Queen Hereafter, page 23
And a lover, to make that duty more bearable.
I dared not voice such a thing after his threat. But for all his protestations of familial honor, were anything to happen to his lover, the burden of his grief would crush him. Despite all I had achieved, my life still hung in the balance.
* * *
One of the most comforting things about Lulach was how much he resembled Adair. He had my brother’s blue eyes and wispy blond hair, inherited from my father, that I was sure would grow into thick curls. Like Adair, he cried for only the first few days after his birth and then was quiet. It felt as though my brother was with me again. I missed him desperately. It pained me not to send a messenger to him with news of his nephew’s arrival, but now, even more than before, I could not risk MacBethad learning of Gillecomghain’s position and coming to take back Burghead—if he did not already know. I resigned myself to hoping Adair was well, wherever he was, and praying for the day we would be reunited.
I kept expecting to hear news of the discovery of Mael Colum’s body, but days went by with no word. Why had no one come from Burghead to say he had never returned? Why had his body not yet been found?
A childish nightmare seized me, and I wondered if he had managed to come back from the dead. There were Picti tales of such feats, usually spurred on by the gods. While I had clung naively to the hope that any gods who had not been scared off by the new religion were on my side, based on all that had been done to me, I would not have been surprised to learn of a few that wished to destroy me.
But at last Gillecomghain broke the news. I had insisted that we all eat together that evening. Continuing to uphold the charade of our happy marriage, he agreed. But it was a muted affair, any trace of amity between us lost since Lulach’s birth.
“We are moving to Burghead,” my husband said, speaking into the thick silence that had settled over supper.
“Oh?” I said, my heart quickening. “Mael Colum wishes us to live with him?”
“My brother is dead.”
“How?” I asked, widening my eyes in feigned ignorance.
“We don’t know.”
My husband betrayed nothing of what he felt, instead studying me as closely as I studied him.
“He was found outside Elgin,” Gillecomghain continued.
“Really?” I said, not needing to feign surprise. I had lured Mael Colum deep into the woods but we had not gone as far as Elgin. “I did not think he had any enemies there.”
“He may not have died there. He appeared to have been stabbed and then his body was dragged away by an animal of some kind.”
“Ah,” I said, hiding my relief behind a mouthful of bread.
“You do not sound surprised.”
“And you do not sound mournful.”
Gillecomghain laughed, low and throaty, and I could not conceal my shock. My open astonishment made him laugh all the more.
“A little honesty. That was all I wanted from you.”
“Then you are happy . . . ?”
I knew Gillecomghain had lived in perpetual fear of his brother, but I would not have expected him to rejoice at his death.
“No,” he said, a deep frown returning to his brow. “It was a horrible way to die. Mael Colum did not deserve that.”
I tried not to choke on my soup. He deserved it, I thought, and a good deal more.
“But I admit, I am relieved,” Gillecomghain said.
His smile was so dazzling, I was overcome anew by his beauty and my heart was pained that I could not take him for a lover.
“When do we leave?” I asked.
“I am to leave tomorrow,” he said. “You may come when you are ready.”
“I will go with you,” I said, thrilled to put Mael Colum behind me and return to Burghead as its lady.
“Surely you need to rest.”
“I am rested enough.”
It was true. I had slept surprisingly well since Lulach had been born, or perhaps since Mael Colum had been killed—the two events inextricably linked in my mind.
Gillecomghain shrugged. He saw no reason to keep me here.
We left the next morning. The day was warm and glorious, the sea breeze blowing in from the firth to keep us cool as we rode to Burghead. An incredible lightness filled my heart. I was free from the tyranny of Mael Colum. Gillecomghain was now the only Mormaer of Moray, his power in Alba second only to the king’s, and I had a son who might one day restore the line of the great King Coinneach. I had corrected the course of my life and was once more following the destiny promised me.
For the first time since fleeing Scone, I was able to hope without qualification that my grandmother’s prophecy was just that—an inevitable path to greatness. The crown, though still a distant prize, was no longer inaccessible. I felt guilty that I had doubted her, and I hoped, wherever she was, in this life or the next, she had not sensed it.
We arrived in Burghead around suppertime and found the settlement nearly deserted. The mercenaries who had served Mael Colum had all left, knowing Gillecomghain would not employ them. The servants had fled, taking what provisions they could. Only those who came with us from Inverness were there to assist us.
I walked around the settlement with Lulach on my hip, dismayed to find Burghead in greater disarray than I had expected. News of Mael Colum’s death had emboldened some to loot the inner fortress. Only a few homes had been rebuilt after the fire, and though Mael Colum had kept the grounds in relative order, I found myself choked with emotion by how bare and empty it all seemed—so different from the lively, bustling place I had left behind.
There was much to be done.
The following day, Gillecomghain insisted it was of the utmost importance that he ride to Elgin, the next settlement along, to alert them of our arrival. I thought it would be best to wait until morning, but he wanted to ensure that no one came to attack us in the night.
He took only one guard with him, though I warned him to take more. While Gillecomghain thought his lack of ambition made him less threatening, I knew it would only be seen as a vulnerability to be exploited.
I need not have worried. The man Gillecomghain chose to accompany him was well-built with sandy freckled skin. His great chest resembled a barrel, but his legs had a quickness that would be advantageous in combat. Perhaps I could find some private use for him once we were established here.
“Tell the men of Elgin if they wish to help in the restoration of Burghead, they will be provided with food and drink for their efforts,” I shouted after him.
As Gillecomghain rode off, we set about moving into the dwellings Mael Colum had erected in place of those he had burned. I assigned servants to clean out two of the larger halls. I gave Gillecomghain the one at the back, choosing the smaller dwelling that lay closer to the entrance of the keep for myself. I wanted to stay apprised of all the comings and goings, especially his.
I was pleased by the efficiency with which the servants tidied, sweeping out the debris and bringing in new hay and wood to light a small fire for us when the night grew cold. Those who had not already found employment, mostly men and children, I set to cleaning out the stables after leading the horses out to graze.
Instructing the guards to set to rights the armory, I also encouraged them to decide amongst themselves the ordering of the barracks in the settlement below. Most complied, but to the few who gave grunted replies, annoyed that they should be commanded by me, I gave the freedom to leave and try to make their own way as farmers.
I surveyed my work, Lulach in his favorite place on my hip, and a great sense of satisfaction rolled over me. The ease with which authority came to me was surely proof of higher command ahead.
When Gillecomghain returned late that evening, he barely nodded in my direction before disappearing into his quarters. I tried not to let disappointment taint all we had achieved, but was further discouraged when we received no help from Elgin the following day. Gillecomghain spent a week travelling around Moray with his guard, visiting the various settlements, but no one came to our aid. One evening, when he returned looking particularly flushed, I began to have my doubts about the efficacy of his touring and the nature of the relationship with his guard.
I sent Bram, a young guard who had proved himself to be particularly useful in ordering the barracks, to Elgin the next morning after Gillecomghain had left and was rewarded when he returned with ten men. I asked if Gillecomghain had visited them days before, and when they shook their heads, my suspicions were confirmed—the freckled guard was his new lover. What a shame.
I tried to confront Gillecomghain about the matter when he returned in the evening, but he only became flustered and dodged my questions.
“We’ve wasted six days here striving on our own. You could have told me what you were doing and I would have sent the messengers myself.”
“You would have granted me permission, would you?”
“What power do I have over you that I might keep you from doing as you please?”
Even as I asked the question, I realized the power I had. The same power that his brother had used against him. But I was not Mael Colum. I did not have his brute strength or a man’s uncontested right to assume the position of leader. It would take time to win over the people here, and I could not do it without Gillecomghain.
“If you would encourage those who might not naturally take to a woman directing them, you might in return have a certain freedom,” I suggested.
Gillecomghain looked as if he were about to take me in his arms. I frowned to make my distaste of such an action clear.
“I will. I will speak to them.”
In the end, I did not need to rely on his help. More came every day to pay their respects and participate in re-establishing the settlement, and Burghead began to resume its former glory. I recognized many familiar faces from the days of my childhood, and they looked overjoyed to be out from under the rule of Mael Colum and to have a Picti princess in power at Burghead.
By the time I turned the workers’ attention to the Great Hall, there were so many of them that the work was finished in only two days. Then it was time to work towards restoring the stores Mael Colum had depleted. I knew it would be a meagre harvest due to his poor management, and tried to reassure all the surrounding settlements that we would take only what was necessary for our survival that winter.
Summer gave us the gift of delicious meals eaten on warm nights. While everyone ate together in the Great Hall, I enjoyed imposing rigid order over the settlement. Crinan had firmly established his authority by placing himself above all in his Great Hall. He had shown favor to those who might give him strategic advantages in trade, but I decided on a better course. I chose instead to reward loyalty and hard work.
Those who had contributed the least to the day’s proceedings sat on the fringes, spilling out onto the ground outside. Those who had displayed an exceptional commitment to their daily tasks sat on benches in better places, at their forefront high up the hall the taskmasters to whom I had given authority that day. Finally, any visiting thanes dined above the crowd on the high table with me. Initially, I always kept a chair for Gillecomghain but he dined with us so infrequently that I allowed Sinna to sit beside me when he was absent.
The men and women of Moray had been quiet and observant when they first arrived, but grew more talkative as the weeks went by. We chatted around the table until darkness fell, eating and sharing stories of old. Some of them wept as they remembered Findlaich and Donalda. We laughed as we spoke of the old Viking guard that had made up Findlaich’s retinue. It was always late by the time they wandered back into the steadily growing settlement, and I felt once more the warmth of the affection I had elicited from the children of Fife and then of Burghead.
Lulach watched us all with large blue eyes, and it pleased me that he was witness to the growth of our dominion. It was as though he was connected to Burghead; both growing and flourishing, one alongside the other.
I thought to make Gillecomghain give me a second, but some foolishness made me fear how my affection might be torn from my son by the birth of another child, and I resolved to wait until Lulach was older so I might relish these early years with him. As I settled into Burghead in those first few months, I thought again of taking a lover, but much as I longed for such companionship, I could not allow myself the vulnerability, not after Thamhas. So I contented myself with enjoying my own considerable pleasure, and dedicated the rest of my energy to Burghead.
That first winter was bliss. The harvest was poor but people had enough to feed themselves and so were content. Some Norsemen remained around the settlements, continuing to trade what they could after Findlaich’s death. With every ship that docked at Burghead, I sought after news of my father, of Adair, of MacBethad. But while the traders knew much about the wars being fought in the southern kingdom, they knew little of individual warriors. So I hosted them as lavishly as I was able before they sailed north for the winter, and encouraged them to keep Moray’s mending a secret.
In the spring, when Lulach was nearly a year old, King Malcolm sent an envoy to express his sorrow for the tragic death of Mael Colum, though I suspected his true intent was to find out what kind of mormaer Gillecomghain had turned out to be. The messenger stayed two nights, and though I was desperate for news of Duncan and the Princess of Northumbria, I could not bring myself to ask questions. The envoy offered no news of them, leaving us as swiftly as he arrived, content that Gillecomghain had no desire for authority beyond that which was allotted him.
Under my careful direction, Burghead grew even more the following year. In the spring the seas were filled with traders who preferred the short journey to Moray over any expedition further south. The traders sailed back and forth all summer, and my people had the means to buy what they pleased. The harvest this second year was more bountiful than the last, our fishermen’s catches were more abundant.
Though I did not like to admit how heavily influenced I was by what I had learned from Crinan’s authority, I established my own Great Council and did my utmost to judge my people fairly. But I did not keep myself distant as he had done, instead spending as much of my time moving about Moray as I could. I taught Sinna how to manage the ledgers and oversee the traders so that I might take Lulach to Inverness, Elgin, and Ballindoch, the last settlement, gateway to the mountains we had first escaped through—so distant a time ago now that it seemed almost to belong to someone else’s history.
Despite the apparent peace that stretched through our quarter of Alba, I knew we were still in danger—from King Malcolm if he learned of our prosperity, from Duncan who might wish to finish what he had started, from MacBethad if he ever came to avenge his father. If he had grown into the warrior I had predicted, he would storm Burghead with a mighty army given the slightest chance. Much as I longed to hear news of him, to see him, I knew his continued absence was safer.
I built up a small army in secret, composed of Gillecomghain’s guards and men from the surrounding settlements who venerated me as the restorer of their land. Bram became my personal guard, and I entrusted him with Lulach and Sinna’s safety when I could not be with them.
A steady supply of arms was crafted in the armory and disseminated throughout the settlements. I reinstated the signal fires Findlaich had used so that we might be alerted to an attack well in advance. But none came.
Four years passed in this way.
I had thought Gillecomghain would be emboldened by his brother’s death, and that my primary struggle would be to preserve the secrecy around our arrangement. Instead, he retreated further into his own private life, growing skittish in the presence of company.
We both understood that what we had attained was delicate—my assumption of authority at Burghead while he idled away his days in the arms of his lover. But where I used the tenuousness of the situation to strengthen my position, he used it as an excuse to hide. Weeks would go by without sight of him. He only resurfaced when he and his freckled soldier had quarrelled.
I stopped asking him to attend my councils. The people did not respect him as they did me, and his presence often made things uncomfortable. I thought of having him followed, afraid that one day he might not return, but there was no one I could trust with the task.
At first, this separation between us suited me perfectly. But I began to suspect Gillecomghain resented me. I would catch him staring at me, and there would be something both mournful and angry in his eyes.
I tried to approach him about it one evening when I was in a pleasant mood. That day Lulach had bested a much larger boy, fighting with wooden staves, and news had reached us that King Malcolm was ill. It was not serious, and no doubt he had recovered by the time we heard of it, but I enjoyed musing on his discomfort.
Gillecomghain was alone in his own quarters, which meant he was unhappy in love. When I knocked lightly on his door, he did not invite me in. I entered anyway. He was sitting on a wooden chair, his eyes reflecting the firelight as he stared blankly into the flames.
“What is it?” he asked.
“I trust you had a pleasant day,” I said, trying to sound light-hearted and not at all confrontational.
“What do you want?”
All right, confrontation it would be.
“Why do you skulk about like a child and look as if the mere sight of me pains you?”
Gillecomghain didn’t answer.
“How can you resent me after all I have allowed?”
“I don’t resent you,” he said, but I could hear the lie, detecting it like a beacon fire, cutting through the dark.
“Tell me what it is. Perhaps I can help.”
He scoffed at me.
“You of all people cannot help me.”
He was clearly in no mood to be reasonable. I decided to drop the matter and made for the door.
“Mael Colum promised that once I had helped him win Burghead, I could return to Ireland. Someone . . . very dear to me remained behind.”
I froze.
“But you have someone here,” I said.
Gillecomghain shook his head and continued to speak, though now he couldn’t meet my eye.
