Old enough, Viviane thought, to be trained as a priestess. She looked down and realized she was still wearing her travel-stained clothing. "Morgaine, will you have the serving-women bring me some water for washing, and send someone to help me robe myself properly to appear before the King and Queen?"

"Water I have sent for; it is there, in the cauldron by the fire," Morgaine said, and then hesitated and added shyly, "I would be honored to attend on you myself, Lady."

"If you wish." Viviane let Morgaine help her remove her outer garments and wash off the dust of travel. Her saddlebags had been sent up too, and she put on a green gown; Morgaine touched the cloth with admiring fingers.

"This is a fine green dye. Our women can make no green as fine as this. Tell me, what do you use to make it?"

"Woad, no more."

"I thought that made only blue dyes."

"No. This is prepared differently, boiled and fixed-I will talk of dyes with you later, if you are interested in herb lore," Viviane said. "Now we have other matters on our mind. Tell me, is your brother given to escapades like this?"

"Not really. He is strong and hardy, but he's usually biddable enough," Morgaine said. "Once someone taunted him about riding so small a pony, and he said that he was to be a warrior and a soldier's first duty is to obey orders, and that his father had forbidden him to ride a horse beyond his strength. So I can't imagine how he came to ride Thunder. But still, he wouldn't have been hurt unless ... "

Viviane nodded. "I would like to know who loosed that mare, and why."

Morgaine's eyes widened as she took in the implications of this. Watching her, Viviane said, "Think. Has he had any other narrow escapes from death, Morgaine?"

Morgaine said, hesitating, "He had the summer fever-but then, all the children had that last year. Uther said he should not have been allowed to play with the shepherd's boys. He caught the fever from them, I think -four of them died. But there was the time when he was poisoned-"

"Poisoned?"

"Isotta-and I would trust her with my life, Lady-swears that she put only wholesome herbs into his soup. Yet he was as sick as if a death-cup mushroom had found its way into his porridge. And yet how could that be? She knows wholesome ones from the poisonous, and she is not yet old and her eyesight is good." Again Morgaine's eyes widened. "Lady Viviane, do you think there are people plotting against my brother's life?"

Viviane drew the girl down to her side. "I came here because I had a warning of this. I have not yet inquired whence the danger comes, I had no time. Do you have the Sight still, Morgaine? When last I spoke with you, you said-"

The girl colored and looked down at her shoes. "You bade me not speak of it. And Igraine says I should turn my thoughts to real things and not daydreams, and so I have tried ... ."

"Igraine is right thus far: that you should not speak idly of these things to the once-born," Viviane said. "But to me, you may always speak freely, I promise you. My Sight can show me only such things as are relevant to the safety of the Holy Isle and the continuance of Avalon, but Uther's son is your own mother's son, and by that tie, your Sight will find him and be able to tell who is trying to compass his death. Uther has enemies enough, all the Gods know."

"But I do not know how to use the Sight."

"I will show you, if you wish it," said Viviane.

The girl looked up at her, her face taut with fear. "Uther has forbidden sorceries in his court."

"Uther is not my master," Viviane said slowly, "and no one can rule over another's conscience. Yet-do you think it an offense to God, to try to discover whether someone is plotting against your brother's life, or whether it is only bad luck?"

Morgaine said unsteadily, "No, I don't think it wicked." She stopped and swallowed and finally said, "And I do not think you would lead me into anything that was wrong, Aunt."

A sudden pain clutched at Viviane's heart. What had she done to earn this trust? With all her heart she wished that this small solemn girl was her own daughter, the daughter she owed the Holy Isle and had never been able to bear. Even though she had risked a belated childbearing, of which she had nearly died, she had borne only sons. And here, it seemed, was the successor the Goddess had sent her, a kinswoman with the Sight, and the girl was looking up at her with complete trust. For a moment she could not speak.

Am I prepared to be ruthless with this girl too? Can I train her, never sparing, or will my love make me less harsh than I must be to train a High Priestess?

Can I use her love for me, which I have in no way deserved, to bring her to the feet of the Goddess?

But with the discipline of years, she waited until her voice was clear and perfectly steady. "Be it so, then. Bring me a silver or bronze basin, perfectly clean and scoured with sand, and fill it with fresh rainwater, not water drawn from the well. Be sure that you speak to no man or woman after you have filled the basin."

She waited, composed, seated by her fire, until at last Morgaine returned.

"I had to scrub it myself," she said, but the basin she held out was shining and brilliant, filled to the brim with clear water. "Now, unbind your hair, Morgaine."

The girl looked at her curiously, but Viviane said, low and stern, "No questions."

Morgaine pulled out the bone hairpin, and her long locks, dark and coarse and perfectly straight, came tumbling down around her shoulders. "Now, if you are wearing any jewelry, take it off, and set it over there, so that it will not be near the basin."

Morgaine tugged off two little gilt rings she had on her finger, and | unpinned the brooch from her overdress. Without the pin holding it, the overdress fell around her shoulders, and without comment, Viviane helped her pull it off, so that she stood in her undergown alone. Then Viviane opened a little bag she wore about her neck and took out a small quantity of crushed herbs, which wafted a sweetish-musty scent through the chamber. She sifted only a few grains into the basin of water before saying in a low, neutral voice, "Look into the water, Morgaine. Make your mind perfectly still, and tell me what you see."

Morgaine came and knelt before the basin of water, looking intently into its clear surface. The room was very silent, so still that Viviane could I hear the small chirping of some insect outside. Then Morgaine said, in a wandering, unfocused voice, "I see a boat. It is draped with black and there I are four women in it ... four queens, for they wear crowns ... and one J of them is you ... or is it me?"

"It is the barge of Avalon," Viviane said, low. "I know what you see."

She passed her hand lightly over the water and saw the ripples follow her hand. "Look again, Morgaine. Tell me what you see."

This time the silence was longer. Finally the girl said, in that same strange tone, "I see deer-a great herd of deer, and a man among them with his body painted-they put the antlers on him-oh, he is down, they will kill him-" Her voice trembled and again Viviane passed her hand above the surface of the water, and the ripples passed over the surface. "Enough," she commanded. "Now see your brother." Silence, again, a silence that stretched and dragged; Viviane felt her body cramped with the tension of stillness but she did not move, with the long discipline of her training. At last Morgaine murmured, "How still he lies ... but he is breathing, soon he will wake. I see my mother ... no, it is not Mother, it is my aunt Morgause, and all of her children are with her ... there are four of them ... how strange, they are all wearing crowns ... and there is another, he is holding a dagger ... why is he so young? Is he her son? Oh, he will kill him, he will kill him-ah, no!" Her voice rose to a shriek. Viviane touched her shoulder. "Enough," she said. "Wake, Morgaine."