Hades’ Daughter. Book One of the Troy Game by Sara Douglass

‘Yes,” she said. “Both land and city will be the most wondrous the world has ever, or will ever, know.”

‘You must know, Genvissa, how dangerous the Game is.”

‘We will be able to endure it,” she said, favoring him with a smile.

‘It will take many months to re-create the Game,” he said. “And we will both need to live through

those months, otherwise we will destroy both ourselves and this land.” Brutus knew he had to emphasize that point. Gods, if either of them died before the Game was completed…

‘We are both young and strong. We can live a few more months, I expect.” No need , she thought, to mention Asterion . He could do nothing to stop them.

GI ‘Imagine the power,” she said, very softly. “Imagine, Brutus. You and I, tied forever together in the stones of Troia Nova.”

He took a deep breath, seduced both by her sexuality and by the power she offered. Immortality.

They would live forever in the stones of the city.

Brutus dragged his thoughts back to the present and looked at Aerne.

‘Your people?” he said. “The Game is foreign and powerful magic. Will they accept it?”

‘If it means security for their lives and life for their children and livestock, then, yes, they will accept it in the same manner I have.”

Brutus frowned slightly. Aerne’s voice had not been as certain as he would have liked. “There will be some opposition?” he said.

Genvissa shrugged slightly. “No doubt some people will raise their voice against it. But they will be few.” And easily silenced . “Brutus,” she said, leaning far enough over the table that she could place her hand over his. “We have talked enough for today. I will come for you tomorrow, and show to you the Veiled Hills. Show to you the site where we will build our fabulous city. For the moment, go back to your house—you are comfortable enough?—and rest, and tell your companions that your journeying is done.”

They rose, making superficial comments about the food, the fine weather, the beauty of the view from the porch of the Assembly House, then, as they were about to go their separate ways, Genvissa turned one last time to Brutus. Best to dispose of Cornelia now.

‘Your wife? She is well? It is just that I heard she has recently had a child…”

For some reason Brutus thought of that night under the stars on their journey north when Cornelia had turned to him with such wild abandon. He smiled crookedly, the memory showing in his eyes.

‘Oh, yes, she is well,” he said.

Something in Genvissa’s face froze, then she smiled easily. “I heard you had some trouble at Mag’s Dance, Brutus. Do ask Cornelia about it. I believe she witnessed it all.”

And with that she took Aerne’s arm and led him away.

Brutus stared at their retreating backs, and he did not think at all of the fact that Genvissa had referred to her older sister’s death only as “some trouble.”

All he could think about was that Cornelia had lied to him. Again.

AS AERNE AND GENVISSA WATCHED BRUTUS STRIDE down the hill to where Coel waited with the horses, Aerne said, “What did you G2

mean when you said to Brutus that he had some trouble at Mag’s Dance? What happened at Mag’s Dance?”

‘A trifling incident only,” Genvissa said, and kissed Aerne’s cheek. “Do not fret about it. It need only concern Brutus and his wife.” There was no need for Aerne to know that Mag’s Dance was where Og had met his death.

FOUROEL SHOT BRUTUS A LOOK AS THEY REMOUNTED AND headed back across the ford—their horses had to struggle through almost chest-high water now that the tide had begun to rise—and wisely decided to make no comment. He wondered what had happened on Tot mount to have made Brutus this dark with anger.

As their horses clambered up the eastern bank of the Llan Coel’s eyes drifted to the north, to where the Veiled Hills sat behind their protecting cloak of mist.

He could feel Loth there, standing on the northern bank, staring out toward Llanbank with his strange, angry eyes.

Waiting.

They had to speak. Soon.

But not before Coel discovered what had happened on Tot Hill.

BRUTUS JUMPED DOWN FROM HIS HORSE, AND STRODE into the house without so much as a word or a glance for Coel.

Inside, Corineus and Hicetaon jumped up from their stools about the hearth.

‘Well?” said Hicetaon.

‘Have they agreed?” said Corineus.

‘Yes,” Brutus said, then proceeded to ignore them both. He strode over to where Cornelia sat, cuddling Achates. He bent down, ignored the apprehension on her face, took his son, and handed him to Aethylla who, having taken one look at his face, retreated as far away within the circular house as she could.

‘Why do I pretend that I can trust you,” Brutus said, standing before Cor O nelia with straddled legs and hands half clenched at his sides, “when time and time again you show me how little you can be trusted?”

‘Brutus…” Corineus said, taking a careful pace toward him.

Brutus half raised a hand, and Corineus stopped dead. “Do not think to speak for her, Corineus, when she has kept her pretty mouth closed all this time about your wife’s death.”

Cornelia blanched, and shrank back. Now all eyes in the house were on her.

‘Cornelia?” Corineus said, half in question, half in confusion.

‘Did you witness Siangan’s death?” Brutus said to Cornelia.

She did not answer, her eyes huge and round, now flitting about the interior of the house as if someone might save her.

” Did you witness Siangan’s death?” Brutus said again.

She looked back to him, straightening her back and regaining a little composure. “Yes.”

‘What?” cried Hicetaon and Corineus together, although Corineus’ cry was distressed where Hicetaon’s was merely confounded.

‘Yes,” Brutus said softly, his gaze still riveted on Cornelia’s face. “And yet she has never thought to remark on the fact to any of us. Did you plan it, Cornelia? Is that why you have kept so silent? Did you aid in the doing, is that why you have kept your knowledge to yourself? Or is it just your vicious, du-plicitous nature not to remark on an event which has caused Corineus—

Cornelia flinched.

‘—so much grief and which”—Brutus’ voice rose to a shout—”the MagaLlan Genvissa has just thrown in my face? She knew—why didn’t I?”

One of his hands shot out, grabbed Cornelia by the arm, and hauled her to her feet. With the other he grabbed his knife from his belt, tossed it so that he held it by the blade, and thrust the hilt in Cornelia’s face. “Take this cursed knife now, and thrust it into my belly. No need to toy about behind my back.”

‘I was scared,” she said softly. “As I am now.”

‘Brutus,” Hicetaon said quietly, coming to stand by Brutus and Cornelia and taking the knife from Brutus’ hand. “We should hear what she has to say before we judge her harshly.”

‘The fact she has not spoken before now is her judgment,” Brutus said bitterly, but he let go Cornelia’s arm and stood back a pace.

Cornelia took a deep breath, glanced at Corineus, flushed, then looked back to Brutus.

‘That night Blangan disappeared, I woke, and saw her leave the house. I was curious, and followed.

No, do not ask what bred that curiosity, for I do not know… perhaps the god who destroyed Blangan.”

‘What ‘god’?” Brutus spat.

G Cornelia licked her lips, her hands clasping and unclasping before her. “I followed Blangan to the Stone Dance where I hid behind one of the great stones. She did not see me. I watched for some minutes—”

‘What was she doing?” Corineus asked, his voice breaking.

Cornelia’s eyes flickered to him, and her flush deepened. “She was walking about, tracing her hands about the stones. She looked… she looked as though she were remembering. I don’t know. How can I have known her mind?”

Her voice cracked on that last, and Brutus made a gesture of angered impatience.

‘Go on,” said Hicetaon.

‘I waited a long time, and I grew cold, and thought I should return to my bed. But before I could move, I heard Blangan cry out, and I saw… I saw…”

‘What?” cried Corineus. He had come close now, staring at Cornelia as if he could drag the words from her.

‘I saw a monstrous man enter the Stone Dance,” Cornelia said. “He was young, and muscular, and completely naked. If it had not been for his head I would have thought him most well made and pleasing.”

‘Cornelia…” said Brutus, and she hurried on.

‘He had bones growing from his head in four or five places. Like horns of a beast of the forest. His entire head and face was distended, as if the underlying bones bulged unnaturally. He… he stank of musk, and exuded an aura of such power and such bestiality that I cannot think him anything but a god, or an imp of some degree.”