Gods Concubine by Sara Douglass

Ecub, Judith and I shrugged simultaneously. Whether as Genvissa or as Swanne, the

woman was always taking lovers.

―A lover who has supplanted William in her heart and in her estimation.‖

―I cannot believe that!‖ I said. Then…―Has she—‖

―Decided to abandon the cause of the Game?‖ Saeweald said. ―Forsworn her duties as

Mistress of the Labyrinth? Nay, I am afraid not, Caela. She made it very clear to me that she is

the Mistress of the Labyrinth, she will be the Mistress of the Labyrinth, and the Game is hers to control as she pleases.‖

I felt a twinge of worry. I kept waiting for some enlightenment as to how it was I might

persuade Swanne to hand over her powers as Mistress of the Labyrinth but that knowledge

continued to elude me. Still, I must trust, and surely it would become plain to me.

But…Swanne had found a lover to supplant William?

―She has taken a lover who has supplanted William?‖ I said. ―How can that possibly be?‖

―Aldred,‖ Judith said. ―Who else?‖

Saeweald shot her a disbelieving look. ―Aldred the great lover who has made Swanne

forget William? I can hardly credit it.‖

I could no longer bear inactivity, so I stood and paced back and forth in the narrow space

of the semicircle we made before the fire. ― This must be the shift the Sidlesaghes felt in the

Game and the land,‖ I said. ―Swanne‘s lover.‖

I halted, and fixed Saeweald with a penetrating glare. ―Perhaps Swanne is misleading you

about this man, this lover, for her own purposes.‖

―No,‖ Saeweald said, ―I would stake my life on her genuine affection and regard for this

man.‖

―But how can that be?‖ I made an impatient gesture and resumed my pacing. ―William

can be the only man for her. She needs a Kingman. She can‘t just dismiss William.‖

―Aye,‖ Saeweald said. ―I do not like this. My foreboding merely grows the stronger for

this news.‖

―We need to know who this man is,‖ said Ecub. ―We need to know more about Swanne.

What is happening with her? How can she have decided to abandon William? ‖

I exchanged a glance with Saeweald. ―I could visit her and—‖

―No!‖ Ecub and Judith said as one.

―Too dangerous, surely,‖ Judith added, ―especially as she knows that Mag still lives.‖

―Swanne examined me after Asterion killed the false Mag,‖ I said. ―She knows there is

no Mag in me. She will think merely that Mag has hopped elsewhere.‖ I smiled with what I

hoped was persuasion. ―Swanne might talk to me, if only to brag. She always did enjoy bragging

to me about her lovers.‖

―Still—‖ said Ecub.

―Damson,‖ Saeweald put in, his voice slow. ―Damson is with Swanne.‖

―What?‖ I said. ―With Swanne? What is Damson doing with Swanne?‖

Saeweald shrugged. ―Swanne said that Damson had asked if she might join Swanne‘s

household at Aldred‘s palace. I have no idea why, for Damson could just as surely have had a

place in Harold and Alditha‘s household as she had in Edward‘s.‖

Damson was my responsibility, I thought. I should have seen her settled somewhere

safe— and obviously she felt unsettled enough to go into service with Swanne, of all people. She was my responsibility.

―Caela…‖ Saeweald said. ―Damson is your means to watch Swanne with far more safety

than if you attended the witch in person. Swanne will be unguarded about Damson where she

will be cunning and sly about you. Damson is your entry into Swanne‘s world.‖

I sat silent, not liking it. I had come to hate ―using‖ sweet, trusting Damson in the manner

that I did, and to use her in this way was to place her in terrible danger.

I could see that Ecub and Judith were not happy with Saeweald‘s suggestion, either, but it

was too good an opportunity to lose.

―I can fetch her to you,‖ Saeweald said softly.

I looked down at my hands curled tight in my lap, and lowered my head in agreement.

Saeweald arranged my meeting with Damson some six days later. By virtue of her

service to Aldred, whose palace lay within the boundaries of London, Damson could not stray

from London itself, so, accompanied by Mother Ecub and Judith, I travelled, heavily draped and

veiled, to London to meet Damson there. I occupied a room in a sister house to St

Margaret‘s—Mother Ecub said I was a noble lady who needed solitude and privacy in order to

pray for her dead husband‘s soul—and there I waited.

In the late afternoon Saeweald brought Damson to me.

He‘d not told her who he brought her to meet, only that he needed some assistance with

draining fluid from the lungs of a woman who had the creeping blackness in her chest. When

Ecub opened the door to Saeweald‘s soft tap, and Damson saw who awaited her within, her

simple, clear face burst into a radiant smile, and she sank into a deep curtsey before me.

―Madam!‖ she said. ―I have prayed for your happiness every night.‖

My guilt increased. How could I use this woman as I did? I determined that, whatever

happened, Damson should not suffer for it.

―Damson,‖ I said, keeping my voice light. I took her hands in mine and raised her to her

feet and, leaning forward, kissed her on the mouth.

Instantly our souls transposed.

As I entered Damson I felt a brief, lingering trace of her unfeigned joy at seeing me and

my guilt again stabbed deep.

I would see this woman safe. I would.

Aldred had himself a fine palace within London. It was richer and larger than most

others—even the Bishop of London himself did not command such magnificence, let alone any

of the nobles who maintained residences within the city walls. Aldred had made himself rich

indeed on Edward‘s munificence, I thought, as I made my way through the halls and chambers to

where Saeweald had told me Swanne had her private apartments. I took care to maintain

Damson‘s habitual modesty of demeanour, keeping my shoulders slumped and my face averted

and I entered Swanne‘s outer chamber without any challenge from the guards.

It was late afternoon and Swanne was enjoying a light repast. Hawise, Swanne‘s senior

attending woman, made a sharp remark to me about my tardiness in returning from my errand,

but that was the only comment made.

―Here,‖ Hawise said, handing me some linens. ―His lordship has spent the afternoon with

my lady. Her bed will need to be changed.‖

I took the linens silently and, equally as silently, I slipped into Swanne‘s chamber.

Swanne was sitting by a brazier to one end of the chamber, picking without much

apparent interest at a plate of food set before her. She paid me no attention as I made my way to

the bed, and I glanced surreptitiously at her.

She seemed very pale, and had lost weight, but even so she was still fabulously beautiful.

Her hair was bound under a veil, although several strands of it straggled over her neck which

was, I was concerned to see, slightly reddened in patches, as if someone had grabbed at it with

thick fingers.

Swanne must have felt my eyes on her, for she turned to me and snapped, ―Just change

the linens and remove yourself, Damson. I have no interest in holding a conversation.‖

I averted my head, terrified she should have seen more than Damson in my eyes, but

Swanne said no more, and when I glanced at her as I began to strip the coverlets from the bed I

saw that her attention was back on the plate of food.

I looked to the bed, and barely managed to restrain a gasp of horror.

That Aldred had lain with her recently was apparent—there were stains smeared across

half the bed—but what was appalling was that there were also great streaks of blood marring the creamy linens. Her flux? I thought, then dismissed it, for this blood was not that of a woman‘s monthly courses, but the rich red of arterial flow.

By all the gods in existence, what was Aldred doing to her? This was the lover she had

crowed about to Saeweald?

I could feel Swanne‘s eyes on me once more, so I hurriedly stripped the bed and remade

it with the fresh linens.

―Burn those soiled linens,‖ said Swanne. ―They are unredeemable.‖

―Yes, madam,‖ I muttered, and scurried out, the offending linens stuffed under my arm.

I was not invited back into Swanne‘s chamber that day. No one entered save Hawise, and

I heard Swanne snarling at her on those brief occasions when the door opened or closed.

Late at night, long after the bells for compline had rung, Aldred himself returned. He

rumbled into the outer chamber, wrapped in furs against the night cold, and exuded charm and

bonhomie.

Hawise shot him a black look, and did not meet his eyes. Frankly, I was not surprised. If