"Shut up, you beast," hissed Calla, for Gwenhwyfar's eyes had filled with tears. Morgaine's head was splitting with the aftermath of unsought trance; it seemed that little lights were crawling before her eyes, pale shining worms of color that would grow and spread over her whole field of vision. She knew she should let it pass, but even as that knowledge crossed her mind, she exploded, "I am so weary of that old jest! I am no village wise-woman, to meddle with birth charms and love potions and foretellings and spells. I am a priestess, not a witch!"

"Come, come," Meleas said peacefully. "Let Morgaine be. This sun is enough to make anyone see things that are not there; even if she did see blood spilt on the hearth, it is just as like that some lack-witted serving-man will overset a half-roasted joint here, and the red gravy spill down! Will you drink, lady?" She went to the bucket of water, dipped the ladle and held it out, and Morgaine drank thirstily. "I never heard that most prophecy came to aught-one might as well ask her when Elaine's father will finally catch and slay that dragon he goes off to pursue, in and out of season."

Predictably, the diversion worked. Calla jested, "If there was ever a dragon at all, and he was not merely seeking an excuse to go abroad from home when he was weary of the hearth!"

"If I were a man, and wedded to Pellinore's lady," Alienor said, "I might well prefer the company of a dragon I could not find, to the company of one in my bed."

"Tell me, Elaine," asked Meleas, "is there truly a dragon, or does your father follow it because it is simpler than seeing to his cows? Men need not sit and spin when there is war, but when there is peace, they may grow weary of the fowlyard and the pastures, I suppose."

"I have never seen the dragon," Elaine said. "God forbid. But something takes the cows from time to time, and once I did see a great slime trail in the fields, and smell the stench; and a cow lay there quite eaten away, and covered with a foul slime. Not the work of a wolf, that, nor even a glutton."

"Cows vanishing," jeered Calla. "The fairy folk are not, I suppose, too good Christians to steal a cow now and then, when the deer are not to be found."

"And speaking of cows," Gwenhwyfar said firmly, "I think I must ask Cai whether there is a sheep or a kid for slaughter. We need meat. Should the men come home this night or tomorrow, we cannot feed them all on porridge and buttered bread! And even the butter is beginning to fail in this heat. Come with me, Morgaine. I would that your Sight could tell me when we shall have rain! All of you, clear the thread and wool from the benches here, and put the work away. Elaine, child, take my embroidery work to my chamber and see that nothing spots it."

As they went toward the hallway, she said, low, "Did you truly see blood, Morgaine?"

"I dreamed," repeated Morgaine stubbornly.

Gwenhwyfar looked at her sharply, but there was real affection between them sometimes, and she did not pursue the subject. "If you did, God grant it be Saxon blood, and spilt far from this hearth. Come, let us ask Cai about the stock kept for meat. It is no season for hunting, and I have no wish to have the men about and hunting here when they come again." She yawned. "I wish the heat would break. We might yet have a thunderstorm -the milk was soured this morning. I should tell the maids to make clabber cheese with what's left of it, not throw it to the pigs."

"You are a notable housewife, Gwenhwyfar," Morgaine said wryly. "I would not have thought of that, so that it was out of my sight; but the smell of curd cheese clings so to the dairies! I would rather have the pigs well fattened."

"They are fat enough in this weather, with all the acorns ripe," said Gwenhwyfar, looking at the sky again. "Look, is that a flash of lightning?" Morgaine followed her eyes, seeing the streak of glare across the sky. "Aye. The men will come home wet and cold, we should have hot wine ready for them," she said absentmindedly, then started, as Gwenhwyfar blinked.

"Now do I believe, indeed, that you have the Sight-certainly there is no sound of hooves nor no word from the watchtower," Gwenhwyfar said. "I will tell Cai to be sure there is meat, anyway." And she went along the yard, while Morgaine stood, pressing her aching head with one hand.

This is not good. At Avalon she had learned to control the Sight, not let it slip upon her unawares, when she was not attending ... . Soon she would be a village witch indeed, peddling charms and prophesying boy- or girl-children and new lovers for the maidens, from sheer boredom at the pettiness of life among the women. The gossip bored her to spinning, the spinning beguiled her into trance ... . One day, no doubt, I would sink low enough to give Gwenhwyfar the charm she wants, so that she may bear Arthur a son ... barrenness is a heavy burden for a queen, and only once in these two years has she shown any sign of breeding.

Yet she found Gwenhwyfar's company, and Elaine's, endurable; most of the other women had never had a single thought beyond the next meal or the next reel of thread spun. Gwenhwyfar and Elaine had had some learning, and occasionally, sitting at ease with them, she could almost imagine herself peacefully among the priestesses in the House of Maidens. The storm broke just before sunset-there was hail that clattered in the courtyard and bounced on the stones, there was drenching rain; and when the watchtower called down the news of riders, Morgaine never doubted that it was Arthur and his men. Gwenhwyfar called for torches to light the courtyard, and shortly after, the walls of Caerleon were bulging with men and horses. Gwenhwyfar had conferred with Cai and he had slaughtered not a kid, but sheep, so there was meat roasting and hot broth for the men. Most of the legion camped all through the outer court and the field, and like any commander, Arthur saw to the encampment of his men and the stabling of their horses before he came into the courtyard where Gwenhwyfar awaited him.

His head was bandaged under his helmet, and he leaned a little on Lancelet's arm, but he brushed away her anxious query.

"A skirmish-Jute raiders along the coast. The Saxons of the treaty troops had already cleaned most of them away before we came there. Ha! I smell roast mutton-is this magic, when you did not know we were coming?"

"Morgaine told me you would come, and there is hot wine as well," said Gwenhwyfar.

"Well, well, it is a boon to a hungry man to have a sister who is gifted with the Sight," said Arthur, with a jovial smile at Morgaine which rasped on her aching head and raw nerves. He kissed her, and turned back to Gwenhwyfar.

"You are hurt, my husband, let me see to it-"

"No, no, I tell you it is nothing. I never lose much blood, you know that, not while I bear this scabbard about me," he said, "but how is it with you, lady, after these many months? I had thought ... "

Her eyes filled slowly with tears. "I was wrong again. Oh, my lord, this time I was so sure, so sure ... "

He took her hand in his, unable to express his own disappointment in the face of his wife's pain. "Well, well, we must certainly get Morgaine to give you a charm," he said; but he watched, his face momentarily setting into grim lines, as Meleas welcomed Griflet with a wifely kiss, holding her young swollen body proudly forward. "We are not yet old folk, my Gwenhwyfar."

But, Gwenhwyfar thought, I am not so young either. Most of the women I know, save for Morgaine and Elaine who are yet unwedded, have great boys and girls by the time they are twenty; Igraine bore Morgaine when she was full fifteen, and Meleas is fourteen and a half, no more! She tried to look calm and unconcerned, but guilt gnawed within her. Whatever else a queen might do for her lord, her first duty was to give him a son, and she had not done that duty, though she had prayed till her knees ached.