And to admit that he was as wrong as I… was I to be allowed to breathe, and to take pleasure in life? My arms tightened about my son, and I looked once more at my husband.
‘We are doomed to each other,” he said again. His face became ever more drawn and exhausted with each word. “The gods will have it no other way. Cornelia, I need to know, do you dream of another man? I could not bear being married to a woman who—”
‘No!” I said. “If I taunted you with Melanthus, that was to be cruel, to punish you for his death. And Corineus… you accuse me of lusting after Corineus, and I do not. If I smile at him, it is merely because he has been kind to me.”
‘And your dreams? Why do you laugh in your dreams?”
‘I do dream of this land toward which we sail. Not of a man, but of green meadows and secret places.
And also of this great stone hall that you mentioned. There is a child who plays there, and I think she is our daughter. Brutus, how did you know of this hall? Did you also dream of it?”
‘Aye.” His eyes were veiled now, and I wondered at his thoughts. “But I do not see this child.”
‘If we both dream of this hall, then it must be.”
‘Perhaps,” he said, and his tone was cooler than ever. Then he sighed, and his face relaxed a little. “If we can trust each other, Cornelia, perhaps…”
‘Yes,” I said, so relieved I swear my eyes were brimming all over with tears again. “Yes.”
We stared at each other a long time, then he forced a smile to his mouth, and looked once more at the baby. “Aethylla said that after all your weeping and wailing and cursing, the instant you laid eyes on our son you changed. She said she saw it.”
‘Aye. I loved him, even though I had hated him ever since I first knew he was growing inside me. I could not believe that I”—my eyes flew to his—”that we had made this between us, between all our hatred. I could not believe it, and yet there he lay.”
He sighed, then stood. “Make your peace with Aethylla, Cornelia. We cannot afford to war with each other.”
He walked to the door, and then turned back once more. “The child, is there a name you wish to call him?”
Would I never stop weeping? I did not realize a single woman could have so many tears inside her, or that she could ebb between despair and joy so many times in a single night. “You choose,” I said. “He will be a king in your steps.”
He stared at me a long time. Then… “We shall name him Achates.”
‘It is a good name,” I said, and he nodded, and left.
‘Achates,” I whispered, and kissed my son’s head.
PART FOUR LONDON, MARCH oesAsterion have Cornelia?” said Stella. “Ah, my love, I cannot answer that. You know it. I may not speak of him.”
Skelton regarded her bitterly, wishing he could step back three thousand years and do everything so differently. Wishing he could have forced the truth from her then. Wishing he could do so now.
Something in her face shifted, and Skelton saw the yearning deep within her.
“The remaining kingship bands?” she said. “Are they safe?”
“Is it you who asks, orAsterion?” he said.
Her eyes filled with tears, and she dropped her gaze.
” This is the last opportunity we will have. The last Gathering,” Skelton said softly. “What chance do we have, Stella ?”
“There is always hope,” she whispered, still not looking at him.
“Do you think I find comfort in cliches?” Skelton said. “Look!” He took the newspaper he’d kept folded under his arm and shook it out. “Look!”
Despite herself, and even knowing what it revealed, she glanced down at The Times. “Munich Betrayed!” screamed the headline .
“Hitler has invaded Czechoslovakia,” Skelton said. “The Rhineland, Austria, and the Sudentenland have all gone. Now Czechoslovakia. Asterion is behind this. I can smell it.”
She said nothing.
G ” This is a bleak tide indeed sweeping down upon us,” he said. “Aimed at you… at me… at that.” He jerked the newspaper towards St. Paul’s. “This time he is going to destroy the Game completely, and you and me and Cornelia with it. The world with it, Stella . Everything.”
Now Stella looked further down the Thames to where the Houses of Parliament rose in the distance. “Perhaps —
” Them? They are merely the tired sons of a long line of tired aristocrats. They can do nothing against what Asterion is going to throw at London this time. Ye gods, Stella, have you not thought of what weaponry Asterion can use now? Have you not thought of what he can do with it ?”
” Brutus—”
“Don’t call me that! Brutus died a long time ago, a sad, broken, hateful man. I stand here now.”
He drew in a deep breath. “What I need to know, Stella my dear, is whether I stand alone. Are you with me? Can you do what is needed?”
Stella turned aside her face as answer, and Skelton’s expression hardened.
“Tell Asterion,” he hissed, “that if he wants the remaining kingship bands, then he is going to have to kill me to get them!”
And then he was gone, his footsteps ringing out into the night.
“He is going to kill us all,” Stella whispered. “You should know that by now, Brutus.”
LLANGARLIAHE ROSE FROM HER BED, AND WALKED NAKED from the house to greet the dawn.
They had survived, and had they not, Genvissa would have hunted through this world and the next to tear the senseless Cornelia apart.
To expose Brutus to such danger!
Genvissa drew in a very deep breath, more angry than she’d ever been in her life… and yet, puzzled also, for through all of this she had felt Mag much closer than she’d felt her for many long months.
Did it have something to do with Blangan?
Suddenly all of Genvissa’s ill-humor dissolved, and a small smile curved her lips.
Blangan was with Brutus’ fleet. And when Brutus’ fleet drew close… suddenly Mag felt much closer than she had for months.
Blangan. Of course.
Mag had fled to Blangan. Genvissa should have thought of it before.
Well, wasn’t Mag the senseless one as well? Now she was as trapped as poor, almost-dead Blangan.
A slow grin lifted her mouth. Bad place to hide, Mag .
Cheered, Genvissa walked back inside to wash and robe for the day.
Some good had come of the day, after all. Not only had she realized where Mag had secreted herself, but Cornelia’s petulant adventure had resulted in Membricus’ death. Genvissa splashed cold water over her face, singing under her breath. Membricus had been a nasty, horrid little man. A nuisance with too much hold over Brutus.
Now he was gone, and there was no one, no one , to stand between Genvissa and Brutus.
Not now she knew where Mag was.
O * * * ASTEJR7ON SHIVERED, SEEMING FOR THE FIRST TIME TO BE aware of his surroundings. He looked up, staring at the alps soaring to either side of him, feeling the murderous intensity of the wind.
It was, finally, time to leave this place and this body, time to arrange his rebirth in circumstances infinitely more suited to his plan.
An image of Brutus’ golden kingship bands flashed into Asterion’s mind, and his tongue flickered over his lips. How he wanted those bands!
Asterion picked up the twisted bone-handled knife, running a finger along its edge to test its mettle.
The blade sliced open his finger with only the slightest of pressures, and Asterion grinned.
“I wonder,” he said, “if Genvissa knows of that vow Ariadne made to me when I taught her the darkcraft? That if she reneged on her word, then she became my creature entirely. I wonder if Genvissa possibly knows the implications of that? No, I think not, for if she did then she would be beside herself with terror.”
He laughed, soft and joyous. “How shall it be, Genvissa, when I stand before you and demand what is mine? How deeply shall you cringe before me, Genvissa?”
Then, even as he continued to laugh, Asterion put the blade to that vulnerable flesh at the juncture of neck and shoulder and without hesitation pushed it in to the hilt of the twisted bone haft.
Instantly blood pumped from his neck, and while he still had the strength, Asterion tore the knife downwards, further opening the tear in his flesh.
Blood poured down his chest, pooling between his still-crossed legs, then expanding out to fill the heart of the labyrinth Asterion had drawn in the earth.
Asterion continued laughing, but the sound was wet and horrible now, and bloodied froth bubbled out of his mouth. He maintained both laughter and posture as long as he was able but, as the blood emptied out of him, his laughter came to an end, and his dying body pitched forward.