Page 83 of Highland Queen

Chapter 23

In the days that followed, I did my best to avoid Macbeth. Instead, I made plans to return north. I could still do good for Scotland. I could still make my country strong, but I couldn’t do it at Macbeth’s side. Not only was such a condition miserable, but it was dangerous.

Midafternoon three days later, there was a knock on my door. My guard, Magnus, opened it to reveal one of Macbeth’s messengers.

“Your Majesty,” he said. “Crinian, the Abbott of Dunkeld, is here, but King Macbeth is…indisposed. Will you see the Abbott?”

“Where is Macbeth?”

“He’s unable to attend to state matters at this time.”

I stepped closer to the boy who looked so unnerved that his spirit was about to jump out of its skin.

“What is your name?” I asked the footman.

“Aed, Your Majesty.”

“Aed, please take me to the king.”

The boy nodded then motioned for me to follow him.

Without another word, Magnus fell in line behind us.

The boy led me down the halls of Glamis to the chapel. Inside, I spotted Macbeth before the altar. He was wearing a simple white robe and lying prostrate on the floor.

I suppressed a gasp, but then anger washed up in me.

Now what?

By all the gods, now what?

I entered the chapel, Magnus just behind me. I motioned for him to stay by the door. Moving carefully, I approached Macbeth.

He was lying there, his eyes open wide as he gazed off toward some faraway place. The back of his dressing gown was wet with blood. The fabric had been torn. He had flagellated himself.

“And what are we doing, Macbeth?” I asked.

“Praying,” he whispered.

“Prayer is important, but there is an element of timing to the matter. Crinian is here.”

“You see to him,” Macbeth said absently.

“Very well,” I said then turned to go.

“Gruoch,” Macbeth called weakly.

“What?”

“I’m sorry for what I did.”

I huffed a laugh. “Which thing, Macbeth? Which thing?” I said then stalked away. Leaving the chapel, I entered Macbeth’s meeting chamber located not far away. “Bring Crinian here,” I told Aed.

The boy nodded then rushed off.

I took a seat at Macbeth’s desk. All around the table were notes, most of which I couldn’t read, mad scribbles. Amongst the incomprehensible papers were dispatches with important news. As I waited, I started sorting. From what I could see, Macbeth had left many important matters unattended.

Chains rattled, and a moment later, soldiers led Crinian into the room. I frowned when I saw that he had been roughed up, his lip bloody.

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