But they were not just man and woman. They were the Mistress and the Kingman of the Labyrinth, and that meant their physical desires must be played out to the steps of the Game so that both it, and they, would be the stronger for it.
They would be wedded to each other and to the Game, for there could be no other possible existence for them.
‘We will enclose these three mounds,” Brutus said, his eyes still locked in to Genvissa’s. “The southern wall of the city will run along the Llan, making full use of the cliff faces of its northern bank. Then”—his eyes moved away from Genvissa, to the north, and he gestured with his hand—”the wall will curve in a flattened semicircle above the Llan, enclosing the White Mount, and Mag’s and Og’s Hills. This will be a good city, strong and easily defended, and sitting atop these mounds, it will command the entire Llan Valley.”
She walked down to join him and Hicetaon. “Will it have grand bastions and walkways, Brutus? Will
the wall shine in the sun, dazzling all who gaze upon it?”
Brutus laughed, sharing a glance with Hicetaon. “If we can make the foundations strong and deep enough, then, yes, Genvissa, it will be a dazzling city, surrounded by the mightiest wall in the world.”
‘We can entirely enclose the Wai,” Hicetaon said enthusiastically, referring to the wide stream that flowed between Og’s Hill and Mag’s Hill into the Llan. “Troia Nova will have a permanent and secure water supply. No one shall ever be able to lay successful siege to it.”
‘Llangarlia will be strong,” said Genvissa.
‘Indeed,” said Hicetaon, then forgot what else he was going to say as his eyes shifted. “Ah, here comes Cornelia. You have not yet shown her the site,
have you, Brutus? Perhaps you can point out where you shall build you and her a palace.”
He was looking at Cornelia as he spoke, and he missed entirely the furtive glance shared between Brutus and Genvissa.
Genvissa sighed and straightened, moving away from Brutus to look down the hill.
Her face tightened, irritated beyond measure. Cornelia was indeed making her way up the slope, a somewhat forced smile on her face and a sway to her hips that the silly thing undoubtedly thought was attractive.
Then, stunningly, Genvissa felt a moment’s queasiness in her stomach, as if a darkened fate walked up that slope rather than Cornelia, and she kept her face expressionless only with great effort.
Why was Asterion’s name so allied with this girl? Why? Why? Genvissa sent a short, but fervent prayer to whichever gods were listening that Brutus would rid himself of this girl. Soon. Permanently.
And if he did not… Genvissa nodded slowly to herself, her dark, hard eyes not once moving from Cornelia. If Brutus did not, then Genvissa would.
Soon. The night of the Dance of the Torches.
She almost smiled. How… balanced. A conception and a death, and the Game would be safe forever.
Cornelia threw Genvissa another glance, even more apprehensive now she saw the cruelty in the older woman’s eyes, and walked to Brutus’ side.
‘Cornelia,” Brutus said, and Genvissa’s determination increased as she sought, but failed, to detect any discernible irritation in Brutus’ tone.
Cornelia spent a moment studying the view, apparently riveted by its beauty, then turned to her husband. “Are you planning out your city?” Cornelia said. “Will you show me?”
Genvissa rolled her eyes, knowing Cornelia could see her, and turned away, hoping that Brutus would dismiss Cornelia.
But he didn’t. He merely sighed. “I had not thought you to be interested,” he said. “Will you not be bored with talk of masonry and footings?”
‘I have not come all this way to be bored,” she said, trying too hard to appear relaxed. “I want to know. Please, will you show me?”
Brutus looked at her, wondering if this was coquettishness on her part (when had Cornelia ever been interested in what he planned?), but seeing only genuine interest, he began to feel a little guilty. Since his arrival at the Veiled Hills he’d made no secret of his alliance with, and deep attraction to, Genvissa.
Cornelia must surely be certain they were already lovers, and yet she had said nothing to him. Indeed, she had made no complaint, acceded to his every request and demand without hesitation or question, and had been compliant and submissive.
Almost as if her spirit had been broken.
Feeling guiltier than ever, Brutus gave her a small smile. “Well,” he said, “I would have shown you before if I’d known of your interest.”
He put a hand on Cornelia’s waist, hesitated, then drew her in close to his body, and began to point out the course of the walls.
Genvissa watched, unbelieving.
‘The city will be astounding!” Cornelia said, as Brutus finished.
‘Three times the size of Mesopotama,” Brutus said, his voice rich with good humor at Cornelia’s reaction. “But it will not all be built over. There shall be gardens and orchards, light and shade.”
‘Space enough for me to play with our children,” Cornelia said, smiling again as she looked into Brutus’ eyes. She was glowing at his attention and favor. “Space enough for them to grow.”
Genvissa had endured enough. “Children?” she said, arching one of her eyebrows, and walking close to Brutus herself. “I thought you only had one.” She made that “one” sound like a desperate failing. “Not all women are as blessed as I in their fertility.”
She rested one of her hands on Brutus’ shoulder, and leaned close… too close, if the sudden flush in Cornelia’s cheeks were any indication.
Genvissa smiled.
‘Not every woman,” Cornelia said, with a surprising quiet dignity, “has had the numerous opportunities you have taken to catch with child.”
Now Genvissa flushed, and her hand tightened on Brutus’ shoulder.
‘Cornelia,” Brutus said with some slight remonstration, but his eyes sparkled, and he moved away from Genvissa.
‘Ahem,” Hicetaon put in, almost as red and flushed as the two women were. “Perhaps you can show Cornelia where the main buildings will be, Brutus? I confess some curiosity myself, lest this dazzling city of yours is to be all wall and no buildings.”
Genvissa made a dismissive sound, and turned away.
Brutus bit the inside of his lip, trying to keep the grin from his face. “There,” he said, pointing to the White Mount. “I have a great desire to build a palace atop that mound, Cornelia. Shall you enjoy the view, do you think?”
‘It will be most agreeable,” Cornelia said.
‘And there”—he pointed to the top of Mag’s Hill—”a great market, commanded by a civic hall.”
‘And on this hill?” said Cornelia. “On Og’s Hill?”
‘Here?” Brutus looked at Genvissa. “Here we will play the Game, Genvissa and I. Here we will construct the labyrinth, and there”—he pointed to the western slope of the hill that sloped down toward the Magyl River—”will be the main gate of the city.”
Cornelia’s face had fallen at Brutus’ easy coupling of his name with Gen-vissa’s. “A labyrinth?” she said. “On this hill? But I thought—”
‘A labyrinth—” Brutus began to say, but was interrupted by Genvissa, staring with baleful iciness at Cornelia.
‘We will make this city between us,” she said, making no effort to hide the triumph in her voice,
“Brutus and I .”
THEY LAY IN THEIR BED THAT NIGHT, CLOSE, THEIR skin filmed with sweat, their breathing slowly returning to calmness. This had been the first time since their arrival that Brutus had lain with Cornelia, and he wished he hadn’t left it so long. She’d pleased him today with her interest in the city he planned, and he also had to admit he’d enjoyed the spat between her and Genvissa.
Brutus ran a hand very slowly down Cornelia’s back, feeling and caressing every nub of her spine.
She had been sweet and pliable, eager even, and Brutus was well pleased with her.
She trembled against him, and he smiled against her forehead, reveling in the manner in which she made him feel so strong, knowing it would be a long time yet before he allowed her to sleep.
‘I love you,” she whispered, and Brutus cradled her face in his hands, and wondered if, finally, he should lay his mouth to hers. Kiss her, at last, as he should have done that first night.
He smiled, and his head moved forward, and then, suddenly, his mind was filled with a memory: Genvissa, standing before him, her hands splayed across her huge belly.
“Only I can give you immortality,” she whispered. “Only I.”
Brutus let Cornelia’s head drop back to the pillow. “Sleep,” he said, “for we are both tired.”
Then he sighed, and rolled away, and Cornelia was left staring at his back.
sevejMGeejsi •IVOU LAY WITH HER.”
Genvissa’s voice was harsh, her stance stiff and unyielding. They were walking along the northern line of the walls, in eting the trenches and foundations.
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