Gods Concubine by Sara Douglass

Caela groaned, and made as if to step forward, but the Sidlesaghe seized her arm.

―No! Touch him and you kill him!‖

She twisted about, partly trying to tear herself free from his grasp, partly in an agony of

emotion. ―Why? Why cannot I go to him? Why?‖

―Because you are not yet strong enough to heal him, or to help him in any manner. All

you will do is push him towards the final precipice. One day you will be able to aid him, and

midwive him through his rebirth, but you are not strong enough to do it now.‖

Caela sobbed, her knees slowly bending until she sank to the ground, and the Sidlesaghe

let her go.

―Can I not just touch him?‖ Caela said through her tears. ―Just lay a hand to his face, and

kiss him?‖

―No,‖ the Sidlesaghe said, then laid his hand on the crown of her head. ―He knows you

are here. It is enough for him for the moment. It is enough that he knows you are reborn, and are growing stronger.‖

Caela lowered her face into her hands and cried disconsolately, rocking back and forth.

The Sidlesaghe, his own grey-brown eyes filled with tears, kept his hand on her head, letting her

cry out her sorrow.

―I want to touch him,‖ Caela said once more, but the Sidlesaghe did not respond. He

knew she said it, not to him, but to the stag god himself, and he knew that she said it as a

comfort, both to Og and to herself.

Eventually Caela composed herself, wiped the tears from her eyes and cheeks with the

backs of her hands, and rose. ―Thank you,‖ she said simply, and the Sidlesaghe nodded.

―We need to go to the pool,‖ he said.

Again they walked forward until they stood at the edge of the pool. Before Caela looked

down into the water, she glanced upward, then gasped, truly shocked.

Instead of a sky, or the arching and intertwining branches of the trees, a golden dome

soared high above them.

―We are in the stone hall!‖ Caela cried.

―We are deep under it,‖ the Sidlesaghe said. ―Deep under St Paul‘s.‖ He paused. ―Deep

in the heart of the Labyrinth.‖ He looked across the pond, toward Og, and now Caela saw that

Og lay not alone, but that a man sat with him, cradling the wretched stag‘s head in his lap.

Silvius.

―And there lies the evil the Labyrinth attracts,‖ the Sidlesaghe said, his voice hard,

merciless, nodding at Silvius.

―I know,‖ Caela whispered. ―Poor Silvius.‖

Silvius looked up as if he had heard her, and he stretched out a hand. His face held both a

frightful yearning, and a terrified aspect, and it unsettled Caela, for Silvius had seemed so

confident, so calm, on the two occasions she had met with him. He opened his mouth and it

moved, but no words came out, and his eye filled with tears, and before Caela‘s appalled gaze

Silvius began to cry.

Caela started forward, but again the Sidlesaghe held her back. ―Ignore him,‖ he said. ―He

is not why we are here.‖

She gave Silvius a half-sad, half-reassuring smile, hoping he knew why she could not

approach him at the moment. He held her gaze, then lowered his face, looking away from her

and back to the stag.

Caela watched him, wishing she could speak with Silvius, and comfort him in whatever

troubled him. Eventually she sighed, and looked again at the water. ―The waters will show me

what happened to the Game?‖

―Aye,‖ said the Sidlesaghe. ―Of all people, you should know how to read them.‖

In answer she walked forward a step or two until the water touched her bare toes.

For long minutes Caela did nothing but stare at the water.

Then she sighed, only slightly, but the entire surface of the pond rippled as if disturbed by

a heavy wind, and when it settled again, the waters showed Caela what she wanted to know.

Brutus, standing screaming with grief and rage in the centre of the Labyrinth atop Og‘s

Hill under a sky laden with roiling black clouds.

Genvissa‘s body at his feet, her cold pregnant belly mounding towards the sky.

Time, passing.

Brutus, again standing atop Og‘s Hill, again under the laden, black sky, but now

Genvissa‘s corpse lay atop a great burning pyre.

Time, passing.

Brutus, burying Genvissa‘s ashes at the entrance to the Labyrinth.

Then Brutus doing…doing something, but his actions were cloaked with the greyness of

enchantment, and Caela could not discern his movements.

―He is hiding the Trojan kingship bands,‖ she murmured, and behind her the Sidlesaghe

nodded.

Time, passing. Much time passing. Many years.

Now a great temple stood atop Og‘s Hill, hiding the Labyrinth beneath its stone flooring,

but somehow the waters of the pond showed Caela what was happening beneath the temple

floor.

The Labyrinth, sinking.

Deeper and deeper, writhing through the dirt and rock and gravel of the hill like a worm.

And the hill, embracing it.

Time, passing.

Above, atop the hill, swarms of blue clay-daubed naked warriors led by a man of such

beauty and evilness that he appeared to suck all of the world‘s life into him.

Below, the Labyrinth sinking deeper, deeper, embraced by the land.

The naked warrior— Asterion! —raging as Brutus had once raged, but for differing

reason.

Time, passing.

The Labyrinth now lay buried far into the land. As yet it had not grown appreciably in

physical size but, as Caela watched, she saw that small earthen creatures wandered its twists and

paths—worms and moles and beetles, and foxes and badgers too, who had burrowed deep to see

what it was that hummed so beautifully within their midst.

Time, passing.

Tree roots, extending (reaching) out from the northern and western forests, touched the

extremities of the Labyrinth.

Drew back, then, carefully, touched again.

And the tree roots, as the moles and badgers and foxes and worms, sighed, found that

touch good, and merged with the Labyrinth.

It was a process that Caela understood happened over many hundreds of years, perhaps

over a millennium, and she understood that it happened principally because Og rested within the

heart of the Labyrinth, and his presence drew in the creatures and the forest. But the

Labyrinth—the Troy Game—and the land and its creatures found each other well met, and

discovered that they could live together with ease, and that, above all, they could be good for each other.

And this, Caela understood, was what Mag-whoonce-had-been, and who now lived as

Caela‘s flesh, had known so long ago and this was what she had foreseen.

The Sidlesaghe moved closely enough behind Caela that their bodies touched briefly, and

Caela shuddered.

―See,‖ he whispered, extending a hand to the waters. ―See how the Game has spread its

tentacles, grown its Labyrinth under the area of the Veiled Hills. It tunnels and it worms, and it

waits.‖

―For…‖

―For you, of course, and for its Kingman.‖

Caela‘s eyes flickered to where Og lay motionless, then she looked back to the images

within the pond.

―Look,‖ she said, and now it was she who pointed.

A dark stain was spreading over the pond from its eastern extremity. A cloud of

malignancy.

―Asterion,‖ the Sidlesaghe said.

―He lurks within the court,‖ said Caela, ―but he is too powerful, too cunning for me to

perceive him. Long Tom, why is that so? I should be able to perceive him, to know him.‖

The Sidlesaghe frowned, and its mouth dropped open. ―Oh,‖ it said, and the sound was

more a low moan than a spoken word. ―You cannot see him? You cannot see him?‖

―No. Long Tom—‖

―Oh! You cannot know him?‖

―Do you know who he is?‖ Caela said sharply.

The Sidlesaghe‘s mouth thinned, and he shook his head.

―Are you sure?‖ Caela asked.

The Sidlesaghe nodded. ―He is dangerous,‖ he said.

―Yes. I know.‖

―He wants to destroy the Game.‖

―I know.‖

―We must keep it safe.‖

―Yes, I know, but, Long Tom—‖

―Asterion is very, very dangerous, dear girl.‖

―I know this, Long Tom!‖

―We want you to move the bands. Keep us safe. Keep the land safe. Both the Game and

the land want you to do this. It will aid both, but primarily it will aid the Game to grow in

strength as well as in magnitude.‖

Caela‘s mouth dropped open. “That is what the Game needs me to do to help it?‖ Then,

“Can I move them?‖

The Sidlesaghe regarded her, and for a moment Caela felt as if she were being judged.

―Yes,‖ he said finally, ―this is how you can help the Game, and, yes, you will be able to move

them. The Game wants you to move the kingship bands of Troy. If Asterion cannot find the

bands, then not only shall the Game remain safe for the time being, but you shall have time to—‖

―To discover the means to persuade Swanne to hand to me her powers,‖ Caela said, ―and