Swanne had been my lady, and even the lady being Swanne, I think I would have sunk a knife
into the fat archbishop‘s belly for what he did to her.
Aldred called for wine and meat, then vanished into Swanne‘s chamber.
In the instant before the door swung shut I saw Swanne‘s white face.
It radiated sheer dread.
A kitchen hand appeared in due course with both wine and meat, and Hawise took them
in.
As she came out I heard the door lock behind her.
An hour or so later, as Hawise, myself and several of Swanne‘s other women had settled
on our pallets for the night, I heard the first shriek.
The good archbishop had patently finished his meal and was now commenced on the
evening‘s entertainment.
There came another shriek and, despite myself, I raised myself up on an elbow and
looked about the chamber. Surely Hawise or one of the other women would do something?
But all I received for my concern was a sharp reprimand from Hawise to go back to sleep.
The sounds of agony issuing from Swanne‘s chamber were not, most apparently, my
concern.
It continued for what seemed like hours—that sobbing anguish from behind the locked
door. Eventually I could stand no more and, despite the danger I knew it would bring to both
myself and to Damson, I decided to do something about it.
The other women, while pretending to be asleep, were actually still very much awake, so
I cast over them a gentle enchantment of peace and rest and they slipped quietly into slumber.
Then I rose from my own pallet and approached the door.
I put my ear to it, and heard nothing.
Perhaps they were asleep.
I risked all. I placed my eye against a slight crack between two of the planks of the door
and, again using just a fraction of power, widened that gap so I could see into the chamber.
For a moment all I could make out were shifting shadows, but then they resolved
themselves into shapes. A single lamp had been left glowing by the chair where Swanne had
been seated earlier and by its shifting light I could make out the bed.
They were not asleep at all. Aldred‘s massive form was humping over Swanne‘s gaunt
white body, back and forth, back and forth.
Her hands were to her sides, hanging over the sides of the bed, her hands clenched into
fists.
Aldred‘s tempo increased, and something made me look from his body to the shadow his
bulk cast on the wall behind the bed.
It showed not his form at all, but that of a monstrous, bull-headed man.
I do not know how I managed to tear myself from that door, nor how I managed to lie
back on my pallet as if nothing had happened. I knew I could not risk Damson by fleeing in
sudden panic into the night. I would have to wait until morning, then make some excuse so that I
could slip back to where Ecub, Judith and Saeweald guarded my own sleeping form.
I lay there all night, sleepless, terrified that Asterion would thunder from that chamber
and assault me.
No wonder Swanne appeared ill. No wonder she appeared changed. No wonder Silvius
had felt something so wrong.
Aldred was Asterion.
Aldred had Swanne. Asterion had her captive.
I remembered that day so many weeks ago when Swanne had come to my chamber and
questioned me about the movement of the bands. How she had said to me, I”ve taken Aldred to
my bed.
That had surely been a plea for help, but I had not understood it.
How she had looked terrified when I had said, ―Do you think that I am still Asterion‘s
pawn? Still dancing to his tune?‖
No, I was not the one now dancing to Asterion‘s tune.
Swanne was his pawn, by some means I could not yet understand.
I should have seen it. I should have seen it.
I lay there, sleepless, my eyes closed, and wept.
FOURTEEN
Swanne woke close to dawn, aching and bleeding, and found Asterion pacing the
chamber.
She rose, glad beyond knowing, and held out her arms.
He came to her, gathering her close, and soothed away the hurts and bruises that Aldred
had given her.
―How I loathe that man,‖ she whispered as Asterion carried her back to the blood-sodden
bed and began to make love to her.
―I know,‖ he whispered, moving sweetly over her. ―I hate what he does to you as well.‖
―I wish you would come to me more often,‖ Swanne said, weeping now. She was entirely
lost. Where once Swanne had known Asterion used Aldred‘s body to hurt her, she had now
become so dependent on Asterion she had forgotten it entirely. She was totally incapable of
realising that Asterion continued to use Aldred to hurt her so that Swanne would become ever
more reliant on Asterion, ever more willing to do whatever he asked of her, ever more vulnerable
to his subtle sorcery.
―I come to you as often as I can,‖ he said, bending down his face to kiss her.
―I adore you,‖ she said, cradling his monstrous head in her hands, loving the bestial musk
of his breath.
―I know.‖
―I will do anything for you,‖ she said, moaning now as he thrust into her, feeling his
darkcraft fill her.
―Indeed you will,‖ he said, and then they fell speechless as their moans and groans
consumed them.
Later, as dawn broke and they heard Swanne‘s women rise and move about in the outer
chamber, Asterion nuzzled Swanne‘s ear and said, very low, ―Mag was here last night.‖
―What!‖ Swanne almost fell out of bed as she struggled upright.
―She was watching you with Aldred, using her power to scry through the door. You did
not feel it?‖
Swanne frowned, trying to remember, but all she could recall was the agony of Aldred.
―Who is she?‖ she said.
―One of the women within Aldred‘s household,‖ Asterion said.
―I‘ll kill the bitch! I‘ll kill them all, just to make sure.‖
Asterion laughed, and stroked Swanne‘s naked back, feeling his palm bump over the
ridges of her spine. She was getting too thin. Way too thin when Asterion needed her to seduce
William into her bed. Perhaps he should pull the imp back a little, suppress his appetite a
fraction. Even given Brutus and Genvissa‘s history, Asterion doubted William would succumb to
a walking corpse.
―Shall I lay the trap for you, my dear?‖ he said.
She turned her face to him, and smiled.
That night, in the hour before dawn as monks and priests across Europe were filing in
their cold, huddled groups into chapels and cathedrals to sing Matins, a great fire appeared in the
sky.
FIFTEEN
Damson had gone back to Aldred‘s palace, and now Caela sat white-faced and trembling
before Ecub, Saeweald and Judith. Silvius was there also, having knocked quietly on the door a
few moments after Caela returned. He was standing by a chair, his face dark with worry as he
regarded Caela.
The words tumbled out of her mouth. ―Aldred is Asterion! Aldred is Asterion. He has
Swanne. He has forced her to his will—I have no idea how. Oh, gods, gods…Silvius…my
friends…what are we going to do? He has Swanne. ‖
Silvius sat down on a stool with a thump. He exchanged one shocked look with
Saeweald, then clenched his fists where they rested on his thighs. ―Asterion has Swanne?‖ he
said. ―Asterion has the Mistress of the Labyrinth? No wonder the Game has felt so wrong.‖
―The entire world feels wrong,‖ Saeweald said. ―The great fire in the sky is sure evidence
of it.‖
There was silence, several among the group shuddering. Everyone had risen this morning
to the news— Look! Look! Look to the sky! All London—all Christendom, surely—was jittery
with nerves. It was a comet, the more learned said, but no one had ever seen anything like this
before. The blazing fire covered almost a third of the sky. Who rode it? Some devil rider? A
fiend from hell itself? And what if it crashed earthwards?
Who had it been sent to destroy?
―Caela,‖ Saeweald said. ―Do you know anything of this?‖
She shook her head. ―The fire in the sky is unfamiliar to me. It has nothing of the land or
the waters about it. It is cold, angry, alien. Worse even than Asterion.‖ She gave a tight,
humourless smile.
No one returned it.
―There is disaster coming,‖ muttered Ecub. ―None can doubt it.‖
―We can only hope it prophesies disaster for Swanne and Asterion rather than for us,‖
said Silvius.
―What if it means Asterion is going to destroy the Game and all our hopes with it?‖
Judith said. ―Is it coincidence that on the night Caela discovers the truth about Swanne and her
new lover this fire appears hanging above our heads?‖
―Asterion will use Swanne to destroy the Game,‖ Ecub said. ―None can doubt it.‖