By Honor Bound Part 30

It was a question she could not answer, not even in her own mind.

"Well, cousin?" This time Macbeth's voice was soft, almost silky in quality. Elen knew this was the most dangerous question of all, and she must answer it wisely.

As she hesitated, Talcoran made a motion with one hand.

"My lord-" he began. Macbeth interrupted him.

"Be still, my friend. You are too kind to your wife. You love her too much, you protect her too carefully.

Let Elen answer for herself."

"The same could be said of you, my lord," Elen said pertly, hoping to throw him off guard. "You are also known to hold your wife dear."

Her response had no effect on her inquisitor, but it brought a surprised laugh from Gruach, who had beenuncharacteristically quiet during Macbeth's questioning."Answer the question," Macbeth said softly.By now Elen had had a chance to think and to gather her wits together.

"I feel pity," she replied. "The same pity I would feel for a condemned man who has lost everything.""The condemned man has repented and been shriven of his sins before he dies," Macbeth told her. "Patric of Bute has never repented."

"But he has lost everything, including me and my dowry," Elen reminded him. "I am right glad to be thewife of my lord Talcoran, and we are both-both"-she emphasized that again-"completely loyal to you andgrateful to you for the gifts and honors you have bestowed on us, dear cousin."

"I told you so," Gruach said softly."Good." Macbeth let out a long breath. "That is what I needed to hear, that neither your formerfriendship for Fionna nor the affection you once had for her brother will influence your duty to me.Tomorrow I will give Fionna and her daughter into Talcoran's custody. Take her to Laggan and keep hersecure there. See that she has no communication with England. When Talcoran returns to me, for I need him by my side when I go into battle against Siward, then you, Elen, must guard Fionna for me. Will youdo this?"Elen bowed before her king and cousin. "I will, my lord, to the best of my ability.""Did you know Patric was in Alba?" Talcoran watched her from across their bedchamber as he spoke."Dear husband, you have been away for several weeks, and I have missed you. Will you not come to bed?" Elen sat down on the foot of their bed and looked invitingly at the angry man who now approached her.

"Answer me, woman.""I thought I had answered everything when Macbeth questioned me earlier tonight." She caught his handand pulled him down to sit beside her. "Don't you trust me?"

"Why is it that whenever Patric mac Keith is mentioned you distract me by coaxing me into bed?"

"Perhaps it is because I find him a disagreeable subject of conversation." Elen placed her husband's handon her breast. "Isn't this more pleasant?""You know it is." Talcoran bent his head to kiss the soft flesh that rounded the surface of her nightdress.

She caught at him and held him close.

"I have been away too long," Talcoran whispered as he pushed her down onto the bed.

Summer 1054 to Spring 1055.

Talcoran stayed at Laggan only a few days before riding southward to rejoin Macbeth.

"Let me go with you, father," Colin mac Talcoran begged. "I'm strong, and you know how good I am with my sword."

"Not this time," Talcoran said. "Remain here and protect the women."

"Women," Colin scoffed, with all the tine scorn of a thirteen-year-old male.

"Two of those women are royal prisoners," Talcoran reminded him. "Macbeth and I both are depending upon you to guard them well."

"Take care, Elen." Talcoran kissed her cheek and mounted his horse, a descendant of the great, prancingbrute he had ridden when first she knew him. "I'll send messengers regularly. You will be well informed."

She watched his back as he rode away. He had loved her well the night before. Her body was pleasantly satisfied, but a doubt lurked in her mind. She feared he no longer trusted her as completely as he once had done.

Dear Lord, she prayed, let him return safely

and I'll never give him cause to wonder about me again.

Elen settled down to her usual summer duties at Laggan, and to keeping a watchful eye on Fionna, who showed no interest in escape, but instead whiled away the time by helping Elen as if they were still on the friendliest of terms.

Talcoran's messengers came regularly with news. Earl Siward had crossed the border into Alba and was steadily fighting his way northward. The Norman mercenaries Macbeth had requested from his ally, the King of the Franks, had arrived. They were a rough lot, but eager for battle. Gruach had been ill, with a high fever and a cough, but was somewhat better now, though the cough remained. She had told Talcoran that she sorely missed Elen, and even Fionna. Lulach sent greetings to Elen.

July was over and August had begun. There were no messengers for several days, and then one morning a dust-streaked rider appeared with a letter dictated by Talcoran. Colin and little Crania, Fionna and her daughter Elen, Briga and Ava, and the aged Dougal cl.u.s.tered around Elen as she broke the seal and opened the parchment.

"What does it say?" Colin asked breathlessly.Elen read quickly."There was a battle on July twenty-seventh," she reported."And? And?" Colin was nearly dancing in his excitement. "What else, mother?"

Elen raised stricken eyes from the pages in her hands.

"Macbeth has sustained a major defeat," she said, and saw their faces fall. She went on reading. "Siward attacked by land, and at the same time sent his warships into the Firth of Tay to make a

second a.s.sault from the sea. Talcoran says our men fought bravely, even the mercenaries. It was a terrible, b.l.o.o.d.y battle. Both sides took heavy losses. Earl Siward's elder son Osbeorn and his nephew Siward were both killed, along with many of his followers."

Fionna gasped, a trembling hand clutched to her throat at this news, and Elen knew she feared for her husband and brother.

" 'Although Siward and Malcolm won this time, it will do them little good, for many of their best men aregone,' " Elen read. " 'Malcolm has been re-established as King of c.u.mbria, and has secured to himselfmost of Alba south of the River Tay. He now makes his headquarters at Dunedin, on the Firth of Forth.'"

"I should have been there," Colin complained."Thank G.o.d you were not," his mother told him."What of Macbeth?" Briga asked."Talcoran says he has retreated northward. The court is now at Aberdeen. Not one n.o.ble or soldierwent over to Siward's side. How proud Macbeth must be of that."

A second letter arrived two days later, this one for Fionna. Talcoran sent word that he had learned both Conal and Patric were unharmed.

"What a good man Talcoran is," Fionna said. "How kind of him to write to me."

Talcoran himself appeared in late September.

"Siward has withdrawn to the south," he said. "There are rumors he is ill. There will be no more fighting for a while. We are safe enough in the north. Macbeth is gathering a new army to reconquer southern Alba. I will take more of our men with me when I leave."

"Take me, too, father." Colin made his usual plea.

"Stay here this winter, my son. Perhaps next spring you may join me."

Talcoran made love to Elen two or three times each night of the week he spent at Laggan. It was as if he could not get enough of her, or perhaps he needed that a.s.surance of her love for him. She knew that, however much he loved her, he did not entirely trust her, and her heart ached at the knowledge.

Winter that year was unusually cold and snowy. Drifts piled up in the mountain pa.s.ses in November, so deep that Laggan would be isolated until the spring thaws. With Talcoran at court and no news of Macbeth's fortunes or Siward's activities coming to them, the folk at Laggan Castle drew in upon themselves.

Shortly after Christmas the usual minor winter illnesses began. Elen and Briga doled out medicines from the stillroom. Except for the bad weather, it seemed an ordinary winter until Dougal became sick. Elen tended her late father's aged servant with loving care, but on the third day he died.

"There was nothing more we could have done," Briga comforted her. "He was too old and weak to fight the illness."

"Let us hope the young are stronger." Fionna had joined them by the fire in the great hall. "My Elen is feverish."

By the next day, seven-year-old Crania was sick, too, and the day after that Colin took to his bed. Ava and two of the kitchen wenches were next. Each day, more members of the household fell ill. The last lingering constraint between Elen and Fionna disappeared as they worked together with Briga to nurse the sick. They were no longer prisoner and keeper, but the friends they had

always been at heart.

Fionna's twelve-year-old daughter Elen died. Her grown-up namesake and G.o.dmother held Fionna in her arms as the two women mingled their tears. The following night Crania coughed her life away, and it was Fionna who held a grieving Elen.

"I have only one child left!" Elen cried. "If Colin dies, too, what will I do?"

"I think he will live," Briga said. "He is stronger than the girls were, and he seems to be a little better today."

"Poor Fionna. I'm sorry," Elen said, her arms about Fionna's waist, her head on her friend's shoulder. " You've lost a daughter, too, and you don't even know where your boys are. Oh, Crania, Crania." Elen burst into tears again.

In those bitter days, Elen's only happiness was that Colin was slowly getting better. He had lost a great deal of weight, his thinness bringing out more obviously than ever his resemblance to his mother. His midnight-blue eyes were ringed by dark shadows, his youthful cheeks were hollow. Briga and Elen continually plied him with treats from the kitchen, hoping to hasten his recovery and to add some flesh to his too-slender frame.

By the time the sickness had run its course, they had lost one of the kitchen wenches, two other servants, and a man-at-arms. Ava survived in a weakened state. Elen made Nechtan, one of Talcoran's Pictish men-at-arms, her new captain of the household guard to take Dougal's place.

After the snow had melted in the spring, Talcoran returned to Laggan. He said nothing when told of Crania's death, but Elen saw his mouth twist into a hard, bitter line. The daughter she had borne him when he had expected another son had become his special joy and delight, a child of laughter and sunshine not the least intimidated by her father's stern reserve, who climbed over him, teasing and cajoling and loving him. Talcoran wept no tears for his daughter, but that night he came to their bed and took Elen with a cold, savage fury, as though he were punishing her for the loss of Crania. And he still mistrusted her.

"You have believed nothing I've said since that night Macbeth questioned me," Elen accused him. "You are unfair to me, Talcoran."

"Macbeth may have believed your story, lady, but I do not. I know you too well. Something else happened while you were in Fife. Tell me what it is, so I can trust you again."

She could not do it. If he knew her, she knew him, too, and knew he would tell Macbeth that she and Fionna had both spoken with Patric. It would mean their lives, for after Siward's invasion of the summer past, Macbeth would never accept their explanations that the meetings were innocent. Talcoran might be punished by death, too, since he was responsible for his wife's actions, and Colin's future, if he were allowed to live, would be bleak. No, whatever the cost to her marriage, she could not tell Talcoran what he wanted to know. She had to protect him and their son.

Siward the Strong, Earl of Northumbria, was dying. His nephew, Malcolm mac Duncan, was in Dunedin, but Patric mac Keith had come to York in the spring of 1055, at Siward's summons, to bid him farewell.

"You will stay with Malcolm," Siward said, attempting to heave himself up in bed. "When I am buried, return to him."

"As I promised his father, so I promise you. I will remain with Malcolm until he is King of Alba."

"Soon. It shall be soon." Siward gave way to a fit of coughing.

"We must be patient, my lord, until the time is right. We misjudged the Scots. They remain faithful to Macbeth, as we now know to our cost."