Lady Macbeth's Daughter by Lisa Klein Read Free Book Online Page B

grasses. That night we build a bonfire to honor the god Lug. Caora and I are dancing with the shepherds when I feel a stabbing pain at the center of my belly. It spreads to my thighs, then down to my left foot. Leaving the others dancing in the firelit circle, I limp away until the sound of their merriment fades.
    Then, out of the gray murk steps a deer as white as the moon. She gazes at me with glistening black eyes that seem almost human and inclines her head as if beckoning me. My desire to follow her is like a hunger for sweetness and rest and drink all at once. I wonder if I am dreaming, but the pain stabs my belly again. I feel something wet between my legs, and looking down I see blood on my thigh.
    “Will I die out here?” My words seem to waver on my lips and fall into the thick mist. I sink to my hands and knees.
    The next thing I know, Caora is at my side.
    “You’re not dying, my friend. The goddess Banrigh has visited you,” she says. She takes moss, wraps it in a strip of cloth, and ties it around my loins to catch the blood.
    “Banrigh?” I look around in confusion for the white doe. She seems to have vanished.
    “She rules the four aspects of the moon and lights the four worlds: the future, the past, the visible now, and the invisible,” explains Caora.
    “The four worlds—you know about them!”
    Caora nods. “There are many of us who follow the old ways. Now you are a votaress of Banrigh, as I am. With our help she controls Blagdarc, the god who strives to bring darkness to all four worlds. But she cannot destroy him, for she relies upon him to conceal the new moon, keeping the Asyet-world hidden,” Caora explains. “We are not meant to see the future.”
    “Except for those who have the Sight,” I say, beginning to understand.
    “They walk a dangerous path,” says Caora, slowly shaking her head, “for they are Blagdarc’s sworn enemies.”
    I swallow hard. The pain still pulses in my belly. The moon overhead is shaped like an egg. While I wonder if she is waxing or waning, a cloud drifts across her face, and it is as black as night can possibly be on the shieling at the end of summer.

Chapter 7
    Dun Inverness
    Grelach
    I have been patient for so long it wears hard on me. Waiting has not made the foolish and ignoble Duncan a good king. Waiting has not brought my husband the renown he deserves. We are still rulers of this northern kingdom only. And I have all but given up hope of bearing a son.
    It has been three years since the day my lord arrived with news of how he defeated the traitor Macdonwald and earned Duncan’s praise. He hailed me as his dearest partner of greatness, and I was relieved that he meant to keep me as his wife, not spurn me for my fruitless womb. He spoke of meeting three fateful women on the moor who addressed him as thane of Glamis, thane of Cawdor, and—most exalted of all—king of Scotland! Surely those Wyrd sisters had more than mortal knowledge, for the lands and titles of Glamis and Cawdor soon fell to us. Like the passion of young lovers, our ambitions were aroused and we dreamt of ruling Scotland.
    Duncan came to our castle to celebrate the victory. I prayed that some mishap would befall him and my lord would that night become all that was promised him. But the visit passed without incident. The next year, when Duncan visited again, I looked in vain for signs of poor health. I questioned Macbeth but found him unwilling to consider what might happen if the king should die suddenly.
    “Duncan has honored me, and I have golden opinions from everyone,” he said to me then. “Let us not entertain these dark thoughts.”
    By his very denial I knew his thoughts, and thus I could not keep silent.
    “That crown sits on Duncan’s head like a bright confection. It may fall into your lap as easily as Glamis and Cawdor did—if you still wish to be king.”
    “I will not tarnish my good name!” he shouted in a fury. Then he left with his warriors to slay more