When Morgaine came back to her seat at the start of the second half of the entertainment, she looked pale and angry; her hands, Morgause noted, were shaking, and her breath coming fast in her throat. I do not know what I want, she wept, and let him hold her, sobbing. The priests trust not the second son-Accolon-because he wears the serpents. Then who? She did not speak; he leaned over and took her shoulders so roughly that for a moment she was afraid of the warrior as she had never been of the lover.
No, we did not fail. Even when she was out of danger, she did not recover her strength, but lay in a dreary apathy, unmoving, tears sliding down her face. A portent. We pray always for her, said the nun, for, though I do not know her name, she was said to be the friend and benefactor of our good King Arthur in the days that were gone.
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