The wind was brisk and cold, and she walked at a good pace, glad of the cloak, threadbare and torn though it was. The morning was far advanced, and she was beginning to think of sitting herself down by the road and eating some of the cold fowl, when she heard hooves behind her on the road, overtaking her.

Her first thought was to continue on her way-she was bent on her own affairs and had as good a right to the road as any other traveller. Then, remembering the ruin of the farm, she took thought and went to the side of the road, concealing herself behind a bush. There was no way to tell what manner of folk travelled the roads now, with Arthur too busy keeping the peace against the Saxons to have much time to create peace in the countryside and protection along the roads. If the traveller seemed harmless, she might ask him what news; if not, well, she would lie here hidden until he was out of sight.

It was a solitary horseman, wrapped in a grey cloak and riding on a tall, lean horse; riding alone, with no servant or pack horse. No, but he bore a great pack behind him-no, not that either; it was that his body was hunched over in the saddle-and then she knew who the man must be, and stepped out from her place of concealment.

"Kevin Harper!" she said.

He drew up his horse; it was well trained and did not rear or sidle. He looked down at her, scowling, his mouth twisted in a sneer-or was it but the scars he bore?

"I have nothing for you, woman-" and then he broke off. "By the Goddess! It is the lady Morgaine-what do you here, madam? I had heard last year that you were in Tintagel with your mother before she died, but when the High Queen went south to her burying, she said no, you had not been there-"

Morgaine reeled and put out a hand to steady herself on her stick. "My mother-dead? I had not heard-"

Kevin dismounted, steadying himself against the horse's flank until he got his stick under him. "Sit you down here, madam-you had not heard? Where, in the name of the Goddess, have you been? The word came even to Viviane in Avalon, but she is now too old and too frail to go forth." But where I was, Morgaine thought, I heard it not. It may be that when I saw Igraine's face in the forest pool, then was she calling to me with the news, and I never knew. Pain wrenched at her heart; she and Igraine had grown so far from each other-they had parted soon after she was eleven years old and gone forth to Avalon-yet now it tore at her with anguish, as if she were that same little girl who had wept when she left Igraine's house. Oh, my mother, and I knew nothing of it ... . She sat at the edge of the road, tears streaming down her face. "How did she die? Have you heard?"

"Her heart, I believe; it was a year ago in the spring. Believe me, Morgaine, I heard nothing but that it was natural and expected for her years."

For a moment Morgaine could not control her voice enough to speak; and with the grief, there was terror, for clearly she had dwelt out of the world longer than she had thought possible ... . Kevin said, a year ago in the spring. So more than one spring had gone by while she lingered in the fairy country! For in the summer when she left Arthur's court, Igraine had not even been ailing! It was not a question of how many months she had been gone, but how many years!

And could she get Kevin to tell her, without revealing where she had been?

"There is wine in my saddlebag, Morgaine-I would offer it to you, but you must get it for yourself. ... I walk not well at the best of times. You look thin and pale, are you hungry too? And how is it that I find you on this road, clothed"-Kevin wrinkled his brow in fastidious distaste- "worse than any beggar woman?"

Morgaine cast about in her mind for what she could say. "I have dwelt ... in solitude, and away from the world. I have not seen nor spoken with any man for I know not how long. I had lost count even of the seasons." And this much was true, for whatever the folk of the fairy country might be, they were not mankind.

"I can well believe it," said Kevin. "I could believe even that you had not heard of the great battle-"

"I see that this country has been all burned over."

"Oh, that was three years ago," said Kevin, and Morgaine started back. "Some of the treaty troops broke their vows and came all through this country, looting and burning. Arthur took a great wound at that battle and lay abed for half a year." He saw Morgaine's troubled face and mistook her concern. "Oh, he does well enough now, but all that time he did not set foot to the ground-I imagine he felt the want of your healing skills, Morgaine. Then Gawaine led down all of Lot's men from the North and we had peace for three years. And then this summer past there was the great battle at Mount Badon-Lot died in that battle-aye, there was a victory, such as bards will sing for a hundred years," Kevin said. "I do not think there is a Saxon chief left unkilled in all this land from Cornwall to Lothian, save those who call Arthur their king. There has been nothing like it since the days of the Caesars. And now all this land lies under the peace of Arthur."

Morgaine had risen and gone to the saddlebags. She found the flask of wine, and Kevin said, "Bring the bread and cheese too. It is near noon and I will eat here with you." When she had served him and opened her roll of leather with the remains of the chicken, offering it, he shook his head.

"Thank you, but I eat no flesh food now, I am under vows.... I marvel to see you eat meat, Morgaine, a priestess of your rank-"

"That or go fasting," said Morgaine, and told him how the chicken had come to her. "But I have not observed that prohibition since I left Avalon. I eat such things as are set before me."

"For myself, I think it makes little matter, flesh or fish or grain," Kevin said, "though the Christians make much of their fasting-at least this Patricius who is Arthur's bishop now. Before that, the brethren who dwelt with us upon Avalon used to repeat a saying of their Christ, that it was not what went into a man's mouth that defiled him, but what came out of it, and therefore man should eat humbly of all the gifts of God. And so I have heard Taliesin say. But for myself-no doubt you know that at a certain level of the Mysteries, what is eaten has so much effect on the mind-I dare not eat meat now, it makes me drunker than too much wine!"

Morgaine nodded-she had had that experience too. 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.

"But where do you go now, Morgaine?" And when she told him, he stared as if she were mad. "To Caerleon? Why? There is nothing there- or perhaps you did not know, though I find that hard to believe.... Arthur gave it to one of his knights who served him well at that battle. But on the day of Pentecost he moved his whole court to Camelot-it will be a year this summer that he has dwelt there. Taliesin liked that not, that he opened his court upon the Christian holy day, but he did it to please his queen-he listens to her in all things." Morgaine surprised a faint grimace on his face. "But then if you had not heard of the battle, it is likely you had not heard how Arthur betrayed the folk of Avalon and the Tribes."

Morgaine stopped the cup halfway to her lips. She said, "It is for that I came, Kevin. I heard that Raven had broken her silence and prophesied some such thing as that ... ."

"It was more than prophecy," said the bard. He stretched his leg uneasily, as if sitting for long in one position on the ground hurt him.

"Arthur betrayed-what did he do?" Morgaine's breath caught. "He did not give them into the hands of the Saxons ... ?"

"You have not heard, then. The Tribes were sworn to follow the banner of the Pendragon, as they swore at his kingmaking, and Uther's before him ... and the little folk of the days before the Tribes, they came too, with their bronze axes and flint hatchets and elf-arrows-no more than the fairy folk can they bear cold iron. All, all sworn to follow the Great Dragon. And Arthur betrayed them ... he put away the dragon standard, even though we begged him that he should let Gawaine or Lancelet bear it into the field. But he swore that he would raise only his banner of the cross and the Holy Virgin into the field at Mount Badon. And so he did."