Gods Concubine by Sara Douglass

quite as it should be. An emptiness. In that first euphoric day after the Sidlesaghe had thrown me

into the river and I had remembered, I thought that if I felt anything wrong then that was merely

because of the newness of my awareness.

Now, in the days following that awakening, and, more particularly, during the long nights

following, I had more than adequate time to investigate.

That exploration unnerved me. I found a fullness of memory and experience, a growing

sense of power and knowledge, but at the very heart of all this…a cold emptiness. Not so much

that there was something ―missing‖, but that I could not determine what it was.

Only that I was slightly ―emptier‖ than I should be.

I consoled myself with the thought that the Sidlesaghes still had to come to me. I knew

that they had visions to show me, and words to share, and I thought that what was missing

(whatever it was) could be supplied by them. They would be the ones to show me how Swanne

could be persuaded to part with her powers. They the ones to show me the means whereby

Asterion could be subdued.

They would be the ones to show me how William…no, I would not dare to think about

that now. There was too much else to be accomplished.

On the fourth night after that of my awakening, I lay beside Edward thinking deep into

the early hours of the morning. Finally I fell into a fitful sleep.

I dreamed.

I walked the stone hall again, my stone hall, my special place. I studied it, seeing that

perhaps one day it could be a place of great joy.

Perhaps. If all went well.

I recalled that, not so long ago, when I had been Caela-unremembering, William had

come to me in this hall and so, when I heard the soft footfall behind me, I turned, a glad smile on

my face, thinking that it would be him again.

It was Silvius, and some of the gladness went out of my smile.

Oh, but he was so much like Brutus! He was as tall, and as dark, but not so heavily

muscled, and his face, almost a mirror of Brutus‘ own (save for that patch over his empty eye),

was gentler and far more weary than I had ever remembered my husband‘s. That gentleness and

weariness made my gut wrench, and endeared him to me as nothing else could have done.

Silvius was dressed as he would have been in his Trojan prime: beautifully tooled leather

waistband, soft ivory waistcloth, laced boots that came partway up his calves, and a variety of

gold and bronze jewellery about his fingers and dangling from his ears. His long, curly black hair

was tied with a thong at the nape of his neck.

Around Silvius‘ limbs—his biceps, forearms and just below his knees—circled broad

bands of paler flesh, as if someone had only recently taken from him the bands that had once

graced his body.

I saw that my fading smile had hurt him, and so I held out my hands in greeting, and

rearranged the smile upon my face.

―Silvius,‖ I said. ―What do you here?‖

He took my hands, one of his fingers reaching out to touch the bracelet on my wrist, and

smiled in answer to my own. ―Come to see this lovely, magical woman,‖ he said. ―Why, oh why,

did Brutus never appreciate you? Know what a treasure he held in his arms?‖

His hands tightened about mine as he spoke, and their warmth and dry softness made the

breath catch in my throat. Oh, he was so much like Brutus!

―What do you here?‖ I asked again, hearing the quaver in my voice and hoping Silvius

would not know the reason for it. ―What have you been doing, wandering the streets above, and

conversing with Saeweald and Judith?‖

―I am a part of the Game,‖ he said. ―Brutus left me to wander its twists eternally. That is

what I do here. I am part of the Game.‖ With his hands, he drew me in close to him, so that I

could feel the heat from his flesh, and feel the waft of his breath across my face.

―Gods,‖ he whispered, ―I am so glad to see you as you truly should be.‖

And then he leaned forward and kissed me, gently, warmly, lingeringly, on my mouth.

I was stunned at my reaction. Silvius had just dared far too much, but…oh, I had always

longed to have Brutus kiss me, and had hated it that this was the one intimacy he denied me.

And so, when Silvius leaned forward and presumed so to place his mouth on mine, I

sighed, mingling my breath with his, and opened my mouth under his.

He was surprised, I think, for he drew back, half-laughing. ―Lady,‖ he said, ―do not

mistake me for my son.‖

I let his hands go, and smiled apologetically. ―I am sorry for that. For a moment…‖

―I am not my son.‖

―I know.‖

To distract him, and myself, I lifted a hand to the patch over his eye. For a moment, I

hesitated, and then I lifted the patch, and winced at the shadows that I saw writhing within the

empty socket.

For two thousand years the Troy Game had been attracting evil into its heart, and for

two thousand years Silvius had waited within that same heart, where Brutus” corruption had

placed him. The shadows I saw within in Silvius”empty socket were the physical manifestation of

evil at the heart of the Game.

―You carry this about with you?‖ I whispered.

He nodded. ―I must.‖

I turned away, unable to bear it. ―I wish I could undo that which Brutus has done to you.‖

―Perhaps one day you will.‖

Distracted, both by his presence, and by the thought of what Silvius had been forced to

bear these two thousand years, I lifted my left arm and allowed the bracelet to sparkle between

us. ―I thank you for this. It was a fine gift.‖

―It did not make you remember.‖

―A little.‖ I allowed myself to look at him again. ―It prepared the way, I think.‖

He laughed softly. ―You are very kind.‖ He stepped close to me again, and touched my

hair. ―When you killed Genvissa, Brutus kept you imprisoned in a dank, airless hovel for three

years. And then for another twenty-four he took you back to his bed and tormented you. Oh gods, how is it that I had bred such a son!‖

Abruptly he turned away. ―Do you know,‖ he said, half looking over his shoulder, ―that

when my wife was pregnant with Brutus, a seer told me that I should cause the child to be

aborted, for it would be the death of both her and me.‖

He laughed shortly. ―She was wrong. He was far more than just the death of me. He

imprisoned me in torment, as he did you. He—‖

―Stop,‖ I said. ―Please.‖

―You still love him,‖ he said wonderingly. ―How can that be so?‖ Now he swivelled back

to me again. ―How can that be so when he caused you so much suffering?‖

―But you still love him.‖

His eye went very dark, and his face stilled. ―Oh, aye, I still love him. He is my son. My

flesh.‖ Silvius hesitated, and when he spoke again his voice was soft, pleading. ―Caela, will you

come see me some time, and allow me to come to you? I have been so lonely…‖

― Of course.‖ I would be glad of it, I thought, to speak with Brutus‘ father.

And it would serve both Brutus and myself in good stead, when it came time for

Brutus-reborn to make his peace with his father, and with himself.

Thus I reasoned, although, in truth, when I looked at Silvius, all I really saw was Brutus‘

face. It was a selfish foolishness on my part, but I had been a woman helplessly in love, and

despite who I had become, a part of that love still lingered.

―Tell me,‖ Silvius said, ―now that you are in touch with your true nature, and know of

where you must go—‖

The doubt at his knowledge of that last must have shown on my face, for he laughed.

―Of course I know what you plan, and where you want to go. I have sat in the heart of the

Game, remember? Do you think that I do not know? You want to complete the Game yourself,

with your lover, and make of it a shining thing, rather than the corrupt monster of Genvissa and

Brutus‘ construction.‖

I let most of my doubts go at that point, and laughed slightly. ―Is there anything you do

not know?‖

He made a show of thinking, and I grinned even more. Silvius had a sense of fun about

him that his son had never demonstrated. I felt doubly attracted to him, and now it was not