Forgotton Son

Writen by Ian Leavitt

There once lived a king in the land of Scotland named Duncan. All who met King Duncan saw him as a smart and powerful man. However, Duncan had one fatal flaw; he was too trusting, and this eventually led to his downfall. While staying at the home of his most loyal general, Macbeth, someone plotted against him. Macbeth wanted to take over the crown as three mysterious strangers had promised it to him. One fateful night, Macbeth crept out of his bedroom and murdered the king while the king slept. Macbeth took the right as king for himself; however others challenged his claims as the king.

Duncan had two sons; Malcom and Donalbain. After learning about the murder of their father, they feared for their lives. Although they were not certain that Macbeth had killed their father, they suspected him. Malcom decided to flee with his friend, Macduff, to England, while Donalbain fled to Ireland. Neither brother planned on seeing each other again. As Donalbain watched his brother's ship depart, he felt remorse for all that had been lost: he had lost his brother and his father and was now hiding from the land that he had grown up in and loved so dearly.

Sharp cackling followed screams of pain; then only silence filled the air. Donalbain stirred and awoke from his slumber. He stared into the dark night sky and said nothing, as did the sky, who stared right back at him. Sitting up from his resting place, he found that nothing had changed since he had slept last: he was still surrounded by water. His voyage to a new life in Ireland had only begun three days ago, but it felt like years had passed. The son of Duncan questioned how long he had been asleep, and felt surprised to hear the answer.

"Five hours," replied the captain of the ship.

Donalbain was to meet King William of Ireland and to make his living there. However, he now felt he would never arrive. A slow sigh of relief escaped him when he saw the land as Ireland. He was one step closer to his new home. The ship came close to the dock where the lowly workers, smelling of body odor and mead, tied it down. As the captain pressed a shilling into their palms, Donalbain slowly disembarked. A man, covered in hair, looking as if he hadn't seen sleep or bed in days met Donalbain as he first stepped on land.

"My name is Bruno, sir," he said, "I'll be your guide to King William's Castle"

By horse, the ride to the castle was slightly under one hour. As Donalbain entered the great hall, he felt dwarfed by its presence. The entrance opened up to a tall, magnificent corridor with enormous spires. At the end of the hall on a mountainous chair sat King William, Donalbain's new master and lord. A towering figure, William loomed above Donalbain, seeming nearly the size of a mountain. His arms were thick as tree trunks and he stood so tall that his nose could sniff the clouds. Donalbain greeted the great king with a bow but he was immediately told to arise.

"The Prince of the Scots needs not to bow before me," the king replied Donalbain arose and stood at attention. "You will join me for a feast; we shall celebrate the safe and healthy arrival of our new guest!"

Before the feast began Donalbain was shown to his quarters, a monstrous room, better than any he had ever seen. Donalbain unpacked his belongings and made himself comfortable in his new abode. He had just started to relax when he saw a woman pass through his peripheral vision in the corner of the room. He quickly turned, but the vision disappeared. Slowly, he crept over to the corner to investigate this phenomenon. As he came closer, the room seemed to grow darker. Staring at the corner, his eyes fixated on the area where he had seen the ghostly figure. Closer and closer he went, until he was nearly touching the wall. He almost leaped out of his boots when he heard a pounding on the door. Looking one last time at the vision wall, he went to answer the door. There stood a short, portly man with white, puffy hair that slightly resembled snow.

"The King awaits your presence in his great hall, sir," the stout man said in a rather nasal voice. Donalbain followed the man, but not before taking one last look at the corner. Nothing. He sighed and dismissed it as a trick played by the light of the window.

The feast was luxurious with meat and drink as far as the eye could see. Donalbain introduced himself to many of the nobles from the castle; however he did not eat much after his long day journeying the sea. As the food and drink faded away into the mouths of very hungry people, the king stood up. The great and majestic hall immediately grew silent. "I would like to welcome our new guest to my great castle, Donalbain of Scotland." As the king finished his last syllable, the hall erupted with cheers and applause, completely unexpected by the young Scot. Donalbain arose from his seat next to the king. As he stared into the crowd, he looked near one of the great tables and saw the same woman who had appeared before in his room. He looked at the king and then quickly back to the table; she had vanished again. Donalbain began to totter and sway and had to sit down.

"Are you feeling alright?" the king asked in a gruff tone. The room began to blur and Donalbain slipped into unconsciousness. The king called for doctors who took Donalbain to his room and put him in bed.

Donalbain did not wake that night. Instead, he had a dream—a most strange dream. Donalbain saw three dark figures hiding in the trees, waiting for something. He then saw two men, one young and one older, possibly father and son, approaching with a torch. As they passed the dark figures, the shadows pounced on them. One of the men, the younger one, somehow escaped and ran like prey startled by a hunter. The other pierced the silence of the night with a blood-curdling scream.

Donalbain's sight went dark. He then saw a room that he recognized as belonging to his family-friend, Macduff. Macduff's wife and children appeared when suddenly, the same three shadows appeared and ruthlessly slaughtered Macduff's family. His vision then shifted to a dark castle. Instantly, he recognized Dunsinane, his former home, palace to the king of Scotland. Then he saw the figure of a previous friend, but a present foe: Macbeth. His sight went dark again. Finally, the face of the woman he had seen previously in the night appeared, but this time she did not vanish. Opening her mouth slowly, she emitted a high pitched cackle.

Donalbain immediately awoke cold, but sweating, to a pounding on the door. Donalbain slowly rose to answer it. The same snow-haired man, dressed in his night robe, stood in the doorway.

"There is a messenger here for you m'lord."

Puzzled, Donalbain proceeded to the door where a young man stood in the doorway, a man not much older than Donalbain himself. It was Fleance, the son of Banquo. Donalbain smiled broadly to see a familiar face, but Fleance did not seem so excited.

"My father has been killed, as has the family of Macduff. Macbeth and his wicked queen must be the parties responsible."

Shocked to hear this, Donalbain immediately agreed to return with Fleance to Scotland. He ran from his room right into the quarters of the king, and requested a ship to return home. Reluctantly, the king agreed. Anticipation filled the next three days of voyage. Fleance informed Donalbain that his brother, Malcom, had arranged an attack on Macbeth's castle with the help of King Edward of England. Fleance suggested that they take on false identities to protect themselves.

"There shall be no time for family reunions. There should be no distractions."

As the ship made its way into the harbor near Macbeth's castle, Donalbain felt his heartbeat quicken and his mouth turn dry. He could see the troops encircling Macbeth's castle, and realized that he could not interfere with his brother's rulings. Because he must not be seen, he departed his ship and prepared for battle. Donalbain would take revenge on Macbeth for his father's death. He fell into the ranks of the troops in the Birnam Wood, making sure not to stand near his brother. "Every man is to take a bough, as to hide our numbers from the enemy!" Malcom shouted to his followers.

Donalbain did as his brother instructed and cut a large branch from a tree. The order fell to attack at all costs, and Donalbain rushed toward his previous home. The castle was sealed well. To his right, Donalbain spotted the great figure of Macduff bounding over the walls of the castle. Just then, a loud scream, a woman's scream, emanated from the confines of the great palace. The soldiers bashed and broke their way into the castle until the doors fell. Every soldier found his way to the central courtyard of the castle when the towering figure of Macduff appeared—holding the head of the horrible tyrant Macbeth by its snake-like hair. Cheers erupted and Macduff proclaimed Malcom the new king of Scotland.

Donalbain looked up at his brother, knowing he easily could contest for the crown, but decided to return to Ireland. He had liked it there; he was treated as a friend and not as a ruler. There was set to be a great feast to celebrate the death of Macbeth and the reign of Malcom. The party went on well into the night until all the men fell asleep. Donalbain stealthily rose in the night and traveled to the dock. He was nearly out of the castle when he heard a voice behind him.

"Good evening, my brother." Donalbain turned and saw Malcom standing behind him. They embraced and exchanged salutations. However, Donalbain did not want to change his mind from leaving. He explained to his brother why he must leave.

"If that is the way you feel, then, farewell, my brother." Malcom was clearly unhappy about Donalbain's decision. Saying nothing, Donalbain boarded his ship and began to embark. He suddenly stopped and turned to his brother.

"Farewell my brother—My King." Donalbain knelt before his brother.

"Arise, Lord Donalbain." Malcom received his brother's respect, as did Donalbain. Donalbain turned to the sea, and set sail for Ireland, looking back only to see his brother, his king, looking back at him. Donalbain concentrated on the moon and the stars to guide him, as he sailed away into the black night.