Highland Queen Page 9

  “To fetch a healer.”

  “It’s dark,” he said in confused alarm. “Can’t you send someone?”

  “No. I cannot. I must go.”

  Without another word, Killian fetched his own horse and began saddling him.

  “What are you doing?” I asked.

  “Coming with you.”

  “No, you may not.”

  “Forgive me, my queen, but Standish made me promise that no harm would come to you. I don’t intend to falter on my promise.”

  Frowning, I nudged the bay away from the oats then finished saddling him.

  “Then you must learn to keep secrets.”

  “Secrets? I… Of course, my queen.”

  “And you need to start calling me Gruoch, or I may lose my patience with you. Come. We must hurry,” I said then slid onto my horse.

  “As you wish…Gruoch.”

  We rode off into the night. Part of me wanted to let the bay run the way I knew he could, but the other part of me remembered how fragile my womb was. I had lost Macbeth’s child. Banquo’s child was more precious to me than anything on Earth save Lulach and Crearwy. Yet Tavis’s life was at stake. I had to hurry.

  We rode deep into the night, finally reaching the stream where Tavis often camped. When we arrived, I debated what to do. I had never agreed with Madelaine’s reluctance to bring Tavis to the coven. He was not a practitioner of our faith, but he knew what the coven was and had even befriended Uald. There would have been no harm in bringing him, yet he never came. I glanced at Killian. He had proven himself loyal, and I knew he worshipped the old ways. He was not the problem. Crearwy was. No one from the outside could ever see my daughter. Not even a man I trusted to protect my life.

  “What is it?” Killian asked. “Do you need to rest?”

  “No. We are nearly there, it’s just…this place I’m going to is special. It is closed to the outside world. I will ride ahead but will return soon with holy women, healers, who must be taken back to the castle at once.”

  “I should ride with you.”

  “I assure you, I am safe here. Make camp here. I’ll send word or come myself within the hour.”

  “Gruoch,” Killian protested.

  “By the Great Mother and Father God, I ask you to trust and obey me,” I said, and with a twitch of my fingers, I pulled a bit of magic from the aether, wrapping glamour around me.

  Killian flexed his brow then inclined his head. “As you wish. I see there is an old fire pit here. I will camp… for now.”

  I nodded. “Thank you.”

  Killian huffed a laugh. “Secrets then, Lady Gruoch?”

  “Don’t we all have our secrets?”

  “I suppose we do. Your secrets are safe with me,” he said then bowed. I couldn’t help but catch the glimmer in his eyes. Maybe Banquo was right. Perhaps Killian did hold some affection for me. It was a love I could never return, but if he admired me, he would be more inclined to keep my secrets.

  “Thank you,” I said then turned the horse and rode into the night.

  I moved through the dark forest, guided only by the moonlight. An owl shrieked, and animals moved through the woods, unseen. At that moment, I wished I had Thora with me. She had been a constant comfort and protector. I keenly felt her absence.

  I pushed through the woods, finally arriving at the coven when the moon was high in the sky. I was surprised to find the place quiet. No one had risen to greet me.

  The fire was out in Sid’s house. Her windows were dark.

  Frowning, I tied the bay then went to Uald’s smithy. I crept quietly inside to find her in her sleeping chamber, snoring loudly.

  “Uald,” I whispered, gently shaking her shoulder.

  She woke with a start and sat bolt upright. She grabbed a dagger from her bedside and brandished it in front of her.

  I stepped back. “Don’t kill me.”

  “Cerridwen?” Uald asked, her eyes clearing.

  “Yes.”

  “What…when did you arrive?”

  “Just now.”

  “Epona didn’t tell us to expect you.”

  I shook my head. “The entire place is asleep.”

  Uald frowned hard. It was not like Epona to miss that a visitor was coming.

  “Why are you here?” Uald asked.

  “Tavis is gravely ill. I must wake Druanne. She must go at once.”

  “Oh, well, this will be interesting,” Uald said with a chuckle then rose.

  “That’s why I need you. Will you go with her? I need to see Crearwy, but Tavis…”

  “No. You stay. I will take Druanne.”

  “I have a man at the old camp. He will ride with you.”

  “Corbie has another man. That’s not much of a surprise.”

  “Not that kind of man,” I said. I had enough problems to sort out without complicating things further by entertaining a romantic dalliance.

  Uald rose and grabbed her things. She nodded to me.

  We crossed the coven square to Druanne and Aridmis’ house. Uald knocked on the door.

  There was a shuffle inside. A moment later, Aridmis, her blanket wrapped around her, opened the door.

  “Good evening. Or is it morning?” she said.

  “Who is it?” Druanne called.

  “It’s Uald. And Cerridwen.”

  “What?” Druanne asked sourly. Her bed creaked, and a moment later, Druanne appeared behind Aridmis. She scowled at me. “What are you doing here?”

  “I’m here for you,” I said, biting back the hundred or so nasty words that wanted to spew from my mouth. “Tavis is with Madelaine at the keep. He took a sword wound and is gravely ill. The wound has festered. I think it may be in his blood. I have no proper medicines with me, and Fife’s healers are unlearned. We need you.”

  “Where is Epona?” Druanne demanded.

  “Asleep,” Uald answered, a sharp tone in her voice.

  Aridmis looked at Druanne.

  “And you want me to go…out there?” Druanne asked.

  “I will ride with you,” Uald said. “And Cerridwen has an escort for us.”

  “Oh…wonderful,” Druanne said, rolling her eyes so hard it must have hurt.

  “Enough, Druanne. Tavis is dying. That man has been true to the secret of this coven and one of its daughters for many years. Please. Please come,” I said.

  Druanne blew air through her lips then turned and went back into the house. I heard the rattle of boxes, bottles, and tools as she began collecting her things.

  “I’ll get the horses ready,” Uald said then turned and headed back to her smithy.

  Aridmis stepped outside, pulling her blanket more tightly around her.

  “I wish you many felicitations,” Aridmis said. “I saw it there, your crowning,” she said, pointing to the heavens. “But wish I had seen it with my own eyes. Queen of Scotland.”

  I nodded. “May the Goddess guide me.”

  “Hmm,” Aridmis mused with a heavy shrug.

  I looked at her. “Aridmis, you’re making me nervous.”

  “What’s fair is foul and foul is fair,” she said.

  “You’re not the first to say that to me,” I told her, remembering that Andraste had said those very words to me just before my entire life turned upside down.

  “I know,” Aridmis said with a wink.

  A moment later, Druanne reappeared, bags and boxes in hand. “I’m ready.”

  I nodded to her then the three of us went to join Uald who was leading the horses. I took the reins of Uald’s steed, so she could mount.

  “My man’s name is Killian,” I told Uald. “He is a loyal man. Ask him to take you to the keep. Please reassure him that I am safe here.”

  Uald nodded.

  I took Druanne’s things, so she could get on. As she settled in, I secured her bags and cases. “Thank you, Druanne.”

  “Who am I to say no to the Queen of Scotland?” she said then turned her horse and headed toward the coven exit.

 
; Uald shook her head then followed Druanne into the night.

  Wordlessly, Aridmis and I watched them go.

  I cast a glance around the coven. It was so quiet. It seemed to me some of the buildings had fallen into disrepair. Everything looked run down.

  “What do your raven eyes see?” Aridmis whispered.

  “I don’t know.”

  “Decay. Decline.”

  “Yes.”

  “You must prepare yourself. As do we.”

  “For what?”

  Aridmis took my hand and led me to Epona’s house. Moving quietly, we went inside.

  The light from the hearth made the place glow a soft orange color. Someone stirred in one of the rooms in the back. And a moment later, a shadow appeared in the eating area—but it wasn’t a person.

  It was a dog.

  A black puppy.

  “Thora?”

  The dog wagged her tail then walked over to me.

  No, this wasn’t Thora. This pup had a spot of white just above her eye. I recognized the puppy. She wasn’t Thora, but she was one of the pups from Thora’s litter. Eochaid had done as I’d asked and delivered the puppy for me.

  “Well, grand-dog-daughter, how do you fare?” I whispered, patting the dog on her head.

  “She appeared in the coven not long ago. Uald swore she looked just like your dog. But Sid…Sid knew,” Aridmis said.

  The puppy licked my face then went and lay down in front of the fire.

  Aridmis lit a taper, and we headed to the back of the house where Epona slept.

  At first, I was confused. In Epona’s bed was a woman whose advanced age put me in mind of Andraste. The woman had white hair tinged yellow. Her face was deeply lined and marred by age. She looked old and frail under her heavy blanket.

  She sighed in her sleep.

  It was then that I realized that the woman was Epona.

  “Aridmis,” I whispered.

  She nodded. “Her time is coming to an end.”

  A soft sigh sounded from the other room. Aridmis shifted the candle, panning the light therein. On a small pallet was a little body lying under a heavy bear fur. A mop of dark hair fell from the bed to the floor.

  Crearwy.

  There was no denying she was my child, but in her placid face, relaxed with sleep, I saw the mirror of Gillacoemgain’s sister.

  “That’s not possible,” I whispered.

  “What’s not possible?” Aridmis asked.

  “She looks like Gillacoemgain’s sister. Just like her.”

  “And why isn’t that possible?” Aridmis asked.

  “Because…”

  Aridmis set her hand on my shoulder. “Goodnight, Cerridwen.”

  I stared at Crearwy. It didn’t make any sense. Certainly, Gillacoemgain’s sister did share some looks with me, some small features, but it was almost as if I was starting at the shade herself.

  “Aridmis,” I said, my heart thudding in my chest.

  Aridmis turned and looked back at me. “Cerridwen, why should you be surprised? All children resemble their family,” she said then turned and exited Epona’s house, leaving me standing there, reeling at her words.

  It wasn’t possible.

  It just wasn’t possible.

  Both Epona and I had seen a vision the night I was assaulted, a vision that showed us I would have twins. And Andraste had plainly stated that I carried Duncan’s children.

  But Andraste tells lies.

  The words echoed through my head. But whose words were they? My own? The Goddess? The raven?

  Setting my candle down on the table beside Crearwy’s bed, I slipped onto the pallet beside her. Covering us both, I wrapped my arms around my daughter and pulled her close to me.

  She stirred a little in her sleep then sighed contentedly.

  Exhausted from the long night’s ride, worried for Tavis, confused about Epona, my mind in a fit of confusion, I lay staring at the wall.

  Crearwy took my hand into hers. “Welcome home, Mother,” she whispered.

  My heart full of joy, I finally relaxed and drifted off into dreams.

  Chapter 17

  I woke the next morning to the feeling of someone playing with my hair. I opened my eyes to find Crearwy sitting up in bed working on a braid.

  “Mother, what happened to your hair?”

  “I cut it.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I wanted to honor the Morrigu before I went into battle.”

  “Did you go into battle?”

  “Yes.”

  “And did you kill many people?”

  “A fair few.”

  She nodded. “And did you win?”

  “Yes.”

  “So, now you’re Queen of Scotland?”

  “I am.”

  “Does that make me a princess?”

  It did if anyone knew she existed. “Yes.”

  “Well, your hair is too short to braid properly.”

  I chuckled. “You sound like my maids.”

  “You have maids?”

  “Yes, Tira and Rhona. And there is also Morag, who looks after Lulach and Lord Banquo’s son, Fleance.”

  “How funny. You have women looking after you like you’re a child.”

  “Well…” I began, but then I realized she was right. It was rather ridiculous.

  The black puppy, roused by the sound of voices, appeared. She jumped on the bed with us.

  Crearwy giggled. “Now, Beauty,” she chided the dog. “Behave.”

  “Beauty? That’s what you’ve named her?”

  Crearwy nodded. “She thinks she’s the one who is a princess.”

  I patted Beauty on her head. “Well, Thora always did think herself important. No wonder her daughter would be the same.”

  “Thora? Your dog? Sid told me this puppy was a gift from you, but I wasn’t sure if I should believe her.”

  “Always believe Sid.”

  Crearwy flexed her brow as she thought about my words. “Druanne looks at Sid like she’s a mad woman.”

  “That’s because, for all of Druanne’s wisdom, she cannot see the Otherworld. Sid is not mad.”

  “No. I didn’t think so. But I do think she likes to play tricks…for fun.”

  “Well, that I can believe.”

  “Crearwy?” Epona called from the other room. “Who are you talking to?”

  “My mother.”

  There was a pause, and I heard the bed creak. A moment later, Epona appeared in the doorway.

  “Cerridwen?”

  I sat up and looked at Epona. She and Andraste could have been sisters. “Oh, Epona.”

  She chuckled lightly. “Yes, I’m sure I’m quite the shock. What are you doing here?”

  “Madelaine and I were planning to come, but Tavis is gravely ill. Druanne and Uald have gone to Madelaine’s keep.”

  Epona nodded. “Oh. Yes. Well…she will miss him terribly,” she said absently then turned and headed back into the main room. “I’ll make the breakfast.”

  I looked at Crearwy who didn’t seem a bit disturbed by Epona’s odd behavior.

  “Let me go help,” I said then kissed Crearwy on the forehead.

  “All right. I’ll go feed the animals since Uald is gone,” Crearwy said.

  “You know how?”

  She laughed as though I’d asked a silly question. “Of course.”

  “Don’t forget to put on your cloak.”

  “Mother.”

  I bit the inside of my cheek. They were right. She was every bit as sharp around the edges as they said.

  Pushing my hair back, Crearwy’s half-braid falling out, I went to the main room and started banking up the fire.

  Moving slowly, Epona began setting out the dishes. “Now, there is Crearwy and me, Juno, Tully, Aridmis, Cerridwen, and…and…and Flidas. I will set a place for Sid. She will come back to see Cerridwen,” she whispered to herself as she worked.

  “And May?” I asked.

  “May? No. She left a
year or so ago.”

  “Where did she go?”

  “Somewhere west. We had a girl here for a short time, a promising acolyte, daughter of a clan chieftain, but she left. May went with her. Crearwy was grown enough, and May wanted to start a new life.”

  “She just…left?”

  “Not like that. We all supported her.”

  “But how did Crearwy take it?”

  “She cried a bit, but all things change,” Epona said.

  I frowned. No doubt Crearwy had suffered from the loss. I hated the idea that she’d grieved, and I had not known, had not been here to comfort her.

  Once the fire was burning steadily, I opened Epona’s cupboard and had a look. The rations were paltry.

  “Epona, do you want me to ask Madelaine to send some supplies?”

  “Yes. Yes, that would be fine. Ask Madelaine to get some things for us,” she said then went to the bin where she used to keep the bread. It was empty. Epona gazed at the empty container as if she was confused.

  I pulled out some oats and honey. Digging through Epona’s stores, I found a few fresh eggs. I got to work mixing up the batter for breakfast cakes while Epona set out cups.

  “Why are you here, Cerridwen?” Epona asked.

  “As I said, I came to see Crearwy. But with Tavis ill, I had to fetch Druanne. Unfortunately, that also means I must return very soon. Madelaine will need me.

  “And why else?”

  I sighed softly. “Epona, I need your guidance.”

  “About what?”

  “A seer told me I am with child.”

  Epona’s gaze narrowed. She looked at my stomach. “And are you with child?”

  “I believe so. My courses have not come. And I do feel the quickening in my womb.”

  “Macbeth’s or Banquo’s child?”

  “Banquo’s, of course. What should I do?”

  Epona stared at me, her eyes looking misty. She sighed. “I’m sorry, Cerridwen. I cannot say. The sight has left me.”

  Her words struck me to my core. “But Epona, Crearwy is far too young to be the leader of this coven. Why have you let go so soon? Crearwy is not ready.”

  “I was letting go a little at a time. And then one morning, I woke up and my magic was gone,” she said, opening her hands.

  “Gone?”

  “Just like that. No visions. No glamour. No anything. Now there is only my mind and my hands. They will have to be enough to serve me in the days ahead.”