Page 154 of Highland Queen

Chapter 46

As I made my way back, it occurred to me that time had passed in the real world. In the wake of Banquo’s death—or, at least, what they would believe to be his death—everything would have fallen into disarray.

I needed to get to Fleance and Lulach. I needed to let them know we were still alive.

As I hurried through the tunnels, I heard strange sounds beyond the rocky hill. The noises confused me. I was glad when I found my way to the court of the Parisi king but struck with a chill when I realized the center brazier was lit. Someone had been here recently. Had Macbeth returned to Dunsinane? How? Surely Killian would have followed him to the ends of the earth for what he had done. Unless Macbeth killed Killian, in which case, they might not even know.

I pulled Uald’s Gift and rushed down the hall. As I did so, I heard shouting and saw fire. When I emerged in the yard, I saw soldiers everywhere. Archers were on the wall, shooting flaming arrows into the night. A battalion of men stood ready at the gate as a battering ram crashed into it. Dunsinane was under attack.

“Madelaine,” I whispered.

I turned and rushed up the steps toward the second floor. As I passed, the soldiers gawked at me in surprise.

“It’s the queen.”

“The queen!”

I grabbed a soldier by the arm. “Where is Lady Madelaine?”

“On the third tier, with the king.”

Macbeth was here. He was here! That damned, murdering bastard was here.

I raced up the steps. As I did, I felt the raven within me swell in power. My blood thundered, my heart beat wildly. I heard the beat of ravens’ wings. Rushing to the third level, I watched as flaming arrows were launched from Dunsinane into the night. Outside the castle walls, men cried out.

As firelight streaked the sky, I spotted Macbeth standing at the wall. He was all alone. He stood, staring down at the forest.

I went to the wall and looked out.

There, I saw something strange.

The woods were moving. Branches and leaves made their way toward the castle.

“Loose,” a soldier called from below.

Flaming arrows shot into the night sky once more. As they flew, they illuminated the hill below Dunsinane. The trees were not moving. Those were men. Siward had disguised his army. He had bedecked the soldiers with tree limbs and leaves. Under the flash of firelight, I spotted the colors of Northumbria under the disguise. Siward had used the forest itself to creep in on Dunsinane.

Birnam Wood had come to Dunsinane Hill once more.

I turned and looked at Macbeth. To my great surprise, he had turned and was staring at me.

He wore a white dressing gown and his crown. He held a sword in front of him.

“Are you real?” he asked.

“You’re about to find out how real,” I answered. Brandishing Uald’s Gift, I rushed at him.

Macbeth blocked my attack and spun away.

I swung again. Uald’s Gift glimmered in the firelight. Our swords met, and we dueled one another, moving across the stones. My heart beat hard in my chest. I would kill Macbeth. I would kill him, or I would die trying.

“Gruoch,” he said, his voice pleading.

Feeling even angrier at the mere thought that he would try to talk to me, try to appease me, I attacked once more, screaming as I advanced on him.

Macbeth fell back, defending himself from my blows.

“Gruoch, I’m sorry,” he whispered.

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