“Cawdor is Lulach’s birthright.”
“Yes, and I urge you to remind him of it,” Banquo said. “Inverness is Macbeth’s home. I think he just wants to go back. He has been Malcolm’s ward, a prisoner in truth, for many years. I think he just wants to go back to being…himself. But Macbeth will benefit from your advising. He needs to see you are not a southern court lady. He’s used to fine ladies acting like lapdogs. You must show your strength.”
“Indeed.”
Banquo sighed. “Are you ready?”
“As I ever will be.”
Banquo helped me into the cart then left to go rally the rest of the party.
“My lady, I’m surprised to see you’re so familiar with the Thane of Lochaber. I didn’t know you knew Lord Banquo?” Ute said, her voice thick with unasked questions.
“Yes. I’ve known him many years,” I replied simply, but said nothing more. Ute took the hint and didn’t press me further.
The wagon driver clicked at the horses, and we headed out. I looked back once more at Cawdor. My heart filled with sorrow as I sensed I was leaving both Cawdor and Gillacoemgain’s memory behind.
Chapter 8
We arrived at Inverness later that afternoon. Kenneth MacAlpin, my ancient ancestor who had united ancient Scotland and ruled over the Kingdom of Alba, kept his seat at Inverness. Despite the fact that I’d grown comfortable and felt safe behind the walls in Cawdor, Inverness belonged to me as much as it belonged to Macbeth. As I passed through the gate, I felt its power. The stones reverberated with the old magic of Scotland. I felt my ancestors around me. And when I closed my eyes, I could hear their voices. It was distracting to suddenly find myself housed in a castle sitting in one of the thin places.
“Do you feel it?” Banquo asked me as he helped me out of the wagon.
I nodded. “I could fall between the worlds here.”
“The thinness is useful at times, for those of us who know the path,” he said with a wink.
I took his hand and squeezed it gently.
“Gruoch,” Macbeth called, crossing the courtyard to meet me.
I let go of Banquo.
“Welcome to Inverness. Please, come inside. Let me show you your new home,” Macbeth said, extending his hand to me.
I nodded, took Lulach from Ute, then went with Macbeth.
Banquo turned and walked away from us, Thora alongside him.
“I’ve had a section of the castle prepared for you and Lulach,” he said, leading me inside. “It’s winter now, but in the summer there is a small garden in your corridor. Come,” he said excitedly, leading me through the winding halls and up a flight of stairs to the second floor. We walked down a rampart that led to a massive door. “This section will be yours.”
Pushing open the door, he led me to a comfortable hall which boasted several benches, spinning wheels, a cozy fire, a space suitable for ladies’ work. Apparently, I was back to sewing and talking about babies once more.
“There is a room there for your maid here,” he said, motioning to a door just off the small hall. I looked back at Ute, who was smiling happily. “And the stairs there lead to the garden below,” he added, pointing.
“My lady, may I go have a look?” Ute asked brightly.
I nodded.
“This way,” Macbeth said, leading me to another door just off the private hall. “Your bedchamber.”
The chamber was vast and nicely appointed. Inside was a large wooden poster bed, a comfortable chair, another spinning wheel, a wardrobe, and several trunks. Someone had lit a fire. The room was warm and nicely adorned.
“This is the best part,” he said then led me to the door on the far side of the chamber. He pushed it open to reveal a balcony that looked over the river.
“It’s lovely,” I said.
“I thought you would like it. My chamber is at the other end of the rampart.”
I nodded. So he had not intended for us to sleep together. Was that only until we were married or would we keep separate apartments, as was the fashion at court? It had never occurred to me that I might sleep separately from Gillacoemgain. I had merely assumed we would be together. Perhaps Macbeth had intended a more formal arrangement, or was he just trying to be polite? I hardly knew. I couldn’t get a fix on the man. So far, I hadn’t seen the person living below the surface of that pale skin and blue eyes. Macbeth was…blocked. What manner of man lived underneath? I wasn’t sure.
“I’ve sent a rider south to Malcolm. We’ll need his approval before our nuptials can be formalized, but I promise to take good care of you. You have nothing to fear here. I’ll see to your every need.”
Can you? the raven questioned with an unseen smirk. The waspishness of the question surprised me. “Thank you,” I replied.
But Macbeth was right. In matters of state, I belonged to King Malcolm. The bloody king who’d masterminded my own father’s death would give my hand where he wanted it given. Learning that I was in Macbeth’s entourage might influence his decision, but that all depended on whether or not he believed he could rule Macbeth. That was something I wasn’t sure about. But Malcolm’s plans were not clear. On the surface, it had seemed he had favored Gillacoemgain. But if that was so, how had Macbeth slipped Malcolm’s yoke armed well enough to war against Gillacoemgain? Had the king decided, in the end, that Gillacoemgain was not the ruler in the north he’d wanted? I didn’t know. But Duncan had been on his way to Aberdeen, and I remembered well that the king had instructed Gillacoemgain to send me there.
“Malcolm… What do you think he will do?” I asked Macbeth.
“I’m not sure,” Macbeth said, but I noticed the guarded expression on his face. “Duncan is his favorite and holds his ear. If there is a way to appease Duncan, we should not anticipate any opposition. Much depends on how much Duncan pouts.”
“Or on Malcolm’s confidence in his ability to bring you to heel. You did, after all, slip his grasp,” I replied, seeking to scratch the surface.
“Yes, well…” Macbeth shifted uncomfortably. His averted gaze was all the proof I needed. Malcolm had sent him north. Macbeth had been tasked with taking Moray from Gillacoemgain.
“And, of course, you also did what you were not supposed to do. Claiming me as a war prize wasn’t part of the deal you made with Malcolm.”
“Deal?” he asked. The muscles under his left eye twitched. “What do you mean?”
“Malcolm sent you north to overthrown Gillacoemgain and subdue Thorfinn of Orkney. Why did you come after me when you knew Malcolm had planned to wed me to Duncan once Gillacoemgain was dead?”
Macbeth stared at me. “How did you know?”
I was right. “Does it matter?”
“Because if I captured the Lady of Moray, Malcolm would have to give you to me or make war to get you back. Either way, I got what I wanted.”
“What you wanted?”
“To be free of Malcolm. To come home, back in the halls of my ancestors. You were the key to my freedom. Malcolm cannot make me return to court as his ward now that I am here in Inverness with the Lady of Moray and Gillacoemgain’s heir at my side. He cannot war against me now. And he cannot force me to return you without talk that will weaken him. I needed you to win my freedom and my birthright. I will not lick Duncan’s boots. I will rule the north as my father did before me, before Gillacoemgain murdered him. I will not give over my birthright to my cousin or anyone else.”
I should have run away with Banquo. “I see,” I said simply.