“My friends, the Lord of Mar has gone forward to greet the king. The Earl of Northumbria and his army follow a league behind King Duncan. When we attack, the king will retreat to join the earl’s army. Duncan does not believe we have had time to prepare. He will not expect our army. And yet, even when he does see us, he will believe he has the better of us.
“He does not.”
“When we engage the king’s army, the men of Lothian and Fife, loyal to Lady Madelaine, will turn on Duncan and join us. Know they are your allies.
“I will ride with a small group of men to rescue the Lord of Mar, who will be amongst the king’s people. The rest of you men stay under the direction of your lords,” Banquo said then paused. Torchlight illuminated him. How handsome he looked in his armor, the flames reflecting on him. My vision doubled, and I saw Banquo and Prasutagus together. My once and future husband.
“The king has sent a large portion of his army by ship with the intention of making port at Aberdeen. They seek to surprise us, crushing us from both a frontal assault and a surprise wedge from the east. Lord Macbeth has gone with heavy ships against the king’s armada. Echmarcach of the Isles has joined forces with Thorfinn the Mighty to ensure the safety of Orkney. My friends, the king’s plan is as weak as its creator. We have seen through all of his schemes and have moved to counter them. There can only be one result, a result long coming, to this war: King Duncan will be no more, and King Macbeth will sit on the Stone of Scone!”
The men roared. The sound rose up into the night and to the ears of the Morrigu. This song belonged to her.
“Come, men. Let’s ride,” Banquo yelled, and then the lords turned around and began barking orders.
The army began to advance.
We swarmed across the land that was familiar to me. But looking out from underneath Gillacoemgain’s helmet, the nature of the land around me changed. I saw visions. At first, I was confused. Then the Morrigu whispered a truth to me: some lands bleed more than others. Riding beside me were phantom beings, armies from the past. First, I saw the men of Ynes Verleath marching across the land. I watched the phantoms battle, the men of Ynes Verleath against the armies of Dal Riata, Pict against Northman, Celt against Roman. I heard swords crashing together and the grunts of men—and women. I smelled blood.
Then one face stood out. I saw my kin, Kenneth MacAlpin, whose looks reminded me of my father. It was Kenneth who’d finally brought the north under control. It was he who united Pictland with the old Kingdom of Dal Riata and created Scotland. Scotia remembered this union. The Morrigu remembered this bloodshed. The Crone remembered these deaths.
My vision was interrupted by my commander’s call to halt. The phantom images dissipated like puffs of smoke. I suddenly became conscious of the passage of time. Lost to the raven’s visions, I realized we’d been riding south far longer than I’d realized.
The men began to stir excitedly. Everywhere I looked, men adjusted their weapons. This was what I had been missing all those times when Macbeth and Banquo had gone into battle. This was the truth of war. It was glorious.
I watched as Banquo rode the length of the army to ensure that all was in order. As he neared, I unsheathed Uald’s Gift and lifted it into the air. It glimmered in the firelight. He slowed, lifted his hand to salute me, and then moved on. I sheathed my sword and smiled down at Thora.
“You keep out from under the horses’ feet when they start charging. Some of these horses have been trained to kick. I don’t know how long I’ll be on horse, but try to stay nearby. If you lose me, look for Banquo. If something happens to me, get Banquo.”
Thora wagged her tail.
It was not long after that when Banquo moved us forward. The lords began to ride more aggressively, and the men around me began to unsheathe their weapons. I lifted my shield and took out Uald’s Gift. We rode over a small crest. Duncan’s army sat on the other side.
They were on lower land than us, their army only a fraction of the size of our own. Their scouts would certainly have informed Duncan we were coming. As I looked across the field, I saw that the army stood at ready.
Banquo lifted his hand in the air. The lords turned around on their horses and lifted their swords. The men began to scream, cackle, and yell. I joined my voice with theirs. Banquo pointed his sword forward and screamed, “Now!”
I had one moment of clarity when I watched Banquo and a group of men break off—they would go for the Lord of Mar—then I was pushed forward on the wave.
Duncan’s army rushed forward to engage our own. My eyes focused as I reined Kelpie to move quickly across the field. I sought out Duncan only to realize he was not amongst these men. Where was he?
When we rode into the army of men advancing upon us, it was like we had hit a massive wall of steel. We came to a stop, and, looking over the attire of the men we battled, I realized we were fighting Irish mercenaries. The men of Fife turned around and joined us, but my attention was lost when a man twice my size came at me in an attempt to pull me off my horse.
His battle-ax slammed forcefully into my shield, making Kelpie shy sideways. Furious, I struck out with Uald’s Gift. As the blade swung, it had a silvery sound that made the air shiver. I sliced the man’s head from his neck. His face held a moment of awe and fear, and then his body fell to the ground. Seconds later, another man was upon me.
As soon as one man was defeated, another stepped into his place. I rode forward hunting Duncan. Duncan, Lulach’s father, the man who had pushed me to the ground and had changed my life in a moment of sheer pleasure, where was he? His action had forced me to birth a daughter whose face I rarely saw. Duncan, the waster, the taker, the user. As I fixed my mind on this purpose, something strange happened. The men who had lined up to meet their death turned and ran away. All of them.
“Give chase, give chase,” the lords called.
And be mindful, I thought to myself, that you chase a small army of bought men into a substantial army of Englishmen who had come to fight Scots, as Englishmen were apt to do. As we rode, I spotted Banquo and a small group of men, including the elder Lord of Mar, rejoin the army. I breathed a sigh of relief.
We gave chase. Below me, Kelpie began to lather as I sped across the field, Thora racing to keep pace. After a hard ride, the Earl Siward’s army, with the earl and the king at the front, came into view. The lords barked at us to move back into ranks.
“Make ready,” the clan chieftain, MacDougall, called.
The men across the field lifted up their voices then charged.
I moved forward with one goal, to kill the man in the golden armor. MacDougall led his men into a flanking maneuver, but that stratagem led me away from Duncan. I left them and raced across the field to join Banquo. He and a small band of soldiers rode directly toward the king.
Once the advance began, however, Duncan, the pompous coward, whirled his horse around and retreated to the back of the army.
“Damn him,” I cursed.
When we met the Earl of Northumbria’s men, it quickly became evident that we weren’t fighting Irish mercenaries anymore. These were well-trained English soldiers. Though I was part of the cavalry, the men I fought against were on foot. Those men had one goaclass="underline" remove the cavalry from horseback.
One well-armed man after another advanced on me. My position of height made it easy for me to take these men’s lives. The raven within me shrieked with pleasure as each man fell. But the men around me, seeing their comrades die, became more desperate to get me off my horse. In a desperate maneuver to unseat me, they began to beat at Kelpie. He was a strong horse, but he was also well beyond his prime. I could feel the anxiety rising within him as he whinnied and kicked. Thora snapped and bit, trying to defend Kelpie as best she could. My concentration on my goal waned as I fought more for my horse than for my vengeance. One man came forward swinging a massive claymore. He had seen the other men try to dislodge me and fail. From the gleam in his eyes, I understood his intention. He was going to cut Kelpie down.