So, in these moments before the race, now that she had gone over every bit of the harness and chariot five times over, she was standing between her two charges, as she had seen Braith do, breathing in their breath and letting them breathe in hers, scratching gently along their jaw lines, whispering nonsense to them. They were old hands at this game, of course, and were far less nervous than she was. They were properly warmed up, and she could sense the readiness of their muscles under her hands when she slid her palms down along their chests. They eyed the other teams nearest them, as if they were measuring their opponents, and then turned their attention back to her.

The starter was an old, scarred fighter from one of the guest contingents; he stopped chatting to a group on the sidelines and stepped up to the starting line. "Drivers!" he barked. "Take your places!"

With a final pat and a whispered word, Gwen left her horses and hopped up into her chariot, taking up the reins. The leather reins felt alive in her hands, as if the horses were speaking to her along them. She saw their haunches bunch as they prepared to leap forward on her command. "Get ready!" the old man shouted, and she flexed her knees, and braced herself for the start.

"Go!"

The horses didn't wait for the reins to slap their backs. They were off as soon as they felt her lift them-or maybe they had responded to the starting shout. No matter-they were off. The chariot lurched forward, Gwen bounced a little against the curved back of her vehicle and habit took over as she regained her balance and crouched down even with the rumps of her horses.

She glanced quickly to either side and saw that she was dead even with the chariots on either side of her. Farther than that, she could not see, and she turned her attention back to the course. Beneath her feet, her chariot bounced and rattled; in front of her, the firm haunches of her horses rose and fell, their heads bobbing as they ran, their hooves flashing within a foot of her head. All around her was the thunder of hooves on the hard-packed earth, and the turf flew past in a blur just beyond her feet. Clods thrown off by the horses' hooves pelted the bottom of the chariot.

And for a single moment, there was nothing but sheer terror.

Then, as always, everything everything settled into place. She didn't really have the words to describe it. Calm descended, and she felt as if the reins, the chariot, even the horses were part of her. That she was wheel-to-wheel with the other chariots didn't matter. She settled into place. She didn't really have the words to describe it. Calm descended, and she felt as if the reins, the chariot, even the horses were part of her. That she was wheel-to-wheel with the other chariots didn't matter. She knew knew that things were going to happen an instant before they actually did, just enough time to avoid trouble. And she didn't have to think about it, her body reacted before her mind actually registered what was about to happen- that things were going to happen an instant before they actually did, just enough time to avoid trouble. And she didn't have to think about it, her body reacted before her mind actually registered what was about to happen- Suddenly she knew that, as they wheeled for the turn, the team on her right was going to veer toward her a little too far and that the only two ways to avoid a collision were to pull back a little or try and get her team to shoot ahead.

And she knew that, as game as the team was, their strength was in endurance, not bursts of speed. They were too old for that sort of burst of speed. So she held them back. They fought her a moment, then yielded and dropped behind the other chariot.

The other team blundered into the s.p.a.ce where her horses would would have been; the driver shot her a look of alarm that blurred into relief, and then they had both made the turn and were on the return leg. have been; the driver shot her a look of alarm that blurred into relief, and then they had both made the turn and were on the return leg.

Through the reins, her hands told the team fast but steady. fast but steady. Through the reins, the team told her they would give what she asked for. She glanced to either side; the team that had almost collided with hers was ahead by more than a full length, but she recognized them with some satisfaction, for the driver was older than she by several years, and the team younger than hers, about two years into their prime. She was running second; in third, a length behind her, was another team driven by a boy with more experience and younger horses. His horses were laboring; hers were good for much more than just the run to the finish. If this had been a battlefield and not a race, he would be no good after this run. Through the reins, the team told her they would give what she asked for. She glanced to either side; the team that had almost collided with hers was ahead by more than a full length, but she recognized them with some satisfaction, for the driver was older than she by several years, and the team younger than hers, about two years into their prime. She was running second; in third, a length behind her, was another team driven by a boy with more experience and younger horses. His horses were laboring; hers were good for much more than just the run to the finish. If this had been a battlefield and not a race, he would be no good after this run.

She could hear the cheers; so could her horses. Their ears p.r.i.c.ked forward. Steady, Steady, her hands told them. her hands told them. We are, We are, they told her back. They stretched out their necks, though, determined to make the leader win his prize they told her back. They stretched out their necks, though, determined to make the leader win his prize And then they were across, and she was pulling them up, as the spectators swarmed the winner. But as she jumped out of the chariot and went to the horses' heads to take their halters and begin walking them to cool them, a smaller group was heading for her in a more leisurely fashion. Braith, Braith's lord, her father, and three of the warriors that were her teachers.

"I told you not to bet against her," Braith was admonishing her lord, as that worthy handed over to the king a fine silver bracelet.

"And you said she wouldn't even place, with horses that old, and young as she is," the king crowed. He pulled Gwen into a hard embrace, laughing. "Well done, daughter! Second place, and your team still ready for another charge! First place isn't everything."

"Not when you bring your team to the finish line heaving and winded, King," said Braith, a broad grin on her brown face. "Someone had better teach that boy in third that he's training for battles, not for sprints."

Gwen said nothing, but she felt as if she were glowing. She'd done it; she'd made Braith and and her father proud. her father proud.

"What are the prizes, my lord King?" someone called from the crowd around the winner.

"For first place, a silver brooch!" the king called back. "For third, a fine, fat duck and a flagon of wine from the king's table! And for second-" He looked down at Gwen, his eyes twinkling. "-For second, a tun of ale and the boar meant for the king's table!"

"Then let my prize be served among all the drivers!" she called out, her high voice ringing clearly out before the cheering could start again. "For surely all have earned a share!"

Any grumbling that might have started among the others that the king's daughter had surely had some secret aid was erased in that moment, as the cheering started all over again.

Gwen looked up again at her father, and saw him mouth the words "well done" before he turned back to his guests to escort them to dinner.

But better even than the accolade from her father was the one from Braith, who winked, and mouthed the same.

[image]

The tables and benches had been set up outside, around the three hearths where all the cooking had been done. There were so many guests at a Midsummer gathering that the Great Hall would have been stifling hot, and you'd scarcely be able to cram them all in there anyway. There was great rejoicing at the table set aside for the squires who had driven in the race as they squabbled good-naturedly over the best parts of the boar, stuffing themselves with both hands, their faces shiny with the rich fat. Gwen, however, was just as happy back at her place behind the Merlin, serving him. For one thing, she already had the acclaim of the two who mattered to her; for another, her gesture-and her insistence on returning to duty-had favorably impressed her father's guests, the Merlin included. The old man gazed on her for a very long moment as she took her place, and it wasn't the sort of look he gave Gynath, but the sort of measuring he was bestowing on her father's chiefs. It was a look that said I underestimated you, and you are worth keeping an eye on. I underestimated you, and you are worth keeping an eye on.

And anyway, although she liked a slice of good boar as much as the next person, she had overheard her mother telling the chief cook to set aside a quarter of a goose and keep it warm for "our brave Gwen." So she wasn't losing by her generosity.

Once the feast was well underway, however, the Merlin was his usual abstemious self.

But this time he paid special attention to Gwenhwyfach. She was up to her usual tricks, utterly unaware that she was being studied. First me, then Gynath, now Little Gwen . . . First me, then Gynath, now Little Gwen . . . She wondered what he was thinking. She wondered what he was thinking.

Then it dawned on her; the High King was about to be the father of an heir. Such a boy was going to need a wife, and as soon as possible. An alliance with her father would give Arthur a near neighbor to the troublesome Orkney crew. And hadn't her father suggested it himself?

Cataruna had gone to the Ladies, and once she came back, the king would not want to give up one with both the Gift and the training. Gynath was, perhaps, a little too old-oh, you could betroth babies in the cradle, but usually they were closer in age than this, and when the boy was old enough to sire a child, Gynath would be twice his age. Besides, if Eleri did not, after all, have a boy, then the king would want to pick a good husband for Gynath, in order to have a male to pa.s.s the crown to.

Gwen herself? Possible, but probably still too old. And as long as she was a warrior, she would not only be valuable to her father for those skills but would be much in the company of the men-and without the pressure of being first- or second-born, she might make a match of her own. Or not. Braith never had.

But Little Gwen, now . . . that was different. She was young enough to be reasonably close in age to the High King's son, she was pretty and would likely grow to be even prettier, and she had immense charm. She'd make a good candidate for such an alliance. The king himself had said that there was no telling what she would grow into, so out of his own mouth the Merlin had it that she was not yet seen as a valuable a.s.set. And she was fourth-born. Her father would have every reason to welcome such a betrothal.

So now the Merlin might well be watching her to see if she was trainable. If she was was betrothed to the High King's heir, they'd want her sent to them. They'd want to be sure she was raised betrothed to the High King's heir, they'd want her sent to them. They'd want to be sure she was raised their their way, with schooling in what way, with schooling in what they they thought needful. thought needful.

And wouldn't that be interesting. Gwen schooled her more malicious thoughts. With the Merlin there, Little Gwen wouldn't be able to use her glamorie, if indeed she had one, to charm people into doing what she wanted. She'd actually have to learn how to behave. Probably how to work, too. The life of a queen was not all fine clothes and goose every day. The queen had charge over the household, and in the king's absence, could be expected even to command the warriors. Gwen schooled her more malicious thoughts. With the Merlin there, Little Gwen wouldn't be able to use her glamorie, if indeed she had one, to charm people into doing what she wanted. She'd actually have to learn how to behave. Probably how to work, too. The life of a queen was not all fine clothes and goose every day. The queen had charge over the household, and in the king's absence, could be expected even to command the warriors.

It would probably be the best thing that could happen to her.

And Gynath and I would have the bed all to ourselves, she couldn't help but think, wistfully. And then she sighed. The way that Little Gwen was carrying on, the Merlin would probably think she was far too much trouble, even for such a good alliance as with her father. Especially since her father was already clearly loyal. she couldn't help but think, wistfully. And then she sighed. The way that Little Gwen was carrying on, the Merlin would probably think she was far too much trouble, even for such a good alliance as with her father. Especially since her father was already clearly loyal.

She lifted the hair from the back of her neck for a moment to let a breeze cool it. She was very glad they weren't stuck in the Great Hall. It was much more pleasant, eating outside, but the king, though he would have scoffed at such a notion, followed the Roman custom of having the family and retainers dining in the Great Hall most times. Sometimes Gwen wondered why, especially on an afternoon like this. It was easier to clean up after everyone was done eating, the sound of talking didn't get bounced about by hard stone walls so that you had to concentrate even to hear a near neighbor, and it didn't smell. As fastidious as Queen Eleri was, there was only so much you could do in a room where cats and dogs did as they willed, rats and mice came out at night, and people dropped food and spilled drink on the floor.

Maybe it was only because in the Great Hall the smoke rose straight up to the roof, and there was no "bad side" for the tables, where wind sent the smoke into your eyes. The people on that side of the hearth fires were looking uncomfortable.

Gwen checked on her charge again. The Merlin was still watching Little Gwen. Oh, it would be so good if he picked her, Oh, it would be so good if he picked her, Gwen thought fervently. Gwen thought fervently.

Finally, when the last of the food was gone, and the men had settled down to serious drinking and talking, the Merlin's manservant came and tapped Gwen on the shoulder and indicated with a jerk of his thumb that she should go eat.

She went straight to the head cook who had, indeed, saved her a good meal and, wonder of wonders, had carefully put the goose in a clay pot and left it basting in its own juice by the fire so that it didn't congeal in its own fat. Gwen enjoyed every bite, but she felt the need to hurry back, lest she be thought laggard.

By now, the sun had almost set, and the embers of the fire matched the color of the western sky. She took the jar of beer from the Merlin's manservant and quietly replaced him without a fuss. The conversation was about children-the children of the chiefs as well as of the king-betrothals that might be made, daughters gone to the Ladies, second or third sons that might be sent for harder training away from the family. No man would send his heir away of course, but it was thought that other boys would benefit from being away from the shadow of the eldest and the protection of the family. And, of course, they they might catch the eye of a daughter, and there would be an alliance-marriage out of it. might catch the eye of a daughter, and there would be an alliance-marriage out of it.

The Merlin cleared his throat. "I have some interest in your youngest," he said, with great care. "I would like to speak with her at some length over the next day or two."

"Little Gwen?" The King's voice betrayed a touch of confusion. "Why Little Gwen? The conversation of such a child is not like to be entertaining."

"I believe I may have detected another sort of Blessing on her than the one the Ladies look for," the Merlin replied. "Such a thing is elusive, as difficult to follow as a minnow among the reeds, but it is the sort of thing that is useful to the Druids. It may be that as the Ladies have called your Cataruna, the Druids, although we do not usually call females, might be able to train your youngest. We have on occasion great need for maidens. Pure maidens, with special kinds of power to them . . ."

"Aha!" Comprehension dawned on the king. "Virgin foot-holders, as the good G.o.ddess Arianrhod was to Math ap Mathonwy, Lleu's liege lord. Has our High King the need of such, think you?"

"He might. Or I might. If the magic calls for it. There are other Druidic callings for pure maidens, though these rites be more secret than those of the Ladies." The Merlin smiled. "I can a.s.sure you that if she is indeed endowed with such a Blessing, she and you will be greatly honored for it, protected and guarded-rather better than Arianrhod was. And if she is not, well no harm will come of a little talk with an old man. Hmm? Besides, your trusted Gwenhwyfar will be there." He chuckled deeply. "I a.s.sure you, my lord King, I am not such that finds great interest in little girls except as they may grow to power or further the needs of the High King."

"Oh, I had no suspicion of that." The king's ears had turned a little red. "And who am I to deny the Druids what they may need, especially as it may be in the interest of the High King? I shall tell the nursemaid that you are to have custody of the little wench for as long as you require. Or-" he amended with a chuckle "-for as long as you can stand her prattle."

When the manservant again took Gwen's place and she picked her way through the snoring bodies bedded down among the rushes in the Great Hall to the bedchamber, she discovered that once again Little Gwen was wide awake.

She heard the child sit straight up in bed as she lifted the door-curtain. As warm as it was, the bed curtains had been taken down altogether and put away until winter. "Gynath is asleep and said she would beat me with a slipper if I woke her," Little Gwen hissed urgently. "What did they say around the fire? What did the Merlin say? Did he talk about magic?"

"Actually, he talked about you." Gwen figured that that would shut the little nuisance up, and it did. "He wants to talk to you. He thinks you might have some kind of magic that the Druids can use, and if they can, when you're old enough, they'll want you to come to them like Cataruna went to the Ladies." would shut the little nuisance up, and it did. "He wants to talk to you. He thinks you might have some kind of magic that the Druids can use, and if they can, when you're old enough, they'll want you to come to them like Cataruna went to the Ladies."

"I knew knew it!" Little Gwen squeaked with excitement and gloating. it!" Little Gwen squeaked with excitement and gloating.

Gynath rolled over and swatted at her, then rolled back without saying a word. Little Gwen squeaked again, this time with indignation.

"Well, magic or no magic, you had better be on your best behavior, because I am to be there too," Gwen whispered crossly, "You may be sure that Father will ask me about this, and if you act badly, I will tell him."

"I won't-!" Little Gwen began indignantly. Gwen cut her off.

"And if you act like a pigkeeper's brat, or try to lord it over me, the Merlin will take it ill. He holds good manners high, does the Merlin. He treats me like a full warrior, so you had best do the same." Gwen pulled off her sandals and tunic and crawled into the bed. "And you had better let me get some sleep, too, or I'll let the Merlin know that you you are the reason his squire is clumsy in the morning." are the reason his squire is clumsy in the morning."

That threat was enough to still the questions-and the gloating-in the child's throat. She laid herself back down, and Gwen curled herself into a ball.

Could Little Gwen have a magic that would be useful to someone besides herself? That glamorie, for instance? Well it might be useful enough if she tamed it and used it wisely. She could lead other children around easily enough; the High King might find it useful if a maid in his court could do the same with adult men. Little Gwen have a magic that would be useful to someone besides herself? That glamorie, for instance? Well it might be useful enough if she tamed it and used it wisely. She could lead other children around easily enough; the High King might find it useful if a maid in his court could do the same with adult men.

If the little ferret could be tamed . . .

Thinking that, Gwen fell asleep.

She was up before dawn again and was attending to the Merlin's wants before the old man was even awake. Now well acquainted with his habits, she brought fruit and bread and clear spring water instead of the small beer and meat that the king's other guests would expect. She didn't actually expect Little Gwen to turn up until the sun was high, but to her shock, as soon as the Merlin had broken his fast, she and Bronwyn turned up to wait on the Merlin's pleasure. Gwen's eyes nearly jumped out of her head with shock. Little Gwen had never been up this early on her own, ever!

After Bronwyn had been dismissed, the Merlin also sent away his manservant and sat Little Gwen down on a stool at his feet. Then he looked at Gwen.

And once again, she found herself held prisoner by his eyes. It happened even faster this time, and when the Merlin told her that she would hear and see nothing nothing that went on, she nodded vaguely, though her mind battered itself against the fetters he placed around it like a wild thing in a trap. that went on, she nodded vaguely, though her mind battered itself against the fetters he placed around it like a wild thing in a trap.

Then he turned to Little Gwen. And try as she might, Gwen could only make out sc.r.a.ps of what pa.s.sed between them.

Some things did manage to penetrate the fog that the Merlin had put around Gwen's thoughts. The Merlin asked about the coming heir, and Little Gwen replied with such venom, such hatred, that even Gwen was a bit shocked. And then- Then the Merlin turned back to her and looked deeply into her eyes. "You fight me, girl," he said with a little admiration and some regret. "But this is not for the honest ears of one such as you. Sleep. And remember nothing."

And that was all she knew- [image]

She came to herself with a start. I must have been more tired than I thought! I must have been more tired than I thought! With a touch of alarm, she looked covertly about the tent, but the Merlin did not seem to have noticed her lapse. He was giving Little Gwen a small carved box and smiling with satisfaction. "So, use that as I told you, and your future will be clear," he said. With a touch of alarm, she looked covertly about the tent, but the Merlin did not seem to have noticed her lapse. He was giving Little Gwen a small carved box and smiling with satisfaction. "So, use that as I told you, and your future will be clear," he said.

"But the Druids will call for me?" Little Gwen pleaded, with something like urgency in her tone.

"I pledge you that someone someone will. You have Power, you will have more, and teachers seek such students out." He pa.s.sed a hand over his eyes, as if he were suddenly weary, then looked up at Gwen. "Escort your sister back to her nurse, then tell your father that this child is indeed Blessed with Power but that the time is not right for her to leave her family." will. You have Power, you will have more, and teachers seek such students out." He pa.s.sed a hand over his eyes, as if he were suddenly weary, then looked up at Gwen. "Escort your sister back to her nurse, then tell your father that this child is indeed Blessed with Power but that the time is not right for her to leave her family."

"Aye, my lord," Gwen replied, feeling disappointed that Little Gwen was not going to be taken off far, far away-at least not for some time. Little Gwen looked even more disappointed, but she allowed herself to be led off, clutching her little box.

"What is that?" Gwen asked, as soon as they had left the tent.

"Something secret," her sister said, a sly look coming over her.

"I'm not to tell."

Gwen shrugged. "Then I won't ask any more." Her sister looked disappointed at that response; half of the value she placed in a secret was that she could torment her older siblings with it.

But she didn't have any time to come up with a new tactic, for Bronwyn was waiting for them at the edge of the encampment and looked with curiosity at the box.

"Tis a secret thing between her and the Merlin," Gwen said shortly. "So let her do what he wishes her to do with it."

Bronwyn nodded and took Little Gwen in charge, while Gwen went off to find her father and fulfill the second half of her duty.

Her father seemed a little disappointed as well but said only, "At least we know she has has a Blessing. But it must not be something the High King needs. Ah, well." He waved Gwen off. "We'll let her age, like mead. Mayhap she'll turn out as sweet with the help of whatever it is the Merlin gave her." a Blessing. But it must not be something the High King needs. Ah, well." He waved Gwen off. "We'll let her age, like mead. Mayhap she'll turn out as sweet with the help of whatever it is the Merlin gave her."

Privately Gwen rather doubted any such miracle could occur, but this was a case when the squire served best by keeping her lips sealed. "Aye, my lord King," she said carefully, bowed, and went back to her duty.

Chapter Nine.

The guests were all gone, the Merlin with them, without his making a display of any kind of magic-much to the bitter disappointment of most of the young squires. This time Gwen had not had the slightest wish to spy on the Midsummer Rites. She spent that evening as usual in attendance on the Merlin, and when he retired to join the Rites, she sat quietly with the other squires, on her best behavior. They were all rewarded by a share of mead each, which warmed her belly and made her sleepy. When the Merlin and the women returned, she was surprised, for she had not thought that much time had pa.s.sed. She was glad when he dismissed her, and she was happy enough to go to bed, even while the young women and men were still leaping the fire, dancing, or making sheep's eyes at each other. Of course, not all of them were confining themselves to that, for it was Midsummer after all, but they were out in the hayfields or the meadows or little bowers under the bushes, and not tumbling and panting in the Great Hall, so she didn't even think of them, but of the soft mattress and how good it would be to get there. were all gone, the Merlin with them, without his making a display of any kind of magic-much to the bitter disappointment of most of the young squires. This time Gwen had not had the slightest wish to spy on the Midsummer Rites. She spent that evening as usual in attendance on the Merlin, and when he retired to join the Rites, she sat quietly with the other squires, on her best behavior. They were all rewarded by a share of mead each, which warmed her belly and made her sleepy. When the Merlin and the women returned, she was surprised, for she had not thought that much time had pa.s.sed. She was glad when he dismissed her, and she was happy enough to go to bed, even while the young women and men were still leaping the fire, dancing, or making sheep's eyes at each other. Of course, not all of them were confining themselves to that, for it was Midsummer after all, but they were out in the hayfields or the meadows or little bowers under the bushes, and not tumbling and panting in the Great Hall, so she didn't even think of them, but of the soft mattress and how good it would be to get there.

The truth of the matter was, that between serving the Merlin and seeing that her horses were tended perfectly, her gear in good order, and the gear of the older warriors attended to, she fell into the bed and slept like a stone every night, and she simply didn't have the will to sneak out for a clandestine look. Besides, her curiosity the last time had resulted in a vision that, while exciting, was also somewhat frightening. She'd spied upon the G.o.ds that night, and she rather hoped that she was below their attention. At least, until she was old enough to start earning some glory in battle.

Little Gwen had finally found something to occupy her besides tormenting her sisters, and for that, Gwen was so profoundly grateful to the Merlin that she would have run twice the number of errands he asked of her. Whatever it was that he had told the child, and given her, kept her captive and quiet in her own thoughts. And meanwhile, now that he was sure of her, the Merlin sent his a.s.signed squire out into the fields and woods to acquire any number of herbs and bits. Mushrooms both poisonous and tasty, baskets of bark, roots, leaves, owl pellets, bones and teeth . . . there seemed no end to the odd things he wanted her to find. It wasn't capricious either; part of the reason he was sending her for these things was that he was graciously sharing his lore of curative things and homely spells with the queen and her women, showing them how he compounded remedies for all manner of injuries, curses, and diseases. The women loved him for this, but of course, this was not the conjuring of dragons or the summoning of demons that the squires hoped to see, so it was all terribly boring to them. In this, Gwen didn't agree; some of the things that the Merlin could cure were downright miraculous.

But at last, everyone was gone, and Gwen was back to duties that seemed light in comparison with the double burden she had carried while the guests were about. Now she knew why the squires had always looked so harried and haggard during festivals and had never had time for games or gamboling. In a time of feasting and leisure, they got none of the latter and only the leftover ends of the former.

It was about a week after the last guest had left that a traveling bard arrived, having spent Midsummer at the festival King Lot of Orkney held. Like all bards, he was as full of news as he was of music, and the women swarmed him to hear his largest burden, that Anna Morgause had been brought to bed of yet another son, her fifth. Four more she had, two older than Arthur-Gwalchmai, Gwalchafed, Gwynfor, and Agrwn. Gwalchmai and Gwalchafed were said to be as alike as she and Little Gwen, and the younger served the elder as a squire. She only hoped Gwalchmai's younger brother had a better temper than her younger sister.

"Thin, small, and sickly looking this one is," the bard said, with a little smirk that made Gwen frown. This man was angling for rewards from Queen Eleri, she thought. But she kept her head down over her task and held her peace. She was not allowed to completely escape the training of a maiden amid all the work of a squire; she still had to mend, if not make, her own clothing.

The king counted on his fingers, and chuckled. "So old Lot made sure of his wife by quickening her before before he took her to Arthur's wedding. Very wise of him." he took her to Arthur's wedding. Very wise of him."

"Well, if a man knows he's like to wear the horns," said one of the men with a leer, "That's the best way of knowing he won't be raising another man's brat."

Ribald laughter spread around the benches. Anna Morgause had a reputation that was none too savory. It was said she had even bedded a Northman once, and it was whispered that she did not confine her couplings to humans. And here, far from the reach of her magic, it was safe enough to gossip about it.

"I've half suspected old Lot of being her pander, a'times," said another with a snort. "And she, his."

Queen Eleri was shaking her head as she cradled her belly with one hand. "Four living sons, and what does she need with a fifth?" she wondered aloud. "Well, what's the poor wee thing's name? No matter what kind of mother he has, I'll ask the Lady's blessing on him that he shall thrive. It is hardly his fault what he was born to. And he is the High King's nephew, as she is the High King's half-sister."

"Medraut, gracious Queen," the bard said with a bow. "She calls him Medraut. Her little sister Morgana is much enamored of him."

"Little and sickly, and with the Orkney lot! He'll need Morgana to look after him," old Bronwyn predicted sadly. "If they don't bully him a-purpose, they'll still worry him like a lot of unwhipped pups with a rag they tug between each other."

"Little and sickly, perhaps Anna Morgause will tend to him as she did not her healthy boys. We will hope." Eleri raised her chin, signaling that the subject was concluded. "Did the Merlin come to visit them, as he did us?"

The bard shook his head and went on to other things. Gwen had felt an odd and uneasy interest in the subject of this unknown boy child, but maybe that was only because her mother had taken on an odd expression when she spoke of him. After more gossip concerning Lot, his wife, and their followers, Eleri asked the bard to give them some music, preferably a war song, for there were rumors the Northerners were moving again. Old Bronwyn made a face of disappointment at this; she took a particular delight in the bad behavior of Anna Morgause, to the point where Gwen found herself wondering what the queen of the Orkneys could ever have done to Bronwyn to make her so sour against her.

Little Gwen had been surprisingly good, although she looked as disappointed as Bronwyn when the queen changed the subject away from the Orkney clan. Gwen was relieved. Perhaps all the attention she had gotten from the Merlin had done her good. She certainly had been on excellent behavior this evening, fetching the queen anything she asked for and not even trying her coy little tricks on the bard. It was rather too bad in a way that Eleri had had changed the subject; the bard was not very good, and Gwen found her interest straying away from the war song that was less changed the subject; the bard was not very good, and Gwen found her interest straying away from the war song that was less song song and more toneless chanting, mostly in praise of a nebulous leader who, she supposed, was intended to resemble her father. That was often the way with these bards; trying to flatter their hosts in hopes of a rich present, rather than earning the rich present by honestly performing to the best of their ability. Sadly, her father didn't seem to see the ploy for what it was; he nodded to the monotonous strumming and looked as if he were going to interject an approving grunt on the chorus, when suddenly Eleri clutched her swollen belly and screamed out in pain. and more toneless chanting, mostly in praise of a nebulous leader who, she supposed, was intended to resemble her father. That was often the way with these bards; trying to flatter their hosts in hopes of a rich present, rather than earning the rich present by honestly performing to the best of their ability. Sadly, her father didn't seem to see the ploy for what it was; he nodded to the monotonous strumming and looked as if he were going to interject an approving grunt on the chorus, when suddenly Eleri clutched her swollen belly and screamed out in pain.

It was not just a "cry"-this was a sound that Gwen had never heard from her mother, and from the look of it, neither had any of the other women, not even Bronwyn, who had been with her through all of the births of her children. The look of startled alarm on Bronwyn's face, made a stab of fear go right through Gwen. Swiftly, Eleri's women surrounded her and half-carried her into the royal chamber, as the king tried to make light of the situation.

"You see, Bard, your song has roused my son, and now he wants to come forth and do battle!" He stripped off a bracelet-only bronze, to the bard's swiftly covered disappointment-and tossed it to the man, looking distractedly at the entrance to the chambers, now covered by the curtain. "Let us drink to him and to the safe delivery of the queen! And let us take our drinking outside, so that we do not disturb the women at their work!"