Highland Queen

Chapter 17

I woke the next morning to the feeling of someone playing with my hair. I opened my eyes to find Crearwy sitting up in bed working on a braid.

“Mother, what happened to your hair?”

“I cut it.”

“Why?”

“Because I wanted to honor the Morrigu before I went into battle.”

“Did you go into battle?”

“Yes.”

“And did you kill many people?”

“A fair few.”

She nodded. “And did you win?”

“Yes.”

“So, now you’re Queen of Scotland?”

“I am.”

“Does that make me a princess?”

It did if anyone knew she existed. “Yes.”

“Well, your hair is too short to braid properly.”

I chuckled. “You sound like my maids.”

“You have maids?”

“Yes, Tira and Rhona. And there is also Morag, who looks after Lulach and Lord Banquo’s son, Fleance.”

“How funny. You have women looking after you like you’re a child.”

“Well…” I began, but then I realized she was right. It was rather ridiculous.

The black puppy, roused by the sound of voices, appeared. She jumped on the bed with us.

Crearwy giggled. “Now, Beauty,” she chided the dog. “Behave.”

“Beauty? That’s what you’ve named her?”

Crearwy nodded. “She thinks she’s the one who is a princess.”

I patted Beauty on her head. “Well, Thora always did think herself important. No wonder her daughter would be the same.”

“Thora? Your dog? Sid told me this puppy was a gift from you, but I wasn’t sure if I should believe her.”

“Always believe Sid.”

Crearwy flexed her brow as she thought about my words. “Druanne looks at Sid like she’s a mad woman.”

“That’s because, for all of Druanne’s wisdom, she cannot see the Otherworld. Sid is not mad.”

“No. I didn’t think so. But I do think she likes to play tricks…for fun.”

“Well, that I can believe.”

“Crearwy?” Epona called from the other room. “Who are you talking to?”

“My mother.”

There was a pause, and I heard the bed creak. A moment later, Epona appeared in the doorway.

“Cerridwen?”

I sat up and looked at Epona. She and Andraste could have been sisters. “Oh, Epona.”

She chuckled lightly. “Yes, I’m sure I’m quite the shock. What are you doing here?”

“Madelaine and I were planning to come, but Tavis is gravely ill. Druanne and Uald have gone to Madelaine’s keep.”

Epona nodded. “Oh. Yes. Well…she will miss him terribly,” she said absently then turned and headed back into the main room. “I’ll make the breakfast.”

I looked at Crearwy who didn’t seem a bit disturbed by Epona’s odd behavior.

“Let me go help,” I said then kissed Crearwy on the forehead.

“All right. I’ll go feed the animals since Uald is gone,” Crearwy said.

“You know how?”

She laughed as though I’d asked a silly question. “Of course.”

“Don’t forget to put on your cloak.”

“Mother.”

I bit the inside of my cheek. They were right. She was every bit as sharp around the edges as they said.

Pushing my hair back, Crearwy’s half-braid falling out, I went to the main room and started banking up the fire.

Moving slowly, Epona began setting out the dishes. “Now, there is Crearwy and me, Juno, Tully, Aridmis, Cerridwen, and…and…and Flidas. I will set a place for Sid. She will come back to see Cerridwen,” she whispered to herself as she worked.

“And May?” I asked.

“May? No. She left a year or so ago.”

“Where did she go?”

“Somewhere west. We had a girl here for a short time, a promising acolyte, daughter of a clan chieftain, but she left. May went with her. Crearwy was grown enough, and May wanted to start a new life.”

“She just…left?”

“Not like that. We all supported her.”

“But how did Crearwy take it?”

“She cried a bit, but all things change,” Epona said.

I frowned. No doubt Crearwy had suffered from the loss. I hated the idea that she’d grieved, and I had not known, had not been here to comfort her.

Once the fire was burning steadily, I opened Epona’s cupboard and had a look. The rations were paltry.

“Epona, do you want me to ask Madelaine to send some supplies?”

“Yes. Yes, that would be fine. Ask Madelaine to get some things for us,” she said then went to the bin where she used to keep the bread. It was empty. Epona gazed at the empty container as if she was confused.

I pulled out some oats and honey. Digging through Epona’s stores, I found a few fresh eggs. I got to work mixing up the batter for breakfast cakes while Epona set out cups.

“Why are you here, Cerridwen?” Epona asked.

“As I said, I came to see Crearwy. But with Tavis ill, I had to fetch Druanne. Unfortunately, that also means I must return very soon. Madelaine will need me.

“And why else?”

I sighed softly. “Epona, I need your guidance.”

“About what?”

“A seer told me I am with child.”

Epona’s gaze narrowed. She looked at my stomach. “And are you with child?”

“I believe so. My courses have not come. And I do feel the quickening in my womb.”

“Macbeth’s or Banquo’s child?”

“Banquo’s, of course. What should I do?”

Epona stared at me, her eyes looking misty. She sighed. “I’m sorry, Cerridwen. I cannot say. The sight has left me.”

Her words struck me to my core. “But Epona, Crearwy is far too young to be the leader of this coven. Why have you let go so soon? Crearwy is not ready.”

“I was letting go a little at a time. And then one morning, I woke up and my magic was gone,” she said, opening her hands.

“Gone?”

“Just like that. No visions. No glamour. No anything. Now there is only my mind and my hands. They will have to be enough to serve me in the days ahead.”

“But what will we do?”

“Uald is ready to lead this place until Crearwy is of age. The others know the way.”

“I love Uald, but she is not like you. The gods don’t speak to her as they speak to you.”

Epona laughed. There was bitterness in her voice that I’d never heard before. “The gods don’t speak to me anymore. As for your unborn child, I don’t know. And I am sorry for it. I never saw you with another child in my visions.”

“Epona, I have something else to ask.”

“Hmm?”

“The night I came here after…after what happened. You saw that I would bear two children. But did you see, clearly and for certain, that Duncan was their father? Please. Try to remember.”

Epona sat down. She tapped her fingers on the table as she looked into the fire. “That night was so strange. Full of omens. Before you returned, the skies raged. Wolves howled. The owls and ravens shrieked. But the vision…” she said, squinting as she looked into the flames. “I saw two children. Clearly. And I knew that your daughter would come here. She had to. I saw Crearwy grow in this place. I saw her make things right for us again. I saw you carrying twins.”

“But then? Right then? Was I with child at that moment?”

“At that moment…”

“Epona, I did as you advised me. I took Gillacoemgain to bed at once. Crearwy looks so much like Gillacoemgain’s sister. And Lulach’s smile… Is it possible the visions you had—the visions I had—were confused? Deluded? Is it possible that Lulach and Crearwy really are Gillacoemgain’s children?”

Epona sat back and sighed. “The gods play games. They move us as they wish, and then leave us blind as they wish. What did Andraste say?”

“That they were Duncan’s children.”

“And how many hard choices did you make based on her words?”

My life. My whole life had been set into motion based on those words. “Many.”

“The gods move us, Cerridwen. Andraste, she has become like them. Perhaps she is a goddess now, I cannot say. The magic she uses is beyond my understanding,” she said then shook her head. “But I have never cared for her meddling. Nor for her, to be honest.”

“Then it is possible that they are Gillacoemgain’s children after all? Is that what you’re saying?”

“My visions were no more exact than your own. I cannot say for sure Duncan was the father. I saw children. I saw you round with twins. But the father…”

My knees felt weak. I sat down.

“You must ask Andraste. That secret, black, and midnight hag. You must convince her to tell the truth. After all, it’s done.”

“What’s done?”

“The deed without a name.”

I was about to ask Epona what she meant when the door opened to reveal Juno, whom I had met only once before, and two women I did not know.

I rose.

“Cerridwen,” Juno said with a smile. “Many welcome returns.”

“By all the gods, this is Cerridwen?” the older of the two women asked.

Epona laughed lightly. “Cerridwen, this is Tully.”

I smiled at the woman. She had long, pale blonde hair streaked with grey. Like Uald, she wore trousers and a tunic. Her skin was tanned and weathered, a testament to her days on the road.

“I’m so pleased to finally meet you,” I said, moving to embrace her. All these years, I had heard tale after tale of the mysterious Tully who wandered the country looking for new recruits, following wherever the Goddess led, traveling to each of her sacred groves.

“Your timing is auspicious. I am about to travel north, now that our new rulers have things quieted down,” she said with a wink.

Epona chuckled lightly. “Cerridwen, this is Flidas,” she said, introducing a girl with long, brown hair standing behind Tully. At once, I noticed the girl bore a tattoo on her brow that was not unlike Banquo’s.

“Sister,” I said, inclining my head to her.

“Flidas is called by the nature spirits, creatures of the wood. Her mother is the leader of another coven,” Epona explained.

“It’s good to meet you, Cerridwen. You are much spoken of here. And well-loved.”

I smiled at her, feeling uneasy under the sharpness of her gaze. It was almost as if she was seeing through me to someone or something else. “I’m pleased to meet you as well.”

Flidas smiled at me.

“I was about to make breakfast,” I said, picking up my bowl once more. Turning to the fire, I lifted the pan and began ladling cakes thereon.

“Epona, let us finish your work,” Juno said, taking the water pitcher from Epona’s hand.

Epona relinquished her work without complaint then sat on a stool before the fire. She watched me work. The other women went into the kitchen of the house, chatting busily.

“The other covens,” I said to Epona. “I am in a position to do more. To help. It would be helpful to know where—quite literally—I can be of use.”

“Balor,” Epona said. “Speak with Balor. I do not have the say I once had.”

“Perhaps not, but I think you must still have some influence,” I said, casting a glance at Flidas.

Epona chuckled. “A raven’s eyes miss nothing.”

I grinned but said no more.

Aridmis returned not long after, Crearwy along with her.

Once my cakes were made—and I felt rather proud of myself that I had managed not to burn any—everyone sat down to eat. Once more, I sat at the table with my sisters. I hadn’t been Queen of Scotland for a week, but in Epona’s home, I felt more at ease than I had in some time. But the starkness of the meal wasn’t lost on me. While the offerings at the coven had always been humble, they had never been meager. As I looked at the others, I realized Aridmis looked far thinner than I remembered. Worries bubbled up in me.

Crearwy sat beside me, Beauty squeezing into the small space between us. Much like Thora, Beauty waited for scraps, but she was far more elegant in her manner. Lifting her paw, she gently nudged Crearwy. Crearwy fed bits of bread and dried meat to her dog. Beauty ate cleanly, not dropping a bite. If I had not already been sure of her lineage, Beauty’s outstanding ability to win bits of food certainly would have convinced me Thora was her dame. Yet Beauty’s manner was far more refined than Thora’s. Where Thora would chomp and slobber, Beauty waited politely and ate cleanly. Crearwy had picked a good name for her dog.

The others chatted as they ate. I kept quiet, watching Crearwy as she interacted with the women. My sisters treated my daughter well, but Flidas’ eyes missed nothing. And I did not miss hers. I sensed no malice in the girl, but there was magic at work within her. When the meal was done, Crearwy took my hand. “Come, Mother. We have work we must attend to. The others will help Epona.”

“What work, my love?”

“You’ll see,” she said.

I looked at Epona who nodded. Crearwy led me out of the house and across the square to Sid’s home. We opened the door to find the place dark and dusty.

“You tend the fire. I’ll remake the bed,” Crearwy told me.

“Is Sid coming?”

“That’s what Nadia said.”

“Nadia?”

Crearwy nodded. “She came to me when I was feeding the horses. I told her you were here. She left to get Sid.”

“So you see her…always?”

“Only when she wants to be seen.”

“You were born in this room,” I told Crearwy.

“So they tell me. I’ve seen this room, Epona’s house, Aridmis’ house—all the little houses—the barn, the smithy, and the forest. My world,” she said, a bitter tone in her voice. “They tell me Madelaine has castles. And my mother has a kingdom. I have the coven.”

“Crearwy,” I said, stopping to look at her. “You must understand…I mean, I am certain Epona has explained…”

“That I’m here for my own safety? Yes, I understand. My brother Lulach will become king, and I will rule the trees.”

I stared at her, shocked to hear such a harsh tone in her young voice.

“Things are not easy for women at court. Here, you are free. You can live any life you please. I’ve given you a free life. You can choose any life you want.”

“Any life?” she asked.

“Well…I mean…”

“Hmm,” Crearwy mused then opened the door. Carrying a blanket with her, she went outside and shook out the linen.

I turned back to the fire. Rattled by Crearwy’s dark words, I nearly burned my fingers on the flames when I set a log in the hearth. I pulled my hands back only to see the spots of blood thereon once more.

Sitting back, I looked into the fireplace. Flames flickered to life.

Outside, I heard Crearwy snapping dust from the linens. I lifted my hands and looked at them. I had murdered my cousin. I had married the man who killed my husband. I had forsaken my druid for Lulach’s sake. I had left my daughter behind, a daughter who appeared to resent my choice. And if she disliked it now, how much she might grow to hate me in the future? I had done all these things because I’d believed Andraste’s words.

I stared into the flames.

“Andraste,” I called sharply.

The fire crackled.

“Andraste.”

The flame flickered, and a moment later, a window opened to Ynes Verleath. There, I found Nimue.

“Where is Andraste?” I asked.

“Hail Queen.”

“Nimue, where is Andraste?”

Nimue shook her head.

“She is a coward. Tell her I will have the truth from her, one way or another.”

Nimue nodded. The expression on her face suggested that she was not in disagreement with my anger.

“Nimue, do you know the truth? Do you know the answer to the question I want to ask?”

“And what is your question?”

“Is Gillacoemgain Lulach and Crearwy’s true father?”

“I only know what you know. I see only what you see, Cerridwen.”

“And what is it that you see?”

“I see what you see,” she said with a soft smile and then the vision faded.

I sat back and ruminated on her words. Did she mean that her vision was blocked the same as mine, or did she mean that she and I saw the same thing—that Andraste had lied? That Gillacoemgain was their father. Was she trying to tell me that what I was realizing was true?

“You riddle, Nimue. Shame on you,” I whispered to the flames.

A moment later, Crearwy returned. She lay the blanket on the bed.

“Daughter, please come to me,” I whispered.

I could tell from the expression on her face that she was still unsettled, but she came all the same.

I wrapped my arms around her, pressing my head against her soft belly. How sweet she was, soft and warm with skin as smooth as butter. I sighed heavily.

“What is it, Mother?”

“If I have failed you, I am sorry. I did what I thought best for you. I may have been misled.”

Crearwy patted my head. “Then don’t be misled again. I’ll go get some water now.” Pulling from my grasp, she snatched two pitchers from the table and headed out the door.

I rose slowly, feeling dizzy as I did so. I set my hand on my stomach.

“Easy,” I whispered.

“Cerridwen?” a voice called from the door.

I turned to find Flidas there.

“I’m sorry. I don’t mean to disturb you, but I’ve seen something that confuses me.”

“What is it?”

“I’ve seen you at my mother’s grove. In my visions. Have you been there?”

“I…No.”

She nodded slowly. “No. You’re right. Your hair was different in my vision. I’m sorry. I was hoping you had news of my mother. I haven’t seen her in some time.”

“I’m sorry, no.”

She looked around the room. “I’m very fond of Sid. Will she be here soon?”

“I believe so.”

“Good,” she said then smiled happily. “It’s hard to find such honest souls. Again, I’m sorry to bother you,” she said then turned and left.

Flidas’ manner unnerved me, but she was right about one thing. I turned and gazed at the flames. Honest souls were in short supply.