Infinite Regressor Banquo

The golden sun rose to greet morning, shimmering sunshine through the castle windows and bathing it in a beautiful glow that seemed a little surprising for such an ugly castle. 

I awoke to Fleance grabbing my shoulders and swaying me side to side. I had placed a bed directly outside Macbeth's door and slept there last night, just in case he somehow broke out in the dead of the night. 

Another new morning, another day of peace. 

"Father, why is Macbeth's door locked?" 

My head spun with last night's liquor. I averted my gaze from the child's wide-eyed innocence, trying to push down the guilt that rose in my throat. 

"Fleance, I need you to deliver a letter to Macbeth's castle. It's for Lady Macbeth."

I drew a small envelope from my pocket and stuffed it into his hands. 

"What, I'm not your errand boy!"

"The errand boy is on vacation. Just go already!"

The letter to Lady Macbeth was to explain Macbeth's sudden disappearance, uh absence. I was borrowing the excuse of his grave injury that prevented him from travelling any longer.

In my first life, the string of murders by the Macbeths all began from his first letter to his wife. The witches' prophecy that put this damn story into motion.

This life would be no different.

As if from a distance, I heard the soft footsteps of the child grow further and further down the hall. 

Macbeth would wake up anytime soon. And realise what his best friend had done. 

Because of his betrayal in my past two lives, here I had to save him by the only other blade he knew, betrayal. 

From the other side of the wall, I heard the floorboards from his room creak, and the heavy mass of his steps as he staggered towards the door and closer to me. 

Slumped against the padlocked door, my tears made little dark spots in the carpet and silently, I moved my foot to cover them. 

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The doorknob turned and made a little 'thunk' as the three steel padlocks prevented it from turning completely.

"Banquo?" he croaked.

I was silent.

"Anyone there? The door is stuck." 

A great big lump in my throat formed as I listened to the sounds of stubborn metal in the hands of a stubborn man. 

"Will Banquo be upset if I break his door down…? His home is so run-down as it is…" 

Seriously, this is the first time I had seen such a polite hostage.

Knock. Knock. Knock. From the other side of the door.

"Anyoneeeee home??"

With a sort of gasp of exasperation and relief, I slipped the keys out of my robes and undid the locks with trembling fingers.

I couldn't do this. I really couldn't.

"I'm sorry," I whispered. Soft enough that I thought no one could hear. 

I heard a low voice reply, "I'm sorry, too."