Page 7 of Highland Queen

He motioned for me to follow him. We made our way out of the castle and back across the yard—which was still bustling with people—toward the stables.

“Thora, your bonnie lass, disappeared out the gate and into the fields right after you returned. She just came back…leading that one,” Standish said, pointing.

I followed his gaze to see a groom guiding Kelpie, who was limping badly, to the water trough.

“Kelpie,” I called, rushing to him.

At the sound of his name, the old stallion turned and nickered at me.

I rushed to him. But even from a distance, I could see the terrible wound on his leg.

“He’s taken a bad injury, my lady. Looks like something caught his leg. A sword, maybe. I’m going to clean and dress his wound now. He… There is a lot of damage, my lady.”

I stroked Kelpie’s ear. “I’m going to have a look now,” I told him.

Kelpie had lifted his hoof, holding his leg up. There was damage to the ligament. He would recover from the injury, that was evident, but he could never be ridden again.

The groom caught my eye. The expression on his face told me he’d already come to the same assessment.

“Treat it as best you can. We must keep the wound clean, let it heal as best it will. Do you need medicines?”

“No, my lady, we are well stocked to deal with such wounds. But some say that when a horse’s leg is too badly—”

I raised my hand to stop him. “No. He will be lame, I understand. I’ll not reward him for a lifetime of service and friendship in that manner. Oats and pasture. That will be his future.”

The groom breathed a sigh of relief. “I hoped you’d say as much.”

I pressed my head against Kelpie’s neck, wrapping my arms around him. “I’m sorry, old friend.”

Kelpie neighed softly at me.

I patted Kelpie once more then turned to look at Thora who was sitting nearby. I bent to take her face into my hands, ruffling her ears. “My good girl. What would I ever do without you? Why don’t you head to the kitchen and see what scraps you can win. You’ve earned them.”

Thora thumped her tail, licked my face, then turned and trotted off to the kitchens.

Willful, magical, and wonderful dog.

“Rest and heal, old friend,” I told Kelpie. I patted his neck once more then nodded to the groom who took Kelpie by the lead and coaxed him toward the stable.

Watching them go, I sighed. I then turned my attention to the yard. A tent had been erected along the east wall. There, the wounded men were receiving care for their injuries. Even from this distance, I could hear their groans.

We had won, but it had come at a cost.

Now, we had to make good on everyone’s sacrifice.

Rather than heading back inside, I climbed the rampart and looked out over the army encamped there. Dusk had come once more. As far as I looked, I saw the light of campfires. Like fireflies in a summer field, the soldiers’ fires illuminated the landscape.

I closed my eyes.

Everything the Morrigu predicted had come to pass.

Duncan was dead.

Macbeth would become king.

I would be queen alongside him.

I should have felt happy, excited.

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