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Morgaine laid aside the carded wool for spi
Arthur and his men, with the Caerleon legion, had ridden out to the southern coast, to examine the new fort that the Saxons of the treaty troops had built there. This summer had brought no raid, and it might well be that the Saxons, except for those who had made treaty with Arthur and were living peacefully in the Kentish country, would give up Britain for lost. Two years of Arthur's horse legion had reduced the Saxon fighting to a sporadic summer exercise; but Arthur had taken this season of quiet to fortify all the defenses of the coasts.
"I am thirsty again," said Pellinore's daughter, Elaine. "May I go, my lady, and ask for more pitchers of water to be sent?"
"Call Cai-he will attend to it," Gwenhwyfar said.
Morgaine thought: She has grown a great deal; from a scared and timid child she has become a queen.
"You should have married Cai when the King wished for it, lady Morgaine," said Elaine, returning from her errand and sitting down on the bench beside Morgaine. "He is the only man under sixty in the castle, and| his wife will never lie alone for half a year at a time."
"You are welcome to him, if you want him," Morgaine said amiably.
"I still wonder that you did not," Gwenhwyfar said, as if it were an | old grievance. "It would have been so suitable-Cai, the King's foster-brother and high in his favor, and you, Arthur's sister and Duchess of Cornwall in your own right, now that the lady Igraine never leaves her nu
Drusilla, daughter of one of the petty kings to the east, snickered. "Tell me, if the King's sister and brother marry, how is it other than incest?"
"Half-sister and foster-brother, you goose," said Elaine. "But tell me, lady Morgaine, was it only his scars and lameness that deterred you? Cai is no beauty, certainly, but he would be a good husband."
"I am not deceived by you," Morgaine retorted, pretending a good humor she did not feel-did these women think of nothing but marriages? "You care nothing for my wedded happiness with Cai, you merely wished for a wedding to break the monotony of the summer. But you should not be greedy. Sir Griflet was married to Meleas last spring, and that should be weddings enough for now." She glanced at Meleas, whose dress had already begun to grow tight over her pregnant body. "You will even have a babe to fuss and coo over this time next year."
"But you are long unmarried, lady Morgaine," said Alienor of Galis. "And you could hardly have hoped for a better match than the King's own foster-brother!"
"I am in no great haste to be wed, and Cai had no more mind to me than I to him."
Gwenhwyfar chuckled. "True. He has a tongue near as waspish as your own, and no sweet temper-his wife will need more patience than the saintly Brigid, and you, Morgaine, are ever ready with a sharp answer."
"And besides, if she should marry, she would have to spin for her household," Meleas said. "As usual, Morgaine is shirking her share of the spi
Morgaine shrugged. "It is true I had rather card wool, but there is no more to card," she said, and reluctantly took up the drop spindle.
"You are the best spi
"I have always been neat-handed. Perhaps I am simply tired of spi
True-she hated spi
the Caerleon legion went round the Saxons, and the Saxons went round them, round and round, as the blood went round in their veins, red blood flooding, flooding ... spilling over the hearth-
Morgaine heard her own shriek only after it had shattered the silence in the room. She dropped the spindle, which rolled away into the blood which flooded crimson, spilling, spurting over the hearth ... .
"Morgaine! Sister, did you prick your hand on the reel? What ails you?"
"Blood on the hearth-" Morgaine stammered. "See, there, there, just before the King's high seat, slain there like a slaughtered sheep before the King ... "
Elame shook her; dizzied, Morgaine passed her hand before her eyes. There was no blood, only the slow crawl of the afternoon sun.
"Sister, what did you see?" asked Gwenhwyfar gently.
Mother Goddess! It has happened again! Morgaine tried to steady her breathing. "Nothing, nothing ... I must have fallen asleep and dreamed for a moment."
"Didn't you see anything?" Calla, the fat wife of the steward, peered avidly at Morgaine. Morgaine remembered the last time, more than a year ago, when she had gone into trance over her spi
"If you are going to prophesy, Morgaine," teased Elaine, "you should tell us something sensible, like, when will the men be home so we may have the wine warmed, or whether Meleas is making swaddling bands for a girl or a boy, or when the Queen will get pregnant!"