Page 134 of Highland Queen

Chapter 40

Macbeth, Thorfinn, and a contingent of guards and monks left Dunsinane within the week. They would ride to the River Tay then take a ship to the continent.

“Don’t worry,” Thorfinn told me. “I will bring him back the man he was.”

“A better man, if you please, or not at all.”

Thorfinn nodded but said nothing more on the matter. “Be safe,” I said, kissing him on the cheek. “May Odin, Thor, and Freya guide your steps to the holy city of Rome.”

At that, Thorfinn laughed. “Be well, Gruoch,” he said then mounted.

I went to Macbeth. “I wish you a safe and healing journey,” I told him.

“Dunsinane will be well cared for in your hands. Take care, Gruoch,” he said then looked about suspiciously. “But watch the woods. They whisper.”

“Indeed,” I said. Macbeth was not wrong, I was just surprised he had the ears to hear such things. Once again, my vision of the moving forest came to mind. I shuddered when I thought of it.

Macbeth waved to me then reined his horse to join Thorfinn.

I watched the party depart.

Scotia, I hope you are right.

When Thorfinn and Macbeth rode off for Rome, I had my sincere doubts that anything about Macbeth would change for the better. They would be gone for months. So, in the very least, I would be able to complete my own work.

Time passed. Banquo wrote, sharing with me the details of Aelith’s life. Our daughter was growing quickly, was in good health, and was a silly, happy thing. Fleance and Lulach had passed through once more on their way to tour the country. I was sorry to know I had missed them. One day, I would see my son again. I ached to see all my children, but I didn’t dare leave Dunsinane. My eyes were firmly fixed on the south. From what I could learn, Siward was always on the move. He was looking for a way back north. Malcolm, Duncan’s son, was coming of age. Soon, very soon, Siward would be back. I had lost all hope of ever recovering Donaldbane. The messengers I sent to the Irish king never returned. It was no use, and I would not risk another man in the effort.

Months drifted away.

One day in the autumn, very near Samhain, I was riding from Glamis to Dunsinane when I suddenly felt a strange chill. The wind whistled through the woods, and I heard whispering on the breeze. I pulled Swift to a stop.

“What is it?” Killian asked, looking around. He unsheathed his sword.

“I…I don’t know.”

Come. Come tonight, a voice whispered.

I glanced into the woods. The ancient oaks shifted, but I felt eyes on me.

“Squeaks,” I said.

Killian nodded. “Always with these woods.”

I nodded then clicked at Swift, moving forward once more.

“Gruoch…” Killian said, and I could tell by the tone of his voice that he had something important to say.

“What is it?”

“I wanted to ask you—well, tell you—or ask you— I’m not sure which,” he said with a chuckle.

“What is it?”

“I would like to ask Greer to marry me.”

I wasn’t surprised. Morag had set me on the case, and I had done what I could to see that the two of them had the opportunity to get to know each other better. Greer was a good girl, and Killian a trusted servant.

“Of course, you have my blessing, not that you need it.”

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