but I must not be such a coward. Galahad said bluntly, And are you a sorceress, then, lady? Well, said Morgaine, with that cat-claw smile again, no doubt your mother had reason to think me so. She went back into the hall where the servants were clearing the tables and said roughly, Give me some wine. I was mad, Morgaine.
The greying waters, in late-evening sunlight, lay empty before her. He knows I love Gwenhwyfar, but this not even he could forgive, and Gwenhwyfar-who knows if she, even she, would not hate and despise me- His voice choked into silence. And no more pretense of friendship between us. And round its neck was a fragment of leather, and on that a scrap of red cloth-it was something like to the bag in which she had borne her gear when she rode from Caerleon.
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