"Oh, rare," Igraine said sarcastically. "Now my Goddess demands of me that I shall play the harlot, and the Merlin of Britain and the Lady of the Lake will act as panders for me!"

Viviane's eyes blazed; she stepped one step forward, and for a moment Igraine believed the priestess would strike her in the face. "How do you dare!" Viviane said, and though her voice was soft, it seemed to raise echoes through the entire room, so that Morgaine, half asleep beneath Igraine's woolen plaid, sat up and cried out in sudden fright.

"Now you have wakened my babe-" Igraine said, and sat down on the edge of the bed, hushing the child. Gradually the angry color receded from Viviane's face. She sat down beside Igraine and said, "You have not understood me, Grainne. Do you think Gorlois immortal? I tell you, child, I have sought to read in the stars the destinies of those who are vital to Britain's wholeness in the years to come, and I tell you, the name of Gorlois is not written there."

Igraine felt her knees weaken and her whole body loosen at the joints. "Will Uther kill him?"

"I swear to you: Uther will have no part in his death, and when Gorlois dies, Uther will be far away. But think, child. Tintagel is a great castle; do you believe, when Gorlois can hold it no longer, that Uther Pendragon would be slow to say, Take the castle, and the woman who holds it, to one of his war dukes? Better Uther than one of his men."

Morgaine. What will become of my child; of Morgause, my little sister? Truly, the woman who belongs to any man must pray that he will live to protect her.

"Can I not return to the Holy Isle, and live out my life in Avalon as priestess?"

"That is not your destiny, little one," Viviane said. Her voice was tender again. "You cannot hide from your fate. It is given to you to play a part in the salvation of this land, but the road to Avalon is closed to you forever. Will you walk the road to your destiny, or must the Gods drag you to it unwilling?"

She did not wait for Igraine's answer. "It will not be long. Ambrosius Aurelianus is dying; for many years he has led the Britons, and now his dukes will meet to choose a High King. And there is none but Uther whom they can all trust. So Uther must be duke of war and High King, both. And he will need a son."

Igraine felt as if the walls of a trap were closing around her. "If you make so much of this, why do you not do this thing yourself? If there is so much power to be gained as the wife of Britain's war duke and High King, why do you not seek to attract Uther with your charms, and bear this ordained king yourself?"

To her surprise, Viviane hesitated for a long time before saying, "Do you think I had not thought of that? But you have forgotten how old I am, Igraine. I am older than Uther, and he is not young as warriors go. I was twenty-six when Morgause was born. I am nine-and-thirty, Igraine, and I am past childbearing."

In the bronze mirror, somehow still in her hand, Igraine saw her sister's reflection, distorted, misshapen, flowing like water, the image suddenly clearing then clouding and vanishing. Igraine said, "You think so? But I tell you that you will bear another child."

"I hope not," Viviane said. "I am older than our mother was when she died in bearing Morgause, and I could not now hope to escape that fate. This is the last year I shall take part in the rites at Beltane; after this I shall hand on my office to some woman younger than I, and become as the Ancient One, the wise-woman. I had hoped that one day I would hand on the place of the Goddess to Morgause-"

"Then why did you not keep her in Avalon and train her to be priestess after you?"

Viviane looked very sad. "She is not fit. She sees, under the mantle of the Goddess, only power, not the unending sacrifice and suffering. And so that path is not for her."

"It does not seem to me that you have suffered," Igraine said.

"You know nothing about it. You did not choose to walk that path either. I, who have given my life to it, say still it would be simpler to live the life of a peasant woman, beast of burden and brood mare in season. You see me robed and crowned as the Goddess, triumphant beside her cauldron; you do not see the darkness of the cave or the depths of the great sea ... . You are not called to it, dear child, and you should thank the Goddess that your destiny is laid elsewhere."

Igraine said silently, Do you think I know nothing of suffering and enduring in silence, after these four years? but she did not say the words aloud. Viviane had bent over Morgaine, her face tender, stroking the little girl's silky-dark hair.

"Ah, Igraine, you cannot know how I envy you-all my life I have so longed for a daughter. Morgause was like my own to me, the Goddess knows, but always as alien to me as if she had been born of a stranger, not my own mother.... I longed for a daughter into whose hands I could resign my office." She sighed. "But I bore only one girl-child, who died, and my sons are gone from me." She shuddered. "Well, this is my destiny, which I shall try to obey as you do yours. I ask nothing of you but this, Igraine, and the rest I leave to her who is mistress of us all. When Gorlois comes home again, he will go to Londinium for the choosing of a High King. Somehow you must contrive to go there with him."

Igraine burst out laughing. "Only this you ask me, and this is harder than all the rest! Do you truly think that Gorlois would burden his men with escorting a young wife to Londinium? I would like to go there, indeed, but Gorlois will take me thither when figs and oranges from the south grow in the garden of Tintagel!"

"Nevertheless, somehow you must contrive to go, and you must look upon Uther Pendragon."

Igraine laughed again. "And I suppose you will give me a charm so that he will fall so deep in love with me that he cannot resist it?"

Viviane stroked her curling red hair. "You are young, Igraine, and I do not think you have any idea how beautiful you are. I do not think Uther will have need of any charms."

Igraine felt her body contract in a curious frightened spasm. "Perhaps I had better have the charm so that I will not shrink from him!"

Viviane sighed. She touched the moonstone about Igraine's neck. She said, "This was not Gorlois's gift to you-"

"No; I had it from you at my wedding, you remember? You said it was my mother's."

"Give it to me." Viviane reached under the curling hair at Igraine's neck and unfastened the chain. "When this stone comes back to you, Igraine, remember what I said, and do as the Goddess prompts you to do."

Igraine looked at the stone in the hands of the priestess. She sighed, but she did not protest. I have promised her nothing, she told herself fiercely, nothing.

"Will you go to Londinium for the choosing of this High King, Viviane?"

The priestess shook her head. "I go to the land of another king, who does not yet know that he must fight at the side of Uther. Ban of Armorica, in Less Britain, is being made High King of his land, and in token, his Druids have told him that he must make the Great Rite. I am sent to officiate in the Sacred Marriage."

"I thought Brittany was a Christian land."

"Oh, it is so," Viviane said indifferently, "and his priests will ring their bells, and anoint him with their holy oils, and tell him that his God has made the sacrifice for him. But the people will not accept a king who is not himself vowed to the Great Sacrifice."

Igraine drew a deep breath. "I know so little-"

"In the old days, Igraine," Viviane said, "the High King was bound with his life to the fortunes of the land, and pledged, as every Merlin of Britain is pledged, that if the land comes upon disaster or perilous times, he will die that the land may live. And should he refuse this sacrifice, the land would perish. I-I should not speak of this, it is a Mystery, but in your own way, Igraine, you too are offering your life for the healing of this land. No woman knows, when she lies down to childbirth, whether her life will not be demanded of her at the hands of the Goddess. I too have lain bound and helpless, with the knife at my throat, knowing that if death took me, my blood would redeem the land ... ." Her voice trembled into silence; Igraine, too, was silent, in awe.