The Nameless Day by Sara Douglass

In his eagerness he pushed her a little way along the hard earth, and Odile gave a grunt of discomfort. Even in his almost maddened passion, Thomas pulled back a little from her, but then—

— the face of the younger woman again floated above that of Odile. She was frightened, close to tears, although she bit her lip and tried hard to keep them at bay.

She was so beautiful—

—the face vanished, and there was only Odile, laughing and encouraging him, teasing him about the amount of time he was taking to enter her.

Thomas groaned and, lifting his hips, thrust himself with all the force he could into—

— Lord God, she was a virgin! He heard his own cry of surprise, and heard her whimper with the pain of his penetration.

But he would not stop, not now, and so—

—he thrust even harder, and now he was inside her, and her pregnant belly pressed against his, and they were both writhing and moaning, impatient to sate their lust, and—

— again the face of the dark-eyed woman floated over Odile’s. Her bronze-colored hair was spread in thick waves over the linen cloth of the pillow… .

it was such stunning hair, ripples of gold running through it like the first fingers of fire through a velvet cloak left puddled too close to a hearth.

Ripples of gold, like a molten crown encircling her head.

She was staring straight into his eyes, shocked beyond even the pain of her deflowering.

“Meg,” said the man atop her. “What is wrong?”

“Meg,” Thomas muttered, his eyes shut now, lost in his vision, and Odile wrapped arms and legs about him as, rocking him back and forward, he murmured over and over, “Meg, Meg, sweet, sweet Meg.”

Odile laughed softly in triumph. They had succeeded!

“My lord” Meg whispered. “Forgive me. For a moment I had thought you beardless.”

And tonsured, like a monk, but this she did not say.

She touched the man’s face, wonderingly.

“I think you must drink your wine a little more wateredfrom now on, my dear”said the man.

And then he grunted, and thrust so deep within Margaret that she cried out in pain, and then he cried out too, thrust once more, and was still.

Thomas collapsed across Odile’s body, spent.

She ran her hand through the thickness of his black hair, marveling at the nakedness of his tonsure, and then trailed her hand down his face, turning it toward her.

His eyes flickered, and then opened, and he expected to see, not the face of Odile, but that of the beautiful woman with the bronze-colored hair.

“Thomas,” Odile whispered.

He blinked, still not truly seeing, a slow smile forming on his lips, his thoughts disordered in post-coital abandonment. “Meg?”

Odile lifted her hand, then struck him a light blow on his cheek. “You will live a charmed life, my dear,” she said.

Thomas stared, then his eyes widened as he seemed to come to his senses. He jumped to his feet, fumbling with his robe to cover himself.

“My God,” he said. “What have I done?”

“What have you done? Nothing but what I wanted, my dear. And that you did

very well. Particularly for a priest.”

Her voice had changed, become harder, coarser, and now Thomas wondered why he had ever thought her noble.

“Cover yourself!” Thomas said as he finally, gratefully, pulled his own robe over his body.

“Why?” Odile said. “Does not the sight of a woman’s body inflame you, Tom? Or does my belly worry you? Ah, yes, the last time a woman came to you with her belly this swollen you burned her, did you not, Tom? Ah, poor Alice. Poor sweet Alice.

But she burned well though, didn’t she?”

So stunned and horrified he did not truly think about what he did, Thomas leaned down and grabbed Odile’s arm, hauling her from the ground.

” Witch!” he cried, and shook her so violently she cried out in pain. She had drugged him! She had brought him here for no other purpose than to seduce him!

How did she know about Alice? Oh God, God, how did she know about Alice, and how she had died?

“One day,” she said, jerking the words out with hatred, “you will hand your soul to a woman on a platter, and you will offer her earth’s eternal damnation in return for her love!”

Thomas was now beyond reason. Fear such as he had never known before coursed through him. She had known about Alice! She was a sorceress! He lifted his hand, although he was not sure what he was gome to do with it—

“Stop,” a surprisingly calm voice said. “You shall harm no more women.”

Thomas jerked his eyes toward the voice, while to his side Odile smiled, leaned down to grasp her robe, and walked slowly away.

Thomas was hardly aware of her departure.

Instead, his eyes were glued to the demon standing some five paces away between himself and the mouth of the gorge.

CHAPTER EIGHT

The Friday before thefifth Sunday after Trinity

In the fjfty-first year of the reign of Edward III

(16th July 1378)

— III —

AS WAS THE CREATURE who had tormented him in the Brenner Pass, so was this one beautiful, but incomparably vile in the beauty.

“You think to emulate the loveliness of those you loathe,” Thomas said, trying to keep the fear from his face. Lord God, why had he allowed himself to he trapped in this manner?

“You mean the angels?” the demon said, and walked forward a few steps. Its creamy skin glowed with an unearthly radiance, and its huge eyes shone impossibly blue.

Now that one stood before him Thomas could see that it was slightly taller than a man, and more heavily muscled, although its entire carriage was one of elegance rather than ungainliness. Its hips were narrow, its legs well formed, and thick silvery hair, similar to that which covered its head, tufted above its genitals.

The demon smiled, revealing two perfect rows of tiny pointed teeth. “I have no choice but to emulate the angels, Tom.”

“We all have choice,” Thomas said. “God has given us choice. We can choose either the road to redemption, or the road to—”

“Stop being so tiresome!” the demon said. “Of course we all have choice, and I and my kin have chosen as best we can.”

The creature walked forward another two steps—it was now only three or four paces from Thomas—its movements exquisitely graceful.

The demon laughed softly at Thomas’ reaction. “Must we hobble and lurch to satisfy your preconceptions, priest? Why can we not have some goodness within our natures and bodies?”

Thomas almost backed away, then realized there was no escape for him in this blind gorge.

He was trapped. “You are evil!” he said.

“Ah, has the pretty angel told you that?” the creature said.

Thomas held his tongue. His terror had dissipated, and he felt only anger and a remaining burning humiliation at the way Odile had managed to tempt him. How had she known about Alice?

“We know all about you,” the demon said, and then smiled at the expression on Thomas’ face. “No, Odile was no demon—do not think you have wasted yourself inside one of our bodies!—but merely a beloved woman.” “She is a whore and a sorceress.”

The demon shrugged, then lifted one of its hands—its long fingers were tipped with sharp talons—and studied it carefully. “You do seem to attract them, don’t you, Tom?”

Suddenly it lifted its eyes back to Thomas. “No. Do not think you can overpower me. You can’t. Stay where you are, and listen.”

The demon waved its hand about the gorge. “Like many of my kind I come back here every so often. To remember, and to swear that never again will I, or any of my kind, be trapped.”

“What is this place?”

The demon laughed, genuinely amused. “You don’t think I will tell you, do you?

Well, I will! The Cleft is the gateway to hell, Thomas, the only one to be found on this dear, sweet earth … and Wynkyn de Worde was the only one who knew how to open it and close it at his leisure.”

“The book…”

“Yes. His nasty little book of incantations. And you think to call us witches and

sorcerers! Wynkyn de Worde was the last in a long, long line of human sorcerers who worked God’s will on earth, Tom.”

The demon’s brow wrinkled, as if he were thinking. “Sorcerer… nay, that is too kind a word for him! Wynkyn was a disposer of rubbish, Tom. He swept up the angels’ errors.”

“And now God and Saint Michael have chosen you to succeed him. No, no need to look so frightened, Tom. We have no intention of harming you. After all,” the demon laughed, “better the devil you know than the devil you don’t!” “All evil will fail. It must.”