Any priestess who must follow in her steps would feel herself less in comparison. His face was fuzzy with soft golden down too fine to be shaven. So the next morning Gwenhwyfar set forth, with her escort of six knights, Ectorius, the veteran Lucan, her waiting-woman, and a nine-year-old page boy. Gwenhwyfar asked, Have you no mind to feasting, sister? Morgaine turned.
ays in the mists? Morgaine remembered suddenly the skeleton of a horse lying beneath the fairy trees . I saw her always in your face, but you turned away from me, and when the Goddess rejected me, I sought another God. He sat on a bench, leaning back and listening to the music, his hands tucked behind his head, his long legs stretched out to the fire. As for Gwenhwyfar, she had other things to think of.
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