Morgana strode into the hall of the disused manor house, the one she had made into her base of operations. "Glanmor! The cargo of weapons bound for Camelot will reach the Ford of Rushwick tomorrow," she announced, settling herself in the ornate carved chair at the head of the hall. "Send in our special trackers."

Glanmor shifted uncomfortably. Morgana eyed him sternly. He cleared his throat.

"They're—um—gone."

"Gone?" Morgana's voice had become low and threatening. "What do you mean, gone?"

"Well, not all of them. I mean—"

Morgana reached her hand out. Her eyes flashed gold, and Glanmor clawed at his throat. "Speak clearly or you won't speak at all," she said, and let go. Glanmor leaned over and coughed as his windpipe was released. "Now tell me what you mean."

"The recruits," he gasped. "They've left the manor—at least, most of them."

"Which ones?"

"Almost all the magic-users."

Morgana set her mouth in a hard line. Magic was necessary to her plans—she couldn't defeat a Camelot patrol in secrecy without it. If all the magic-users were gone…

"You said 'almost'. Who's left?"

"The Druid girl—Kara. She was the only one who showed up for the morning meal."

"Bring her."

Glanmor scurried out of the room and Morgana tapped her foot impatiently. There was no need for her to ask why the magic-users had left. Morgana's spies had brought her news weeks ago of Arthur lifting the ban on magic. At first everyone was convinced, as she was, that it was a trap—that Arthur intended to bring the sorcerers out of hiding and then execute them. But as the weeks passed and there was no news of executions—and instead, stories of magic being used in Camelot's military and infirmary began to be whispered about—people seemed to be losing some of their skepticism. It was said that Arthur had actually apologized for the Great Purge and the deaths of many magic-users. A few had moved into the lower town, and it seemed they were being accepted by the citizens of Camelot. The knights were training with sorcerers, including Mordred. One magic user, a woman, had gone on patrol with the knights two days before. They had caught two of Morgana's spies in the forest and had given chase. With the sorceress's help, the knights had managed to defeat Morgana's agents, killing one of them. The other had escaped to report.

Many of Morgana's sorcerers had seemed disturbed by this development—though she wasn't sure whether it was fear or second thoughts. Camelot with magic was something none of them had bargained for. It made them a more dangerous enemy—a more unpredictable one.

And worse, it made them harder to hate.

Most of Morgana's purely military mercenaries she had recruited through promises of wealth, land, greater freedom in their raiding. But the sorcerers she had recruited through their hatred for the Pendragons and their so-called purge. Most of these sorcerers had had their own lives or those of their families threatened by Uther and Arthur's policies. They saw siding with Morgana as siding with magic against those who hated it and them. The world could easily be divided into Morgana and magic against Camelot and hatred.

But now it couldn't. Magic and magical people were being embraced in Camelot. Arthur was apologizing for his wrongdoing—magic was used openly on the streets—magic users were voluntarily traveling to Camelot in order to help in the war effort. Suddenly the war was not between magic users and magic haters—but between magic users with different ideologies. Clearly some sorcerers disagreed so entirely with Morgana that they had basically jumped at the chance to use their magic in the fight for Camelot. It had given Morgana's sorcerers pause—they were reexamining their positions.

And Morgana would be lying if she said it hadn't given her pause as well.

Before Arthur's legalization of magic, she would have said that any magic user who was aware of the atrocities committed by Uther and Arthur would have sided with her immediately. What had she done that they had rather side with those murderers than with her? Her mind went to Mordred. His master had been killed by Uther's men, he himself had almost fallen prey to them, he had sided with Alvarr and tried to overthrow Uther, to allow magic back into Camelot. And yet, when she had had Arthur in her grasp, Mordred had turned on her—had attacked her! He was the only one left she had to love—

Morgana shook herself. That door was closed, now. Mordred had sided with Arthur. But why? He had wanted the freedom to use magic as much as she did—she had seen that clearly. Why would he turn on her—side with Arthur? When they had spoken last he had said that her hatred could not win—that she killed the innocent just as Uther had done. But she had only done what was necessary!—what needed to be done in order to destroy Arthur, to rule Camelot, to bring magic back, that people like Mordred could live in freedom.

But now he had freedom.

Morgana closed her eyes and rubbed her forehead with a frown. Arthur was evil—she needed to remember that. He was just like Uther. He had killed, he had usurped her throne. He must die, and then she could bring back the Old Religion to Camelot. And she would take her rightful throne, her crown.

"My lady!" Glanmor ran back into the room, out of breath. "Kara is gone!"

Morgana glared at him. "Gone?" she asked, dangerously quiet.

"Her room is empty, and she is nowhere else in the manor house or on the grounds."

"THERE SHE IS!" someone shouted from outside, and Morgana sprang from her chair and strode to the door. "SHE'S HEADING EAST!"

As she reached the east side of the building, Morgana spotted Kara, galloping away across the plain toward the cover of the forest. "Shoot her," she said calmly to the man next to her, who was holding a crossbow.

"I can't hit her at this range," he answered bewildered.

She snatched the crossbow out of his hands and aimed it. "I can," she said, and as she pulled the trigger, her eyes flashed gold. The bolt sped toward the girl, and everyone squinted into the evening light to see it as it struck her leg. Kara lost her balance for a moment and reeled in the saddle, but she clung on, and in a moment she had disappeared into the forest.

"Shall we send someone after her, my lady?" Glanmor asked.

"No." Morgana handed the crossbow back to the stunned soldier. "Don't waste your energy." She strode back into the hall. "Call in the spy. I hope she's still here?" she added sarcastically as she disappeared into the shadows.

"Yes, my lady," Glanmor said nervously.

In a few minutes, the spy stood before Morgana's chair. "You know what you are to do?" Morgana asked.

The girl nodded, her lips set tightly together. Who knew she could look so determined? "I will tell Arthur that I have double-crossed you—that I know where you will strike next and that I will tell him in exchange for a royal pardon."

Morgana nodded, but eyed the girl closely. "Many of my agents have defected now that Arthur has legalized magic," she said. "Are you sure you are in no danger of doing the same?"

"Guinevere had my father killed," the girl answered levelly. "I do not have magic, so I don't care what he legalizes. I only want revenge."

Morgana smiled. "A girl after my own heart. Good luck, Sifa."

TBC


AN: Hi, guys! I'm baa-aaack! Miss me? :)

Realized about a week ago that I'm spelling Sefa wrong. Oh well. I'm going to keep my spelling for the sake of continuity.

(PS: If anybody wants to see photos and blog posts from the youth pastor about the road trip I was on last week, you can check them out at undergroundparents dot com for the month of July '13!)