Read Online Macbeth and Son by Jackie French - Free Book Online Page B

years ago, but the sheets weren’t as old as that. They were hisgrandmother’s sheets, and had come with his mother when she married his father.
    How can I possibly know all this? thought Luke vaguely. But he wasn’t Luke. He was Lulach, asleep between sheets that had been washed on the rocks by the river, and left to dry and soften in the sun.
    Lulach…Lulach…
    ‘No, not Lulach!’ The cry came from the room next door. It was his mother’s voice.
    ‘I have no choice. I have to take him.’ The Mormaer spoke quietly, but the words came through the wooden walls nonetheless. ‘Thorfinn demands to see him. If I don’t bring him the meeting’s off.’
    Was Lulach dreaming or was he awake? Thorfinn, who’d killed his father…For a moment the dream wavered into his old nightmare: his father’s body, all black skin and grinning skull.
    ‘Why does Thorfinn want to see him?’
    There was no answer, or none that Lulach heard.
    ‘Thorfinn wants to take him hostage! Please, for pity’s sake! You can’t take Lulach! I can’t lose him too!’
    ‘No one mentioned a hostage.’
    ‘But if he asks—or demands—what will you do?’
    ‘Trust me,’ said the Mormaer gently.
    Lulach woke up properly. The room was dark, the moon outside hidden by the clouds. The rath was silent; even the voices from next door were quiet now. There was just the noise of a rat in the roof, and an almost-cough from the next room, like the sound of someone crying.
    But that’s silly, thought Lulach, rolling over in bed. Mother sleeps next door. And mothers don’t cry.
    He slept again. Suddenly a hand shook him. ‘Lulach! Lulach, wake up!’
    ‘What is it?’
    ‘Shh.’ His mother held a candle. The dawn was a grey light through the window. There were grey smudges under her eyes too, as though she hadn’t slept. ‘You must get dressed. Quietly.’
    She handed him his clothes. They were his best ones: the new léine Meröe’s girls had woven for him, the deerhide cloak with the sheepskin collar.
    Lulach began to struggle into his stockings. They were his best ones too, of red wool with yellow stripes. ‘Why?’
    ‘You have to go on a journey with the Mormaer.’ Lulach noticed she didn’t call him his stepfather. ‘A secret journey. No, don’t ask questions. Hurry.’
    ‘Have the Norsemen landed again?’ He tried to wake up properly. Someone had been talking about Thorfinn, hadn’t they? Or had that been a dream? Maybe he and the Mormaer had to go and fight the Norsemen again, just like they had last month, he thought hopefully. The Mormaer would do another trick and they’d be heroes.
    ‘No, nothing like that. Here, let me help you with your boots.’
    ‘I can do them. Will you come too?’ he added.
    ‘No. I wish I could, but I need to stay here. Someone needs to take charge with the Mormaer and Kenneth gone.’
    ‘Is Kenneth coming too?’
    ‘Yes. Lulach…’
    Lulach looked up from tugging on his boots. ‘What?’
    His mother hesitated, then bit her lip. ‘Nothing. Just…do what your stepfather tells you to. Understand? No matter what he tells you to do. You have to trust him.’ She said the words almost like a prayer.
    Lulach nodded. He wasn’t sure what he was agreeing to. Trust his stepfather? He did already. The Mormaer was a hero. He’d taken Lulach hunting twice last month, high on his big horse, and let him hold his deer spears. Now the whole of Moray knew that Lulach would be his tanist, as soon as he was fourteen and a man.
    The Hall was quiet as they crept down the stairs. The rath’s unmarried men snored on their pallets by the fire; someone coughed from one of the bedrooms on either side. A dog got to its feet and looked hopeful, but sat again at the Lady Gruoch’s silent signal.
    It wasn’t as dark outside. The sky was an arc of pewter-grey.
    Three horses were stamping their feet outside the door, their breath white in the cold air. One was Lulach’s pony, and the Mormaer and Kenneth were already on