Lady macbethad, p.29
Lady MacBethad, page 29
He said it with such authority that I would have laughed if I had not felt my throat closing in panic, my lungs collapsing in on themselves.
‘Let’s return,’ he said. ‘We will be expected at supper and I have much to put in motion.’
Duncan offered me his hand, but with Lulach in my arms I couldn’t take it. He smiled thinly, annoyed to have been denied another opportunity to feel gallant.
‘Take Sinna to the servants’ quarters,’ he addressed his guard. ‘Gruoch will call her if she needs to.’
I was about to protest when Sinna dropped a curtsy.
‘Of course, my lord,’ she replied meekly. ‘But perhaps Lulach would like to play with the other children. Might I accompany him?’
An automatic objection rose to my lips, unwilling to let Lulach out of my sight while our future hung in the balance. I clung to him tighter, but as Sinna glanced at me I realised the sense in her suggestion. Were she and my son allowed to move about the fortress, they might manage to escape without me if the need arose. Much as I longed to have Lulach with me, he would buckle under the confinement of our chamber.
I looked to Duncan who waited for my decision.
‘If it please Your Grace,’ I said, my mouth dry.
He nodded curtly and I handed Lulach over to Sinna.
‘Stay with them,’ I instructed Bram. ‘And if any harm comes to them it will be on your head.’
Rather than being alarmed by my warning he nodded, his expression serious. As Sinna led Lulach away, I willed my son to turn around so I might see his face once more, but he was chattering away, no doubt relieved to be leaving behind the tensions his tiny mind could feel but not grasp.
Without Lulach to protect me from Duncan’s attentions, I had no choice but to take his proffered arm and allow him to lead me through the halls back to my chamber. Moving like a spectre at his side, I tried to distance my mind as far from the halls of Scone as possible. I willed myself to imagine the little river where Lulach and I had played just two weeks before. Instead of escape or comfort, the memory brought pain as I remembered those fantasies about my growing domain, my father and Adair reunited with me, the crown in my sights.
When we finally arrived back in the room I had fled from just a short while ago, Duncan hovered in the doorway, showing the first signs of hesitation, unsure how to behave in my muted presence.
‘You will thank me in time,’ he repeated, more for his own benefit than mine, before closing the door. I heard a mumbled command to a guard to let no one in or out.
I was a prisoner.
I stood where Duncan had left me, unable to move my legs. Sweat beaded on my forehead, but I couldn’t lift my arms to remove the cloak that still hung about my shoulders. Hours, minutes, seconds passed, but still my mind refused to guide my body to a chair, to the bed, engaged only in turning over the events of the last hour in cyclical horror.
One hour.
That was all the time it had taken to strip everything from me.
My legs began to shake and I stumbled to the window, throwing it open. The air was oppressive. I leaned on the sill, helpless as the strength drained from my limbs. I looked at the ground swimming far below me.
How easy it would be to surrender to an endless fall.
My fingers shook as I undid the gold clasps of which I had been so proud. The cloak pooled at my feet, but as I tried to lift myself onto the ledge my dress weighed me down.
I stuck my head out of the window, then my shoulders. I leaned out, allowing my weight to carry me forward.
‘NO!’
My own voice shrieked in warning.
Rational thought came crashing back in as my mind rushed to my defence.
With a great effort, I pushed myself away from the ledge, falling back onto the floor. My lungs heaved as I sucked in air greedily, as if I had been trapped underwater.
‘No.’
I spoke aloud again, summoning conviction. I would not give them that satisfaction. If they wanted me dead, they would have to kill me themselves.
Strength returned to my legs and I paced around like a wild animal, furious that I should have been driven to seek such an end. I had crawled my way back from worse fates. But even though my mind had cleared, I could not see a way forward.
‘Grandmother. . .’
My voice trailed off, the accusation unformed on my lips.
Grandmother.
I pictured her silver hair spilling over the tapestries she used to weave, and the thought calmed me.
‘You have led me here. Show me what to do,’ I demanded.
Closing my eyes, I breathed deeply and thought back to that night. Willing myself to remember in detail all that had passed. My mother’s wild dancing as she prayed for a son, the mugwort passed between the daughters of druids, the shadows dancing across the water, and the dark pools of my grandmother’s eyes.
You will be greatest of us all. Your fame will spread through all of Alba and into England. All the land your feet can touch and your eyes can see is yours, and you belong to it.
My eyes snapped open. The words seemed to be coming from the stone walls that surrounded me. As my grandmother’s prophecy filled my mind, I half-expected to turn around and find her perched on the bed behind me.
You will be so much more. You will be immortalised.
The memory stayed with me, indisputable in its clarity.
‘I cannot marry Duncan.’
You speak of marriage when I am offering you glory and a legacy that will never die.
‘How?’ I demanded.
You must survive. Of all of us, you must survive.
Riddles. Always riddles. How did Grandmother expect me to survive this? Who could be more powerful than a queen?
As Duncan’s mistress, it was true, I would be able to work my way into his life, make myself indispensable to him. In time, I might even become queen. But over what? A crowd of undiscerning, idiotic nobles? The truth of it was that Scone meant nothing to me. I could not have true power here.
But Burghead. . .
The land of my ancestors, the heart of the Picti kingdom.
I looked out at the hills of Scone. A new idea, yet ancient as the land we stood on, filled my mind.
Scone was mighty, but Burghead could be greater. With its position in the North – its access to trade, the resources of land and sea, the protection afforded by the northern mountains – I could fashion Moray into a great kingdom without plotting, or scheming, or whoring myself to anyone. I had thought the gods had turned against me, but again and again they had tried to point me back to Burghead, to my true purpose. Only now had I discovered their meaning.
The restoration of the Picts.
Queen of the Northern Kingdom.
The thought of it sent shivers up my spine and I felt the familiar thrum of power in my chest, just as I had when Grandmother had prophesied over me as a child.
And if the gods had been pointing me back to Burghead, there could be other avenues to explore, allies to be made where I had expected to find enemies.
I splashed cold water on my face. I rubbed my neck and hands with lavender oil, breathing in the heavy scent and allowing the richness of it to envelop me.
I returned to my glass and rearranged my hair as beautifully as I could, not in plaits, as was the custom for the other women of court, but in long auburn waves cascading down my back.
I would attract attention, to be sure, which was exactly what I needed. I pulled at my black dress, awed that we had buried King Malcolm only that morning. Once again, I admired the way the dress enhanced my frame, the high black collar contrasting with the pallor of my face. I hung my dagger in its place on my belt and walked to the window to wait for my summons, tired but ready.
The light was dying, leaving large purple and orange gashes across the sky. A cool, soft wind blew at my face, calming the redness of my cheeks and fanning my determination. If this final plot failed, I would throw myself from the walls of Scone and be done with it. But were I to succeed in it, I knew with certainty that my ascent would be even higher than I had dreamt.
A tap finally came at my door.
‘Come in,’ I said, wishing Duncan to see me silhouetted against the evening sky.
The door was pushed open, revealing the heir-elect’s familiar frame, his face clearly lit by the dying light. He stood there hesitantly, unwilling to come inside. Perhaps it was his way of insisting I come to him freely. After lingering a moment, I walked across the room and took his arm before he had a chance to offer it. I placed my fingers delicately on his shoulder.
‘A change of heart?’ Duncan asked, his own hubris preventing him from seeing any treachery.
‘An acceptance of what I must do,’ I said, staring into his eyes, parting my lips. Duncan swallowed as he stared at my mouth. I thought he might try to kiss me, but he only cleared his throat and led me through the castle into the great feasting hall.
As we entered all eyes turned towards us. Duncan made his rounds as he had the night before with Suthan by his side, exchanging words with a few thanes. I searched the crowd for Sinna. She was seated beside Lulach, who played contentedly with the other children, his joy a sweet relief.
Next, I sought Bethoc and Crinan, wanting to see their dismay as I walked arm in arm with their son, but it was MacBethad who drew my gaze, seated in the place of honour at Duncan’s right – where Gillecomghain should have been.
He was staring ahead with thinly veiled contempt, though I could not be sure at whom it was aimed. My resolve faltered. I was daunted by what I must overcome.
Duncan and I took our places and the feasting began. I ate what was placed before me, though I do not recall what it tasted like. I remained silent the whole evening, afraid that my voice might betray my innermost thoughts.
Hoping that Duncan would eventually feel confident enough of my affection to leave my side and join the nobles – I knew he longed to be among them – I found several occasions to place my hand on his arm possessively and whisper in his ear. He looked at me at first with mild suspicion, but I always met it with open amiability, and as the night drew on he relaxed, convinced that he had won me over, as he did everyone.
When I was sure he was merry enough, I spoke low so no one could hear us.
‘I heard the Thane of Cawdor boast of how he killed the great stag that now hangs in the meeting hall.’
‘I can assure you, the Thane of Cawdor did nothing to assist me in the killing of that beast,’ Duncan replied, his eyes narrowing slightly.
I knew that as well as I had heard him boast of it the day before.
‘He insists it was he.’
Duncan’s insecurity since MacBethad’s arrival made him sensitive to goading, but it was a gamble all the same.
‘I shall correct his falsehood!’
He rose and with courtly grace approached the Thane of Cawdor. Duncan was all smiles and charm as he spoke to the noble and his fellow thanes, no doubt reminding them of how he had stalked the stag and cornered it in a thicket.
I had only moments to act undetected but froze, afraid that MacBethad might turn me over to Duncan the moment I unveiled my plot to him. I searched his face while he sat only an arm’s length away, seeking some sign that my endeavour would be successful.
But he avoided my gaze. A crash rang out at the end of the hall as a noble rose, too drunk, and fell over before the assembly. All eyes turned that way and I knew I would not have a better opportunity.
Reaching down to my side, I quickly pulled out my dagger. MacBethad caught the glint of steel and his hand flew to his own blade. I quickly laid my weapon on Duncan’s chair. When MacBethad saw what it was, he looked up at me, his eyes filled with surprise.
‘I have kept it with me always,’ I said. Duncan had resumed speaking to the Thane of Cawdor, but already he was looking back at us. He grimaced as he saw me conversing with MacBethad.
‘Find me. Tonight. I have something I need to discuss with you,’ I said, standing as I spoke.
‘And if I do not want to discuss anything with you?’
‘Then come to return my dagger. It is very special to me, and I do not wish to be long without it.’
With that, I abandoned the high table, leaving the blade on the chair and desperately hoping that MacBethad would pick it up. Just before I escaped, Duncan intercepted me, grabbing my arm.
‘What was that you were discussing with MacBethad?’
‘Nothing,’ I said, placing my hand delicately on his arm. My touch did not go unnoticed. ‘I spilled some wine.’
‘Ah,’ he said. ‘And where are you going now?’
‘My fortunes have fallen and risen in a single day and I am tired,’ I said. ‘With Your Grace’s permission, I wish to retire.’
Duncan did not look convinced. Trusting my instincts, I reached up and placed a kiss on his cheek. The action drew several eyes, but his was the only reaction I cared for.
‘Tomorrow we will move you into chambers closer to mine,’ he said, the bait swallowed. I nodded and hurried out of the hall.
As I walked down the corridor, I heard soft footsteps behind me. They were too soft to be MacBethad’s. Hoping it might be Sinna, I slowed my pace. Pausing, I glanced over my shoulder to find that Ardith had followed me out. I turned on my heel but she arrested my movement, grabbing my arm.
‘What do you want, Ardith?’
‘You’ve taken my advice.’
‘Have I?’
‘I saw you with Duncan tonight,’ she replied. ‘You plan to draw him from Suthan.’
I let the silence hang between us, allowing it to confirm her assumptions.
‘Do you plan to stop me?’
‘That very much depends.’
‘What do you want?’ I asked again.
Ardith pursed her lips. She no doubt wanted to draw out this moment of imagined power she held over me, but I didn’t have time for her games. I wrenched my arm away, but she followed me down the hall.
‘I want a seat in Scone. I want to be made part of your council.’
‘You think Duncan will allow me a council?’
‘I can tell you what words to say, what promises to make, to persuade him.’
Always manipulation with Ardith. Always pressure points and weaknesses. I should never have goaded her, but I had not been wrong to think that abbey life was not enough for her. By giving her a taste of a position even higher than that in Dunkeld, I had inadvertently bound her to me.
‘And if I say no?’
‘Then I will ensure you do not succeed.’
Very well. I did not wish to win Duncan anyway, so nothing would be lost. Still, I did not like her to think she had such a hold on me.
‘You would struggle to poison Duncan’s affection for me.’
‘I might. But Bethoc would not.’
I froze.
Ardith might want to use me for her own gain, but Bethoc would want to destroy me. If Ardith told her I planned to seduce her son, there was no telling the lengths she would go to stop me. She might throw me out in the dead of night or accuse me of some treachery worthy of execution.
‘I will give you what you want.’
Ardith nodded, content to have won.
‘Why did you change your mind about Duncan?’
‘Gillecomghain is gone. And. . .’
I thought of telling her about his inclinations, but did not want to give her any more ammunition with which she could poison my reputation. A different tack, a more powerful appeal, would hold her at my side, I calculated.
‘You were right. I knew you were when you came to my room last night, but it pained me to see you after all these years, so I lashed out. Betraying you was the worst thing I have ever done, and I have regretted it every day since. I am sorry. Truly sorry.’
Ardith fought back some secret emotion before taking my arm in hers, a gesture I was not prepared for. I had expected her to see through my half-truth and narrow her eyes in suspicion, press me further for details. But she accepted my apology with ease – even after all these years apart, she did not doubt the sway she had over me.
As we bid goodbye, I noticed a flash of gold sparkling on her wrist. She caught me staring and smiled, pulling up her sleeve. My mother’s bracelet. I gasped and touched the cold metal, my hand brushing Ardith’s skin.
‘I have kept it with me always.’
The delicate band fitted her as it never had me.
‘Ardith,’ I began, but a noise at the end of the hall made both of us start. MacBethad was approaching, warily noting the way we murmured together.
‘Shall I take care of him?’ she offered.
‘No,’ I said. ‘Let me. Duncan and I may need him to rid us of Gillecomghain.’
Another half-truth.
‘You think you can win him to your cause?’
‘I pray to the gods I can,’ I replied, being honest for the first time. ‘Would you keep Duncan away?’ I added as an after-thought, my words rushing over themselves. ‘I alone can convince MacBethad – I don’t believe he would do anything if he knew Duncan wished it. And I cannot have the prince misunderstanding MacBethad’s presence in my room. He has inherited his grandfather’s paranoia.’
‘Of course,’ Ardith said. ‘Very wise.’ She squeezed my hand in approval and hurried past MacBethad as though she did not see him. I ushered him into my room before he could ask any questions, closing the door behind us.
A fire had been lit in my absence and the room was warmer than I would have liked. MacBethad stood in front of the closed door, arms crossed in front of his chest, on guard.
‘Would you like to sit?’ I asked, motioning to the chairs before the fire.
‘No.’
‘I’m afraid I cannot offer you refreshment,’ I said, trying to make light of the conversation, desperate for time to allow my heart beat to return to normal.
‘What do you want, Gruoch?’
Hearing him speak my name restored my sense of calm. I knew this man. For all that had passed in our years apart, I knew him to be thoughtful, serious, excellent with a sword, loyal to a fault.
‘I believe we may have a shared interest,’ I began, weighing my words, forcing myself not to shift on my feet but to remain still, steady, calm.
