Gods Concubine by Sara Douglass

demands. Maybe Saeweald, maybe not…but I dislike it that he has already voiced his ambitions

to the office.‖ I put some distaste into that final phrase, some goddess-like offence, and it

diverted Judith magnificently.

―I should not have presumed—‖

“He should not have presumed!‖

Judith dropped her gaze again, her cheeks mottling an even deeper shade of humiliation. I

placed a hand on her arm. ―I am sorry to snap, Judith. I had not thought that Saeweald would

have jumped so easily to that possibility. But it is nothing to do with you, and I am glad you have

told me. Here.‖ I kissed her face. ―I am not cross with you.‖

―I will tell him—‖

―No. Do not mention it. I shall speak to him when appropriate.‖ And yet when was

appropriate? “I am sorry, Saeweald, but you have no place in what is to come”? Oh, I could not

lose him so quickly. I had need of him yet. As did…as did he who would become Og.

―And now,‖ I continued, all business, ―I asked you here because I have need of your aid.‖

―Anything,‖ Judith said, trying to atone.

I felt abashed, and took her hand and led her to a covered chest which stood beneath the

chamber‘s only window. We sat down, and I kept hold of her hand, although I think I was trying

to reassure myself more than her.

―Judith, there are tasks I will need to do, places I shall need to go. I will need to spend

much time away from the palace. Both at night, and during the day.‖

She nodded, the eagerness to please in her eyes intensifying.

―This will be difficult for me. I am the queen, I cannot just wander about the streets as I

need—‖

―But at night…‖

I shrugged slightly. ―Nights contain more freedom for me, surely, but even they are

dangerous. What if Edward or his bowerthegn should wake, and I not be there? More

importantly, there are days when I will have the need to leave the palace. I need more freedom,

far more than my existence as ‗queen‘ allows.‖

I also needed more security if I was to move the bands, or even to communicate with the

Sidlesaghes as I needed. I constantly worried that some action or ill-considered word might draw

either Swanne‘s or Asterion‘s suspicion; had I already said or done something that may have

alerted them? This concern ate at me. I needed to move about both more freely and unobserved.

How to do this as the constantly watched queen, whose every movement was noted?

I had struggled with this problem over the past few days, and could see only one solution.

I hated to do it, for it would put another in the danger that I sought to escape, but if I was careful, then maybe she would not suffer.

Maybe.

―Judith, I need a glamour.‖

Her eyes grew huge, and she drew in a deep breath and held it for a long moment as she

watched me unblinkingly. ―A glamour?‖ she said finally. ―Do you want to use me to—‖

I shook my head. ―Not you, for I will need you awake and aware of what goes on about

me.‖ I grinned briefly. ―If I can drag you away from Saeweald‘s bed long enough…‖

She blushed, and I thought that if she kept this up I would need to ask Saeweald for some

whitening alloy to dab on Judith‘s cheeks.

―No, I will need someone else with which to create the glamour.‖

―Ah. You would like me to find her for you?‖

―Aye. Judith, I hate to do this—to use an unwitting woman as my dupe. I fear for her, and

what might happen to her if she…is discovered. But without her I shall be too constrained for my

purposes. Judith, do you know of anyone who lives in Westminster, who has no children or

husband who…who…‖ Who would be left bereft if my mistake killed her.

Judith dropped her gaze to where our hands lay entwined, thinking. Eventually she raised

her face, then nodded.

―There is a woman who I think would serve you well. Her name is Damson, and she is

the widow of a stonecutter and now partly earns her way as a laundress. She is, oh, some

forty-five or fifty years of age, and has the freedom of both Westminster and London as she

wanders looking for small pieces of work. Everyone knows her. Damson is a simple woman, but

true and good-hearted. If you ask her I am certain that—‖

―I cannot ‗ask‘, Judith. She must not have any understanding of what I do or else the

glamour shall not work sufficiently—it will not be deep enough. Can you bring her to me, and

say only that I have need of her services? Would she accept that?‖

―Aye.‖

―When could you bring her to me?‖

―I saw Damson about the palace courtyard this morning, probably looking for work in the

laundries, or even the dairy. If I find her quickly, then I could have her before you within the

hour.‖

―Go, then, and find me this Damson.‖

TWO

A bright day it might be, but inside Rouen‘s castle the sunshine had yet to penetrate. The

air was chill, and the breath frosted from the mouths of those not fortunate enough to have

secured a close position by the fire that burned within the duke‘s Great Hall.

Matilda and Earl Harold were two of the fortunate few. They sat in intricately carved oak

chairs only two paces distant from where the fire cracked and leapt in the stone hearth, cups of

the duke‘s best wine in their hands, making conversation until the duke himself could be

summoned from the hunt. Rather than Norman French or Anglo-Saxon, they spoke in the more

general French dialect that most European nobles (as merchants and craftsmen) learned as

children.

Their ability to converse in a mutually comfortable language was not the only reason both

found the conversation relatively effortless. Matilda was fascinated with the earl and he, quite

obviously, with her. This might be their first meeting, but each had heard so much of the other

over the years that they felt already well acquainted.

―My husband shall doubtless be surprised to find you here,‖ said Matilda, gracing the earl

with a smile over the rim of her wine cup. She was deeply intrigued by his face, for although it

wore the hard lines of a warrior and a man used to great command, it also had an aura of

sensitivity, even mysticism, generally found only in the faces of poets, or religious recluses.

Or, indeed, in lovers.

Apart from that sense of mysticism, Harold was a highly attractive man with his dark

eyes framed by his greying blond hair and darker beard. Matilda liked the fact that, unlike so

many Saxons, Harold kept that beard very short and neat, and did not hide beneath a shrubby,

flea-ridden haystack.

―There was a time,‖ said Harold, intrigued in his own way by this tiny, stern-faced

woman before him, ―when dukes and earls and princes spent their time only in the pursuit of the

bloody sport of war, and it was with war that they solved every one of their dilemmas. I like to

think that I and your husband are more civilised men, and that words and vows might be used to

accomplish more than the agony and futility of war. I come to court an ally, not to incense an

enemy.‖

―You are a poet!‖ Matilda murmured into her wine cup before taking a sip of the heavily

spiced wine within.

Harold gave a small, sad smile. ―I am a man, and a father, and a leader of many men and

fathers. I value life before needless death. Thus I sit here with you this fair morn, waiting for

your lord to return from the hunt.‖

―And for my part,‖ said Matilda, ―I am more than pleased to have this chance to sit and

pass words with you. Tell me, how goes Edward?‖

―Heavily, and with bad grace,‖ said Harold. ―He thinks only of the next life, and of his

salvation. He is less the king, and more the repentant, mewling constantly for a chance to redeem

himself before whichever altar he can find.‖

―And thus you are here,‖ said Matilda. ―I understand. So, if Edward declines, then may I

ask after your own family? Your wife and children? Your sister and brother?‖

Harold studied her, wondering what she knew. ―My wife…‖ He shrugged as his voice

drifted off into uncertainty as to what to say, and was then surprised at the glint of understanding

in Matilda‘s eyes.

―She does not suit you, then.‖

He did not answer, and Matilda smiled into her wine as she sipped it. ―Your children are

well?‖

This time she was rewarded with a natural and very warm smile, and her regard for the