falling to the floor must have alerted his servant, Segan, who came to the door. The killer had secured the door but, hearing Segan call out, realized that if he remained locked without, he would raise the alarm and the assassin would not be able to escape. So he slid the bolt and waited behind the door.”
Cothromanach smiled. “I cannot fault your logic, noble lord.”
MacBeth continued, warming to the theme. “Standing behind the door, the assassin waited as the young man opened the door. The killer relied on the fact that the young man would react at the sight of Malcolm lying in his bloodstained shirt on the floor; he knew that the servant would take an involuntary step forward into the room. That was when the blow was struck. Then the killer left the room.”
“Again, the logic is without a fault.”
MacBeth smiled thinly. “If nothing else, I answer to logic,” he replied complacently.
“Very well, my lord. Let us turn logic to the following matters. Firstly, let us regard the body of the prince.”
MacBeth looked down, his face wrinkled in distaste. “What can we learn from it except that the killer stabbed the prince in the back?”
“That he did so presents us with an important question that needs a resolution.”
“How so?”
“We have heard that the prince was in fear of his life for the reasons well known to you, noble lord. He slept at night with his door bolted from the interior. How, then, when his assassin came to his chamber, did he gain entrance?”
MacBeth raised his eyebrows and turned to examine the door. The bolt was in place, and there was no sign of any undue violence being used against the lock. He did not have to go to the small window in the chamber, for he knew that it was a long drop into a rocky ravine through which a river meandered. There was no way anyone would climb in through that window. He would take an oath on it.
“If-” He paused and framed his words slowly. “-if the door was bolted, then Malcolm himself must have let his killer into the chamber.”
Cothromanach made a gesture of approval. “In order to do that, the prince Malcolm must have known his assassin. He must have known him well enough to have trusted him, to have let him into his bedchamber while not yet dressed and-”
MacBeth interrupted, for now he saw what the elderly brehon was getting at. “He must have trusted him to be able to have turned his back on him, for the two stab wounds are in the back. The killer, as Malcolm turned away from him, stabbed him twice.”
“Then dropped the knife and was turning to go-”
“When he was interrupted by Segan?”
“Perhaps,” the brehon said. “Yet what would be the motive for such a deed?”
“Surely the motive is obvious? Malcolm was a popular candidate for the High Kingship. The likely motive was to eliminate him.”
“So we are saying that whoever did this deed was a servant of Duncan who aspires to the throne?”
MacBeth nodded and then grimaced. “You are forgetting my claim, for with the prince Malcolm gone, I am now the head of the House of Moray and challenger to the kingship at Sgain.”
Cothromanach smiled briefly. “I have not forgotten. Nor have I forgotten that you are not the only one who stands to gain.”
MacBeth frowned. “Who?”
“The Lady Gruoch would benefit by your elevation to the kingship.”
For a moment MacBeth stood in anger, but then he shrugged as if in acceptance. “You mean more than she would have done had her brother gained the throne?”
“Of course. Much more. However, this is hardly a woman’s work.”
“With that, I agree.” MacBeth was emphatic.
The door opened, and Garban the steward reentered. “Segan is having his wound redressed. Can I render more assistance?”
“Find the maid Margreg and bring her here,” instructed MacBeth.
The brehon held up a hand to stay him. “You knew the prince Malcolm well, didn’t you?”
Garban blinked in surprise and shrugged. “That is common knowledge. I was employed in the house of Bodhe before I took service with my lord MacBeth. I taught young Malcolm to ride his first horse. His death grieves me sorely.”
“Indeed,” sighed the brehon, and dismissed him with a wave.
When Garban had gone, MacBeth turned to Cothromanach. “Let us hear from the maid’s own lips that we were in our beds at the time the deed was done,” he told the brehon. “Then you may be able to quench any malicious rumors which may be spread about us.”
“You are sensitive on this matter,” observed the brehon.
“I know my grandfather, the High King, and my cousin, Duncan Mac Crinan,” MacBeth said grimly.
“So be it,” Cothromanach sighed.
Margreg was young and youthful, scarcely seventeen. She was dark haired, fair skinned, and attractive, and what is more, she knew it. There was a boldness about her that might have been interpreted by some as a speculative lasciviousness.
She entered the chamber, dropped a half-curtsy to MacBeth, and was about to acknowledge the venerable brehon when her eyes caught sight of the body on the floor. Her features wrinkled distastefully, but she did not avert her gaze.
“The brehon wishes to ask you a few questions,” MacBeth said, stepping to one side and motioning the brehon to proceed.
“You are maidservant to the Lady Gruoch?”
“You know so,” retorted the girl with confidence. “You are as familiar with this castle as I am.”
Cothromanach suppressed a sigh of irritation. “This is an official inquiry, girl. Just answer my questions and leave your impudence for those who appreciate it.”
The girl pouted in annoyance. “Yes. I am maid to the Lady Gruoch.”
“How long have you held that position?”
“Full one year since she came to this castle with her baby in search of sanctuary.”
“Did you attend your mistress at bedtime.”
“I did. Her dressing room is next door to the bedchamber, and that is where the baby, Lulach, sleeps, and that is where I sleep, as well. I helped her undress and prepare for bed. That was just after the feasting.”
“So you sleep in the next chamber. Were you disturbed in the night?”
“Yes. I awoke and heard the baby coughing. He is a good little soul but inclined to a night cough. So I arose and tended the child. I had quietened him and was about to go back to bed when I heard a door open and footsteps in the corridor. Curiosity made me go to the door, and I looked out.”
MacBeth had turned with a frown. “What time was this?”
The girl shrugged. “I have no means of knowing, my lord. It was dark and cold, and the embers in the fire I had built in the chamber were gray.” She turned to Cothromanach. “I try to keep a fire going through the night for the good of the baby. Warm air eases his poor little chest.”
“You said that you went to the door and looked out,” MacBeth observed heavily. “What did you see?”
“The Lady Gruoch, walking down the corridor. She was carrying something in her hand.”
“How could you see that it was her? Did you or she have a candle?” asked the brehon quickly.
The girl shook her head. “No. There are torches kept alight in the corridor there.”
“So the Lady Gruoch left the bedchamber during the night?” pressed MacBeth unnecessarily.
“What time did she return?” demanded the brehon.
“I do not know. Having seen that it was my lady, I simply returned to my bed, for it was chill, as I have said, and I was asleep in no time.”
“Were you disturbed again?”
“Yes. I thought me barely asleep when I awoke and found my lady bending over me. She said she could not sleep and asked me to prepare her a goblet of mulled wine. I did so.”
“And you had no idea when that was either, I suppose?” sighed MacBeth.
