1 Lileas
1.1 Kara Emery
p. 3
I loved James MacDonald. Whatever you think about me, make no mistakes about that. He was so proud looking; tall, dark hair, and he looked so dashing to his little girl in his black, green, and red tartan plaid. But what made me love him most was that he was my father. I think that the day I loved him most was the day he told me that I had to leave him.
"Lileas, me gerl, 'tis time you were married," he always spoke so quietly, "and you ken tha' some o' yourn friends are already. It's nigh time." I can still hear the tears in his voice. "Ach, well, I've gone and found ye a bonnie mannie. You ken the laddie Charles? O' the clan Macbeth? He's a lieutenant in the King's soldiers. Ach, I better see about that dowry o' yourn. You're a bonnie lass, Lileas." And with a wink, he was gone.
I think I loved my mother as well, but in a different way. Mary MacDonald was short, with blonde hair and blue eyes. She was more of a distant person, like me. After my father's talk with me, she met with me in my room.
"Lillian, dearest daughter," she was English and spoke my name that way, "since you are getting married in a few months, I decided it was time for us to have a talk. When you are married, you must control your husband. If you do not do this, you will live in torture. If he thinks he can control you, he will look down upon you, and make you feel as if you are not worth anything. But, if you can control him, he will respect you, and let you run the household as you please. Also, have both daughters and sons, so that the both of you will be happy with your children. Your father dotes on you and I on your brother. This may be switched with you and your husband, but it matters not. Above all, make sure you have enough ambition for the both of you if he has none, or else you will get nowhere in life." My mother's words were something of a mystery to me then, and are somewhat now.
And then there was Charlie, my husband-to-be. His name was Charles, but I called him Charlie and he called me Lila. I had met him at previous social gatherings, strictly supervised, of course, and had found in him a good companion. He was tall, with curly red hair and a very young-looking face. He was also very muscular, but almost shy, and blushed in a strangely adorable way. He wasn't the smartest of the boys I knew, but the others had always kept their distance, preferring to spend their time with the girls who laughed too loud, I am very a quiet person, and would sneak off with them to be alone. Charlie and I just seemed to click. The best part was he had a genus for warfare, and with the right steps might have a good career in the army.
So here I am a tall, fifteen-year-old girl with deep-set, burning, green eyes and long, brown hair standing in my wedding dress. My mother and her maid say I look beautiful, and I don't doubt them. With my figure, any dress works with me, and this one had been specially made for the occasion. Charlie, too, looks well in his freshly cleaned tartan costume. He sees me, and his jaw drops to the lowest I have ever seen it go.
"Ye look well, too," I say with a smile.
"It's a sorry lad I am, but ye look lovely, Lileas."
"Thank ye, Charles." He blushes at the sound of his full name, but if he could call me by my full name, I could call him by his.
(((
Oddly enough, she excites, scares and comforts me at the same time. Look at her, so innocent looking with her eyes closed, dozing there, next to me. It's her eyes that show the fierceness within her. It gives her a sort of wild beauty. I expected this night to be a lot of things, but what it was, I was unprepared for. The control and passion she showed, it was chilling. And yet I felt secure, maybe because I trust her and her counsel so much. She is very smart. Her hair is so soft and silky. I have awakened her. My God, is she striking.
(((
The midwife hands my children to me. "A gel and a bonnie mannie, there. Jus' wha' ye been wantin', dearie." Can you tell she is a peasant? "And a 'bonnier' pair you never did see." My mother says back. She is old now, my father has passed away and she lives with us, though not for long.
I awake, a fortnight later, and they tell me that both the children and I had been sick. "With cholera. Only you made it." Charlie is standing over me, with a relieved expression on his face.
"The doctor said ye might nivver awaken. But I told 'im ye'd pull through for us, now dinna I? And I was right, weren't I Lila?" He and the maid fade into blackness.
When I awaken I ask after the children. "Ya dinna remember? They've gone, Lileas," Charlie tells me. I don't cry, but I stay in bed for the next week, not speaking.
A month or two after Charlie was promoted to captain, I decide to get him made general. The current one is getting old, and in Charlie's eyes, senile. It is time to get rid of him. I talk it over with Charlie. He agrees, only slightly surprised by my initiative.
"I do hope we can do this, Lila, if it dinna work, I may be stuck with captain fer all tim, ya ken."
"Aye, but we ha' to take the chance." So I invite all of father's old military friends, at least the ones left in power, and all of Charlie's superiors to a gathering. Being the good hostess that I am, I mingle, ending up with a mixed group of friends and superiors.
"So tell me truly, now," I say charmingly, addressing one of Charlie's betters, "how is my Charles doing? He tells me naught of these boys playing 'soldier'."
"Well, now," one replies, "for a boy playing 'soldier,' tha' captain o' yourn does mighty well on his campaigns, that he does." The others nod their assent.
"Is he now? Tell me, what has my husband done to deserve praise like tha'?" As the fools continue talking about Charlie's feats, they lure themselves and others into thinking what a great man he is. After a few more ploys like these, the old general is replaced by two men: John Banquo, a captain friend of Charlie's, and Charlie himself.
Sometimes I worry about my Charlie. He has written me telling me that witches told him that he would be thane of Cawdor, and he is now. Glamis and Cawdor, and soon to be king, if these women are to be believed. To have him back here with me, instead of finishing his campaign against the Norwegians, would be wonderful; one never knows what rash thing he could do on his own. I need to think. We cannot just sit and wait for Duncan to die, and Malcolm has been named his successor. Duncan needs to die now, and his sons need to be blamed. But what to do? A messenger approaches. I ask him what his message is.
"The King come here tonight."
Tonight! That leaves little planning time for me. Fate has delivered him into our hands; the deed must be done tonight. I will be Queen.
When Charlie comes home, we will speak and make our plans. Never shall Duncan see the sun again after today. My mind is stuck, we will not fail.
I made sure that both Duncan and his guards were drunk tonight. They shall sleep the soundest of all. The daggers are ready so that Charlie will see them. I looked in upon Duncan as he slept. I had almost made up my mind to kill him myself, but when the ray of light from the hall hit his face, I saw my father, lying there asleep. They both had similar features, and hair. The two both sleep the same, on their sides, with one arm off the bed. I could not kill him. I loved my father.
"I ha' dune the deed." Charlie has interrupted my thoughts. We go to bed now, so as not to be seen and suspected when Duncan is found, later. I will sleep well tonight.
That stupid husband of mine did something right. In killing the guards, not only did his prove his loyalty, but also now we can easily throw suspicion on Malcolm and Donalbain for hiring them to kill Duncan. Luckily for me, I can fake fainting well.
The fools! By running away, they only made themselves look guiltier. Now Charles Macbeth will be king, and I will rule Scotland.
Every day, more nobles join Malcolm in England. I do my best to retain the loyalty of those left. Charlie does not know it, but there are other ways of keeping a man's loyalty, especially for a woman such as me. Among them, Ross is the most powerful, and fortunately for me, the most handsome and the most womanizing. 'Tis true what they say about men wearing nothing under their kilts.
Men like Ross are fools, they care naught about honor, but about what girl they are in lust with at the moment. Even now, as he kisses me and undresses me, he does not love me. I put my hand on his shoulder. My hand…it bears the blood of the lives of many. Duncan, Banquo, Macduff's family…Suddenly I can see spots of blood on it. They turn their shape into skulls as I stare in wide-eyed horror.
"No…NO…NO!" I scream, pushing Ross away.
"Wha' 'tis it, milady?' he asks, confused.
"Get those off'n me," I say, jumping out of the bed, to the washstand. I try to wash them off, but they remain.
"Milady…" But I do not hear him. I only see the blood constantly dripping off my hands, and me unable to get it off. In time, he leaves me.
The blood will not leave me. It stays with me for a long time. I know that they are watching me, but they do not know I know. They think that I am crazy. I am not crazy; the blood is there, even if no one can see it. Charlie…I must tell Charlie that Malcolm is here, that even now he is moving the trees closer…ever closer…Charlie…The window is open…Malcolm is coming…Charlie…I must go to him…
(((
So Lila, will you wait for me? I hope you are better off than I am now. Poor girl, you loved me until the end, didn't you? Even when you gave yourself to Ross, you were doing it for me, to save me from Malcolm. Well, Malcolm is here, and your love did nothing. You should have been a man; you would have made a better king than I. Wait for me, Lila, I have one last battle to fight…I love you.
1.1 Kara Emery
p. 3
I loved James MacDonald. Whatever you think about me, make no mistakes about that. He was so proud looking; tall, dark hair, and he looked so dashing to his little girl in his black, green, and red tartan plaid. But what made me love him most was that he was my father. I think that the day I loved him most was the day he told me that I had to leave him.
"Lileas, me gerl, 'tis time you were married," he always spoke so quietly, "and you ken tha' some o' yourn friends are already. It's nigh time." I can still hear the tears in his voice. "Ach, well, I've gone and found ye a bonnie mannie. You ken the laddie Charles? O' the clan Macbeth? He's a lieutenant in the King's soldiers. Ach, I better see about that dowry o' yourn. You're a bonnie lass, Lileas." And with a wink, he was gone.
I think I loved my mother as well, but in a different way. Mary MacDonald was short, with blonde hair and blue eyes. She was more of a distant person, like me. After my father's talk with me, she met with me in my room.
"Lillian, dearest daughter," she was English and spoke my name that way, "since you are getting married in a few months, I decided it was time for us to have a talk. When you are married, you must control your husband. If you do not do this, you will live in torture. If he thinks he can control you, he will look down upon you, and make you feel as if you are not worth anything. But, if you can control him, he will respect you, and let you run the household as you please. Also, have both daughters and sons, so that the both of you will be happy with your children. Your father dotes on you and I on your brother. This may be switched with you and your husband, but it matters not. Above all, make sure you have enough ambition for the both of you if he has none, or else you will get nowhere in life." My mother's words were something of a mystery to me then, and are somewhat now.
And then there was Charlie, my husband-to-be. His name was Charles, but I called him Charlie and he called me Lila. I had met him at previous social gatherings, strictly supervised, of course, and had found in him a good companion. He was tall, with curly red hair and a very young-looking face. He was also very muscular, but almost shy, and blushed in a strangely adorable way. He wasn't the smartest of the boys I knew, but the others had always kept their distance, preferring to spend their time with the girls who laughed too loud, I am very a quiet person, and would sneak off with them to be alone. Charlie and I just seemed to click. The best part was he had a genus for warfare, and with the right steps might have a good career in the army.
So here I am a tall, fifteen-year-old girl with deep-set, burning, green eyes and long, brown hair standing in my wedding dress. My mother and her maid say I look beautiful, and I don't doubt them. With my figure, any dress works with me, and this one had been specially made for the occasion. Charlie, too, looks well in his freshly cleaned tartan costume. He sees me, and his jaw drops to the lowest I have ever seen it go.
"Ye look well, too," I say with a smile.
"It's a sorry lad I am, but ye look lovely, Lileas."
"Thank ye, Charles." He blushes at the sound of his full name, but if he could call me by my full name, I could call him by his.
(((
Oddly enough, she excites, scares and comforts me at the same time. Look at her, so innocent looking with her eyes closed, dozing there, next to me. It's her eyes that show the fierceness within her. It gives her a sort of wild beauty. I expected this night to be a lot of things, but what it was, I was unprepared for. The control and passion she showed, it was chilling. And yet I felt secure, maybe because I trust her and her counsel so much. She is very smart. Her hair is so soft and silky. I have awakened her. My God, is she striking.
(((
The midwife hands my children to me. "A gel and a bonnie mannie, there. Jus' wha' ye been wantin', dearie." Can you tell she is a peasant? "And a 'bonnier' pair you never did see." My mother says back. She is old now, my father has passed away and she lives with us, though not for long.
I awake, a fortnight later, and they tell me that both the children and I had been sick. "With cholera. Only you made it." Charlie is standing over me, with a relieved expression on his face.
"The doctor said ye might nivver awaken. But I told 'im ye'd pull through for us, now dinna I? And I was right, weren't I Lila?" He and the maid fade into blackness.
When I awaken I ask after the children. "Ya dinna remember? They've gone, Lileas," Charlie tells me. I don't cry, but I stay in bed for the next week, not speaking.
A month or two after Charlie was promoted to captain, I decide to get him made general. The current one is getting old, and in Charlie's eyes, senile. It is time to get rid of him. I talk it over with Charlie. He agrees, only slightly surprised by my initiative.
"I do hope we can do this, Lila, if it dinna work, I may be stuck with captain fer all tim, ya ken."
"Aye, but we ha' to take the chance." So I invite all of father's old military friends, at least the ones left in power, and all of Charlie's superiors to a gathering. Being the good hostess that I am, I mingle, ending up with a mixed group of friends and superiors.
"So tell me truly, now," I say charmingly, addressing one of Charlie's betters, "how is my Charles doing? He tells me naught of these boys playing 'soldier'."
"Well, now," one replies, "for a boy playing 'soldier,' tha' captain o' yourn does mighty well on his campaigns, that he does." The others nod their assent.
"Is he now? Tell me, what has my husband done to deserve praise like tha'?" As the fools continue talking about Charlie's feats, they lure themselves and others into thinking what a great man he is. After a few more ploys like these, the old general is replaced by two men: John Banquo, a captain friend of Charlie's, and Charlie himself.
Sometimes I worry about my Charlie. He has written me telling me that witches told him that he would be thane of Cawdor, and he is now. Glamis and Cawdor, and soon to be king, if these women are to be believed. To have him back here with me, instead of finishing his campaign against the Norwegians, would be wonderful; one never knows what rash thing he could do on his own. I need to think. We cannot just sit and wait for Duncan to die, and Malcolm has been named his successor. Duncan needs to die now, and his sons need to be blamed. But what to do? A messenger approaches. I ask him what his message is.
"The King come here tonight."
Tonight! That leaves little planning time for me. Fate has delivered him into our hands; the deed must be done tonight. I will be Queen.
When Charlie comes home, we will speak and make our plans. Never shall Duncan see the sun again after today. My mind is stuck, we will not fail.
I made sure that both Duncan and his guards were drunk tonight. They shall sleep the soundest of all. The daggers are ready so that Charlie will see them. I looked in upon Duncan as he slept. I had almost made up my mind to kill him myself, but when the ray of light from the hall hit his face, I saw my father, lying there asleep. They both had similar features, and hair. The two both sleep the same, on their sides, with one arm off the bed. I could not kill him. I loved my father.
"I ha' dune the deed." Charlie has interrupted my thoughts. We go to bed now, so as not to be seen and suspected when Duncan is found, later. I will sleep well tonight.
That stupid husband of mine did something right. In killing the guards, not only did his prove his loyalty, but also now we can easily throw suspicion on Malcolm and Donalbain for hiring them to kill Duncan. Luckily for me, I can fake fainting well.
The fools! By running away, they only made themselves look guiltier. Now Charles Macbeth will be king, and I will rule Scotland.
Every day, more nobles join Malcolm in England. I do my best to retain the loyalty of those left. Charlie does not know it, but there are other ways of keeping a man's loyalty, especially for a woman such as me. Among them, Ross is the most powerful, and fortunately for me, the most handsome and the most womanizing. 'Tis true what they say about men wearing nothing under their kilts.
Men like Ross are fools, they care naught about honor, but about what girl they are in lust with at the moment. Even now, as he kisses me and undresses me, he does not love me. I put my hand on his shoulder. My hand…it bears the blood of the lives of many. Duncan, Banquo, Macduff's family…Suddenly I can see spots of blood on it. They turn their shape into skulls as I stare in wide-eyed horror.
"No…NO…NO!" I scream, pushing Ross away.
"Wha' 'tis it, milady?' he asks, confused.
"Get those off'n me," I say, jumping out of the bed, to the washstand. I try to wash them off, but they remain.
"Milady…" But I do not hear him. I only see the blood constantly dripping off my hands, and me unable to get it off. In time, he leaves me.
The blood will not leave me. It stays with me for a long time. I know that they are watching me, but they do not know I know. They think that I am crazy. I am not crazy; the blood is there, even if no one can see it. Charlie…I must tell Charlie that Malcolm is here, that even now he is moving the trees closer…ever closer…Charlie…The window is open…Malcolm is coming…Charlie…I must go to him…
(((
So Lila, will you wait for me? I hope you are better off than I am now. Poor girl, you loved me until the end, didn't you? Even when you gave yourself to Ross, you were doing it for me, to save me from Malcolm. Well, Malcolm is here, and your love did nothing. You should have been a man; you would have made a better king than I. Wait for me, Lila, I have one last battle to fight…I love you.