"Gwenhwyfar! Cousin, look at me, speak to me! Ah, may the holy Virgin help us. ... Send for the midwife! Look, the blood-"

"Kevin," Gwenhwyfar screamed, "Kevin has cursed my child-" and she drew herself up frantically, pain lashing through her, beating with her fists against the stone wall. "Ah, God help me, send for the priest, the priest, perhaps he can take away this curse-" and, ignoring the gushing of water and blood that now she could feel drenching her thighs, she dragged herself to the banner she had woven, signing herself with the cross again and again in a frenzy, before it all vanished in darkness and nightmare.

IT WAS DAYS LATER that she understood she had been dangerously ill, that she had come near to bleeding to death when she miscarried the four-months child which was too small and weak to breathe.

Arthur. Now for certain he must hate me, I could not even bring his son to birth ... . Kevin, it was Kevin who cursed me with his serpents ... . She wandered in evil dreams of serpents and spears, and once when Arthur came to her side and tried to hold her head, she started away in terror from the serpents which seemed to writhe on his wrists.

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. She had not even the strength to wipe them away. No, it was folly to think Kevin had cursed her, that must have been a madness of her delirium ... this was not the first child she had miscarried, and if there was any fault it was her own, for staying here where she could not have fresh air and fresh food and exercise and the company of her ladies.

Her house priest came to her, and he too agreed that it was madness to think that Kevin had cursed her ... . God would not use the hands of a pagan priest to chastise her. "You must not be so quick to assign blame to others," he said severely. "If there is fault, it must be your own. Is there any unconfessed sin on your conscience, lady Gwenhwyfar?"

Unconfessed? No. For long ago she had confessed her love for Lancelet and been absolved, and she had striven to keep her thoughts only on her lawful lord. No, it could not be that ... and yet she had failed.

"I could not persuade-I was not strong enough to persuade Arthur to lay aside his pagan serpents and the Pendragon banner," she said weakly. "Would God punish my child for that?"

"Only you know what lies on your conscience, lady. And speak not of punishment for the child ... he is in the bosom of Christ ... but it is you and Arthur being punished, if there is punishment, which," he added primly, "I must not presume to say."

"What can I do to atone? What can I do that God may send Arthur a son for Britain?"

"Have you truly done all you may to assure that Britain shall have a Christian king? Or do you hold back the words you know you must speak, because you wish to please your husband?" the priest asked austerely. And when he had gone away, she lay looking at the banner. Every night now, she knew, the northern lights burned in the sky, in portent of the great battle that was to come; yet once, a Roman emperor had seen the sign of the cross in the sky, and the fate of all Britain had been changed. Could she but bring such a sign to Arthur ...

"Come, help me get up," she said to her woman. "I must finish the banner for Arthur to carry into battle."

Arthur came that night to her chambers, just as she set the last stitches to it, and the women were lighting the lamps.

"How is it with you now, my dear one? I am glad to see you up again, and well enough to work," he said, and kissed her. "Dearest, you must not grieve so... no woman could bring a healthy child to birth under this strain, with the battle impending at any moment-I should have sent you to Camelot, indeed. We are young still, my Gwenhwyfar, God may yet send us many children." But she saw the vulnerable look on his face, and knew he shared her sorrow.

She clasped his hand and drew him down beside her on the bench where she sat before the banner. "Is it not fair?" she said, and thought she sounded like a child begging for praise.

"It is very beautiful. I thought I had never seen so fine work as this" - and he laid his hand on the crimson-worked scabbard of Excalibur that never left his side-"but this is finer still."

"And I have woven prayers for you and your Companions into every stitch," she said, in entreaty. "Arthur, listen to me-do you think, could it not be, God has punished us because he feels we are not fit to give this kingdom another king, you and I, unless we will vow ourselves to serve him faithfully, not in pagan ways but in the new way under Christ? All the forces of pagan evil are allied against us, and we must fight it with the cross.

He laid his hand over hers and said, "Come, dear love, this is folly. You know I serve God as best I may ... ."

"But you still raise that pagan banner of serpents over your men," she cried, and he shook his head in distress.

"Dear love, I cannot break faith with the Lady of Avalon who set me on my throne-"

"It was God, and no other, who set you on your throne," she said earnestly. "Ah, Arthur, if you love me, do this, if you wish for God to send us another child! Do you not see how he has punished us by taking our son to himself?"

"You must not speak so," he said firmly. "To think God would do so is superstitious folly. I came to tell you at last the Saxons are massing, and we shall move to give them battle at Mount Badon! I would now that you were well enough to ride to Camelot, but it cannot be-not yet-"

"Ah, I know it well, I am only an encumbrance to you," she cried out bitterly. "I was never more to you-it is a pity I did not die with my babe."

"No, no, you must not speak so," he said tenderly. "I have every confidence that with my good sword Excalibur and all my Companions, we shall triumph. And you must pray for us night and day, my Gwenhwyfar." He rose and added, "We will not march till daybreak. I will try to come and take leave of you this night before we march, and your father too, and Gawaine and perhaps Lancelet-he sent you greetings, Gwenhwyfar, he was very troubled when he heard you were so ill. Can you speak to them if they come?"

She bent her head and said bitterly, "I will do my king and my lord's will. Yes, let them come, though I wonder you trouble to ask my prayers -I cannot even persuade you to put away that pagan banner and raise the cross of Christ ... . And no doubt God knows your heart, since God will not let you ride forth into battle believing that any son of yours shall rule this land, because you have not yet resolved to make this a Christian land ... ."

He stopped and let her hand go, and she could feel him looking down at her. At last he bent and put his hand under his chin and raised her face to look at his. He said quietly, "My dear lady, my own dear love, in God's name, believe you that?"

She nodded, unable to speak, wiping her nose like a child on the sleeve of her gown.

"I tell you, dear lady, before God, I believe it not, that God works in such ways, nor that it matters so much what banner we carry. But if it matters thus to you-" He paused and swallowed. "Gwenhwyfar, I cannot bear to see you in such distress. If I bear this banner of Christ and the Virgin into battle over my troops, will you cease to mourn, and pray to God for me with your best heart?"

She looked up at him, transformed, her heart lifting with a wild joy. Would he indeed do this for her? "Oh, Arthur, I have prayed, I have prayed-"

"Then," said Arthur, with a sigh, "I swear it to you, Gwenhwyfar- I shall carry only your banner of Christ and the Virgin into battle, and no other sign shall be raised above my legion. So be it, amen." He kissed her, but Gwenhwyfar thought he looked very sad. She clasped his hands and kissed them, and for the first time, it seemed that the serpents on his wrists were nothing, mere faded pictures, and that she had indeed been mad to think they could have power to harm her or her child.