shook his head, and would not answer the question.
―We are worried,‖ he said, changing the subject when I tried to press. ―The land feels ill.
You do not feel it?‖
I shook my head. In truth, the past week I had slept so little that I doubt I would have felt
it if my right arm had been torn from my body.
Then I was consumed by guilt, because I should have felt it. I was the land, and if it was
not right, then I should have felt it.
―It has an imp within it,‖ he said, and moaned so pitifully that I began to weep. ―We
cannot see where, but that imp will eat at us and this green land and its forests and waters until
all are gone.‖
―Long Tom, I can see and feel nothing. Why? What is wrong with me?‖
And to that he did not respond, either, saying only, ―You must move another band
tonight, sweet lady. It is all we can do.‖
I did, moving a band that Brutus had hidden in the north-eastern part of London‘s wall to
a point far to the south of the river, a place called Herne Hill where waited for me a similar scene
as had greeted me at Holy Oak, save that this time I handed the band to a man sitting behind a
curious wheel in one of those frightful black beasts, this time stationary at the entrance to a
similar red brick building as had stood at Gospel Oak.
My heart raced the entire time, but there was no sign of Asterion.
Somehow that worried me more than anything.
TEN
Yves had been and gone, and now William stood before Matilda with the unfolded letter
in his hands.
He was staring at it without expression.
―Does it…?‖ Matilda said, wanting to snatch at the letter but unable to tear her eyes from
her husband‘s face.
―Yes,‖ William said, finally raising his own gaze from the letter to look at Matilda. ―It
confirms the rumours we‘ve heard for the past two days. Edward is dead. And Harold has been
elected and crowned and anointed King of England.‖
Matilda drew in a sharp breath. ―He moved fast. But then we always knew he would.‖
She nodded at the letter. ―And Swanne? How has she positioned herself?‖
William‘s mouth twisted wryly, and he handed the letter to Matilda to read. ―This is not
from Swanne, but rather Aldred.‖
Matilda took the letter, her eyes scanning the thick inked lines. ―The Archbishop of
York?‖
―Aye.‖ They had already heard that Harold had set Swanne to one side, and neither was
surprised at this intelligence. William wondered, however, just how deeply Swanne had taken
that to her heart.
He wondered, very privately, and with an intensity that ate at him during those long
wakeful moments in the heart of the night, if it was her anger and undoubted humiliation which
had caused the ―shift‖ he‘d felt in the Game over the past few weeks.
Something had happened—distinct from the movement of the second and third bands
which William supposed could be attributed to Silvius—and it had happened as he had felt a
simultaneous ―withdrawing‖ from Swanne. Apart from their two brief meetings they‘d never
been in close contact, but William had always been able to sense her, feel her.
Now that sense had faded.
What was happening?
Well, at least now he had the excuse he needed to move. William took a deep breath,
grateful at least for Edward‘s dying.
At last…at last.
He looked to Matilda‘s face and saw the excitement there, and for the first time he
wondered what would happen to her in this forthcoming battle. Dear gods, let her not be hurt!
He reached out and touched her face tenderly, and was rewarded by the slight pressure of
her cheek against the palm of his hand.
―You will be king,‖ she said.
He smiled, but it did not reach his eyes. ―Aye. After all this time—‖
―William,‖ she said, ―I have had news from my agent as well.‖
―Yes?‖
―Swanne has moved into the Archbishop of York‘s palace.‖
― What? ‖
―Harold put her aside. This cannot be surprising news, surely.‖
―That Harold should set Swanne aside? No. In truth, I expected it. But why would
Swanne move into the archbishop‘s household? In what capacity? Has your agent discovered
that?‖
Matilda watched her husband closely as she picked her next words with some care. ―It is
rumoured that Swanne has become Aldred‘s lover.‖
William‘s mouth fell open.
―My love,‖ Matilda said. ―After what Harold has told us of her, you cannot be surprised
that—‖
―That Swanne has chosen a lover? No, I am not surprised at that. I am sure she did it so
that she retained a place at court. Unless she became a laundress—‖
Matilda‘s eyes widened very slightly, but otherwise her face remained remarkably
expressionless.
―—there could be little else Swanne could do to keep a place within court. Sweet Christ,
Harold would not want her there. But Aldred… Aldred! Matilda, you have met him and seen him
for what he is. An obese flatterer with few qualities. He is useful, yes…but as a lover…‖
―Perhaps he is a good lover.‖
William laughed briefly, incredulously. ―There are many other men within court who
could have served as well as Aldred. Swanne is a beautiful woman—‖
―I wouldn‘t know,‖ murmured Matilda.
―—and she could have any man she—‖ He stopped abruptly. He stepped to Matilda, and
cradled her face in his hands. ―Matilda, you will be queen beside me. I swear it to you.‖
―I expect to be, William. And Swanne?‖
―I don‘t know.‖ And he didn‘t. William didn‘t like to consider what Swanne would say
once she learned Matilda was not to be pensioned off to some nunnery in Flanders. He
remembered what she had done to Cornelia, how she had brutalised her, come near to murdering
her, taken her child from her…
―I will protect you,‖ William said to Matilda.
She frowned. What an odd thing to say. Before she could question him on the matter,
William had let her go, walking to a chest beneath the window where lay several sheets of
parchment and vellum. He picked them up, shuffling them in his hands, signalling through the
action that he wanted the subject changed.
―The documents are all prepared,‖ he said, ―and the riders are waiting. They will be
dispatched by this evening.‖
Matilda came to stand by him, leaning in close as she stared at the letters before her.
They were addressed to the leaders of Europe: Alexander II, the Pope, leader of all
Christendom; Henry IV, the Holy Roman Emperor, controller of the largest territory within
Europe; Count Baldwin V of Flanders, Matilda‘s kinsman, who was not only an important prince
in his own right but was also the guardian to the young French king, Philip I; as well, scores of
other lesser nobles and prelates. William was going to invade England come what may, but he
was going to make damned sure that he had the political and armed support of Europe behind
him.
―I have also sent out word to my magnates,‖ William said. ―I will hold a great council in
Lillebonne in a few weeks. When they agree, I will have an undivided Normandy behind me.‖
―They will agree?‖ she asked.
―Yes. The rewards will be too good to ignore.‖
―And the ships?‖ She almost whispered the question.
―I sent word yesterday once the rumours grew strong.‖ William had actually known the
instant Edward had died, but had been forced to stay his hand until he heard the news by more
conventional means. He didn‘t want whispers of murder by poisoning circulating. ―The wharves
of Dives River are already ringing with the sound of carpenters‘ hammers and adzes.‖
―When?‖ she said, and she had to say no other word for William to know of what she
spoke.
―Late summer,‖ he said. ―Harold has until summer to enjoy his kingdom.‖
His stomach clenched. Only another few months, a few months!
ELEVEN
While, intellectually, Swanne should have known that Aldred and Asterion were one and
the same man, one and the same beast, Asterion‘s subtle sorcery worked so well that emotionally they were entirely separate in her conscious mind. Once the coronation was past (and how she
had hated seeing Harold enthroned, and that pale-faced bitch beside him), Aldred had settled her back into his London palace. Here, at least once a day, he brutalised her both physically and
emotionally until she cringed whenever she heard his voice, or caught a whiff of his scent on bed
linens or a discarded robe.
Asterion usually came to her once Aldred had departed. He would hold her, and soothe
away her hurts, and tell her how beautiful and powerful she was, and whisper how good it would
be when they ruled the Game together. Swanne never made the connection: that Asterion