Page 140 of Highland Queen

Chapter 42

It was months before Macbeth and Thorfinn returned. When they did so, I was relieved to find Macbeth much changed.

“He is not the man we knew, before or after,” Thorfinn told me. “He is a different man now. But I think…I think things will be quiet for you.”

“Thank you, Thorfinn,” I told him.

Before he left, Thorfinn and I stayed awake late into the night talking about everything he had seen, the other rulers they had met, and the friendships he had formed abroad, many of which would prove helpful in the years to come. Rather than staying with us, Macbeth went to the chapel to pray. I should have known from the first night that nothing would be the same. But who could guess it?

Thorfinn rode out the following morning. I stood at the castle gate and watched him go.

As I did so, a wind blew, and the trees around me swayed.

“Never again will thy eye meet. Farewell, farewell,” I heard a light voice whisper on the wind.

My flesh rose in goosebumps, and I looked all around. There was no one there, just myself and the trees. But then I remembered, in Birnam Wood, the forest always spoke.

Little did I know then, what they had whispered was true.

* * *

Everything comes in threes. Epona had taught me that. The last time I was reminded of her teachings, I had been left alone at Cawdor for six years. I should have known another such time was coming. Threes were all around me, including the number of losses I would face. Tavis’s death was the first, followed by Epona’s, and sadly, Standish wrote not long after Epona had gone, that Kelpie had lain down in his stall one night, and never rose again. In my mind, I imagined Epona and Kelpie together, Epona riding my warhorse bareback across the fields, both of them dizzy with joy.

Three found me once again. After three years, I returned to Lochaber to see Aelith and Banquo. My visit there was not long. While Madelaine did everything she could to care for the kingdom in my absence, I was needed at Dunsinane. Every time I rode out, I left a madman on the throne. So I saw my sweet girl, who didn’t remember me at all, in the flesh for less time than a mother deserved. Aelith, who was a silly, wild thing, grew in Banquo’s and my image, a miniature combination of us both. And the husband of my heart aged, silver streaks lining his hair.

Three came again, and with it, the Thane of Fife and Standish passed from this world to the next. Madelaine left Fife and Lothian to the rule of her husband’s nephew and retired with me to Dunsinane.

The hardest of those three came to me in the briefest of visions. One night, as I was preparing a drink, I spied a ripple on the surface of my cauldron. The water shifted and changed, then formed a window into Ynes Verleath. I saw Andraste there.

“Andraste?” I whispered.

She inclined her head to me. “Graymalkin has gone,” she said sadly. “I’m sorry,” she added then slowly disappeared.

“Thora,” I whispered. “Oh, Thora.”

Alone in my bedchamber, I wept that night until I felt like I had no more tears in me. I knew her time would come, but I ached all the same. My beloved dog was gone.

Thereafter, another three years passed. News came that Morag has passed. I mourned her death. But it was at the end of these quiet years, a total of nine years later, that the trumpets sounded, alerting us to the approach of important riders. Not expecting any visitors, Madelaine and I looked at one another.

Perplexed, we headed outside. It was spring once again, and the forest all around the castle was trimmed with bright green leaves. The scent of fresh flowers filled the air. I closed my eyes, relishing the feel of sunlight on my face. When I did so, I went back in time to that moment in Moray when I was pregnant with Crearwy and Lulach. I remembered Gillacoemgain’s laughter and the taste of summer strawberries. A soft breeze blew, and on it, I swore I could smell the deep lavender and cedar scent that clung to Gillacoemgain.

“Corbie,” Madelaine exclaimed, surprise in her voice.

I opened my eyes to see a group of riders coming toward the castle, the banner of Moray flying high.

And at the front of this band was a strapping lad, a mirror of my dead husband, with long, black hair and the tattoos of a druid.

I gasped. “Lulach.”

I wanted to run across the courtyard to greet him, but I restrained myself. It was then that I spotted a familiar face beside him. Looking so much like his father was Fleance.

“Corbie,” Fleance called, waving to me. He grinned at Lulach, batting his friend playfully on the shoulder, then slipped off his horse.

Lulach also dismounted. He righted his doublet, and the two of them crossed the courtyard to meet us.

“My gods,” Madelaine whispered. “Look at them.”

I swallowed hard and tried to master my emotions.

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