Page 149 of Highland Queen

“I rode alone,” Macbeth told us. “I wanted to see if I remembered the way.”

“Perhaps a drink,” Banquo said, motioning to his servant. “A wine, for His Majesty.”

The servant nodded then rushed off.

Behind Macbeth, Killian had drawn his sword. His eyes met mine. I motioned for him to hold.

“I keep seeing you at supper, Banquo,” Macbeth said as he pulled off his gloves. He tossed them into the fire. “All week, you were there in the chair beside me, but you were covered in blood. I asked the others. No one else saw you. Not even Madelaine. She told me I have scorpions in my mind. But every night, you came and sat beside me. You never spoke, you just sat there, staring at me, a dagger sticking out of your chest. Isn’t that strange?”

“Very strange,” Banquo agreed.

“Very strange,” Macbeth repeated. “So, of course, I had to come and see for myself if you were among the living,” he said then hit the side of his head. “Scorpions. They scurry.”

Beside me, Aelith whimpered.

Macbeth turned and looked at her. His gaze lingered far too long.

“She’s very like you, Gruoch,” Macbeth said. “And you too, Banquo. I see you both in her eyes.”

“What do you want, Macbeth?” Banquo asked, his voice hard.

“Wine. Where is your servant?”

“Here, Your Majesty,” the girl called. She carried a tray with wine goblets.

Macbeth lifted a goblet and drained it. He took another cup from the tray. He crossed the room and pushed the goblet toward Banquo.

“Drink, Thane,” Macbeth said, forcing the drink at him.

“I’m well enough without it,” Banquo said.

I watched Macbeth. There was a mad gleam in his eyes. I pulled Scáthach from my belt.

“I said drink,” Macbeth told Banquo. “Let’s drink, old friend. Look at your daughter. How beautiful she is. I never had a daughter. I had a son, but they tell me he died in battle. And then there is the child Gruoch lost. Two dead sons. But look at your daughter. Your daughter…with my wife. How beautiful she is,” he said, stepping toward Aeltih.

Banquo moved between us. “Macbeth,” he said, his voice full of warning.

“Look at her. How like an angel,” he said then exhaled loudly. “Stars, hide your fires. Let not your light see my black and deep desires.” Moving quickly, Macbeth pulled his dagger and lunged at Aelith.

Aelith screamed.

Brandishing Scáthach, I readied myself, but then the unthinkable happened.

Banquo moved to protect us. He stepped between Macbeth and us. But he was unarmed. Using only his body, he blocked Macbeth’s blow.

There was a terrible thud.

Banquo groaned then staggered backward.

Macbeth stepped back, his hands wet with blood.

Banquo turned to face us, a dagger protruding from his chest.

“Cerridwen,” Banquo whispered.

Aelith shrieked then fled, Greer racing after her.

Banquo fell into my arms.

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