me. “Is that true?”
“What better time to be serious than when you’re having fun?” I asked.
Sigurd laughed. “I hear many a man and woman are serious on Beltane.”
“As Neda can prove,” I said.
Sigurd chuckled then rose. He was wobbly on his feet. “Every day is Beltane when you’re with your beloved. Speaking of, I’ll go check on my wife.”
“For the love of all the gods, do not wake her,” I called.
“I’ll do my best,” Sigurd said then headed inside.
Banquo filled his ale horn once more. “Don’t know how you can handle it without drink. When Fleance came into the world, I thought my hair was going to turn white.”
I laughed.
The fire crackled and popped sending sparks into the sky.
“The old ones are speaking,” Banquo said, motioning to the fire.
“And what are they saying?”
“They’re dreaming of Beltane.”
“Them or you?”
Banquo chuckled. “Both of us.”
“Banquo, are you well?” I asked, looking him over carefully.
“I…I’m fine. In fact, at this moment, there isn’t a thing more I could ever need,” he said then set his hand on the back of my head, gently stroking my hair. “My Cerridwen.”
I gazed into his eyes. He had drunk too much, and it had loosened his tongue.
Why would the Goddess do this to me? Why would she give me someone to love, take him from me, then throw them back in front of me in a place and time where we could not be together?
But what was standing in my way? A promise I’d made to Macbeth, fidelity promised to please a god I did not honor. Didn’t my vows to Banquo mean more than that? In truth, Macbeth was difficult to love. No amount of visions and dreams could change that truth. My honor held me back from taking what I really wanted. But should it?
As if reading my thoughts, Banquo took my hand. “There is a glade not far from here where the moonbeams fall on a stream, and a wide oak grows. Maybe we should have a look. We wouldn’t be far away. If Sigurd called, we would hear. Cerridwen, I need you.”
I stared into the fire. Could I? I carried another man’s child. It was not right. But still.
“Banquo,” I whispered, squeezing his hand.
Banquo rose. Taking my hand, he gently pulled me to my feet.
The door to the house opened, and Ute stepped out.
“My lady?” Ute called, her voice wavering.
“Is something the matter?” I asked, trying to kill the resentment in my voice. By all the gods, why had she come?
“Um, no. Lady Gwendelofar and Lulach are fine. I… Can I have a moment, Gruoch?”
Her use of my common name stamped out the fire in me at once. Something was very wrong. I turned to Banquo. From the look on his face, I could see he had also heard the plea. He nodded to me then dug into his coat where he pulled out a pipe and lit it. He refilled his ale horn once more and sat back down, staring into the fire.