Gods Concubine by Sara Douglass

higher than it normally was. ―She has not opened her eyes and said, ‗I remember‘. She has

simply opened her eyes and been as she has always been in this life—unknowing, unwitting,

unremembering.‖

―The Sidlesaghes told me,‖ Ecub said, ―that all will come to pass as it should. So we shall

wait, my friends. We shall wait and we shall trust.‖

Saeweald was about to respond, but just then there came a knock at the door, and all three

seated about the fire jumped.

Glancing warily at Saeweald and Ecub, Judith rose and went to the door. She opened it,

peeked through the gap, then visibly relaxed and opened the door to the visitor.

It was Harold, looking almost as wan and exhausted as Caela did in her sleeping.

He walked quietly to the bed, held aside one of the drapes momentarily to look down on

his sleeping sister, then came over to the fire where Judith had rejoined Ecub and Saeweald.

Ecub began to rise, her eyes on a stool stowed in a corner, but Harold motioned her to

remain seated, and fetched the stool himself.

―My sister the queen?‖ he said softly as he sat down with them.

―She will be well enough,‖ Saeweald said. ―Her monthly flux was bloodier than normal,

but that is all that it was. With rest and good food Caela shall be well.‖

Gods, how he hated to deceive this man, but it was better that Harold not know of the

love and loss of his previous life. To enlighten would be only to torment.

―To so accuse her!‖ Harold said, low and angry, and it took the others a moment to

realise that he referred to Edward‘s hateful accusation at court. ―My sister should have babies

and love and laughter, but all she has is…is this! ‖ He waved a hand around the chamber, but

taking in with that gesture the entire palace and her life as Edward‘s wife.

To that there was nothing to say, so the others merely nodded.

Harold‘s shoulders slumped and his face suddenly looked old and grey. ―I wanted to

come sooner, but Edward detained me, first with this nonsense and then that, and then sent me to

interrogate some fool who had imagined he‘d seen a pair of dragons mating in the skies over

London during the afternoon. Now,‖ he glanced at the bed, ―it is too late, and Caela sleeps. Well,

I shall not wake her, and will leave my visit until the morrow. Mother Ecub, Judith, if she wakes

during the night, will you tell her that I came, and that I cared?‖

Ecub nodded, and Harold gave a small half-smile. ―Tell me,‖ he said, ―has Tostig been

here to ask after Caela?‖

Saeweald shook his head, and Harold sighed. ―Ah well, I expect he was detained as was

I.‖

He rose, made his farewells, and was gone.

Ecub sighed. ―Such a waste,‖ she said when he was out of the room, and even though she

did not elucidate on that statement, the other two knew precisely what she meant.

―And now,‖ Ecub continued, smiling at Saeweald and Judith, ―I will sit with the queen

through the night, and you two can have some precious time together.‖

Judith started to protest, but Saeweald took her hand, squeezed it so that she subsided,

and smiled at Ecub. ―I thank you, Mother Ecub,‖ he said. ―You will send for us if…?‖

―If there is any trouble, which there shall not be,‖ the prioress said. Then she winked.

―Enjoy your rest.‖

Saeweald‘s apartments within the Westminster complex were spacious and well

appointed, a sign of the regard in which Edward held him. Situated in a long, half-timbered,

half-stone building fifty paces from the palace and (for Saeweald), a comfortable one hundred

paces from the abbey complex, the building housed the domestic apartments of various court

officials, the occasional visiting nobleman and his family, and a few highly-placed servants.

Saeweald‘s quarters were at the very end of the building, and he had his own separate entry so

that he could make his way to the beds of the sick at all times of the night and day without

disturbing the other residents of the building.

Of course, this also meant that Saeweald had far more privacy than others when it came

to the comings and goings from his chambers.

Now, several hours after they had left Caela‘s chambers, he and Judith lounged naked

before the hearth on coverlets they‘d pulled from the bed. They had made love, but the greatest

familiarity came now, when Judith gently, lovingly, massaged soothing oils into Saeweald‘s

twisted leg and hip. This was an intimacy that he allowed no one else, the touching of his

deformity, and that Judith did so was a measure of the love and trust he held for her.

They‘d been lovers ever since she‘d come to court to serve Caela. The instant they first

met in this life, and knew, there had been such a sense of relief and of companionship renewed, that their first bedding had been accomplished with unseemly haste…in a stable, which had been

the first place they had been able to find that gave some privacy.

Except for the resident horse, who had been quite agitated and who had snorted his

disquiet for the fifteen turgid minutes it had taken the pair to sort themselves out.

Since that day, Saeweald and Judith found every spare hour they could to spend together.

The lovemaking was evidence not so much of lust, but of the deepest friendship and respect and

of shared purpose. To serve Caela and Mag, and to serve the land, by whatever means possible.

They were extremely discreet. Ecub knew, and Tostig of course, and Judith thought that

Caela, and perhaps even Harold, suspected, but (apart from the horse, who still watched them

warily whenever he saw one or the other cross the stableyard, and tended to utter panic when he

saw both of them together) no one else knew. They‘d even managed to keep their love secret

from Swanne. In King Edward‘s court, stiff with morality and piety, their discretion was just as

well.

In a world where Asterion strode unknowable and unrestrainable, their secret was doubly

important, for even this simple knowledge might be a piece of priceless information the

Minotaur could use at his destructive leisure.

Judith ran her hands down Saeweald‘s leg, leaning her weight into his crippled flesh,

massaging away tensions and cramps and aches. Saeweald‘s hip had been so brutally twisted

during his birth (and who had commanded that midwife‘s hands? Judith had often wondered.

Fate? Brutus‘ deadly hand reaching through two thousand years? Asterion? Genvissa‘s lingering

malicious humour?) that the ball of his hip joint jutted out beneath his right buttock, making even

sitting uncomfortable for the man. As a consequence Saeweald either stood, or balanced

precariously on the edge of stools and seats; when he rode, as he needed to if he was to get about

at all, he had to sit twisted on the saddle so that his left buttock bore most of his weight. Even

then, riding was often agony.

At least he could walk. Praise Mag that at least he could walk.

―What do you think will happen?‖ Judith said.

Saeweald, who was lying on his left side, his head propped up on a hand, watched the

movement of Judith‘s body in the firelight appreciatively. ―Hmmm?‖ he said.

Judith looked at him, then grinned. ―You would have me to be your slave forever, would

you not, physician? Bending over your body, rubbing away your aches…‖

―Are you offering?‖

Her expression sobered. ―Would it help?‖

In response he only held out his free hand, and she gripped it silently. They locked eyes,

and for a moment nothing at all needed to be spoken.

―Mag,‖ Judith finally said. ―Where is she, do you think?‖

Saeweald sighed. ―Caela would know…but how to make her remember? Ah! She cannot

be pushed, yet…‖

―Be patient, Ecub said.‖

Saeweald muttered something that Judith was rather glad she did not catch. She grinned

again, and was about to say something when, horrifyingly, the door to the chamber swung open

and a man stepped through.

―Stay,‖ he said to the startled couple, raising a hand, palm outward, a gesture that was

both conciliatory and reassuring.

Judith looked at Saeweald, who stared in disbelief at the man, then she unhurriedly

reached for her linen under-tunic and pulled it over her shoulders.

―Your name, good man?‖ she said.

The stranger‘s mouth lifted in an admiring smile at her composure. He was a strikingly

good-looking man of middle age. His long, black curly hair was pulled into a leather thong

behind his neck, a few strands escaping to trail over his broad shoulders. His chest was broad and

well muscled, his limbs long and strong. He wore nothing but a snowy white waistcloth threaded

over a wide leather belt and leather-strap sandals.

His face was stern and handsome, and not at all marred by the leather patch he wore over