By Honor Bound Part 20

Inside Elen's heart, something that had lain cold and frozen throughout the winter began to thaw as the days grew longer and warmer. She sat alone in her chamber one afternoon, enjoying a rare respite from her duties. She tossed the household keys carelessly onto a table. She really should check on the supply of ale, and one of the kitchen maids had warned her that some of the dried meat had started to rot. They probably hadn't dried it properly, and she had neglected to see for herself how they had stored it. She hadn't had time before Aiden was born.

She watched a fluffy cloud sail slowly across the blue sky. A sweet-scented breeze blew through the open window and touched her cheek, reminding her that she ought to see if Talcoran's room had been aired. He had ridden out earlier in the day. She would do it while he was gone. She hurried along the corridor to the master's chamber and pushed open the door.

She was halfway across the room before she saw him sprawled naked across the bed with an empty cup in his outstretched hand. She tiptoed to the bed and looked down at him as he slept.

There were dark shadows under his eyes. When had he grown so thin? She stretched out a trembling hand to touch the ribs that clearly showed beneath the waxy skin. She s.n.a.t.c.hed her fingers back before they made contact with his flesh, and picked up the cup instead. It smelled of mead.

He had forbidden her this room. She should not be here. She turned to go. She took two steps away from the bed and stopped, then turned back to look at him again. He was her husband and she wanted him. She knew that he needed her. She stripped off her clothes and lay down beside him. He did not move. After a moment she kissed his unresponsive lips. She thought she saw his eyelids flutter, but he gave no sign that he was aware of her.

She tucked her head under his chin and snuggled against him. She was deeply touched by his familiar warmth. She thought fleetingly that if they had had each other to cling to, perhaps the dreadful winter just past would not have been so bad. She would not dwell on that. Her heart would forever ache for the loss of Aiden, but what was done was done, and this was today. She would disregard Talcoran's qualms about lying with her. They could begin again.

Her fingers traced the tattooed design on his left shoulder. Then she ran her hand along his chest, feeling the muscles now grown stringy from lack of nourishment. She would repair that damage, make him eat more meat and good brown bread and cheese. She felt his belly, hollow and empty, and gently caressed his flanks. They were sinewy, with not a trace of fat on them.

Oh, my love, she thought, I have been so preoccupied with my own grief and ill health that I have neglected you.

She came to his manhood, lying small and shriveled on its bed of black hair. All of Talcoran's hair was smooth and silky, even in this most private place. She took him in her hand.

He had lain unconscious while she fondled him, but now he stirred, turning his head and flinging one arm over his eyes. His other arm closed about her, holding her against his side. He muttered something she could not understand, then lapsed into mead-induced sleep once more.

With fingers light as a b.u.t.terfly's touch, she continued her caresses. She felt her own body growing

warmer, felt the languid moistness beginning. Surely, even if he was drunk, he must soon begin to be aware of her. . . .

At last he began to respond, as she knew he would. He sighed deeply and the arm about her waist

tightened. She strained upward, reaching for his lips.

He came alive with frightening suddenness.

"d.a.m.n you!" He thrust her aside, and in the same furious movement rolled off the bed and stood glaring

down at her. "What in the name of all the fiends of h.e.l.l do you think you are doing?"

Elen stretched on the bed and smiled at him. Surprised at her presence he might be, but his desire for her was now obvious.

He saw her looking. He s.n.a.t.c.hed a fur off the bed and wrapped it around his waist.

"You looked so lonely sleeping here," she said. "Will you join me, my love?" She patted the still-warm

spot beside her invitingly.

"How dare you come into my room? I have forbidden you. My G.o.d, woman, don't you know-" Hebroke off, looking at her with a hungry expression."It is spring, Talcoran," she said. "Let us love the afternoon away in celebration."A few months ago he would have leapt upon her and left her breathless with his kisses and his intense, demanding pa.s.sion for her. Indeed, he would not have needed half the coaxing she had been forced to today. But it was a new Talcoran, a dark, bitter man who stood watching her with cold scorn.

"Get up and dress yourself," he said. "I have done with you. Do not come to my bed again.""I know you want me. We need to love each other." Reluctantly, she left his bed. She tossed her hairback over her shoulders and saw the flickering emotion in his eyes as he watched the movement. Shecame to face him, put her hands on his shoulders and tried to kiss him. "Please, Talcoran," she begged.

He stepped back, clenching his jaw. "Get out," he said. "I will not be the instrument of your death."

"You do want me." She watched him carefully, seeing no change in his hard expression. "Briga helps mein the stillroom, did you know that? She knows a great deal about herbs and their properties.""What of it?""She says there are herbs we could use to make an infusion to drink that would keep me from conceiving."

"I have heard of such potions. It is a sin to use them, and they can kill. I will not allow you to take therisk, either for your body or your soul.""No, my love, they are only simples and the old remedies for illnesses that women have made for generations. They have that special effect in addition to their other properties. There is no harm in them.""No.""Talcoran, I beg you-"

She had never seen him so angry. He drew himself up, and to Elen he suddenly seemed much taller than she was, overwhelming, powerful.

"Woman, will you continue to defy me? I don't want anything to happen to you. You dare not have any

more children. I will not allow you to use wicked potions, and most definitely I will not lie with you. Now

get out, and stay out of my room!" Under his cold, angry eyes, she dressed. She was at the door, pulling it open, when he spoke again.

"Elen." He sounded exhausted and infinitely sad. "It is for your good that I do this."

She did not answer him. She could not look at him. She wandered with dragging feet back to her own room and sat dumbly in her chair, her hands idle in her lap, staring out the window.

"I'm angry, too," she murmured at last. "How could you treat me so? I love you."

She ached with unsatisfied desire. Almost equally unpleasant was the humiliation of Talcoran's rejection.

There was nothing private in the way they lived at Laggan. Someone surely had heard Talcoran shouting at her. By now every man and woman in the castle would know that the Thane of Laggan wanted nothing to do with his wife.

"How can it be for my good," she whispered to the empty, lonely room, "when it hurts so much?"

15.

Autumn 1043.

Elen tried to pretend nothing had happened, that all was as it once had been between her and Talcoran.

Before others he treated her with the same grave courtesy he had always shown. In private, he ignored her.

There were nights when, half-mad with longing for him, she could not sleep at all, nights when she carried a pitcher of mead to her lonely room and drank herself into a stuporous slumber.

When Briga learned of this, she cornered Elen in the stillroom one afternoon and scolded her mistress severely, forgetting in her concern that she was only a servant.

"If you have no thought for yourself," Briga said, "think of Colin. He is still a baby. He needs

you.""You don't understand," Elen began."I understand more than you think," Briga interrupted. "My master is a stubborn man, and he loves youtoo much for his own peace. We can but hope that one day he will come to his senses, Here, drink this."

steaming brew. Elen inhaled the scent.

"This smells good. What is it?"

"Lavender and mint, and one or two other herbs. It will soothe you. I'll bring you more at bedtime, to help you sleep."

Elen hesitated, looking doubtfully into the liquid, then sniffing at it. Briga understood her qualms.

"Do you think I'd do anything to harm you, mistress? I'll make another cup if you wish, so you may see everything that goes into it."

"I trust you, Briga." Elen drained the cup, and drank the one Briga brought to her chamber at bedtime. Her sleep that night was long and dreamless.

After that she resorted occasionally to Briga's concoctions when she could not sleep. They never left her with a headache as the mead did. There was sage, dried and ground into a powder and dissolved in hot water, to calm the nerves, or cowslip wine, which helped Elen to sleep when she had a headache, or chamomile. Her favorite remained the lavender and mint infusion Briga had first given to her.

After a while Elen became accustomed to the lonely way of life Talcoran had imposed on her, but she was not happy with it, and she felt a deep resentment toward her husband for his arbitrary decision. He would listen to nothing she had to say on the subject, dismissing all her arguments with his insistence that bearing another child would kill Elen and he would not chance it.

She was grateful when they finally returned to court. Macbeth had begun a progress through his kingdom and was at Forres when they returned. Soon after, he moved to Aberdeen, then to Scone, then to Dunfermline and back to his capital at Scone again. The continual travels of this itinerant court suited Elen 's mood. While Macbeth and his administrators and councillors attended to local affairs and received royal tribute from landholders and n.o.bles in each place they stayed, and the men and women of his court ate and drank all of the provisions available until it was time to move on, Elen applied herself to her duties as lady to the queen and tried not to think of her desolate marriage.

In November, a rumor circulated through Macbeth's court that Duncan's second son, Donald, now ten years old, had been taken to live on an island in the Hebrides.

"That is much too close," Bancho grumbled. "I hope no idiot has a plan to invade Alba and put that lad on the throne."

"Thorfinn of Orkney controls the western islands," Talcoran reminded him, "and his friendship with Macbeth remains unshaken. I think we can trust him to stop any schemes of that sort."

"I hope you are right," Conal mac Duff put in. "Life is too sweet these days. I have no more taste for war." He smiled at Fionna as she poured frothing ale into his cup and then moved on to refill Bancho's.

"You have the nicest apartments in the palace," Bancho told her. "I feel at home every time I come here."

"You are always a welcome guest." Fionna patted Bancho's silver-streaked head. "I saw Fergus yesterday. He certainly looks happier now that Crania is back at court."

"Have you talked with Macbeth?" Elen asked Bancho. "Will he let Crania and Fergus marry soon? She has been a widow for almost six months now."

"Unfortunately, she is a rich widow. I think Macbeth does not want to hand over so much land and other property to a son of mine. Well, it can't be helped. Not everyone can be as happy as the four of you are." Bancho c.o.c.ked an eyebrow at Elen,unaware of the irony of his words. "How do you feel, la.s.s? You do look better than you did last winter."

"I am in excellent health, thank you." Elen rose and kissed Bancho on the cheek."There's something to be said for old age," he joked, winking at Talcoran and Conal. "All the la.s.sies feelfree to kiss and fondle me. I find I like it."

"You are not so harmless as you appear," Elen teased him. "I've heard some stories about you, old

friend. I must leave you now. I am to attend the queen this evening."

She left the room without a glance at Talcoran. She was certain Fionna had noticed and would comment later, but Elen told herself she no longer cared what people thought.

Gruach and Macbeth were talking in one of the queen's private rooms. Elen heard them as she went through the anteroom. At first she thought they were discussing the rumor about Donald, but she was wrong.

"Bancho may be in contact with Siward of Northumbria," Macbeth was saying as Elen crossed theroom. "The question is, would he betray me? He has too much power, too many armed men at hisdisposal." He broke off, seeing Elen in the doorway.

"If you wish, I will leave," Elen offered."No, not at all. Come in, cousin." Macbeth put his arm across Elen's shoulders.In a bright blue tunic trimmed with fringe and gold embroidery, he was as dazzling and as charming as ever. He sat her down on a cushioned chair and poured wine for her with his own hands,while Gruach inquired with genuine concern about her health and that of her son."Colin is well," Elen said. "And what of Lulach? I have heard little of him since we returned to court.""He remains at the Monastery at Loch Leven for schooling," Gruach informed her. "I think he would like to be a monk, but we have other plans for him."

When Macbeth had left them, Gruach became very serious.

"What did you hear before you came into this room?" she demanded."Only something about Earl Siward. I wasn't thinking of that. I was thinking of Bancho.""What about Bancho?" Gruach snapped.Elen knew she had made a mistake. Gruach thought she had been eavesdropping. She would have to lie her way out of it. She hated lying, because she was so bad at it. Perhaps a half-lie would do.

"We were talking a little while ago," she said, "about Crania and Fergus. You know of course that they

want to marry? Bancho said he would speak to Macbeth about it. I was thinking of that when I came inhere, so I didn't really hear what you said." She hoped that would satisfy Gruach."Crania and Fergus." Gruach was thoughtful. "Perhaps that is not such a bad idea. I should have thought of it myself. Their marriage would please Bancho, would it not?""I'm sure it would. Bancho loves his son dearly. Anything that makes Fergus happy-""-would bind Bancho more closely to us in grat.i.tude," Gruach finished for her. "And Crania's inheritance from her late husband would pa.s.s to Fergus and their sons, not to Bancho."