I chided myself. No one knew Banquo better than myself. He was nothing like Macbeth.
When we finally arrived, Banquo helped Ute out of the wagon. I followed behind with Lulach. Thora was already running off to find her pack. Once inside, I poured water for Ute and myself. Ute had already gone to lie down.
“Are you all right?” I asked, setting a glass of water on the table beside her bed. She lay with her knees pulled up tight against her chest.
“Yes,” she said tiredly.
“Do you want anything for the pain?”
“No,” she said. “The worst is past. I…am sorry to trouble you with such things. I am indebted to you.”
I smiled down fondly at her, chiding myself for my earlier annoyance with her. Ute had been good to me and had endured a lot on my behalf. She deserved better from me.
“As I am to you. If you need anything, please don’t hesitate to ask. Now or ever in the future.”
Ute’s eyes watered, a tear slipping down her cheek. “Thank you.”
I left her. My body ached as well, and I’d started to feel twisting cramps. I knew this was normal, that my body was just making ready for the baby, but I didn’t feel well.
A short while later, there was a knock on the door. Morag and Banquo appeared.
Morag nodded to me. “My lady.”
“Reinforcements,” Banquo said.
“Now, come along, Lord Lulach,” Morag said, picking up the boy.
“Gruoch, you should lie down,” Banquo told me then set a hand to my forehead. “You’re warm.”
“Ah, my wife has returned!” Macbeth called happily as walked toward us. His smile dimmed when he took us all in. “Is everything well?”
“Ute took ill on the trip. She’s resting,” I said.
“Morag will attend Lady Gruoch until Ute is better,” Banquo added.
Disinterested, Macbeth gave a slight nod. “And you, lady?” he asked, looking at me.
“Just the normal troubles,” I said, setting my hand on my stomach.
“And your friend?”
“Safely delivered a son.”
Macbeth smiled. “Would we were so lucky, Gruoch.”
“I think Lady Gruoch should lie down,” Banquo said, his face scrunched with worry.
“Indeed, you’re not looking well, my lady,” Morag said, taking me gently by the arm. “Sons, sons, sons, that’s all some men care about. Can’t he see you’re aswoon on your feet,” she added under her breath.
Settling me into bed, Morag patted my arm. “Don’t worry about your boy, Lady Gruoch. Merna and I will watch him like he was our own blood. Get some rest.”
Grateful to her, I slipped under my blankets.
“Gruoch, are you all right?” Macbeth, who was standing in the doorframe, asked.
“Just weary. I didn’t sleep much. I just need some rest, that’s all.”
“Oh. All right. Very well.”
“I’ll be fine by morning. Nothing to worry about.”
He nodded then turned and left.
Afterward, I fell asleep. I saw a terrible dream. Gillacoemgain standing in the roundhouse as fire burned all around him. I heard him calling my name. I watched as if through a window and could do nothing, could not move, could not speak. The fire burned so hot. I stood frozen, watching as the flames took him. All the while, he screamed my name. The image startled me so that it shook me awake. I woke with a scream.
“Gruoch?” Macbeth said, sitting up.
When had he come to bed?
“Macbeth. I…” I began then a sharp pain rocked my groin. Grunting in pain, I strangled back a scream.
“My lady,” Morag called. Without waiting for permission, she entered the room. “What’s the matter?”
“She had a dream,” Macbeth said.
Morag frowned at him then set her hand on my forehead. “Burning with fever. We need to get you out from under the blankets,” she said then pushed the cover aside to reveal the puddle of blood all around me.
Macbeth gasped.
“Go get Lady Merna. Now,” Morag told Macbeth.
“Morag,” I whispered.
Macbeth rose and ran out of the house.
“Lie back, Gruoch,” she said.
Another sharp pain crashed across my back and waist.
Morag adjusted my legs and lifted my skirts to examine me. After a moment, I heard her suck in a deep breath then let it out slowly.
“Morag?”
She lowered my dress. “Lay on your side. It will ease the pain. Gruoch… I’m sorry.”
I closed my eyes. The pain hadn’t felt right. I should have known. I should have known. My back ached miserably, and hard cramps shook me. Black spots appeared before my eyes.
“The pain will pass by morning,” Morag said. “But then it will be over.”
No, no, no, no. This can’t be happening.
“My lady?” Ute called from the door.
“Lady Gruoch has had a misfortune,” Morag whispered.
Ute gasped.
“It happens to many ladies, most of whom go on to have children later. I’ll watch over her. Get your rest,” Morag said.
A few moments later, the door opened once more.
I heard Merna, Banquo, and Macbeth. I could not make out their words, but Macbeth seemed to be in a panic. Merna was the first to enter the bedchamber. Morag spoke quietly to her. I did not hear all their words, but a few moments later, Merna sat beside me on the bed.
“Morag will bring you something for the pain,” she said, gently taking my hand.
I kept my eyes closed. Terrible cramps racked my body.
The outside door opened and closed once more. From outside the longhouse, I could hear Banquo’s and Macbeth’s voices. Their conversation was heated. Macbeth’s voice was low and angry. I heard a hard edge to Banquo’s voice I’d never heard before. Their words were muffled, but I guessed the nature of the quarrel. Macbeth would blame Banquo. And me. He would place the burden of this on our shoulders.
As I listened, their voices grew louder.
Macbeth screamed at Banquo. “This is your fault. You, who are so free with my wife. What have you done? My son!”
“Macbeth, please,” I heard Banquo try to reason, but soon I heard a scuffle.
“Oh, my gods. These men,” Merna said glaring at the door.
“What’s happening here? What in Odin’s name are you two doing? Get off him, Macbeth,” Thorfinn said.
There was another muffled, angry exchange when finally Thorfinn, it seemed, had enough.
“Don’t you know your wife could die?” Thorfinn shouted. “Stop blaming Banquo, and go to her.”
A few moments later, Morag returned. “Men. Always looking for someone to blame. Sometimes it’s just not the will of the gods. Drink,” she told me, handing me a cup.
I sat up slowly, drinking the warm tonic. I recognized the herbs therein. They were strong. I knew they would loosen my mind and numb the pain.
Outside, the shouting continued, and I heard Macbeth’s voice recede into the night, Thorfinn following him.
A moment later, the door opened. Banquo appeared at the entrance to the bedchamber. His face was shadowed in the darkness, but I could see there was a fresh cut above his eye.
Merna flicked her eyes toward her husband. She shook her head but said nothing. Instead, she turned back and smiled down at me, gently pushing my hair behind my ear.
“I’m sorry this happened. I truly am. Please don’t worry about Lulach. I’ll take him to my home and put him down with Fleance. I’ll look after them. Morag will stay with you.”
“Thank you,” I whispered.
Merna squeezed my hand, nodded, then rose. Passing a few low words to her husband, she left.
“I’ll make a hot compress for your back,” Morag said then went back out to the main room.