was only reinforcing his claims to the High Kingship because Gruoch, too, had been the grandchild of a High King, Kenneth III, who had died some thirty years ago. Only in these lands, which comprised the former ancient kingdoms of the Cruithne, was a succession through the female allowed by Brehon Law, but the Pictish custom, as it was called, had not been claimed since Drust Mac Ferat ruled over two hundred years before. So the gossip did not hold water.
More logical tongues pointed out that the Lady Gruoch’s brother, Malcolm Mac Bodhe, as grandson to Kenneth III, had a more popular claim to the throne as next High King. Even if he had not, it was well known that Malcolm II, who had sired only daughters, did not favor his grandson MacBeth, or, indeed, any member of the Moray House. The old king favored his grandson, Duncan Mac Crinan, the son of the Abbot of Dunkeld, and son of his eldest daughter.
The old king and his grandson, Duncan, were of the House of Atholl, and they maintained they had a superior right to the High Kingship at Sgain than the House of Moray, even though his second daughter, the Lady Doada, had married Findlay of Moray and was MacBeth’s mother. The death of Gillecomgain in the previous year was attributed by many of the House of Moray as being a deed carried out at the whispered order of Malcolm II to ensure that Duncan was placed on the throne. Gillecomgain alive had been a threat to Atholls claims. Gillecomgain had been slaughtered. But Malcolm Mac Bodhe, grandson of Kenneth III, had become the next challenger to the continued Atholl dominance at Sgain. Some were already acclaiming him as successor to Malcolm II.
But now Malcolm Mac Bodhe, too, was dead; lying on the floor of his bedchamber in MacBeth’s castle. Murdered.
The young king appeared troubled as he stood regarding his tearful wife, who stood, leaning against the doorjamb, her breast heaving, a hand across her trembling mouth.
“There will be many who will blame me for this death, my lady,” MacBeth addressed the grief-stricken young woman quietly. He held out a hand to comfort her.
She took it and gave a single heartrending sob, trying, at the same time, to gain control over her feelings. The years of threatening danger had taught her to suppress her emotions until she could indulge in them without distraction.
“How so, my lord?” she asked, succeeding in the effort.
“They will say that I have killed, or had killed, your brother, in order to secure my place nearer the throne at Sgain.”
The woman’s eyes widened, and she shook her head vehemently. “I will swear that you never left my side since we parted from my brother after the meal last night.”
“Can you so swear?”
“Aye, I can, for I have not closed my eyes these last hours. You know well that I am still beset by nightmares and have visions of our being burnt while we slept, as happened to my… as happened to Gillecomgain, your cousin. I heard Garban come into our chamber and ask you to follow him here-that is why I came after you to see what was amiss.”
“They will say that your witness for me is what might be expected of a wife or that you had good cause to see your brother dead so that your husband could claim the throne that you might sit by his side as queen at Sgain. Indeed, some might even say that, while I slept, you did the deed yourself for ambitions sake.”
The Lady Gruoch paled as she stared at him. “What fiendlike creature will people have me be?” she whispered in shock. “To kill my own brother? Even to think such a thought is to pronounce speculations hateful to the ears of any justice.”
“It may be said just the same,” pointed out MacBeth impassively. “Many things are said and done in the court of my grandfather at Sgain. I do not doubt that the vaulting ambition of my cousin Duncan, the son of my mothers own sister, will do more than make hateful speculations to secure the throne. His father, the unnatural abbot of Dunkeld, even tries to poison the entire Church against anyone who stands as rival to the resolution of his son to secure the throne.”
“I fear that it is so,” sighed Gruoch. “I have long labored, as you know, in the belief that the destruction of Gillecomgain was brought about by your grandfather, who encouraged the rumors which laid the deed at your door.”
MacBeth lowered his head. It was true that rumors still circulated accusing him of Gillecomgain’s death. “There will be more whispers yet,” he agreed heavily, “unless we speedily resolve this unnatural death of your brother.”
A tall elderly man stood at the door. It was clear that he had just come from a deep sleep. His hair was a little disheveled, and his clothes had not been put on with care.
“Garban has informed me of these tragic events, noble lord,” the man muttered, his eyes moving swiftly from MacBeth to Gruoch and to the body on the floor. They glinted coldly in the candlelight and seemed to miss nothing.
“I am glad that you have come, Cothromanach. It needs your skilled touch here, for I was saying to the Lady Gruoch, there are many who will wish to taint me with this killing. Your word is needed that this matter has been properly conducted and resolved so that none may level any accusation against me.”
Cothromanach, the brehon, set his face stonily. “The truth is the truth. I am here to serve that truth, my lord.”
MacBeth nodded. “Indeed, let us proceed with logic. Garban has told you that we have a witness to this deed in the prince Malcolm’s servant?”
Cothromanach nodded. “I am told that he has been sent for.”
“He has. The Lady Gruoch and I were in our bedchamber until Garban summoned me. The Lady Gruoch says that she is prepared to state that I did not rouse from our bed all night. I have told her that her testimony might be dismissed on grounds of her relationship to me.”
The brehon pursed his lips wryly. “Madam, is there any other witness that will say that you and your husband did not stir until Garban summoned your husband here?”
Gruoch thought a moment and then nodded in affirmation. “Little more than an hour ago, I asked my maid Margreg to bring me mulled wine to help me sleep. She entered our chamber with the wine while my husband slept on obliviously.”
MacBeth raised his eyebrows in surprise. “I did not hear her.”
“You were tired, my lord, after yesterdays hunt and last nights feasting.”
“This is true. So Margreg brought wine and saw me sound asleep beside you? This, you say, was but an hour ago?”
“It was so.”
MacBeth turned to the brehon. “And I was roused to come here but a quarter of the hour past, and if the deed were committed not long before, it would mean that we have the best witness yet in the maid.”
“What makes you think the deed was done but an hour ago?” queried the brehon.
“Easy to tell. We have a witness to the deed.” He turned to his wife to explain. “I have sent for your brother’s servant, who, it appears, was attacked by the assassin. He has already indicated the time to my steward, Garban.”
The Lady Gruoch stared at him in surprise. “This servant was attacked by the assassin? Then we have no need fear our innocence of the deed.”
MacBeth sighed: “Perhaps,” he said softly. “Truth does not still malicious tongues.”
“You sound defensive, lord,” observed the brehon. “As if you already stand accused and found guilty.”
“It is why I want you to examine this matter closely, Cothromanach. I fear it may be so unless I demonstrate that I had no hand in this. Now, here comes Garban and Malcolm’s servant. Do return to our chamber, my lady, and dress yourself, for it is near dawn and this may be a long day.” He paused and turned to Cothromanach. “That is, unless you wish the lady to stay?”
The elderly brehon shook his head. “I have no objections to the Lady Gruoch withdrawing.”
As Gruoch left the chamber with a single glance back to where her brothers body lay, old Garban came forward. Behind him followed a younger man, tall and well built. There was a gash over his eye that still seeped blood. His face was pale, and he walked with an unsteady gait. He stood hesitating before MacBeth, looking from him to the brehon.
Old Garban gave him a gentle nudge forward.
