Someone softly but audibly whispered, Witch! Harlot! Morgaine colored, but her hands did not falter as she handed Accolon the cup. What is your magic? No magic, said Morgaine in her rich low voice. What brings you here so early in the year, Venerable? she asked him. What place at this court has one who has been reared in Avalon as a Druid? He said dryly, The Merlin of Britain is one of my councillors and has always been so, Gwen.
He said, Knew you not that Morgaine was here? Morgaine? Gwenhwyfar shook her head. And rightly so, a curse to the traitor who would have profaned it . I beg you forgive me, and go to your meat. Ah, God, Morgaine, why are we talking like this? You should go to your rest, cousin, and so should I-' I will go if
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