Strange things happened in the days that followed Duncan’s death. The weather was dark and gloomy. The skies over Scotland filled with such thick clouds that noon seemed like midnight, and the whole country felt like a grave. A small owl was seen to kill a great falcon. Then the horses in the royal stables went mad, and ate each other.
Macbeth was crowned king. It didn’t take him long to blame Malcolm and Donalbain for Duncan’s murder. The fact that they had fled the country made it obvious, said Macbeth — they must have plotted against their father, and bribed the grooms to do the deed. Nobody argued with him. He soon made it pretty clear that no one was allowed to.
Many people were unhappy with the way things had turned out, though. Macduff refused to go to Macbeth’s coronation. And Banquo often found himself thinking about Macbeth’s sudden run of amazing good luck — Macbeth had everything the Weird Sisters had promised him. He was Thane of Glamis and Cawdor, and now he was king, too. But was it luck and nothing more?
Banquo had thought about it, and was now convinced that Macbeth had murdered Duncan. Everything pointed to it. And if the Weird Sisters had been right about Macbeth, perhaps the things they had said to him might have some truth in them as well…
Then one day, a messenger came with an order for Banquo to visit the new king. Macbeth was living in Duncan’s palace, so Banquo made his way there. He marched down its dark passageways, his mind racing.
Banquo entered the great hall and stood before the king. Macbeth sat on his throne, in rich robes with a golden crown upon his head. Lady Macbeth was on her throne beside him. Lennox and Ross were there, and a crowd of thanes and servants and guards. Banquo tried to keep his face blank. He didn’t want to show what he had been thinking.
‘Ah, welcome, Banquo,’ said Macbeth. Banquo bowed low. Macbeth stood up and came over to him. ‘We’re having a dinner party tonight,’ he said, taking his friend’s arm. ‘I’d like you to be one of the guests.’
‘Oh, do say you will, Banquo, please,’ said Lady Macbeth. ‘It won’t be the same without you.’
‘Your wish is my command, Your Royal Majesties,’ Banquo replied.
‘Wonderful!’ said Macbeth. He gave him a big smile. But Banquo noticed the king’s eyes were cold. ‘Tell me, old friend, are you going riding this afternoon?’
Banquo nodded.
‘That’s a shame. I was hoping you’d be here for my council meeting. You know how much I value your advice. He leaned closer to Banquo. ‘Have you heard what Malcolm and Donalbain are up to?’ he whispered. ‘They’re claiming they didn’t kill their father, and they’re spreading all sorts of wild stories. But we can talk about that tomorrow. Are you taking Fleance riding with you?’
‘I am, my lord,’ said Banquo. ‘And we really should get going…’
‘Fine, off you go then, old friend!’ said Macbeth, smiling again as Banquo left. ‘And I’ll say goodbye to everyone else until this evening, too. I’ll enjoy the party more if I have some time alone now.’
The great hall emptied. Lady Macbeth glanced at her husband with a curious expression as she left. Macbeth ignored her, and called over one of the servants. ‘Are those men still waiting?’ he whispered.
‘Yes, my lord,’ the servant replied. ‘They’re outside, at the gate.’
‘Bring them to me,’ hissed Macbeth, and the servant hurried away.
Macbeth sat thinking, his face dark. He didn’t feel secure as king. He had talked to his wife about it. Banquo was a friend, but also a threat. He was brave and clever, a man who knew how to get his own way. Look how he’d taken charge of things after Duncan’s body had been discovered! Besides, the Weird Sisters had promised Banquo’s children would be kings, not Macbeth’s — if he ever had any.
Macbeth knew that he had ruined his peace of mind for ever by murdering Duncan. But he hadn’t done it simply to hand over the crown to Banquo’s children when he died. No, that wasn’t going to happen. Not if he could possibly help it. For he too was a man who knew how to get his own way…
The servant soon returned, bringing two rough-looking men with him. Macbeth dismissed the servant and drew the men into a dark corner.
‘Have you thought about what I said yesterday?’ Macbeth whispered. Both men stared at him. They shuffled their feet. ‘You understand that it was Banquo who plotted against you and held you back, don’t you?’ said Macbeth. ‘It was Banquo who made sure you and your families would be poor for ever. What are you going to do about it?’
Of course, none of this was true. Macbeth had made up these lies to get the men to hate Banquo. He knew that would make it easier to get them to do what he wanted.
‘Why, we… we won’t stand for it, my lord,’ said one of them at last. He looked at the other man, and then at Macbeth. ‘We are men, after all.’
‘I suppose you count as men… of a sort,’ said Macbeth, looking them up and down. ‘But both mongrels and fine hounds are called dogs. Convince me that you’re real men, and I’ll give you a job that will solve your problem as well as mine.’
‘We’ve lived hard lives, my lord,’ said the second man. ‘And we’ll do whatever it takes to revenge ourselves on those who have done us down.’
‘Good,’ said Macbeth. He smiled, pleased that his plan had worked. ‘Banquo is my enemy just as much as he is yours. I could use my power as king to have him executed. But that would upset some of our friends. So I would rather, well… keep it quiet. That’s why I’m asking for your help…’
‘Just tell us what you want done, my lord,’ said the first man.
‘Banquo must die tonight,’ said Macbeth. ‘And make sure that his son Fleance dies with him. The boy’s death is as important to me as his father’s. Is that clear?’
The men said it was, and Macbeth sent them away.
Soon after, Lady Macbeth returned to the great hall. ‘What’s wrong, dear husband?’ she asked, her voice full of concern. ‘Why have you been spending so much time on your own? There’s no point in dwelling on the past. What’s done is done.’
‘But we haven’t finished the job,’ said Macbeth, turning from her. ‘And we’re in danger till we do. That’s why we’ve both been having terrible dreams every night. The dead don’t dream though, do they? They don’t ever have to worry again…’
‘Please, stop torturing yourself!’ said Lady Macbeth, holding his arm. ‘Just stay calm, and put on a good face for your guests tonight.’
‘I will, even though my mind is full of evil,’ said Macbeth. ‘And I hope you can do the same. Remember to be especially nice about Banquo. It’s important no one knows how we really feel about him. A dreadful deed is to be done tonight, at dusk…’
‘What… what is going to happen?’ whispered Lady Macbeth, her eyes wide with fear. She held a trembling hand to her pale cheek.
‘Never you mind, my love,’ said Macbeth. ‘You’ll find out soon enough. Come on, let’s get ready for the party…’ And he led her away to their private rooms.
Meanwhile, Banquo and Fleance were riding happily through the woods. They were enjoying their time together, not knowing it would soon be cut short. As the dying sun lit the gloomy clouds with orange fire, father and son came trotting down the road towards the palace.
Suddenly, two dark figures appeared in front of them. Banquo saw a flash of steel and realised they were being attacked! The men made a grab for the horses’ reins. Banquo pulled in front of his son, and drew his sword at the same time. But Banquo’s horse reared, and he was thrown to the ground.
‘Escape, Fleance! Run for your life!’ he yelled, as the men jumped on him. They stabbed him with their blades before he could get to his feet and fight them off.
Fleance didn’t need to be told twice. He turned his horse, and galloped back the way they had come.
‘This one is taken care of,’ said the first man. He kicked the blood-covered corpse of Banquo. ‘But the boy still lives, worse luck.’
‘You’re right, blast it,’ muttered the second man. He wiped his dagger clean on his sleeve. ‘Come on, we’d better go and tell Macbeth…’
A short while later, Macbeth and his wife greeted their guests as they took their seats in the royal dining room. ‘Welcome to you all!’ boomed Macbeth. He walked round the table shaking hands, patting backs, playing the friendly host. Then he caught sight of one of the men he’d sent to murder Banquo slipping in quietly.
Macbeth hurried over and pulled the man to one side, making sure his guests couldn’t see him. ‘There’s blood on your face,’ he hissed nervously.
‘It’s Banquo’s,’ replied the man, wiping it on his sleeve.
‘Is he dead?’ said Macbeth.
‘My lord, we left him lying in a ditch with twenty mortal wounds…’ whispered the man. ‘Any single one of them would have killed him. But we cut his throat, just to make sure.’
‘I’m pleased to hear it,’ said Macbeth. ‘What about Fleance?’
‘I’m sorry, my lord…’ said the man, hesitating. ‘Fleance escaped.’
‘That’s bad news,’ muttered Macbeth. He bit his lip. ‘My day would have been perfect otherwise. Ah well, at least we’ve got rid of the grown-up snake. The young one might be full of venom some day, but he can’t hurt me yet…’
Macbeth dismissed the man and walked back to his guests. But his face was troubled.
Lady Macbeth frowned. ‘We can’t get started till you give the toast, my lord,’ she said brightly.
All eyes turned to Macbeth. No one noticed a strange, ghostly figure drift into the room and take the last empty seat at the table…
‘You’re right, of course,’ said Macbeth, pulling himself together. He picked up a gold cup and raised it high. ‘Come, let’s enjoy this wonderful food. I wish you good health! How marvellous to see so many good friends here. If only Banquo were with us!’
‘He’s the one who’s missing out, Your Majesty, not us,’ laughed Ross. ‘Please, take your seat, my lord.’
‘But the table is already full,’ said Macbeth, puzzled.
‘No, here is your place, my lord,’ said Lennox, pointing at the empty seat.
Macbeth looked — and stepped back, horrified. He dropped his gold cup with a loud clatter, and groaned. The bloodstained ghost of Banquo was sitting in his place. His gaping gashes oozed blood, and his eyes glowed red.
‘What the…’ Macbeth moaned. ‘Which of you has done this?’ The ghost slowly shook his head, and raised a finger to point at Macbeth. ‘I swear I didn’t,’ Macbeth muttered. ‘Don’t stare at me like that.’
‘What’s wrong, my lord?’ Lennox said, uneasily. There was a murmur of alarm around the table. The ghost remained invisible to everyone except Macbeth. Ross and some of the others rose to their feet.
‘Please, don’t be worried,’ said Lady Macbeth. She stood up and went to Macbeth’s side. ‘The king has had these… little fits… all his life. It will pass, and he will soon be himself again.’ She pulled him away from the table. ‘What do you think you’re doing?’ she whispered fiercely. ‘You’re behaving like a frightened child, not a man…’
‘But I am a man,’ whispered Macbeth. He couldn’t stop staring at the ghost. ‘One bold enough to look at something that might scare the devil.’
‘What are you talking about?’ hissed Lady Macbeth. ‘Nothing is there. It’s just a chair!’
‘But he is there!’ said Macbeth. He pulled her head round roughly. The ghost smiled and nodded, but Lady Macbeth couldn’t see anything. ‘In the old days you could murder someone and they would stay dead,’ Macbeth muttered. ‘But now if you cut someone’s throat and send him to hell, he comes straight back to take your seat!’
‘My lord, our guests are watching…’ Lady Macbeth whispered.
‘I know,’ he moaned. He tore his eyes away from the ghost at last. ‘My friends, please forgive me,’ he said. ‘Let’s have another toast. Give me some wine. Love and health to all!’ He picked up his cup again, and his guests raised theirs, uncertainly. Then Macbeth turned… and saw Banquo again. ‘Get away!’ Macbeth screamed. He threw his cup at him, but it passed straight through, and the ghost just laughed.
The other people round the table were very spooked now. They were all on their feet, most of them backing away. Lennox and Ross glanced at each other.
‘Listen, everybody, please!’ shouted Lady Macbeth at last. ‘I’m afraid I must ask you all to leave! Forgive us, but… but the king’s fits sometimes grow worse when there are too many people around…’ She hurried everyone out of the chamber and returned to her husband.
Macbeth was sitting at the table with his head in his hands. He looked up when he heard her. He was relieved to see that the ghost had vanished.
‘Blood will have blood, they say,’ he murmured. ‘But I have waded so far into a sea of blood, it would be just as hard to turn back now, as it would be to keep going. And we have another problem. I’ve heard that Macduff is refusing to have anything to do with me…’
‘How do you know that?’ said Lady Macbeth, surprised.
‘I have spies in the houses of all my enemies,’ said Macbeth. ‘Don’t worry; I have a plan for dealing with him. And soon I will go to see the Weird Sisters again. I need to find out what else they can tell me.’
‘What you need is some sleep, my lord,’ said Lady Macbeth.
‘Yes, perhaps the ghost was only in my head,’ said Macbeth, deep in thought, ‘and will not dare to visit us when we’re in our bed…’
But as they left the room, neither of them really believed it.