Lady macbethad, p.11
Lady MacBethad, page 11
Once again I was leaving the place I had called home and the people I loved. Only this time, I would take no one with me; I would be utterly alone. Father would stay behind with Adair until King Malcolm granted him his land, and it was unlikely I would hear from them for months, possibly years. Unless Crinan sent a messenger to Moray there would be no way to learn of how Adair progressed in his training, or how Findlaich and Donalda fared. MacBethad’s fate would also remain unknown. I avoided looking at him now, sure I would not regain my composure once I had lost it.
Instead, I kissed Adair’s head and held him close. My brother had clung to me since my departure for Dunkeld was settled. I had been a monarch in his eyes long before any betrothal confirmed it, and I would do everything in my power to live up to his image of me. I kneeled down and pulled him close.
‘Do not forget where we come from,’ I whispered.
‘Aye, I won’t,’ he mumbled into the folds of my cloak.
‘And don’t forget the stories I told you,’ I continued, longing to stretch out this final moment with him.
‘I won’t.’
‘And don’t forget that Barrach hides the best sweets in the pot beneath the stairs in the Great Hall.’
Adair pulled away, frowning.
‘Aye! It was I who found it,’ he said, put out that I had taken credit for his little discovery.
I had to fold my hands in front of me to stop myself from pulling him into another hug. I knew if I held him again, I would never let go. Donalda and Findlaich also approached to say their goodbyes. Findlaich pulled me into an awkward embrace. Donalda kissed both my cheeks and whispered a prayer over my head as tears filled her eyes.
‘Off you go,’ she said with a smile as a guard rode up to me and reached out his hand.
At first I thought it was in greeting so I waved in reply, but he indicated that I should mount with him. An idea flew into my head and I walked boldly up to where Crinan, Bethoc, and my father were making final arrangements.
‘It would hardly do to have the future Queen of Alba arrive at Dunkeld accompanied by a guard. She would seem incapable. I should ride to Dunkeld on my own horse,’ I insisted.
Crinan raised an eyebrow and Father pursed his lips. Bethoc alone seemed unmoved by my demand.
‘She makes a strong case, Boedhe.’
I regretted then not being more specific. I did not wish to deprive Father of one of his horses and hoped Crinan would force two of the guards to ride together; the thought amused me.
‘I have no horses to spare,’ Father said.
‘She may have one of ours,’ Findlaich acquiesced, unaware of the disapproval in Father’s face.
With that, it was settled.
MacBethad brought over a beautiful brown gelding named Allistor and helped me to mount him. My distress at leaving Burghead was momentarily alleviated as I sat on my new mount. Looking down to share my joy with MacBethad, who had long been privy to my complaints, I noticed he refused to look at me as he strapped a provision bag in place.
‘Aren’t you going to say goodbye?’ I asked.
MacBethad still refused to speak, though I noticed he was taking more time with the halter than was necessary.
‘You have no right to hate me,’ I said.
Hearing the catch in my voice, he looked up, my own conflict between anger and pain mirrored in his face.
‘I don’t hate you,’ he mumbled.
‘I. . .’ I stumbled over the words.
I could feel the weight of his dagger on the belt I wore around my waist, and longed to tell him how deeply I cared for him, how much I would miss him, and how sorry I was in this moment that my destiny carried me away from Burghead, away from him.
But he finished with the halter and walked away.
‘Gruoch,’ Father called, ‘it is time.’
We gathered in front of the inner gate and he gave a parting declaration to Crinan.
‘Today I give over to you the care of my daughter, my eldest born. See that you look after her,’ he said. He was smiling, but the threat was apparent to all.
‘Of course, Boedhe,’ Crinan appeased him.
My father indicated I should bend down for a kiss. I tried to do so as elegantly as possible, but my horse was very large and it was a long way down. As I did so, he slid a small object wrapped in cloth into my lap.
‘I have no use for it, and she would have wanted you to have it,’ he whispered.
‘Yes, Father,’ I said, my heart skipping in anticipation.
‘Look the innocent flower, but be the serpent underneath it.’
I gasped to hear grandmother’s words in my father’s voice. I looked into his eyes and thought I saw something of her whirling in their dark pools.
‘Gruoch?’
‘Grandmother used to say that to me,’ I explained.
My father’s eyes narrowed.
‘In this one thing she was right.’
He stepped back and I straightened, sliding the small parcel into the folds of my cloak. Once all the formalities had been completed, we were off. Crinan and Bethoc led the party while I rode beside Duncan. The inner gate was opened and we processed out of the keep into the settlement.
As soon as I appeared, a thunderous cheer went up from the men and women of Burghead; I nearly fell off my horse. Crinan and Bethoc appeared as startled as I was, then grimaced, but Duncan looked completely crestfallen.
The cheering continued as we struck out across the settlement, and the company followed us and pressed gifts into my bags: bits of carved wood, dried fruit. Though Duncan rode beside me, he received no such attention. I caught him staring at me several times as I received the adoration of my people, his dismay icing over into jealousy.
The people of Burghead followed us out of the final gate and down the hill, stopping only when we reached the bridge and fanning out behind the moat. I craned my neck round, smiling and waving to them for as long as I could. As we struck out down the coast, a chant rang out that followed us for quite some way, carried on the wind.
All hail! All hail! All hail!
Even after we were out of the reach of their voices, I thought I could still hear the cry reverberating through the ground as though Creation itself had joined them. My heart soared and the sun shone brightly as at last I was where I was meant to be.
But then a light mist settled over us, which turned to a steady cold drizzle, and the wetter I became, the more my grandeur dripped from me. The misery of leaving my home soon set in once more, so I tried to speak to Duncan as a distraction. I wanted to get to know the man who would rule beside me, but it seemed that the weather had an equally dampening effect on his eagerness to please.
He sat quietly on his horse, taken up with his own thoughts, and responded to my questions with grudging answers. I tried to make the conversation interesting, speaking of my combat training, but he didn’t care for warfare or fighting tactics. When I asked him about his ancestors, he knew little of them and even less of any glory they may or may not have had. Exasperated, I asked him about Dunkeld.
Only then did he perk up, but he told me nothing about the place, speaking only of the people, and who had recently insulted whom, and whose daughter had been found with whose son. He droned on so that I wished I had not endeavoured to converse in the first place, and my obvious lack of interest in abbey politics soon dried up the conversation. We passed the rest of the journey in dull silence.
*
All I learned about Dunkeld on the journey was that it held the largest abbey in Alba, and that it stood on the great River Tay. No one had warned me that it was a trading town, so when I spotted Norse ships moored in the river as we descended towards the abbey, I was alarmed, thinking Dunkeld was under attack; but Crinan explained with great pride how he had forged solid ties with Norse traders, which had contributed greatly to the wealth of both Dunkeld and the rest of Alba.
The Tay wound its way into a great firth and then to the ocean beyond. Boats came a long way inland, sailing up the broad river, trading their wares all along its banks. Dunkeld was the furthest point inland and boasted a large port where boats could offlay the rest of their goods to be spread throughout the rest of the kingdom.
‘Scone might be the seat of power in Alba, but Dunkeld is the centre of commerce,’ Crinan declared proudly. Bethoc’s mouth twitched and I was sure that she would have preferred the seat of power.
As we passed by the large port, we were greeted by soldiers and religious ministers. When Findlaich returned home, any guards who had been left behind would ride out to join him, and their reunion would be loud and full of laughter as he relayed stories from his travels while we approached the keep. But in Dunkeld there was no rejoicing.
Instead, Crinan’s soldiers immediately relayed information regarding the ships that had come and gone in his absence, while his advisers outlined the various taxes collected from each ship. No sooner had he alighted from his horse than the abbot was presented with a great ledger, which he scanned meticulously. It struck me how Crinan seemed to run Dunkeld much like the commander of a great army. I would have liked to see more of Crinan’s business, but he made his way straight to the port while we continued on our way to the abbey where I would be living until Duncan and I wed.
I had expected it to be hidden by a large timber wall, but as we passed through a thick glade of trees, their long shadows extending before them in the evening light, and out onto a broad expanse of grass, my mouth fell open as I was confronted with an enormous complex made entirely of stone, unprotected in all its majesty.
I was afraid to ride under the great entrance arch, certain it would collapse on me. It seemed impossible that such a weight might stay suspended, but Bethoc and Duncan processed beneath with confidence and I was forced to follow.
As we rode into the first inner courtyard, the sound of horses’ hoofs against the stone cobbles made me jump. Torchlight bathed us and I could make out the faces of our company despite the hour. I had resolved not to let Bethoc see me overawed, but I could not help but gaze up in wonder at the huge edifice as we dismounted.
A woman clothed in strange apparel approached Bethoc. Her hair was hidden beneath a white shawl and she was wearing a thick, dark shift. The two murmured to each other and looked in my direction.
‘Come with me,’ the woman called.
She turned and walked towards one of the many doorways leading into the great abbey, and I followed close behind. Bethoc and Duncan were heading towards a separate part of the building, presumably their own quarters.
‘Am I not to stay with Bethoc?’
‘You may think yourself familiar with her but remember to address Bethoc as Lady Crinan when you are in the presence of others.’
She had not answered my question, and the way she addressed me made me feel uneasy.
I was led through torch-lit halls, the feeling of stone foreign against my leather boots. Where timber walls absorbed the sound of movement, here footsteps echoed along the corridor. People drifted around us like ghosts, speaking in hushed whispers that ricocheted off the walls and sounded more like spectral murmurings from beyond than anything made by flesh. It made my blood curdle, and I dug my nails into my palms.
We ascended a staircase and came to a small wooden door, which led into a modest room. There were two beds: a larger raised one in the centre of the room and a smaller one pressed into a corner. A fire was crackling and the room felt cosy. A large window overlooked the courtyard below. I should have been excited to have such a view of the comings and goings in the abbey, but I was terrified to be so high up.
Fear and fatigue pulled at me in equal measure and I desperately wanted to be rid of the strange woman.
‘This is where you will be staying,’ she was saying. ‘Lady Crinan says you’re free to roam in the morning as long as you stay within the walls. Your education will begin shortly after breakfast. From the stairs, turn left towards the small chapel—’
‘My education?’ I interrupted.
‘Aye. You are to be educated in reading and writing and the Christian language.’
‘The what?’ I asked stupidly. Irritation flickered in the woman’s face.
‘Latin is God’s language.’
She seemed to be speaking a foreign tongue already.
‘I assumed you had. . .’ she began again, but paused. ‘Pray you learn quickly. You must be literate by the time you marry. From the stairs—’
She paused again and studied me, assuming I was either too stupid or too tired to remember her instructions.
‘Sinna will lead you,’ she finished.
Much as I wanted to ask who Sinna was, I wanted more to be left alone.
‘Thank you,’ I mustered, and inclined my head in a show of respect. The woman cocked an eyebrow. Perhaps she had not expected a Northerner to have such manners, and I felt insulted.
‘Sleep well, Your Grace,’ she said, bowing in return.
With that, she left the room and I was alone at last.
Your Grace.
I savoured the words in my mind. Her use of the title dispelled my displeasure with her.
My things had already been brought to the room and stood in one corner waiting to be unpacked. I took off my cloak and added it to the pile.
In that moment, I remembered the package Father had given me. I had not had a chance to open it on the journey. Reaching into the folds of my furs, I pulled out the gift and slowly, carefully, unwrapped it.
I knew the cool metal instantly, the strands of gold familiar beneath my fingers.
My mother’s bracelet.
I slipped it over my wrist and admired the way it shone in the firelight. A vision of my mother’s delicate arms waving erratically as she danced on the shore of my grandmother’s island came to me.
The bracelet felt suddenly heavy and I wanted to be rid of it.
Trying to pull it off, I was alarmed to discover that it was tighter than I had expected. It seemed to constrict my wrist, and in my panic an image of my mother’s ashes chasing me across the sandy beach was nearly enough to make me cry out for help. I forced the bracelet off leaving my fingers raw from the strain.
I collapsed to the floor and wept like a small child. Not for the first time since I had left, my heart ached for Burghead. I pictured Donalda weaving with her maid, Adair listening to Barrach as he spun stories, Father and Findlaich murmuring together. If I closed my eyes, I could picture MacBethad alone out by the stables, wielding his sword in long arcs, carving a circle in the ground with his feet as he fought invisible opponents on all sides.
I could remember his lips on mine, the sensation strange, soft.
My breathing slowed and at last I picked up the bracelet from where it had fallen on the stone floor.
Tempting as it was to throw the band into the fire, it was my only connection to my mother. I withdrew my dagger from where it hung by my side and placed it beside the bracelet on the floor. The sight of bracelet and dagger together, tethering me to Fife and to Burghead, calmed me further.
‘I was born for this,’ I said, grasping at the reassuring truth. ‘Burghead is behind me. It is time to look forward.’
The larger bed was meant for me, but I was used to sleeping on a pile of furs on the floor and afraid I would fall off the high platform. There would be time enough to get used to these things. I slipped out of my thick wool dress, stripping down to my shift before I crawled under a pile of sheepskins and furs and long bolts of cloth. I slid both dagger and bracelet under my pillow and closed my eyes, folding my hands over my chest.
The door creaked open.
I launched myself upright and reached for the hilt of my dagger as a young girl stepped into the room. She must have been my age, but her features were incredibly delicate; one breath would blow her away. Or perhaps it was just the way she bent her head and slumped her shoulders that made her appear so small. She was muttering something I couldn’t hear.
‘Who are you?’ I said, slightly irritated. ‘I can’t hear you.’
‘Sorry, Your Grace,’ the girl spoke up. ‘I’m Sinna. I’ve come to help you to bed.’
I relaxed slightly.
‘I’m in bed, as you can see, but thank you.’
‘Aye. You are.’
She stood there expectantly. I was tired and wanted to sleep.
‘What else?’ I asked.
‘I’m sorry, but you’re meant to sleep in the large bed.’
‘What if I don’t want to?’ I snapped at her, annoyed to have been caught out.
‘Then I’ll sleep on the floor, but I’m not allowed in that bed. It’s for the betrothed.’
‘Why do you have to sleep in here at all?’ I asked.
‘I am your maid.’
Much as I enjoyed the idea of having a maid like Mother and Donalda had, I resented having to sleep on the large bed. We stared at each other for a moment then I sighed and crawled out of bed. I was halfway across the room when I remembered my dagger and bracelet. I lunged back for the sheepskin pillow and folded it around the two items; I didn’t want her to know about them.
‘Well, I want this,’ I said petulantly, clutching the sheepskin closer.
‘Of course, Your Grace.’ Sinna curtsied.
The large bed was surprisingly comfortable, and the covers thicker than any I had slept beneath. I burrowed down into the middle to ensure I would not roll off in the night. Sinna climbed into her own bed. We lay there silently, but I found I was no longer tired.
I sat up.
‘Who are you exactly?’ I asked.
Sinna also sat up, though she looked very much as if she would like to lie back down again.
‘I’m Sinna, Your Grace.’ She smiled pleasantly.
‘I know, but why does my maid have to sleep with me?’
‘I serve at the pleasure of the betrothed, day and night,’ she said.
‘Did you serve the Northumbrian princess?’ I asked, curious about my predecessor.
‘Aye, and before that a girl from Caithness.’
‘Caithness?’ I asked. ‘You mean, I am the third?’
