And then what Viviane had said to her when she stood before her, so many years ago, suddenly rushed over her: you have reached a stage where obedience may be tempered with your own judgment ... and for a moment it seemed to her that her best judgment was to turn aside now, to say to Niniane only such words as might reassure her. And then the surge of resentment came over her at the thought that this child, this foolish and ordinary girl in the dress of a priestess, was presuming to sit where Viviane had sat and to give orders in the name of A valon. She had been chosen only because she was of the blood of Taliesin ... . How does she dare sit here and presume to give orders to me ... ?

She looked down at the girl, knowing, without being certain how, that she had taken upon herself the old glamour and majesty, and then, with a sudden surge of the Sight, it seemed to her that she read Niniane's thoughts.

She should be here in my place, Niniane was thinking, how can I speak with authority to Queen Morgaine of the Fairies ... and the thought was blurred, half with awe of the strange and powerful priestess before her, and half with simple resentment, if she had not fled from us and forsworn her duty, I would not now be struggling to fill a place for which we both know I am not fit.

Morgaine came and took her hands, and Niniane was surprised at her gentle voice.

"I am sorry, my poor girl, I would give my very life to return here and take the burden from you. But I cannot, I dare not. I cannot hide here and shirk my given task because I long for my home." It was no longer arrogance, nor contempt for the girl who had been thrust, unwilling, into the place which should have been hers, but simple pity for her. "I have begun a task in the West country which must be completed-if I leave it half done, it were better it had never been begun. You cannot take my place there, and so, may the Goddess help us both, you must keep my place here." She bent and embraced the girl, holding her tight. "My poor little cousin, there is a fate on us both, and we cannot escape it ... if I had stayed here, the Goddess would have worked with me one way, but even when I tried to flee my sworn duty, she brought it upon me elsewhere ... none of us can escape. We are both in her hands, and it is too late to say it would have been better the other way ... she will do with us as she will."

Niniane held rigidly aloof for a moment, then her resentment melted and she clung to Morgaine, almost as Nimue had done. Blinking back tears, she said, "I wanted to hate you-"

"And I, you, perhaps ... " Morgaine said. "But she has willed otherwise, and before her we are sisters...." Hesitantly, her lips reluctant to speak the words which had been withheld for so long, she added something else, and Niniane bent her head and murmured the proper response. Then she said, "Tell me of your work in the West, Morgaine. No, sit here beside me, there is no rank between us, you know that ... ."

When Morgaine had told her what she could, Niniane nodded. "Something of this I heard from the Merlin," she said. "In that country, then, men turn again to the old worship ... but Uriens has two sons, and the elder is his father's heir. Your task then is to make certain that Wales has a king from Avalon-which means that Accolon must succeed his father, Morgaine."

Morgaine closed her eyes and sat with bent head. At last she said, "I will not kill, Niniane. I have seen too much of war and bloodshed. Avalloch's death would solve nothing-they follow Roman ways there now, since the priests have come, and Avalloch has a son."

Niniane dismissed that. "A son who could be reared to the old worship -how old is he, four years old?"

"He was so when I came to Wales," said Morgaine, thinking of the child who had sat in her lap and clung to her with his sticky fingers and called her Granny. "Enough, Niniane. I have done all else, but even for Avalon, I will not kill."

Niniane's eyes flamed blue sparks at her. She raised her head and said, warning, "Never name that well from which you will not drink!"

And suddenly Morgaine realized that the woman before her was priestess, too, not merely the pliant child she had seemed; she could not be where she was, she could never have passed the tests and ordeals which went into the making of a Lady of Avalon, if she had not been acceptable to the Goddess. With unexpected humility, she realized why she had been sent here. Niniane said, almost in warning, "You will do what the Goddess wills when her hand is laid upon you, and that I know by the token you bear ... " and her eyes rested upon Morgaine's bosom as if she could see through the folds of the gown to the seed which lay there, or to the silver crescent on its leather thong. Morgaine bent her head and whispered, "We are all in her hands."

"Be it so," said Niniane, and for a moment it was so silent in the room that Morgaine could hear the splash of a fish in the Lake beyond the borders of the little house. Then she said, "What of Arthur, Morgaine? He bears still the sword of the Druid Regalia. Will he honor his oath at last? Can you make him honor it?"

"I do not know Arthur's heart," Morgaine said, and it was a bitter confession. I had power over him, and I was too squeamish to use it. I flung it away.

"He must swear again to honor his oath to Avalon, or you must get the sword from him again," said Niniane, "and you are the only person living to whom this task might be entrusted. Excalibur, the sword of the Holy Regalia, must not remain in the hands of one who follows Christ. You know Arthur has no son by his queen, and he has named the son of Lancelet, Galahad by name, to be his heir, since now the Queen grows old."

Morgaine thought, Gwenhwyfar is younger than I, and I might still bear a child if I had not been so damaged in Gwydion's birth. Why are they so certain she will never bear? But before Niniane's certainty she asked no questions. There was magic enough in Avalon, and no doubt they had hands and eyes at Arthur's court; and indeed the last thing they would wish would be that the Christian Gwenhwyfar should bear Arthur a son ... not now.

"Arthur has a son," said Niniane, "and while his day is not yet, there is a kingdom he can take-a place to begin the recapture of this land for Avalon. In the ancient ways, the king's son meant little, the son of the Lady was all, and the king's sister's son was his heir ... know you what I mean, Morgaine?"

Accolon must succeed to the throne of Wales. Morgaine heard it again, and then what Niniane did not say: And my son ....s the son of King Arthur. Now it all made sense. Even her own barrenness after Gwydion's birth. But she asked, "What of Arthur's heir-Lancelet's son?"

Niniane shrugged and for a moment Morgaine wondered, horrified, whether it was intended to give Nimue the same hold on Galahad's conscience that she had been given on Arthur's.

"I cannot see all things," said Niniane. "Had you been Lady here- but time has moved on and other plans must be made. Arthur may yet honor his oath to Avalon and keep the sword Excalibur, and then there will be one way to proceed. And he may not, and there will be another way which she will prepare, to which end we each have our tasks. But whether or no, Accolon must come to rule in the West country, and that is your task. And the next king will rule from Avalon. When Arthur falls-though his stars say he will live to be old-then the king of Avalon will rise. Or else, the stars say, such darkness will fall over this land that it will be as if he had never been. And when the next king takes power, then will Avalon return into the mainstream of time and history ... and then there will be a subject king over the western lands, ruling his Tribespeople. Accolon shall rise high as your consort-and it is for you to prepare the land for the great king from Avalon."