"If I only had some proof, Arthur might listen to me," Gwydion said.

"Damn you, I am certain Arthur knows what there is to know. But it is for him to allow it or to interfere ... and he will hear no word against either of them." Gawaine swallowed and went on. "Lancelet is my kinsman, and my friend too. But-damn you-do you think I have not tried?"

"And what said Arthur?"

"He said that the Queen was above my criticism, and whatever she chose to do was well done. He was courteous, but I could tell that he knew what I was saying and was warning me not to interfere."

"But if it were drawn to his attention in a way he could not choose to ignore," Gwydion said quietly, considering, then raised his hand and beckoned. Niniane, seated at Arthur's feet, her hands still touching the strings of her harp, softly asked leave of Arthur, then rose and came to him.

"My lady," Gwydion said, "is it not true that she"- he inclined his head very slightly in Gwenhwyfar's direction-"often sends her women away for the night?"

Niniane said quietly, "She has not done so while the legion was away from Camelot."

"So at least we know the lady is loyal," said Gwydion cynically, "and does not distribute her favors wholesale."

"No one has ever accused her of common lechery," said Gareth angrily, "and at their ages-they are both older than you, Gawaine-whatever they are about cannot be much harm to anyone, I should think."

"No, I am serious," said Gwydion with equal heat. "If Arthur is to remain High King-"

"Mean you not," said Gareth angrily, "if you are to be High King after him-"

"What would you, brother? That when Arthur is gone I should turn over all this land to the Saxons?" Their heads were close together, and they were talking in furious whispers. Morgause knew they had forgotten not only her presence but her very existence.

"Why, I thought you loved the Saxons well," said Gareth, in angry scorn. "Would you not be content to have them rule, then?"

"No, hear me," said Gwydion in a rage, but Gareth grabbed at him again and said, "The whole of the court will hear you if you do not moderate your voices-look, Arthur is staring at you, he watched when Niniane came over here! Maybe Arthur is not the only one who should look to his lady, or-"

"Be silent!" Gwydion said, wrestling himself free of Gareth's hands.

Arthur called out to him, "What, do my loyal cousins of Lothian quarrel among themselves? I will have peace in my hall, kinsmen! Come, Gawaine, here's King Ceardig asking if you will have a game of riddles with him!"

Gawaine rose, but Gwydion said softly, "Here's a riddle for you- when a man will not mind his property, what's to be done by those who have an interest in it?"

Gawaine stalked away, pretending he did not hear, and Niniane bent over Gwydion and said, "Leave it for now. There are too many ears and eyes. You have planted the seed. Now speak to some of the other knights. Do you think you are the only one who saw-that?" and she moved her elbow just a little. Morgause, following the slight gesture, saw that Gwen-hwyfar was bending with Lancelet over a game board on their laps; their heads were close together.

"I think there are many who think it touches the honor of Arthur's Camelot," Niniane murmured. "You need only find some who are less- biased-than your brothers of Lothian, Gwydion."

But Gwydion was looking angrily at Gareth. "Lancelet," he muttered, "always Lancelet!" And Morgause, looking from Gwydion to her youngest son, thought of a small child prattling to a red-and-blue carved knight which he called Lancelet.

Then she thought of a younger Gwydion, following Gareth about like a puppy. Gareth is his Lancelet, she thought. What will come of this? But her disquiet was swallowed up in malice. Surely it is time, she thought, that Lancelet should have to answer for all he has wrought.

NINIANE STOOD at the crest of Camelot, looking down at the mists that surrounded the hill. She heard a step behind her, and said, without turning, "Gwydion?"

"Who else?" His arms came around her and held her tight, and she turned her face to kiss him. He demanded, without letting her go, "Does Arthur kiss you like that?"

She freed herself from his embrace to confront him. "Are you jealous of the King? Was it not you who told me to gain his confidence?"

"Already Arthur has had more than enough of what is mine-"

"Arthur is a Christian man-I will say no more than that," Niniane said, "and you are my dear love. But I am Niniane of Avalon, and I account to no man on this earth for what I do with what is mine-yes, mine and not yours. I am not Roman, to let some man tell me what I may do with what the Goddess gave me. And if you like that not, Gwydion, then I shall return to Avalon."

Gwydion smiled, the cynical smile she liked least about him.

"If you could find the way," he said. "You might find that not so easy any longer." Then the cynicism slipped from his face and he stood holding Niniane's hand lightly in his and said, "I care not what Arthur may do in the time remaining to him. Like Galahad, he may have his moments, for he will be a long time without them." He stared down at what looked like an ocean of mist surrounding Camelot. "When the mist clears we will see Avalon from here, perhaps, and Dragon Island." He sighed and said, "Did you know-some of the Saxons are moving into that country now, and there has been hunting of the deer on Dragon Island, though Arthur forbade it."

Niniane's face hardened in anger. "A stop must be put to that. The place is sacred, and the deer-"

"And the little folk who own the deer. But Aedwin the Saxon slaughtered them," Gwydion said. "He told Arthur that they shot at his men with poisoned elf-arrows, so he gave his men leave to kill as many of them as he could find. And now they hunt the deer-and Arthur will go to war against Aedwin, if he must. I wish Aedwin had a better cause-in honor I must fight to protect those who look to Avalon."

"And Arthur goes to war for their sakes?" Niniane was surprised. "I thought he had forsworn Avalon."

"Avalon, perhaps, but not the harmless folk from the island." Gwydion was silent, and Niniane knew he was remembering a day on Dragon Island. He slid his fingers along the tattooed serpents on his wrists, then pulled the sleeves of his Saxon tunic down over them. "I wonder, could I still pull down a King Stag with only my hands and a flint knife?"

"I doubt not that you could, if you were challenged," said Niniane. "The question is, could Arthur? For if he cannot ... "

She left the question hanging in the air, and he said somberly, watching the enclosing mist, "I do not think it will clear. Mist hangs here always, so thickly now that some of the Saxon kings who send messengers cannot find their way ... . Niniane! Will Camelot too go into the mists?"

She began to fling him back some careless word of jest or reassurance, then stopped and said, "I know not. Dragon Island is defiled, the folk dying or dead, the sacred herd prey to the Saxon hunters. Northmen raid the coast. Will they one day sack Camelot as the Goths overthrew Rome?"

"If I had known in time," Gwydion said with smothered violence, striking one fist against the other, "if the Saxons had brought word to Arthur, he could have sent me-or some other-to protect that holy ground where he was made King Stag and made the sacred marriage with the land! Now the shrine of the Goddess has been overthrown, since he did not die to protect it, his kingship is forfeit."

Niniane heard what he did not say: And mine. She said, "You knew not that it was endangered."

"And for that too I blame Arthur," Gwydion said. "That the Saxons could think of doing this without consulting him-does it not say to you how little they think now of his High Kingship? And why do they think so little of him? I will tell you, Niniane-they think little of any king who is cuckold, who cannot rule his women-"