knew then that whatever else happened, whoever else I loved, this man would always
be…would, quite simply, always be.
Later, after we had made love again, I looked over Harold‘s shoulder, and laughed.
―What?‖ he said, rolling off me.
Then he jumped, using his hands to cover his nakedness, and I laughed the harder, not
bothering to hide mine.
We were encircled by Sidlesaghes, all standing with great smiles on their faces, all
clapping, slowly, soundlessly, with their strong, brown hands.
―They are happy,‖ I said. Then I added, and where these words came from I have no idea,
―They are our children.‖
―Then they should be in bed,‖ said Harold tartly, and I rolled over, my sides aching now
with laughter, and the Sidlesaghes clapped the harder.
And then, yet more time later.
Harold had decided to ignore the Sidlesaghes, and began a long, slow, sensual stroking of
my body. I loved it. I sighed, and arched my back, and begged him never to stop.
―Will you do something for me?‖ he said.
―Anything,‖ I groaned, ―so long as you complete here what you have begun.‖
He lowered his head, and ran his tongue around one of my nipples, and I clutched at his
hair, and thought I would die with the strength of my wanting.
―When I am gone,‖ he whispered, lifting his mouth momentarily, agonisingly, ―will you
be my future for me? Will you watch over this land for me, and all those I should have been able
to protect?‖
―Harold…‖
―Promise this to me.‖
―Yes. You did not have to ask.‖
He grinned, moving his head just enough that his tongue could now draw the other nipple
deep into his mouth. For a long moment there was no talk, only the soft sound of my moan, and
his heavy breathing.
―Then my future is assured,‖ he whispered. Then he moved, pivoting across my body,
burying his hands tight in my hair, his face only inches from mine.
―The Sidlesaghe showed me many things.‖ His body was moving over mine now, and my
legs, of their own accord, parted under his weight.
―Yes?‖ I whispered.
―Of how Game and land are married.‖
―As you and I.‖
He smiled, but only briefly, his body moving very slowly, very teasingly atop mine. I
wriggled, trying to tempt him inside, but for the moment he stayed a breath away from entering
me.
―The Sidlesaghe showed me how you are Mag-reborn. ‖
―Yes.‖ That was more moan than word.
―And how Og one day, too, will be reborn.‖
―Yes.‖ Then I had a sudden, horrible thought that I could hardly bear, and my body fell
still beneath his. ―Harold—‖
He kissed the tip of my nose. ―I know,‖ he said. ―I know that will not be me. And I know
who it will be, and I am content enough with that. This is a long path you travel, my love. A long
way to go.‖
―I know. There is so far…‖
―All every path needs is but one step at a time.‖
I was silent.
He smiled, and the warmth in it was stunning. ―And all every path needs is a companion
with which to share it.‖
I was shocked at what he suggested, particularly because of the understanding he had
shown just before it. ―But you know that at the end…‖
―All I want is to share the path with you. I know I cannot be your destination. I‘ve always
known that.‖
I began to weep. What had I ever done to deserve this man‘s love…to deserve what he
now offered me?
―Oh, sweet gods, now I‘ve made you cry again.‖
I started to laugh through my tears, and, determining that I‘d had enough of his teasing, I
pulled him down and into me. ―At least you will never hear me say ‗No!‘ again!‖
―Oh, lady…how I love you.‖
Much later, as evening drew near, one of the Sidlesaghes wandered over, waited until we
both became aware of his presence, and gestured us to follow him.
SIX
They rose, reached for their clothes, then dropped them as another of the
Sidlesaghes—some forty or fifty were gathered there—shook its head.
The Sidlesaghe led them down the north-west face of the Pen, the side furthest from
London and closest to the Llandin, towards a small grove of trees at the base of the hill.
Harold looked around as they neared the trees. It was now almost twilight, the fading of
the light intensified by the close-gathering of the Sidlesaghes. Gods, there must be several
hundred of them waiting just before the trees!
He looked at Caela. She was close enough to him that he could feel the warmth of her
skin, smell the womanly scent of her rising in the coolness of the evening. He slipped an arm
about her waist, half-expecting her to pull away, then smiled as she relaxed against him.
Harold kissed the top of her head, then nodded at the Sidlesaghes. ―What is happening?‖
Caela gave a slight shake of her head. ―Something…momentous. Something good.‖
She shivered, and he knew it was in anticipation. ―Should I be here?‖
She raised her face to him, and smiled. ―I would not be here, if not for you. This, ‖ she
indicated the encircling crowd of Sidlesaghes, ―would not be happening if not for you. I think,
Harold of England, you are to be very welcome in whatever is about to happen.‖
―You are not afraid.‖ It was a statement, not a question.
―No. I am content.‖ She touched his bare chest, briefly. ―I am whole.‖
Harold‘s eyes swept over the Sidlesaghes. ―Where have they all come from, Caela?‖
―From the stones of England,‖ she said. ―From the past. From the future. We have to
follow them. Look, they are moving into the grove of trees.‖
He looked, and saw that she was right.
Caela took his hand, and they followed.
The stand of trees numbered only some twenty or thirty. They encircled a small rock
pool, its waters emerald green and as still as the sky above them.
―I had not known this was here,‖ Harold muttered.
―Nor I,‖ said Caela. She had stopped, looking strangely at the pool, then again she turned
to Harold. Under the trees it was almost full night save for a gentle glow that came from the
water, and it lit up Caela‘s eyes and teeth as she smiled. ―It is for us,‖ she said. ―Just for us. A
doorway.‖
―Into what?‖
Caela remembered a conversation she‘d had with Saeweald a long time ago, when she
had been Cornelia and he Loth.
―Into a light cave,‖ she said. ―Pen is a sacred mound, and I think that this evening its
sacredness is about to be revealed to us.‖
―Are you sure I should—‖
Before Caela had time to interrupt, one of the Sidlesaghes had stepped to Harold‘s other
side, taken his hand, and led him forward toward the pool.
―I think that might be a ‗Yes‘,‖ Caela said, and followed.
At the pool‘s edge Caela took Harold‘s other hand—he was now visibly tense—and
together all three, the King of England, a Sidlesaghe, and a woman who was about to become
something that not even she had yet fully realised, stepped into the water.
It was not wet. Rather, it felt to Harold like the soft caress of a warm breeze. Led by the
Sidlesaghe and Caela he walked forward until the water reached his chest then, at the insistent
tugging on both his hands, and with a quick, silent prayer in his heart, he ducked beneath the
level of the water.
It was a different world beneath, and yet similar. It was a reflection of the world above,
only smaller, more compact, and far, far more magical.
They stood in a green meadow, the grasses weaving about their knees. Above them shone
a clear sky—a soft grey—and before them rose a low hill.
On its summit stood something that Harold could not quite make out. It appeared to be a
building constructed of something so indistinct—almost out of focus—that he could not make
out its lines.
He felt a slight squeeze on his right hand—the Sidlesaghe had now let go of his left—and
found Caela smiling at him.
―Is this not beautiful?‖ she said.
―Aye,‖ he said slowly, again looking around. Thousands of Sidlesaghes were wandering
about this soft, gentle landscape. They hummed—a sweet, reassuring melody.
―Aye,‖ Harold said again, and, after a pause, ―What is it?‖
―The Otherworld.‖
Harold jumped. It was not Caela who had replied, but a Sidlesaghe, standing a pace or so
away.
―Am I dead?‖ Harold said.
―No,‖ said Caela. ―We are, I think, merely being granted an audience. Look.‖ She pointed
to the hill.
A figure had emerged from the indistinct structure atop the hill.
A small, dark, fey woman.
Caela gasped and, her hand still linked with Harold‘s, pulled him towards the hill.
By the time they reached the hill‘s summit Harold was out of breath, but Caela didn‘t