“Mum. Mum!”
“What the… May the Great Mother watch over us,” Rhona said, her eyes wide as Andraste stepped out of the darkness.
Frowning and shaking her head with annoyance, Andraste held my jaw still with one hand while she poured an ice-cold liquid from a small silver vial down my throat. The deed done, she turned and stepped back into the darkness, disappearing once more.
I twitched hard one more time then the shaking subsided.
“Oh, my lady, the gods themselves watch over you,” Rhona said in an astonished whisper.
Tira returned a moment later with Macbeth’s healer and two soldiers, men of Moray, alongside her.
“We must move her to the bed,” the healer said.
“I’ll get Lulach,” Tira said.
Half-unconscious, I felt hands move me. Rhona explained to the healer what had happened—leaving out Andraste’s sudden appearance. Macbeth’s man looked me over, looking deeply into my eyes, which I could barely keep open.
“The worst has passed. Does she have these fits often?”
“I don’t know,” Rhona said.
“Rhona, don’t you remember?” Tira asked. “When Lord Gillacoemgain was alive, she had that fit during the council meeting just before—” Tira began but left off, her eyes narrowing as she looked toward the door.
“What’s happening here?” Macbeth asked.
“Your wife, my lord. She had a fit, a shaking ailment,” the man replied.
“Is she… Is she all right?”
“The worst is over, I believe. I did not see the fit myself, but she seems calm now. She does have a nasty cut on her head.”
“We’ll attend to it,” Tira said. “We have Lady Gruoch’s medicines here.”
“Your lady may not wish you to use her—” Macbeth began.
“We’ll attend to it, my lord,” Rhona said firmly.
“Mum! Mum?”
“Mum is sleeping, little lord. She’ll be well soon,” Tira said.
“I, well, very well then,” Macbeth said.
I closed my eyes.
A moment later, I heard Macbeth’s footsteps retreat.
“Call me if she becomes ill again,” the army healer said then left.
“You men, stay by the door. No one comes in to see the Lady of Moray unless she permits it,” I heard Rhona tell the guards.
“What happened?” Tira whispered. “Did something upset her?”
“I don’t know. She was out somewhere. There is snow on the hem of her gown. God knows what game Lord Macbeth played with her now. Take Lulach and get him to sleep in our bed,” Rhona told Tira.
“Come along, little lord,” Tira said.
I heard Rhona sigh as she opened my medicine case. A few moments later, I felt her apply an astringent to the cut on my forehead. She then applied a salve to the wound. She exhaled heavily then sat beside me and took my hand. “I don’t know what happened to you, my lady, but I know one thing for sure. Inverness is no place for you. Only Cailleach saved you from Findelach’s house tonight. Tomorrow, we should return to Cawdor where our mormaer’s spirit can watch over his wife and son. This place is poison.”
I could not speak, but I squeezed her hand.
She was right.
There was no Lord and Lady Macbeth. There never had been, really. My mind replayed scenes, incidents, moments. Suddenly, everything began to fall into place. All the pieces started to fit. I remembered Thorfinn’s words about Macbeth’s whoring ways. I remembered things that had not been quite right, but I didn’t know why.
And then the raven let me see.
Images flashed before my eyes.
Suspicions I had buried because they were too odious, too unthinkable, came to life before me.
Now I knew why Ute had left.
The vision made me gag. I watched in horror as Macbeth did to her as Duncan had once done to me.
Now I knew who the father of Elspeth’s child was.
I saw her and her tiny, dark-haired baby boy whom she had named Findelach.
Now I knew about all the others.
There were so many other faces, so many other women. They lined up to fall into in his bed—some willing, some not. At Thurso. At Inverness. At Cawdor. At Scone. I saw his hands on ladies while my back was turned. His hands in the lap of a woman beside him at dinner, his fingers playing between her legs, while I sat on his other side, oblivious to it all.
All the while, Macbeth smiled and smiled, relishing his secret revenges—on me, on Banquo, on Gillacoemgain—enjoying the pain and confusion he caused.
A tear slid down my face.
Now I knew.
And the raven would never forgive.
Chapter 40
It took me three days to recover. When I was finally well enough to ride, and the storm had weakened to a light snowfall, I returned to Cawdor. I would play the fool no more.
“My lady,” Standish said, greeting me at the gate. He searched my face, concern plastered on his features.
I handed him a note. “Standish, will you please send a messenger for me?”
“Of course. To whom?”
“The Thane of Lochaber.”
Standish bowed. “As you wish, my lady.”
I kissed Lulach on the top of his head. I had brought my son home. And this time, no amount of lies, guilt, nor desire to have things be good—they were not and never would be—would make me go back. Soon, Banquo would come, and my life would be my own again.
* * *
Banquo and Fleance arrived a month later. I had apprised Standish, Tira, and Rhona of Merna’s death. When they rode in, both Banquo and Fleance looked woefully sad. A small party accompanied them, including Morag.
“My lady,” Morag said as I held her horse so she could dismount. “My tired old bones are happy to see you and Cawdor.”
“I have a nice warm fire ready for you, Morag. This is Tira and Rhona. They will help you settle in.”
“Thank you, Lady Gruoch,” she said as she slowly climbed down. “I used to ride the hills half-wild when I was a girl. Now, I think I broke my arse,” Morag said, rubbing her backside.
Rhona laughed. “I think Morag will fit in just fine here. Come along. I’ll steal some of Lady Gruoch’s good wine for you,” Rhona said, extending her arm to the maid.
“Banc!” Lulach yelled, making Banquo smile. I was glad to see the expression on Banquo’s pale and drawn face.
Reaching out, I helped Fleance down from his father’s horse.
“Welcome, my dear. My, how big you have grown. How old are you now, Fleance?”
“I three. Corbie, my mum go to the otherworld,” he said, his eyes welling with tears.
“Yes, love. I know. I’m so sorry,” I said, hugging the boy. “You will stay with me now. I will watch over you. I promise,” I whispered in his ear.
The little boy kissed my cheek and wrapped his arms around my neck. Given he had always been a sprite-like creature, I expected him to struggle to get down. Instead, he sighed heavily and set his cheek on my shoulder.
“My lord,” Standish told Banquo who dismounted. “I’ve arranged chambers for you and your footman. I’ll house your men amongst those of Moray. If you will, Thane,” he said, motioning toward the castle.
Banquo smiled softly at me then followed Standish inside.
“Such a sad sight,” Tira said. “Lord Banquo is usually so merry.”
“These days will be hard for them, but we shall do our best to help.”
Tira nodded, and we headed inside.
I’d rearranged the sleeping chambers so Lulach and Fleance were housed together in the room beside my own, Morag with the boys, and Tira and Rhona in the chamber on the other side. To avoid the gossip that would no doubt follow, I asked Standish to prepare a room for Banquo in another wing of the castle. He would not be able to stay forever, but at least for awhile, he would be amongst friends.