Page 11 of Highland Queen

Chapter 4

The next morning, Banquo rode to Inverness, and I made plans to go to Scone. I was busy with my preparations when Tavis appeared.

“Corbie,” he said, smiling nicely at me, but I could see he’d come with something on his mind.

“Good morning,” I said with a smile. “Now, tell me your news.”

He chuckled. “I’m anxious to return south, but I didn’t want to leave you alone here. And Lulach…”

“Lulach is safe.”

Tavis nodded. “You’ll say no more as to where he is? Not even to me?”

“I’ll say… Uald would approve of Lulach’s whereabouts.”

“Ahh,” Tavis mused. “Very well. But what about you, my little raven?”

I grinned at Tavis. “These days, I am hardly anyone’s little anything.”

Tavis grinned at me, and in that smile, I saw a proud, fatherly expression on his face. “You will always be Madelaine’s little raven…which makes you mine as well.”

Rising, I left my work and took Tavis’s hand. “I’m sorry to see you go.”

Tavis nodded then took me gently by the shoulders and kissed my forehead. “You will be an excellent queen, little raven.”

Would I? I hoped so. Since the battle, I’d had no visions, no omens. The Otherworld had gone strangely quiet.

“If it pleases the gods.”

Tavis nodded. “It does. Don’t you see? I should go make ready.”

“Stay safe,” I told him. “There may still be mercenaries in the hills.”

“I will. The hornet nest is stirred up, Little Corbie. You, too, must be watchful.”

“Always.”

Tavis smiled at me then let me go.

Sighing, I sat back down and got to work. All things promised had come to pass. Now, I just had to ride the wave forward toward my destiny.

Later that day, a rider came from Inverness with word from Macbeth. We would ride south the next morning—him and me—and our army. He instructed me to be ready and to bring Lulach.

I stared at the letter.

No.

I would not bring Lulach. I would keep my boy away, keep him safe until it was all settled. That included keeping him away from Macbeth. If he was as unsteady as Banquo had said, then it would be a very long time before Macbeth would see my boy again. At this point, Lulach had already forgotten Macbeth. Growing up at Cawdor, he knew Gillacoemgain’s shade, knew Gillacoemgain as his father. Macbeth had never taken root in Lulach’s heart. And I was glad.

Drafting a quick note, I headed out to the yard to deliver it to the rider. There was nothing to say. I would hear no apologies, no pretty words. I neither wanted nor expected any. I wrote only, “Come. I am ready.”

I sent the rider away and stood in the middle of the yard taking in the sights and sounds of Cawdor.

Overhead, a falcon called.

I looked up, the sunlight making me wince. There, high in the sky over the castle, Gillacoemgain’s bird flew. I caught the sound of Standish’s voice. He was on the other side of the yard talking with the grooms. I went to meet him.

“My lady—no, my queen,” he said with a smile.

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