Gods Concubine by Sara Douglass

―Wife!‖ croaked Edward in a horrible, thick, raspy voice. ―Explain your absence!‖

―Thank God and all His saints and angels you still live,‖ Caela said, her voice one of

apparent joy. ―See, I have bought Saeweald to your side.‖

―Your beloved wife realised the change in your vitality even before you woke,‖ Saeweald

said, pushing aside several of the clerics and women to reach the side of the bed, Caela directly

at his shoulder. ―She came to me before anyone else had thought of my name, weeping that you

were ill nigh unto death. How lucky you are, my lord king, to have such a wife.‖

Still close to the door, Judith closed her eyes and sent a heartfelt prayer of thankfulness to

all water and forest gods in existence for Saeweald‘s quick wits.

Edward folded his lips into a thin line, his bright, feverish eyes darting between Saeweald

and Caela. ―You were not here,‖ he finally said, his gaze settling on his wife. ―The Devil came

a-visiting and you were not here. ‖

―My lord,‖ Caela said, and sat on the bed. ―I was here, until I heard your breath gasp.

Then I rushed for the physician.‖ She glanced at the women present. ―Hasten now, and bring me

cloths and warm rosewater. I would wash this sweat from my lord‘s flesh.‖

The women backed away, and Saeweald took Edward‘s wrist and felt the pulse.

It was weak, fluttering feebly.

―My lord,‖ Saeweald said quietly. ―What has happened?‖

―The Devil has entered me,‖ Edward said, sending one more vicious glare in Caela‘s

direction.

She ignored it, her face set in respectful concern, and she took a hastily wetted cloth from

one of the women and began to run it over one of Edward‘s hands.

Edward looked back to Saeweald, and then to Wulfstan, who had maintained his position

at the head of the bed opposite from Saeweald.

Wulfstan moaned theatrically, and with a wavering hand made the sign of the cross over

Edward. ―Begone, Devil!‖

―Devil or not,‖ Saeweald muttered, ―your chest is sorely congested.‖ With one hand flat

on Edward‘s chest, he tapped its back with the stiffened middle two fingers of his other.

Edward‘s chest resounded with a thick, horrible thud at every tap. Then the king gasped,

his face purpling, and he began to cough in great, hacking barks.

―What have you done?‖ cried Wulfstan, but Saeweald ignored him.

―Expel it!‖ he said to Edward, who was now bent almost double with the effort of his

hacking. ―Bring it forth!‖

Saeweald grabbed the cloth from Caela, now sitting quite still as she stared in horror at

her husband, and brought it to Edward‘s mouth just as the king ejected a great clot of blood and

pus.

There was a collective gasp of horror from those still gathered about the bed and, apart

from Saeweald and Caela, everyone took a step back.

―Pestilence!‖ muttered the palace chamberlain, and his stance stiffened even more, if that

were possible.

―Still your hysteria!‖ snapped Saeweald. ―Your king has an evil congestion of his lungs,

but this is not the pestilence.‖

There were concerned glances among the onlookers. Pestilence had not struck in over

three generations, but the stories of its horror were still whispered around fires and tables.

―Physician,‖ said Caela, leaning forward to touch Saeweald‘s arm briefly. ―What can you

do? Please, tell me that you may save my husband‘s life.‖

The distress in her voice did not appear feigned.

―I shall bleed him this night,‖ said Saeweald, ―and prepare a poultice for his chest and

belly. Will you stay, madam, and aid me?‖

―Gladly,‖ she said, then, as one of the women returned with a bowl of warmed rosewater,

rinsed out the cloth thickened with the blood and pus and began gently to sponge down her

husband‘s body.

FOUR

In some deep, inner corner of her being Swanne realised she was drifting toward

wakefulness, and she fought it with every ounce of her strength. Better sleep and unknowingness

than facing what had occurred last night (as every night in recent, terrifying memory).

To no avail. She felt herself propelled towards consciousness, and at the same time she

felt that ghastly, leaden, icy weight in her belly, and she knew the incubus was forcing her to

wake.

Asterion must want her.

―No!‖ Swanne muttered as her eyes sprang open.

She stared directly upwards to the wooden ceiling of her chamber.

It looked so ordinary, so non-threatening, and Swanne wondered why its innocuous

wooden planks did not somehow reflect the agony that gripped her.

She moaned, twisting a little in the bed. Her body throbbed and ached in a score of

places, the hurt between her legs and deep within her belly the worst of all. There was a warm

dampness on her thighs, and even without looking Swanne knew it was fresh blood.

The incubus? Breakfasting?

―William,‖ she moaned softly and, for the first time since Asterion had trapped her, and

without thinking or considering the implications, acting only on deep need and on her even

deeper terror, Swanne tried to reach out to him.

The next instant a bloodcurdling scream ripped through her throat and she convulsed on

the bed. The incubus had sunk its teeth into the inner linings of her womb, and had ripped her

flesh clean away.

As horrific as the pain was, worse was the frightful feel of the thing‘s jaws working back

and forth, back and forth, as it chewed its morsel.

―My lady?‖

The door had burst open at the sound of Swanne‘s cry, and Hawise and one other of

Swanne‘s attending ladies stood there.

The instant they entered they had halted, transfixed by the sight of Swanne writhing

beneath her bloody sheets.

―Madam!‖ Hawise gasped, and would have moved forwards, but at that moment Aldred

appeared behind them, grabbed both of the women‘s elbows, and forced them backwards

towards the door.

―It is but her monthly flux,‖ he said soothingly. ―It is still flowing—can you credit it? A

nuisance, indeed.‖ He turned from the woman and looked benignly at Swanne. ―That is the

problem, is it not, my dear?‖

Swanne looked at Aldred, and then felt the incubus within her open its jaws again. A

wave of hopelessness all but overwhelmed her.

―Aye,‖ she whispered, and within her the incubus closed its jaws. ―It is but my flux. More

burdensome than usual.‖

―But…‖ said Hawise.

―The flux, Hawise,‖ said Swanne, her voice flat. ―Nothing more.‖

―And now,‖ said Aldred, ―if you will leave her ladyship and myself alone for a time. We

must talk a little over…arrangements.‖

The women, now outside the door, stood motionless, still staring, as Aldred closed the

door on them, and then Swanne heard their footsteps retreat.

―No…‖ she whispered, and wondered if it was going to be the only thing she could ever

again say.

For so long as her life lasted…for so long as Asterion permitted her to live.

―I am glad to see you awake,‖ Aldred said, wobbling forth. ―The night has seen some

intriguing happenings.‖ He paused, and grinned maliciously. ―Not only the lovemaking that

transpired between you and me. Yes?‖

She said nothing, but Aldred saw her throat constrict as she swallowed.

―I am awaiting your response, my dear.‖ Aldred‘s voice had hardened into ice, and

Swanne felt her head jerked back so that she was forced to stare at him.

―Yes,‖ she whispered, her mouth dry with terror.

―Another of the bands has been moved. Did you not know of it?‖

―My…my mind was consumed with other things.‖

Aldred laughed, the sound harsh. ―Indeed you were. Indeed you were.‖ He began to tug

at the neckline of his robe, pulling it away from his shoulders.

―No!‖ Swanne cried out, and instantly the incubus inside her bit hard and viciously, and

her cry turned into a choked-off shriek, her back arching off the bed in agony, her eyes almost

popping from her head.

―I regret I may have misunderstood your response, my dear,‖ said Aldred, now naked. ―I

thought you might have said no.‖

The agony had hardly dissipated, but Swanne knew her life depended on being able to

placate this monster standing before her. All she had to do was survive, somehow to live, and

eventually she would be able to find a way to…

The incubus bit again, harder and deeper, and the pain was so terrible that Swanne almost

lost consciousness. She opened her mouth, but the agony was such she could not draw breath

even to cry out.

Her eyes rolled up into their sockets, and her body jerked, and then convulsed.

Aldred smiled amiably and climbed into the bed.

A moment passed, and then, even though her body was still stiff with suffering, Swanne

managed a faint, ―Yes.‖

―Yes… what, my dear?‖

―Yes, my lord. I am grateful for your attention.‖

Aldred smiled, cold and malevolent, and forced Swanne‘s legs apart with one hand. ―This

bleeding is truly heavy, my dear. You really should learn to say ‗Yes‘ to me a little quicker.