y she seemed tall and imposing-the old priestess-trick, thought Morgause, but Gwydion had never seen it before. Can I make this spell without bringing myself, too, to ruin? YOU WERE not at the Queen's feast, murmured the Merlin, looking into Nimue's eyes, and I had made a new song for you. Such things should not even be whispered in this place! It is better that we should whisper them than that they should be whispered all the length and breadth of the land, Gwydion said. So, either way, there was nothing to fear: at worst she would meet no one and spend a lonely night among the trees.
Arthur mourned her sincerely, and built for her a great tomb and a cairn, swearing that one day he and Gwenhwyfar should lie there at her side. This was not Viviane, this broken dead thing, the hand like a shrunken claw still clutching the sickle dagger of Avalon. It could only grieve him to know the rest. , past the room where Avalloch slept with Maline and the younger children, the room where young Conn
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