The girl shook her head like a puppy stretching after sleep. "Did I see anything?" she asked.

Viviane nodded. "Some day you will learn to see and to remember," she said. "For now it is enough."

Now she was armed to confront Uther and Igraine. Lot of Orkney was, as far as she knew, an honorable man, and had taken oath to support Uther. But should Uther die without an heir ... Morgause had borne two sons already and there were likely to be more-Morgaine had seen four, and there was no way in which the little Kingdom of Orkney would support four princes. The brothers, when they grew to manhood, were likely to be at one another's throats. And Morgause ... sighing, Viviane remembered Morgause's vaulting ambition. If Uther died without an heir, then Lot, married to the Queen's own sister, would be a logical choice for the throne. And the succession would be Lot as High King, Lot's sons heirs to the smaller kingdoms ... .

Would Morgause stoop to plot against the life of a child? Viviane did not like to think that of the girl she had nursed at her own breasts. But Morgause and Lot, together, with their ambitions!

Easy enough, perhaps, to bribe a groom or insinuate one of her own men into Uther's court, with orders to lead the child into danger as often as possible. Not so easy, of course, to get past a faithful nurse who was his own mother's faithful waiting-woman, but she could be drugged, or given stronger drink than usual, to make her confused, so that something deadly found its way past her vigilance. And no matter how well a child rode, it would take more strength than any six-year-old had to hold a stallion who scented a mare in season.

All our plans could have come to ruin in a moment ... .

At suppertime she found Uther alone at the high table, while the vassals and serving-men ate their bread and bacon at a lower table in the hall. He rose and saluted her courteously.

"Igraine is still at her son's side, sister-in-law; I begged her to go and sleep, but she said she would sleep after he wakened and knew her."

"I have already spoken with Igraine, Uther."

"Oh, yes, she told me, she said you have given your word that he would live. Was that wise? If he dies after that-"

Uther's face was drawn and worried. He looked no older than when he had married Igraine; his hair was so fair, Viviane thought, that no one could see whether it was greyed or not. He was richly dressed in the Roman fashion, and he was clean-shaven, too, like a Roman. He wore no crown, but around his upper arms he had two torques of pure gold, and a rich gold collar.

"He won't die this time. I have some experience with head wounds. And the injuries to the body haven't penetrated the lungs. He'll be running around in a day or two."

Uther's face relaxed somewhat. "If I ever find out who loosed that mare ... I should beat the boy senseless for riding Thunder!"

"There would be no point in that. He has already paid the price of his rashness, and I am sure it will teach him whatever lesson is needed," Viviane said. "But you should set better guard on your son."

"I cannot guard him night and day." Uther's face was haggard. "I am away so often at the wars, and I cannot keep so big a boy tied to his nurse's apron! And we have come near to losing him before this-"

"Morgaine told me."

"Bad luck, bad luck. The man with only one son walks always at the mercy of any stroke of bad luck," said Uther. "But I am remiss in courtesy, kinswoman. Here, sit beside me, share my dish if you will. I know Igraine longed to send to you, and I gave her leave to send a messenger, but you have come more swiftly than any of us dreamed-is it true, then, that the witches of the Holy Islands can fly?"

Viviane chuckled. "Would that I could! I would not have spoiled two pair of good shoes in the mire! Alas, the folk of Avalon, and the Merlin himself, must walk or ride, even as common folk." She took a piece of the wheaten loaf and helped herself to butter from a small wooden cask. "You who wear the serpents at your wrists should know better than to credit those old fables! But there is a bond of blood between us. Igraine is my mother's daughter, and I know when she has need of me."

Uther set his lips tight. "I have had dreams and sorceries enough, I want no more of them in my life."

This, as it was intended to do, silenced Viviane. She allowed one of the serving-men to help her to salted mutton, and spoke amiably about the fresh boiled herbs, the first of the year. When she had eaten sparingly, she set down her knife and said, "However I came here, Uther, it was by good fortune, and a sign to me that your child is guarded by the Gods, for he is needed."

"I cannot bear much more of such fortune," Uther said, and his voice was taut. "If you are a sorceress indeed, sister-in-law, I would beg you to give Igraine a charm against barrenness. I thought when we were wedded that she would give me many children, since she had already borne a daughter to old Gorlois, but we have only one, and already he is six years old."

It is written in the stars that you shall have no other son. But Viviane forbore to say this to the man before her. Instead she said, "I will speak with Igraine, and be sure whether it is not some sickness in her which keeps her from conceiving."

"Oh, she conceives right enough, but she can carry the child no more than a moon or two, and the one she brought to birth bled to death when his navel string was cut," Uther said grimly. "He was misshapen, so perhaps it was as well, but if you could give her some charm for a healthy child -I do not know whether I believe in such things, but I am ready to grasp at any straw!"

"I have no such charms," Viviane said, honestly pitying him. "I am not the Great Goddess, to give or withhold children from you, and I would not if I could. I cannot meddle with what the fates have decreed. Does not your own priest say as much to you?"

"Oh, aye, Father Columba speaks about submitting myself to the will of God; but the priest has not a kingdom to rule, which will fall into chaos if I die without an heir," Uther said. "I cannot believe that is what God wants!"

"None of us knows what God wants," Viviane said, "not you, nor I, nor even Father Columba. But it seems certain to me, and it heeds neither magic nor sorcery to see it, that you must guard the life of this little one, since he must come to the throne."

Uther's mouth tightened. "God avert that fate," he said. "I should grieve for Igraine's sake if her son died, and even for my own-he is a fine and promising child-but he cannot be heir to the High King of Britain. There is no man in all the length and breadth of this kingdom who does not know that he was begotten while Igraine was still wife to Gorlois, and he came to birth a whole moon sooner than he should have been born, to be my son. True, he was small and puny, and babes are cast forth from the womb before their proper time, but I cannot go around and tell all those in the kingdom who were counting on their fingers, can I? He will be Duke of Cornwall when he is grown, but I cannot hope to make him High King after me. Even if he lives to grow up, which with his luck is unlikely."

"He looks enough like you," Viviane said. "Do you think everyone at court is blind?"

"But what of all those who have never come to court? No, I must get myself an heir on whose birth there can be no stain. Igraine must bear me a son.

"Well, God grant it be so," Viviane said, "but you cannot force your will on God either, nor allow Gwydion's life to be thrown away. Why not: send him to fosterage at Tintagel? That is so remote, and if you put him in charge of your most trusted vassal, sending him there would convince everyone that he was truly Cornwall's son and you have no intention of J making him High King; perhaps then they would not bother to plot against J him."