“My lord, it’s poor lodging for such as yourself, but the best chambers are bespoken, as my lady would tell you, and if this will serve –”

“Of course it will serve. I’m grateful for your lady’s kindness. May I know her name?”

“She’s the Lady Luned, who was the wife of Gerin. Since his death she lives much retired, keeping this castle here for the queen her mistress, but before that she was at court.”

“This must be a lonely place, after what one hears of Camelot.”

“Oh, not the High King’s court,” said the man. “King Urbgen’s, of Rheged. My lady waited on the queen there, Queen Morgan, that was Urbgen’s wife and is King Arthur’s sister.”

This went some way to explaining the surprising amount of service that this small and isolated place seemed to offer, even in the absence of its owner. The Lady Luned still kept her state.

“And your lady still receives guests,” said Alexander. “The road looked well travelled to me. Or are the tracks worn by strays like myself who cannot get to the monastery?”

The man laughed. “There are plenty of those, my lord. The river sends a deal of company our way. Only for a night, as a rule; the flood goes down as sharp as it rises. You needn’t fear to be held back for long.”

“But tonight there are guests expected for whom your lady goes to the gate herself? May one know who they are?”

“Why, Queen Morgan herself,” said the old man. “She’s on her way from the north to Castell Aur in Wales. It seems she petitioned the High King to let her go there to her own place. She’ll come escorted – under guard, that is – but he lets her have her own people about her, so this will be like her own court again.” A smile and a sigh. “Ah, well, poor lady. It’s a busy time, but a lively one for the valley folk. She’ll maybe rest here a few weeks, if the weather’s good, and the company she’s brought pleases her. She should be here soon. You’d see the place was in a rush and my lady Luned herself much occupied … But you’re welcome, she always sees to that. And now, my lord – for ‘my lord’ it is, by your ways, young sir? – have you all you want? I’ll send a boy to you, and I’ll go myself and see what the kitchens have got ready to send you. You’ll find the privy straight across the passageway.”

He bowed his way out. Alexander threw his saddle-bag down on the chest and pulled a clean shirt out of it. The chance traveller, understandably enough, could not expect to be bidden to the royal table, or even to catch sight of the royal guest, but when the promised boy arrived with a bowl of hot water and a fresh towel he made a careful toilet, wondering as he did so what sort of figure he would cut in front of a queen. For this was not only the former Queen of Rheged, and Arthur’s own sister, but also from all accounts a notable witch, whom men feared, and called Queen Morgan the sorceress, Morgan le Fay.