Macbeth the King Read Online Free PDF

the armed strength of Ross would be the last thing that was desired, in any such trap?
    On the other hand, Canute had been long making threatenings towards Scotland. Inheriting Denmark from his father Sven Forkbeard, he had conquered all England, some of Ireland, Norway, the south of Sweden and many of the Baltic lands. He was now claiming overlordship of Cumbria and Strathclyde, Teviotdale and the Merse, and likewise Lothian, all fairly recently incorporated into Malcolm's kingdom—although Lothian had been a Pictish province for centuries. So invasion was not improbable. But this was very sudden. Not that Canute was one to send out heralds before he acted. If it was true, the threat was dire, and MacBeth's duty clear. He put the mustering system into immediate operation, and sent his fastest birlinn northwards up the coast to Duncansby in Caithness, to enquire of Thorfinn—who, hopefully, had not yet set off on his hosting.
    Two days later the birlinn was back. The Earl Thorfinn had gone to Orkney, assembling longships. But his sword-father, Thorkell Fosterer, was still in Caithness, the messenger reported. And there was no question about the English invasion. The Norsemen, indeed, had known it was to take place for many days before the King's summons to the Mormaor of Caithness arrived—they had their own links with Canute the Dane, of course. To MacBeth's demand as to what Thorfinn was doing about it, his informant could only shrug. Thorkell Fosterer had been less than explicit.
    At any rate, MacBeth's own course was now clear. He would march the next morning. Meanwhile, he took time to pay a fleeting visit to Rosemarkyn.
    He found Gruoch and the boy at the boat-stand, preparing to go fishing for flounders in a coracle. She was sufficiently relaxed with him now to invite him to accompany them.
    "I thank you, no," he answered. "I have little time. We march at dawn."
    "March...?" Her lovely eyes widened. "March where? And why? To Moray?"
    "No. Much further. To the south. Canute the Dane invades. From England. All must rally to the defence of the land."
    "Canute!"
    "Yes. It is what we have long feared. All must rally. I came but to say goodbye."
    She searched his face. "So it is goodbye? So soon. This, this could be no light matter. Canute is powerful, fierce, with great armies."
    "That is truth. But Malcolm, whatever else he is, is also powerful and fierce. As able a general."
    "It may be so. But against the might of the English, Northumbria and the Danelaw, possibly even the Norsemen..." He could see the thought strike her, then. "MacBeth—what of Thorfinn?"
    "I do not know," he said, at his flattest.
    "He may side with Canute. They are of a kind. Almost kin, Vikings both."
    He shrugged. "None ever knows what Thorfinn will do, save Thorfinn! All I know is that he is in Orkney, gathering longships. And has also received Malcolm's summons. For Caithness and Sutherland. But ... he knew of the invasion earlier."
    "So!" She shook her head. "You could be in great danger, I think—whatever Thorfinn does. Must you go? Could you not send another? Even in this peril, I do not trust Malcolm Foiranach. Nor Duncan. Send one of your thanes, with your force."
    "I am Mormaor of Ross," he pointed out, simply.
    "You may never come back to Ross!"
    "You are too fearful, Daughter of Warriors!"
    "I am fearful because I am a daughter of warriors—too many of whom have not returned to their places. I fear, yes—I fear evil for you in this."
    He smiled a little. "You are not as was my mother, Donada nic Malcolm, burdened with the sight?"
    She waved that aside. "Of such I know naught. But I see grievous danger in this. Evil for you."
    'Take comfort from my mother's seeing, then. She dreamed that I would not fall by the hand of man until a forest itself rose up and walked! Birnam Wood, in Atholl. Until Birnam Wood marched to Dunsinane in Gowrie. So, perhaps I am safe enough!"
    "Do not mock," she said. "You will take care?"
    *1 take too much