“Lady Gruoch?” It was Macbeth.
Sleepy, I opened my eyes. My head still ached terribly. I rose, adjusted my stained gown, then went to the door.
“Macbeth?” I asked, opening the door. “What can I do for you?”
“I apologize,” he said, looking me over. “I’m sure you were resting. We are preparing to leave for Inverness in the morning. I wanted to be sure you knew,” he said, eyeing the room behind me. I realized then that he’d come with an excuse just to see me. I suppressed a frown. Though I was curious about him, about all those visions, I was in no condition for a visitor.
“Thank you. I’ve advised my maid to get everything ready.”
He nodded. “I was wondering if I might have a few words.”
I stared into his light-colored eyes. I realized then that he looked tired. My heart was moved with pity. “All right. Come in,” I said, stepping back to open the door.
“Thank you.”
I nodded then closed the door behind us.
Macbeth pulled off his heavy gloves and sat down near the fire. “Cawdor is being looked after,” he told me. “Your people are being treated well. I saw your maid inquiring.”
“They are good and loyal people.”
Macbeth nodded then smiled. “Your little one is sleeping,” he said, nodding toward Lulach.
“He is a strong piece of life. It’s a lot of adventure for such a tiny babe.”
Macbeth looked around the chamber. “Is this the chamber you shared with my uncle?”
The question made something in my spine stiffen. I hated the tone in Macbeth’s voice, the contempt he held for the man I loved. But Macbeth thought Gillacoemgain a murderer, the man who’d killed his father. He didn’t know what kind of monster his father was, and I’d promised never to tell Gillacoemgain’s secret, as much as I wanted to throw it back in Macbeth’s face. “No. I stayed here late into my pregnancy while Gillacoemgain was away.”
Macbeth nodded, but a frown crossed his face. Clearly, he was not as comfortable wedding his uncle’s bride as he professed.
Lulach, however, broke the tension. The little babe woke and cried loudly. From the sound, I knew he was hungry.
“He’s hungry,” I said softly, hoping Macbeth would excuse himself.
He didn’t.
I lifted Lulach, pulling my gown aside to feed the hungry child. He took to my breast at once.
“Hungry little boy,” Macbeth said after a moment.
When I looked up, I saw him smiling at Lulach and me.
“Yes,” I said, looking down at Lulach.
Macbeth sighed. “He may be Gillacoemgain’s son, but he is still my blood.”
“That he is. Macbeth, we haven’t discussed your plans for the future, but I came to you knowing the consequences. We will wed, and I will secure your hold on the north. Through me, your bid to the crown will strengthen. I care little about these things. Lulach is everything to me, and he is an innocent. What will you do with my son? Will you send him away? I implore you, raise him as your own. He will never know any father save you,” I said softly.
Macbeth rose and came to sit on the bed beside us. He gazed down at Lulach. “I’m sorry that after all these years, all those visions, we’ve found one another in such difficult circumstances. In truth, when I was a boy, I loved my uncle very much. I never understood why my uncle killed my father. Even now, it makes no sense to me,” he said then reached out and touched Lulach’s foot. “I will raise your child as my own. And when I do, I will remember the uncle I loved. In turn, I will love his child like my own. And his mother too, if she will have me, in more than just name. I know it will be hard at first, with Gillacoemgain just lost and so recently bearing your child, but I cannot help but believe the Lord wanted us together.”
“The Lord?”
“Of course. It was the Lord who intervened between us, showed us our true destiny with one another. We are twin souls, meant to be. How else could you explain such miracles?”
“There are more gods than just the White Christ.”
Macbeth frowned. “I was told you were fostered in a convent. Aren’t you a follower of the White Christ?”
“No. But I have no quarrel with any god.”
“Then you believe in the old gods, as your father did?”
“I do, as do many in Moray. You’ve been at court a long time, Macbeth. The courtly ways are not the ways of the people here. You must learn the values of your people.”
Macbeth chuckled. “So Banquo and Thorfinn tell me. I guess there is still room enough in Scotland for all the gods,” he said, but there was something in his voice that told me he didn’t believe what he said.
The raven eyed him warily.
“I’ve imposed upon you for too long. You look very tired. Gruoch… Are you well? There is blood on your dress.”
“Just a nosebleed, that’s all.”
He nodded. “Too much being outside in the cold weather. Let me go. You need some sleep.”
“Thank you for checking on me.”
“You will be my bride. It is my job to care for you, body and soul. Sleep well, Gruoch.”
“Corbie.”
“Sorry?”
“People who know me well call me Corbie.”
Macbeth smiled. “Goodnight.”
“Goodnight, Macbeth,” I said gently.
After he’d gone, I lay down with Lulach once more. My whole body ached terribly. I sighed.
“Oh, Andraste. What a mess you’ve made,” I whispered into the darkness just before I was lost to dreams.
* * *
What sleep I did get was fitful and full of nightmares. Over and over again, I saw Gillacoemgain burning in the fire. Between the bad dreams and Lulach’s hungry cries, I was utterly exhausted.
In the thick of night, I heard Lulach cry out once more. I nearly wept at the sound. I was so tired. Groggily, I reached out for him only to sense someone else in the room with us. Then, I heard a soft voice singing a lullaby. In the dim candlelight, I saw a figure rocking my child.
Startled, I sat bolt upright. Once my eyes cleared, I saw Banquo standing there with Lulach in his arms.
“I brought you a pitcher of fresh water,” he whispered. “It’s there by your bedside. There is bread in case you are hungry.”
Stunned, I stared at him. But a moment later, I realized then how parched I was. I poured myself a glass of water and watched Banquo gently rock my son, lulling Lulach back to sleep.
“Rest your head, my Cerridwen. I’ll wake you if he needs to be fed,” Banquo told me.
“But…” I began, a thousand protests wanting to tumble out of my mouth.
Banquo, who’d been looking at Lulach, turned to me. “Sleep. I’ll watch over you both. Don’t worry. I’ll be gone before the sun rises. No one will know. Take a few hours of rest. Your son is safe with me.”
Exhausted, relieved, conflicted, and desperate, I lay my head back down and closed my eyes. And this time, I slept peacefully.
Chapter 7
The following morning, Lulach’s cries woke me. I rose groggily to find my baby boy nestled safely beside me in bed, Thora lying protectively at our feet. Our midnight watchman was gone.
“There now, little love. I’ve got you,” I whispered to Lulach. I changed his wet bed clothes then sat down to feed him.
The first light of dawn was just peeking above the horizon. A soft lavender color filled the skyline. I closed my eyes and thought about Banquo. I felt immense gratitude. Unmoored from Gillacoemgain, with Macbeth’s nature unclear and Malcolm’s plans threatening, I’d felt so alone. How fortune it was that Banquo had appeared in the middle of the mess. There was still something between us. I may have buried my feelings to survive, but they still existed. Only someone who truly loved me would come in the middle of the night to care for me and another man’s child.