Damn them all, those unmannerly bastards! I think I liked it better when they were all our foes! You fought him No, said Gwenhwyfar clearly. When she had been drinking the sacred herbs, she could eat nothing but a little bread and fruit; even cheese or boiled lentils were too rich and made her ill. The soft, familiar voice, unchanged, just as she had heard it in dreams, said gently, Morgaine, my darling child, it is you! How I have longed to meet with you all these years.
Lancelet is of the old royal line of Avalon, and royal, too, in his blood from Ban of Less Britain. Arthur said quietly, I knew Morgaine hated me, but I did not know she hated me as much as this. At last he asked, Is Arthur ill? Gwenhwyfar shook her head. Beneath the hazel tree she looked across at Accolon, and while part of her mind was aware that this man was he
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