He smiled, and now she could see the traces of pain and grief-yes, even of madness-around his eyes. "Why, I hardly knew it was hither I came, cousin. My memory plays tricks on me, now. I was mad, Morgaine. I cast away my sword and lived like an animal in the forests, and then there was a time, I know not how long, that I was confined in a strange dungeon."

"I saw it," she whispered. "I knew not what it meant."

"Nor did I, nor do I yet," Lancelet said. "I remember very little of that time-it is God's blessing, I think, that I cannot remember what I might have done. I think it was not the first time-there were times, during those years with Elaine, that I hardly knew what I did ... ."

"But you are well now," she said quickly. "Come and breakfast with me, cousin-it is too early for anything else, for whatever reason you came here."

He followed her, and Morgaine took him into her dwelling; except for her attendant priestesses, he was the first person who had entered it in years. There was fish from the Lake, this morning, and she served him with her own hands.

"Ah, this is good," he said, and ate hungrily-she wondered how long it had been since he had last remembered to eat. His hair was as fastidiously combed as ever, his curly hair-all grey now, and patches of white in his beard-neatly trimmed, and his cloak, though shabby and travel-worn, was neatly brushed and clean. He saw her glance at the cloak and laughed a little.

"In the old days I would not have used this cloak for a saddle blanket," he said. "I lost cloak and sword and armor, I know not where-it may be that I was robbed of them in some evil adventure, or cast them away in madness. I know only that one day I heard someone speak my name, and it was one of the Companions-Lamorak, perhaps, though it is still very hazy in my mind. I was too weak to travel, but though he rode on the next day, I began slowly to remember who I was, and they gave me a gown and let me sit to table to eat with my knife instead of throwing me scraps in a wooden piggin-" His laugh was shaky, nervous. "Even when I knew not that I was Lancelet, I had still my accursed strength, and I think I had done some of them harm. I think I lost the best part of a year out of my life. ... I remember only little things, and the main thought in my mind was never to let them know I was Lancelet, lest I bring shame on the Companions or Arthur ... " He fell silent, and Morgaine guessed at his torment by what he did not say. "Well, slowly I grew strong enough to travel, and Lamorak had left money for a horse and goods for me. But most of that year is darkness-"

He picked up the remaining bread on his plate and resolutely mopped up the scraps of fish. Morgaine asked him, "What of the quest?"

"What indeed? I have heard a little," he said, "here and there, here and there, as I rode in the land. Gawaine was the first to return to Camelot."

Morgaine smiled, almost against her will. "He was always fickle-to everything and everyone."

"Except to Arthur," Lancelet said. "He is more loyal to Arthur than any of his dogs! And I met with Gareth as I rode hither."

Morgaine said, "Dear Gareth, he is the best of Morgause's sons! What said he to you?"

"He said he had had a vision," Lancelet said slowly, "which bade him return to court and do his duty by his king and his lands, and not to delay, loitering about and seeking visions of holy things. And he talked a long time with me, begging me to lay aside the quest of the Grail and return to Camelot with him."

"I am surprised you did not," Morgaine said.

He smiled. "I am surprised too, kinswoman. And I have promised to return as soon as I can." Suddenly, his face grew grave. "Gareth told me," he said, "that Mordred is always about Arthur now. And when I would not return to court with him, he told me this-that what I could best do for Arthur was to find Galahad and bid him return at once to Avalon, for he mistrusted Mordred and his influence upon Arthur. ... I am sorry to speak ill of your son, Morgaine."

Morgaine said, "He told me once that Galahad would not live to rule ... yet he swore to me, by an oath I do not think he would dare break, that he would have no hand in his death."

Lancelet looked troubled. "I have seen many evil adventures that may befall on this accursed quest. God grant that I can find Galahad before he falls prey to one of them!" A silence fell between them, while Morgaine thought, I knew it in my heart-this was why Mordred refused the quest. She realized, quite suddenly, that she had ceased to believe that her son Gwydion -Mordred-would ever now be King from Avalon. She wondered when she had begun to accept that in her heart. Perhaps it had been when Accolon died and the Goddess did not stretch forth her hand to protect her chosen.

Galahad will be King, and he will be a Christian king.

And that may well mean that he will kill Gwydion. What of the King Stag, when the young stag is grown? But if the day of Avalon had ended, perhaps Galahad would take his throne in peace, without the need to kill his rival.

Lancelet laid down the remnant of a piece of bread and honey and looked past her at the corner of the room. "Is that Viviane's harp?"

"Yes," she said. "I left mine at Tintagel. But I suppose it is yours by right of inheritance if you want it."

"I play no longer, nor do I have any will to make music, Morgaine. By right it is yours, as are all other things which belonged to my mother."

Morgaine recalled words which had cut her to the heart-again, a lifetime ago!-7 would that you were not so much like my mother, Morgaine! Now the memory held no pain, but warmth; Viviane was not gone entirely from the world if something survived in her. He said, stumbling, "There are now so few of us-so few who recall the old days at Caerleon-even at Camelot-"

"Arthur is there," she said, "and Gawaine, and Gareth, and Cai, and many more, my dear. And no doubt they ask one another with every day, Where is Lancelet? Why are you here, and not there?"

"I said, my mind plays me tricks-I hardly knew I came hither," Lancelet said. "Yet now I am here, I should ask-I heard Nimue was here," and she remembered: she had told him this, once, when he had thought his daughter at the convent where once Gwenhwyfar had been. "I should ask, what has become of her-is she well, does she thrive among the priestesses?"

"I am sorry," Morgaine said. "It seems I have nothing but ill news for you-Nimue died, a year ago."

More than this she would not say. Lancelet knew nothing of the Merlin's betrayal, or of Nimue's last visit to the court. It could only grieve him to know the rest. He asked no questions, only sighed heavily, and cast his eyes on the floor. At last he said without looking up, "And the baby -little Gwenhwyfar-she is married, and in Less Britain, and this quest has swallowed Galahad. I never knew any of my children. I never tried to know them-it seemed to me they were all I could give Elaine, and so I left them to her almost entirely, even the boy. I rode for a time with Galahad when first we departed from Camelot, and I knew more of him in the ten days and nights we rode together than in all the sixteen years he had lived. I think perhaps he would make a good king, if he lives ... ."

He looked at Morgaine, almost pleading, and she knew he was longing for reassurance, but she had no comfort for him. At last she said, "If he lives, he will be a good king, but I think he will be a Christian king." It seemed that for a moment all the sounds of Avalon were hushed around her, as if the very waves of the Lake and the whispering sound of the reeds on the border were silent to hear her say it. "If lie survives the quest of the Grail -or if he should abandon it-still his rule will be circled about by the priests, and through all the land there will be only one God and only one religion."