There were more steps behind William: other fellow hunters, and the huntsmen. They
were quiet, watching William, one or two of them wincing at the terrible sound made by the
stricken stag.
Walter‘s eyes settled on William‘s face. The duke was staring fixedly at the stag, his skin
pale and clammy, as if he saw before him a devil, or some imp from hell. ―My lord?‖ he said yet
one more time, hoping that William would break free of whatever spell had claimed him.
Still no response, and Walter exchanged a worried look with one of the other nobles.
―Damn you!‖ William suddenly whispered, and Walter jumped, thinking his duke spoke
to him.
But William was still staring at the stag, and now he stepped forward, almost stumbling.
The stag cried out yet more harshly, his hooves flailing dangerously, and Walter was sure the
duke would be struck, but somehow William managed to avoid the stag‘s hooves and legs. He
stepped around behind the stag, sheathed his knife, grasped one of the stag‘s magnificent antlers
to steady the beast‘s head, then took the arrow with his other hand and, frightfully, sickeningly,
thrust the arrow deep into the stag‘s brain.
The creature gave one more frightful spasm, and then lay still, save for one hind leg
which continued to quiver slightly.
―Unmake it,‖ said William harshly, standing back. ―Unmake it now!”
He turned away, but then staggered, and Walter stepped close and took one of his arms to
steady him.
―My lord?‖
―Will he never leave me be?‖ whispered William, bending over as if he were going to
vomit. He gagged once, then again a little more violently, before managing to regain control of
his stomach. ―Will he never leave me be?‖
One of the huntsmen came forward, taking William‘s other arm, but then William
straightened, wiped his mouth, and managed a smile.
―I am well enough,‖ he said, seemingly himself again, and the two men relaxed—as did
all the others standing and watching with worried countenances.
―Likely the meat you took for breakfast was rotten,‖ Walter said, and William accepted
the excuse.
―Aye, likely it was. My apologies if I have concerned you, but I am well enough now.
Where is my horse? Ah, thank you, Ranuld.‖
He took the stallion‘s reins from the huntsman who had brought him forward, and swung
into the saddle.
But just as he settled on the horse‘s back, gathering up the reins, there came a distant
shout, then the sound of approaching hooves.
―What is wrong?‖ said William, swinging his stallion about so he could see.
There was a rider hurtling across the meadowlands towards the patch of forest where
William had downed the stag. He wore the duke‘s livery, and William recognised him as one of
the squires from his garrison within the castle of Rouen.
―It‘s Oderic,‖ mumbled Walter.
―And with dire news,‖ said Ranuld, the huntsman who had also come to William‘s aid.
―See the lather on his horse.‖
―My lord duke!‖ Oderic called as he pulled his exhausted horse to a stumbling halt. ―My
lord duke!‖
―What?‖ snarled William, kicking his stallion forth and grabbing Oderic by the shoulder
of his tunic before almost hauling Oderic from his mount. ―What news, man?‖
―Earl Harold of England,‖ Oderic managed to gasp. ―Earl Harold…‖
―Yes? Yes!‖ William gave Oderic an impatient shake.
―Earl Harold…‖ Oderic could barely speak, caught between the extremity of his news,
his desperate battle for breath, and his duke‘s furious grasp on his shoulder.
“Yes?” William thought he would strangle the news from the man if he did not spit out
the words within an instant.
―Earl Harold awaits in your castle, my lord duke.‖
―What?‖ William was so surprised he let Oderic go, and the squire almost fell off his
horse as a surprised, concerned buzz of comment rose among William‘s retainers and huntsmen.
Earl Harold awaited in Duke William”s castle?
“My castle?‖ said William stupidly, unable to comprehend what Oderic said. ―Here? In
Rouen?‖
―Aye, my lord. A patrol discovered him last night, having disembarked from a fishing
vessel on the coast two nights previous.‖
―What does he do here?‖ William mumbled to himself, then waved away the question.
―Never mind. Walter. We ride. Now!”
Part Four
1065
“Pay me my fare, …
“Pay me my fare, or by Gog and Magog, you shall feel the smart of my whipcord!”
Coachman to passengers at Bartholomew Fair,
London, late 1700s, cited in
William Hone, Ancient Mysteries Described, 1823
London, March 1939
Matilda Flanders turned to Frank Bentley, who was still looking at her open-mouthed.
“Frank,” she said, “I wasn”t a staid widow all my life. I was a young girl once,” she glanced at Jack Skelton, then looked back to Frank and winked, “and kicked up my heels a bit, if you know
what I mean.”
Bentley blushed.
“With Major Skelton?” Violet Bentley said.
“I wasn”t always so old and haggard,” Skelton said dryly. “Matilda, Ecub, I need to
speak with you. Please.”
“Major— ” said Frank.
“Just for fifteen minutes,” said Skelton, turning to Frank. “I won”t hold you up. Go
inside now, and have that breakfast Violet has cooked.”
Frank stifled his curiosity, nodded, then put his arm around Violet”s shoulder and led her
back into their house.
The instant the door closed behind them, Skelton turned to the two women.
“Where is my daughter?”
Matilda and Ecub glanced at each other.
“Probably with Stella,” said Matilda. Then, hastily, as Skelton”s face registered his
dismay, added, “Stella will— ”
“My daughter is with Asterion”s whore?”
Ecub stepped forward, took his arm, and led him toward Matilda”s front door.
“Asterion”s whore” can take care of her as well as anyone. She”s done it before well enough.”
“But—”
“For the gods” sakes, Jack!” Ecub hissed. “Cornelia asked her to look after the child
should…”
Her voice trailed away.
“Should Asterion take Cornelia,” Skelton said woodenly. “So Asterion does have
Cornelia.”
“Come inside,” said Matilda, taking his hand. “And have a cup of tea.”
ONE
CAELA SPEAKS
I sat with my ladies— how I hated this sitting about, spending my days in nothing but
courtly gossips and embroideries—and understood that Harold had arrived in Rouen. I shivered,
unable to keep at bay that memory of William tearing Coel‘s lifeless body from mine. Coel‘s
blood had been so very warm, as he had himself been so very warm, and so very loving.
I could feel—faintly, but the knowledge was there—William‘s confusion, anger and
uncertainty as he heard of Harold‘s arrival. Everything, in fact, he had felt that night Genvissa
had sent him to murder me.
Keep him safe, I prayed silently. Keep him safe.
I closed my eyes, and in the strength of my prayer I think my body wavered somewhat,
for instantly concerned voices were raised about me, and tentative hands touched my arm.
―Madam? Madam? Are you well?‖
I opened my eyes, and caught Judith‘s gaze. She nodded, understanding.
―No,‖ I murmured, allowing my voice to waver, so very slightly, ―I am not well. I should
rest a while before our noonday meal. Judith…?‖
She took my arm, and I nodded a dismissal to the other women who clustered about me.
Slowly we retreated from the private solar, where I spent most of the day when I was not
in court, to the bedchamber, where I spent all my cold, loveless nights.
Once the door closed behind us I straightened and Judith dropped my arm.
―Madam?‖ she said.
I smiled wryly. I wished she would call me Caela in private, but now that I was doubly
―royal‖ in Judith‘s eyes, there would be little chance of that.
―I am glad that we have this time alone,‖ she said. ―There is something I need to speak of
to you.‖
―Yes?‖
―Saeweald…over the past days I have spoken to Saeweald on many occasions on this
matter…‖
Her voice had drifted off, her cheeks mottling and her eyes avoiding mine.
―Judith?‖ I said. ―What is wrong?‖
―It is something of which you spoke to us—that you and Og-reborn will complete the
Game as Mistress and Kingman of the Labyrinth.‖
―You find this difficult to accept.‖
―It is difficult enough,‖ she said, ―but this is not what eats at me.‖
―And that is?‖
She hesitated, mouth hanging partly open, eyes averted. ―It is that Saeweald believes he
shall be Og-reborn. ‖
There, it was out, and Judith finally allowed herself to look at me from under her lashes.
―Oh,‖ I said on a long breath, and now it was I who averted my eyes.
―Ah,‖ said Judith.
By the gods, we were playing some silly childish prattling game! ―Oh‖ here and ―Ah‖
there!
―Is Saeweald…? Will he…?‖ Judith said.
Then, gods help me, I lied, for if I told her who Og-reborn was fated to be, then I would
have lost her, as well as Saeweald and Ecub, in one foul-tasting word.
―I cannot know,‖ I said, holding her gaze. ―It shall be who the Troy Game and the land