She looks back and forth from one to the other of the men kneeling in front of her.
“Be my fellow in travel,” Fleance says.
“Be my daughter,” Lord Macduff begs.
“Be my princess.” King Malcolm squeezes her fingers.
The crowd seems to be holding its breath, waiting for her decision. She looks around, wondering what to do.
Which offer should she take? Any of these lives would be a good one.
Then she catches sight of Pod, Nettle, and Lisette at the back of the hall. Their faces look split open with delight at her good fortune.
Then the sense of King Malcolm’s words sinks into her brain. I am a wealthy woman. I have lands and money of my own. That means I have the power to create my own place, a kingdom within this kingdom. I can make a place where Nettle can have a cozy cottage and practice her herb craft safe from the gossip of nosy, ignorant villagerswho regard her as a witch. I can make a place where Pod will no longer be teased and tormented for his slow mind but will be honored for the loving, loyal boy he truly is. A place where Lisette can lord over my kitchen, a place where I can hire tutors and learn to read in dozens of languages, a place where I can have a library of my own, a place where abandoned children can come and be safe— abandoned children like Pod and me and—
The face of her mother flickers into her mind.
I do not forgive her, but she, too, was abandoned in her way. And whether I like it or not, part of her will always be part of me. But Nettle, too, is my mother, and Helga and Lisette. They are all my mothers. Yes! Yes! It is as clear as water—we all have many mothers—and many fathers, too, and parts of them are always inside us, but it goes the other way as well, for inside all of them is a small part that is an abandoned, frightened child, and more important than killing a king is making the world safe for all abandoned children, and now I have a place and the money and power to make a safe world within this world for those I love to learn and grow.
I smile affectionately at the three good men in front of me.
“I thank you, sirs, but I must refuse all your kind offers.”
Then I direct my smile at my family in the back of the hall.
“ ’Tis time to go home.”
A U T H O R ’ S N O T E
EARLY IN MY RESEARCH, I realized that I could be faithful either to history or to William Shakespeare’s historically inaccurate version of Macbeth’s story, but I could not be faithful to both. Because I was initially inspired by Shakespeare’s play, whenever history and drama diverged I followed the path blazed by Shakespeare. In order to stay true to the world of his play, I took liberties with medieval Scotland’s chronology, geography, customs, and characters. I apologize for all historically inaccurate details in this novel.
A C K N O W L E D G M E N T S
THE BEST WAY to develop intimacy with a play is to teach it or direct it. Therefore, I want to thank the hundreds of students in my English classes at Providence and St. Xavier High Schools who accompanied me in my yearly exploration of William Shakespeare’s Macbeth. Every time I taught the play, I discovered something new. In addition, I would also like to thank the casts of my four productions of Macbeth. Each set of actors brought new insights and enthusiasm to the play and helped me look at the script in a different way.
I also thank the Antioch Writer’s Workshop for inspiring me to believe in both myself as a writer and my story. The wise observations of my editors, Greer Hendricks and Carolyn Caughey, strengthened my manuscript immeasurably while their warm enthusiasm strengthened me. Finally, I am especially grateful to my agent, Fred Morris, whose wizardry helped turn a few pages of possibility into a published book.
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