“But why?”

“So that he might not return. Oh, yes, she would not like one of her following casting his eyes at anyone but herself, but it was more than that. She was afraid he would tell me of those meetings in the east tower. But she was too late. I already knew.”

Silence. Alexander stood like a stone, looking down at his feet, wondering what to do, what to say, what to believe. One did not give a lady the lie. Besides, he owed her much kindness, perhaps even his life. But this, from one who had been Morgan’s own lady-in-waiting? She was going on, still in that calm, expressionless voice which, by its very lack of emphasis, carried some sort of conviction. Something about a faction of young dissidents, men from the outlying Celtic lands, who were dissatisfied with the King’s peace and the strong central government that Arthur had imposed on the small kingdoms of Britain. Now that there were no wars to prosecute, and justice was in the hands, not of the petty kings, but of the council in the Round Hall at Camelot, many high-spirited and hot-headed young outlanders were fretting at the lack of action. The Young Celts they called themselves. Harmless enough when it had started, it now seemed as if the young adventurers were being banded together and manipulated by self-seeking men, against the interests of the High King and the united kingdom he had fought to establish. And Queen Morgan’s court was one of the meeting-places of the rebellious faction.

“You must believe me!” she was saying earnestly.

He was silent, remembering his own eagerness to avenge himself on March of Cornwall, the joy of his first skirmish, the excitement of the fight by the River Severn, and even this morning’s high anticipation of adventure. This much of her tale he could believe.

“And these are the councils that she holds here,” said Luned. “Not often enough to alert the guards who might report to the King, but whenever there is some excuse. Once Julian was pledged to me, he was a danger. So he did not come back.”

There were some things one could not believe. He still said nothing. She regarded him for another moment or two, then asked, gently: “You will still go on this quest?”

“I must. I am pledged. Besides, what you have told me –” He stopped.

“You cannot, or will not, believe? I understand that. I’ll say no more. Only this I beg of you, that if you do find this grail, and you still believe that it is only to be used in the High King’s service, that you do not carry it back here, or to Castell Aur, but that you go first to Camelot and let Arthur himself judge whether or not his sister is to have it.”

“How can I?”

“Without impugning her? Or is it because you know in your heart that he would not let her come near it?”