Chapter Twenty-Two
Tessa had the forgotten luxury of washing herself all over with warm water, a soft cloth and fragrant soap—much nicer than the hurried splashes in cold streams that had served for weeks. Afterward, she dressed herself in a clean linen shift over which she pulled a light blue dress, its edges decorated with embroidered flowers. Her hair she arranged as best she could. It was too long to look boyish now but too short to be truly feminine. Without a polished brass mirror she had no way to know what the effect of her preparations amounted to, but in truth she looked charming with her tumble of auburn hair stopping just over the white and blue of her costume.
When the bell rang for dinner, Tessa stepped through the curtain and into the great hall with curiosity. It was a small household that greeted her. Only about twelve people gathered for the meal, the soldiers she had seen earlier and several ladies who seemed likely to be their wives. A long table was set for sixteen with real plates, real glass goblets, and something Tessa had never seen before, forks beside each place.
A servant indicated her place by pulling out a chair for Tessa, not the usual bench, and she seated herself just as Banaugh and Jamie entered the hall. The eyes of both lit up to see her, and they looked quite changed, being clean and neat. Jamie had probably never been so well groomed in his life.
As they took chairs on Tessa’s right, Banaugh rubbed his beard thoughtfully. “They sent a wee foreign man t’ trim me up,” he told her with a grin. “He was clever an’ quick as a squirrel, an’ th’ blade he used was somethin’. D’ ye no’ think me twa sae handsome?”
She laughingly assured him he had never looked better, then complimented Jamie’s appearance as well. For once his hair did not stick up like bristles from his head, and his plain face shone with pleasure at Tessa’s attention.
There was a small stir among those at the table, and the three looked up to see Ayla, pushing before her the wheeled chair in which Lady Miriam sat. She had changed for dinner into a robe of silk, beautifully patterned in blues and greens, with a blue headpiece again hiding her hair and forehead. It was a brave attempt, but her body was still pitiful in its unnatural shape.
Ayla maneuvered the chair up to its place at the head of the table then seated herself beside the lady. At a gesture from Miriam, platters of astonishing variety were brought in and placed on the boards. No one moved to begin the meal, however, and Jamie’s anxious eyes sought Tessa’s, wondering what they waited for. The answer came when, at a signal from Ayla, the assembly stood as one, Tessa and the two males hurriedly following custom. A dark-skinned man in strange clothing began without preamble a sing-song chant Tessa recognized as a prayer, though she had heard nothing like it before. After the chant, Miriam and Ayla washed their hands and feet in a silver bowl held by a servant while another servant handed each one a small towel on which to dry them.
When this was finished, Hamish, standing on the lady’s left side, said a simple prayer of thanks for the meal, one Tessa and her two companions understood. Afterward there was silence as every head bowed for several minutes. Finally, a movement from Ayla ended the silence. With a chanted “Amen,” everyone was seated once more. That grace had been asked was apparent, but the style was unusual to say the least, a mixture of Christian and Islamic customs. Immediately the meal began, with accompanying chatter and good humor. Food was offered, drinks poured, and things began to feel more normal.
Tessa was delighted with the fork, which she used after watching Ayla’s deft movement. It was vastly superior for keeping one’s fingers clean, but she noticed bits of cloth were placed beside each plate for wiping hands that did become greasy. Much better than grease-spots on the clothing, she thought, and resolved that if ever she had a home of her own, forks and these useful bits of cloth would be part of its furnishings.
During the meal, Miriam chatted with various people, but her eyes wandered often to Tessa. Clearly she hoped they could speak further. At one point she leaned toward the girl, who was on Ayla’s right. “You have Macbeth’s way of watching and learning,” she said approvingly. “Those anxious to learn make the best companions. Your uncle helped me to learn your language, never laughing at my mistakes and always explaining clearly why a thing was so.”
Tessa’s mind flashed back to Eleanor Brixton, who had done the same for her, teaching her how to behave like an English lady with no disparagement of her Scottish ways. She understood the gratitude Miriam must have felt for one who helped make a strange society less confusing.
Miriam finished, “I will always remember that he treated me well when others avoided me, calling me ‘foreign witch’ and ‘heathen.’ Macbeth macFindlaech was a man who could see more than two feet from his nose.”
Tessa could have argued that Macbeth had not been able to see past his own ambitions, but it was not the time for such a statement. She made a response that was germane but not direct. “Did you know Macbeth’s lady? I served her until I went to England. When I returned yesterday they told me she is dead.”
“Is she,” Miriam responded. Her face showed pity but not sadness, and she spoke bluntly. “She and I were of an age, but I found her cold. It might have been my Arab blood that made her shun me, but I sensed something within the lady herself. Once Macbeth married her, we saw him less and less frequently.”
Again Tessa could have said more than she did. Looking at Miriam, one would think her ancient, as she herself had at first, but she was of her parents’ generation—old, certainly, to one not yet nineteen, but not ancient. Her summation of Gruoch’s character was acutely drawn. Tessa’s aunt had had no warmth for those around her except Macbeth himself. Despite the fact that Gruoch had indeed loved her husband, she had perhaps destroyed him with her love, demanding more of him than he could give and leaving him the creature Tessa had last seen: haunted, bestial, devoid of the human kindness that might have saved his kingship and his life.
No, Tessa corrected herself. Macbeth had chosen his own way and it would be wrong to blame his wife for his crimes. But sometimes people chose mates who brought out their worst parts. Through his own weakness and his wife’s, Macbeth had become a man of blood.
Tessa’s face must have shown something of her dark thoughts, for like a good hostess Miriam changed the subject to more neutral things, asking politely about young Jamie’s family and Banaugh’s health. When the meal was completed, however, she invited Tessa to accompany her to a “ladies’ bower.” She excused herself, telling Tessa’s companions, “We dine simply at Arleigh, and there is no entertainment most evenings. Still, the men of the household will share some passable wine with you if you will stay and share your experiences of the world with them.” With that Ayla pushed the lady’s chair from the great hall, and Tessa followed.
They ascended a small ramp that ran alongside six steps leading to a half-story section of the crannog. Ayla saw Tessa’s look of interest and explained the layout of the structure. “Beneath this level is the pier where you entered and a storage area that includes some underwater shelves as well as dry ones. It keeps things cool and slows spoilage, like a root cellar. That space allows a raised section on this level for Lady Miriam, who finds the damp painful.” They entered a small room in which a cheerful fire burned in a metal brazier. A window view opposite the doorway took Tessa’s breath away. The moon had risen over the tarn, throwing ever-smaller images of itself in gold on the gently moving water.
“It is beautiful,” Tessa murmured.
“Yes,” the lady agreed. “Some have wondered why I stayed on in Scotland when my husband died. There are many reasons, but that view is not the least of them.”
“It must have been hard for you,” Tessa said, thinking how much worse this woman’s situation was than hers had been in London. She had felt she did not belong there at times, but to be of another race, another faith! Among provincial Scots who had no understanding of her background, Miriam had probably been snubbed and criticized at every turn.
“Oh, somet
imes it was,” the lady admitted now with a dismissive gesture. “But I count it all worthwhile since I had the love of a wonderful man and a beautiful daughter.” As she smiled at Ayla, Tessa mentally chided herself. She should have guessed. The girl looked Arabic but dressed and spoke like a Scotswoman. Her retiring demeanor had caused Tessa to take her for a servant, and she had not identified herself as the daughter of the house. Ayla smiled shyly as she took in Tessa’s expression. “I misled you only to please my mother, who is sometimes overly concerned for my safety.”
“Ayla is my overseer, bailiff, and a hundred other things as well as my daughter,” Miriam explained. “But I am careful when strangers visit, lest she become the subject of wagging tongues. Since I have become crippled, as you see me, she has taken over most of the work as thane of Arleigh.” Her eyes softened. “Her life has not been easy, I know. There is nothing here for a young woman, no friends, no parties—”
“Mother, I want none of that,” Ayla hastened to reassure her. “I am content here with the beauty of the place, the people around me that I love, and my studies.”
Miriam looked proud, her rather hooked nose almost meeting her lips. “Later Ayla will show you her library. Do you read, by any chance?” Her tone was doubtful.
“I do,” Tessa was proud to answer. “My father believed in education, though my mother did not approve.”
Miriam sniffed in dismissal of such a mother. “We had only Ayla, but I have seen to it that she lacks nothing that would advance her education.”
Tessa smiled. “My father had six daughters, but I was the only one interested in books.” She added in half-hearted defense of her dead mother, “Most Scotswomen see little value in that sort of learning.”
Miriam’s face clouded. “It is sometimes so in my homeland also, but my father provided me with an education. Because my husband agreed, Ayla reads Greek and Latin as well as English, and she has mathematics.” Ayla, standing behind the chair, gave Tessa a look that conveyed the universal exasperation of young women whose mothers sing their praises to an embarrassing degree.
Tessa, obliging both her hosts, complimented them and changed the subject. “You wished to know more of Macbeth’s situation.” She quickly related her coming through Birnam Wood, the warning she carried to Macbeth that had sent Hawick scurrying away, and the attack, ending with the king’s order that Jamie take her to his village.
“I know the place,” Miriam said when she mentioned Dunangus. “It is not much. You are welcome to stay here with us if you prefer. It will be more comfortable.”
“I thank you for that,” Tessa replied, “but I must go on. The boy’s parents will hear of the English attack and worry about their son. Besides, I would not put you in any danger. Malcolm’s men might seek me here, but they will not suppose I would hide in a lowly place like Dunangus.” She shrugged, “I do not know how much danger there is. I am the king’s niece, but I have no power.”
“Oh, but you are wrong there,” Miriam interrupted. “I see a way in which you would be very valuable to the English. You would link Macbeth’s clan to Malcolm, solidifying his claim to the throne.”
Tessa felt a surge of panic: again to become a pawn in the machinations of power! The lady was not timid in sharing her opinion of the new king. “Disloyal puppy! To ask English invaders into our country to help him do what he could not do on his own. Whatever Macbeth had become, he was no traitor to his own people.”
Tessa was surprised that Miriam defended her uncle. All she had heard since returning north were complaints of his erratic behavior and rumors of deaths at his hand. Miriam continued, “I know what they say of Macbeth, and perhaps it is true. If he killed old Duncan, then it may be he deserves to die. But who is to say Malcolm himself did not kill his father? Was he not at Inverness too, and is that not what Macbeth claims happened?”
“Yes, but—”
“Don’t be too quick to believe rumor and gossip. Malcolm and Donalbain fled after Duncan’s death. Malcolm went to England to raise an army, but where did his brother go? It may be he stayed behind to begin a secret campaign against Macbeth, whispering lies and doing deeds that undermined his kingship.”
Tessa considered this, then shook her head. “I have seen him, though, seen the changes in him. He was quite distracted and plagued with guilt.”
Miriam nodded. “I witnessed his changed demeanor as well. Still, leadership is difficult, and everything a king does affects hundreds, even thousands, of lives. The strain may have been too much for Macbeth, and other forces may have contributed to his madness as well.”
Tessa’s mind returned to the three wild women who had teased both her and her uncle with predictions for the future couched in confusing terms. Had they been toying with them, trying to see how far each would go to make the predictions come true? Macbeth had certainly become obsessed with their words.
“We should not draw hasty conclusions,” the lady finished. “Macbeth was a good man when I met him twenty years ago, as good as his brother Kenneth, though different. They had served the old king well, the man Duncan killed to take the throne for himself.”
Miriam stressed the last words, reminding Tessa that Scottish kings were often as not born of violence. The lady gave her reason to believe in her uncle, to conclude he was innocent of some, maybe most, of what was being said of him. Victors would tell the story in their way, but she did not have to believe it. Even if she could not convince herself of his innocence, there was at least justification for Macbeth’s taking control of Scotland if Duncan had indeed grown weak and endangered the country. It helped to at least allow these possibilities into her mind, and she was grateful to Miriam for pointing them out.
“I am, of course, prejudiced,” the old lady admitted. “When I came to Scotland, only Macbeth treated me with true friendship, having seen a bit of the world himself. I continue to worship in my own way but allow equal observance of Christian and Muslim traditions. Macbeth took an interest is my religion, even read the Qu’ran. He said the God we both worship is the same.
“When Arbeen was alive, your uncle often came here to visit, saying it was a restful spot where war and bickering did not intrude. He loved the things I’d brought from my father’s home, the tapestries, rugs, and furniture.” She chuckled ironically. “Of course, I had no idea I was bringing them for a reason. At home they were merely familiar objects that I loved. Here, they serve to keep out the cold winds and the Scottish winters. But we did have good times, both here at Arleigh and back in Spain, when your father was there, too.”
“I’m so glad you knew them as they were.” Tessa thought of her harassed father, trying to please a shrewish wife and provide for six daughters. How carefree his days in Spain must have seemed.
Miriam smiled. “When Duncan killed the old king and took the throne, your father was sickened by it. That is why the three set off to see the world. They accepted Duncan’s right to rule, but Kenneth in particular found it difficult to do so. While they were gone, their own father was killed and his lands taken by some relative. When the news came, Kenneth vowed he would serve no man, though he would take no part in a rebellion.”
Miriam coughed with a dry, useless spasm that seemed to cause her pain. “They had a terrible argument over the situation, Macbeth feeling it was their duty to avenge their father’s death, and Kenneth saying there had been enough Scottish blood shed already. In the end they returned home, and Kenneth went off to the mountains. Macbeth won back his lands and progressed to the fore among Duncan’s generals. That is the most telling thing about the brothers: Kenneth rejected the world’s values and Macbeth embraced them.”
Tessa now understood the last piece of her family’s puzzle, why her father had had no contact with his only brother. Distance had separated them, true enough, but the real separation had been deeper, a difference in their understanding of the demands of manhood. Macbeth’s understanding, whatever one might believe about his actions, had led him to violence, very possibly
to a violent death.
Later Tessa went with Ayla to the library mentioned by her mother. It was indeed impressive, with many books Tessa would have loved to read had she time. As they perused them, Ayla touched the covers of certain favorites lovingly, and Tessa recognized the affection that many a lonely person naturally has for books, which could relieve daily tedium and transport the reader to other worlds.
“I have read this one many times,” Ayla told her, indicating a volume of Ovid’s poetry. Tessa was privately amused that a girl with such Arabic features produced a Highland burr similar to her own. “It has many verses concerning love between a man and a woman.” Her dark eyes met Tessa’s. “Have you ever been in love?”
Recognizing a need in the girl to confide in someone her own age, someone who might feel as she did about things, she answered honestly. “I have, but I’m not sure it was a wise love.”
Ayla’s round face dimpled in a smile. “Is love wise? One has no ability to choose. It simply exists.”
“That may be, but should it not be extinguished if it is a foolish love? If the other is unworthy of affection?”
Ayla’s brow furrowed in sympathy. “Is this what you experienced?”
“Yes,” Tessa answered, though her heart did not accept it still. Feeling a desire to share her misgivings with a stranger, one whom she would never meet again, Tessa went on. “I met a man who treated me badly—” seeing the girl’s horror, she hastened to explain. “Oh, he did not abuse me, but he betrayed me, separated me from my family.”
“From the king?”
“Yes. I went to England and lived there for a year. When I returned to Scotland, we met again, and I realized I loved him. I thought he loved me in return, but then he again betrayed me, plotting against my uncle, even planning to assassinate him.”
Ayla’s eyes grew round. “That is a serious thing, if you are sure he did so.”
“Banaugh and I heard two of the assassin’s men saying that ‘the Englishman’ had suggested a way to kill Macbeth. Jeffrey was the only Englishman within miles.”
“But if he is an enemy of your uncle, that does not make him your enemy, especially now that…things may have changed.”
“No matter what has happened to the king, I cannot forgive Jeffrey’s treachery. He pretends to care for me when we are together, but there are other women he also cares for. He changes, like a lizard my father once described to me that can change its color to suit its surroundings.” She thought of that first night she had seen Jeffrey, when he played the part of an insipid fop, and of the glimpses she had seen of the real Jeffrey, his anger when she read his journal, his frustration as he tried to remember his past, his determination to free her from Hawick’s clutches. There was good in him, but how could she forgive his plotting Macbeth’s death, his consorting with Mairie and Hawick, his betrayal of his own brother with Eleanor, his brother’s wife?
Ayla, having no experience with such things, had no comment, and Tessa turned the discussion. “And is there a special man in your life, Ayla, to make you speak of love?”
The girl blushed, her cheeks turning a deep rose. “There is a man I find attractive, but he does not notice me,” she said earnestly.
Tessa felt like she was back in London giving lessons to Mary in how to flirt. “Men can be very slow to reveal their attraction to a woman,” she said, frowning at their perversity. “Sometimes it is the female who must begin, for men are shy in love for all their courage in other things. How often do you see this man?”
“Every day.” At Tessa’s look of surprise, Ayla smiled. “It is Hamish, the one who brought you here. He seems stern at first, but he is very sweet.”
So the dour Hamish had another side, or maybe he was attractive to Ayla only because there were no other choices available. Whatever the case, the girl’s face beamed when she spoke his name, so Tessa continued her impromptu lesson.
“With a man like Hamish you might begin by asking for instruction in something. He’ll feel it his duty to assist you, and you’ll get to know each other in that way. Does Hamish have a bow? You could become interested in archery.”
The girl’s face crinkled in disbelief. “I could never manage Hamish’s bow. It is far too strong for me.”
“As it would be for a child, but they are taught with smaller, more pliant ones. Tell Hamish you wish to learn so you can entertain your mother.” Tessa rose and paced the room, warming to her topic. “It’s perfect, because he will have to stand very close to you to teach the proper technique, and it’s not a skill learned in a few days. He will spend time with you each day, and eventually you will overcome his reserve.” With a face and form like Ayla’s, no man could be immune for long.
Ayla was skeptical. “What if I am not very good?”
“All the better. It will take more time, and he will feel superior, being the better shot.”
The girl had one more question. “And if I become very good and can outshoot him, what then?”
Tessa grinned. “First, you’ll learn what sort he truly is, for if he can accept defeat at the hands of a woman, you have a gem among men. Then, you give the credit to him for being the best of instructors, and you have won him back again.”
“You are very wise.” Ayla said with a laugh. “I will begin tomorrow on my campaign.”
“Will your mother approve?” Tessa hoped she hadn’t added fuel to a fire the lady would rather see fading.
Ayla’s face sobered. “My prospects are not many, as you might guess. We are mostly shunned by the Scots as foreigners, some say witches. Our strong site and a few loyal retainers protect us, but most are older men who served my father. Hamish comes from a good family. His father was Arleigh’s friend, and he has been invaluable since my father died, keeping watch on what occurs around us and protecting our home.”
It was a not a confidence she would not have shared with most visitors, but Tessa had noticed the signs of prosperity, some of them Arabic, some Scottish. Evidently the marriage had united two well-to-do families.
“We keep to ourselves, so few are reminded of two women defending a castle. If Hamish and I were wed, it would strengthen our position, and our children would be more accepted as second-generation Scots. My mother would never force me to marry Hamish, but if we find we suit each other, she will be glad to have my future settled.”
Ayla’s manner was typical of girls of the age. Hamish was the man she should fall in love with so she had, as a good daughter and steward of her people’s welfare.
The girls talked far into the night, each finding in the other something she had lacked, a confidante, a peer, and a sounding board for ideas. They spoke of books, of people, and of the world, finding they agreed on most things but comfortable with the minor variances they found in their opinions. Ayla was more idealistic, having little experience outside her books, and Tessa was more prone to be critical, especially of the place of women in the world. She told Ayla of Eleanor, of her sister Meg, and even of Auntie Madeline, women with much potential that went unappreciated. Ayla listened but in the end disagreed with Tessa. “The talents of the women you speak of are not ignored. They run households, they raise families, and they gain the love and respect of those around them. They seem to have won your love and respect as well. Who can count that as failure?”
Tessa had to admit the truth of that, but she still wondered at a world where half the inhabitants’ voices were muffled by the very fact that they were women and therefore unworthy of serious consideration.
At last Ayla left Tessa to herself, giving her a warm hug and exclaiming, “I have enjoyed my time with you, and I feel I have known you my whole life. I am so glad you came!”
Tessa didn’t remind her new friend it hadn’t been her choice to stop at Arleigh and forgave the threat implied in Hamish’s invitation. She had learned much, and found two new friends as well.