Page 133 of Highland Queen

“Ill in spirit. He is unwilling to support Macbeth further.”

“I’m glad to hear he is well in body. I love Banquo and Macbeth like they were my brothers, but I have eyes. This trip to Rome is well devised. Your idea?”

“It was an inspired thought.” It was, in fact, Scotia’s idea, but I wasn’t sure she wanted Thorfinn to know that. “And you want to go? Really?”

“My ambitions are different from Macbeth’s. We will go to Saxony and meet Emperor Henry and then on to Hamburg. I have already made the arrangements.”

“Then you must speak to the bishop. He, too, has made plans.”

“Bah,” Thorfinn said, waving his hand dismissively.

“You do know people make this pilgrimage in honor of the White Christ? You will go to Rome where they will, no doubt, ask you to be baptized.”

Thorfinn shrugged. “After such a long walk, I will need a bath.”

“Thorfinn!”

“I am named after the thunder god. He knows my heart. No pretty words and scented oil will change that.”

When we reached the uppermost level of the castle, we found Macbeth looking out into the forest.

“Macbeth,” Thorfinn called.

Macbeth turned around. He smiled widely.

“How gaunt he is,” Thorfinn said with a gasp.

“He is unwell. It is a burden you are taking on. He believes he speaks to angels.”

Thorfinn gave me a concerned look then crossed the space to meet Macbeth.

“I told you he would come,” Macbeth shouted at me.

I nodded to him then turned to go.

He was right after all.

I only hoped that maybe his angels could guide him back to sanity.

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