Sedate hoofbeats echoed from the nearby forest. Hunith paused at the outskirts of the village, surprised and wary that a mounted rider approached. With the autumnal equinox creeping nearer and thick cloud cover, the sky was already dark, so she squinted through the gloom as a lone rider emerged.
It was a woman, though she rode astride. When Hunith recognized the rider, a delighted smile split her face and she rushed forward, scattering geese and chickens. Gwen smiled back, hopping down from the horse's back to meet Hunith's outstretched arms.
Laughing, Hunith stepped back, hands on Gwen's shoulders as she looked her up and down. "You're looking well."
"As are you."
"How is Merlin?"
Gwen smiled fondly. "Safe and complaining endlessly about Arthur."
Hunith chuckled. "I'm sure Arthur gets in a complaint or two. Congratulations on your marriage."
"Thank you." A shadow crossed Gwen's good-natured face.
"Is Arthur not the husband you dreamt he'd be?" Hunith would have a stern talk with Arthur if that boy did not appreciate the gift of Gwen's devotion.
"No, Arthur's lovely," Gwen hastened to assure her. "Marriage is lovely. I just needed to be away for a bit."
A spark kindled once more in Gwen's brown eyes and Hunith breathed an inward sigh of relief. Those two deserved their happiness.
She brushed a curl from Gwen's brow. "Why are you glad to be away?"
Gwen sighed. "Being a queen is difficult."
Relieved Gwen was not facing more heartbreak, Hunith chuckled. "Well, I wouldn't know."
The horse snorted and stamped at a few noisy chickens who had gotten too close to her hooves.
"Martin," Hunith called to a young boy who was attempting to round up the chickens. "Tie Gwen's horse near the sheep in the north meadow, please, and I'll cut you an extra slice of pie at supper."
The last of the previous year's grain had been milled into flour now that the food stores were built up once again, so she and the other women had baked pie as well as bread.
Grinning, he eagerly held out a hand for the reins. Gwen patted her horse's nose, whispered soothing words, and handed the boy the reins. Hunith put an arm around Gwen's shoulders and steered her inside Hunith's hut.
It was a joy to have the young woman back again, even briefly, with her kind smile, strong hands, quick wit, and good heart. At one time, Hunith had hoped Gwen would be her daughter through marriage, but that hope had long ago dwindled. She would settle for her company and more of the smiles that had been so rare during her last stay.
"Sit down, I'll get us some wine and bread. Are you hungry?"
With the harvest finally done, Hunith looked forward to a meal of something other than cold pottage. There was hot stew and fresh bread, but before Hunith could fetch anything from the eating hut, Gwen took her firmly by the arm and sat her down.
"I'll get them."
Hunith opened her mouth to protest about guests and hospitality, but Gwen gave her the stern expression that probably kept King Arthur in line, so Hunith folded her hands in her lap and sat quietly while Gwen went to fetch wine and a bite of food.
As soon as she was out the door, Hunith bustled around the hut's tiny, dim interior, making sure the laundry was put away and the beds neatly made. Her heart lurched as she closed the curtain around Morgana's space. What would Gwen think of Morgana living in Ealdor? How would Morgana feel about seeing Gwen? Hunith had only about an hour to prepare Gwen for a possible meeting before Morgana returned.
Gwen's cheery voice called a greeting to someone in the street and Hunith hastily resumed her seat, hands in her lap.
Gwen shouldered aside the blanket as she came in carrying two mugs and a cloth bundle that smelled of warm bread.
She winked at Hunith as she handed her a mug. "I know you were tidying up, now sit there, relax, and drink."
With a wink in return, Hunith took a sip of sweet wine.
Gwen unwrapped their snack and sat beside her. "You didn't know I was coming, did you?"
Bewildered by the question, Hunith shook her head.
"I see you have an extra bed made up." Gwen gestured toward the curtained-off corner.
Hunith's heart skipped a beat as her mind scrambled to explain without giving away the name of her housemate before she could ease into the subject. "A young, homeless woman took refuge with us. Tell me how hard it is to be a queen."
Gwen took a deep drink of wine. "The ladies of Arthur's court, and the gentlemen, too, think I'm ignorant but I'm quite aware of their ridiculous rules of etiquette, I simply choose not to abide by them." She heaved a long-suffering sigh. "I knew what I was getting into; I've changed these people's linens since I was ten years old and I know a lot more about them than they realize." She wrinkled her nose. "Quite a bit more than I want to, actually."
Hunith could not restrain a chuckle.
"We've just fought off an invading army, a dozen fields were burned that are only now being re-sewn, people are hungry, and half the city has to be rebuilt. For all my criticism of Arthur riding off with his knights on patrols or chasing bandits when he should be handling paperwork, I quite understand why he feels the need to get out of that castle as often as he can. I've barely set my hand to the endless administrative tasks and I'm exhausted, so when he left this time, I came here."
"Is that why you're spending time away from your marriage bed when your first moon together is barely done?" The way Arthur and Gwen looked at each other, Hunith had expected them to spend much longer than the traditional month wrapped up in each other, but of course a royal couple would not be afforded the luxury of much time alone.
"It is." Gwen broke off a piece of bread. "Arthur headed out yesterday in search of adventure which he calls protecting the kingdom when he should be ensconced in the castle, surrounded by guards, like a proper king." She rolled her eyes. "I'd worry about him except he had the good sense to take Merlin with him." She waggled her brows.
If only she knew, Hunith thought.
"To make matters more uncertain, no one knows what happened to Morgana, where she is, or when she'll strike again." Gwen chewed a bite of fresh rye bread. Arthur had sent emissaries to his allies and spies to his enemies searching for word of Morgana's whereabouts without result.
Guilt curdled in Hunith's stomach. She took a deep drink of her wine, trying to decide what to say. Perhaps if Gwen was now willing to share how her friendship with Morgana had disintegrated, Hunith could find a way to reestablish a little trust between them, at least enough that Gwen would accept Morgana's presence in Ealdor.
"What happened between you and Morgana?" Hunith tempered the potentially volatile question with a tender tone. "You were so close." They had worked as a team, Gwen sharpening weapons and Morgana testing them, both training the village women to fight, able to communicate with a look.
Gwen swallowed, then picked at the chunk of bread in her hands. "It's a long story."
"If you're still not ready to revisit that pain, I understand, but I'm willing to listen if you want to tell me." Hunith held her breath, trying to quell her anxiousness to hear the answer.
Gwen continued to pick at the bread but did not take another bite. "I realized she was hiding something from me. It may not sound important, but you have to understand that we shared everything. We were each other's confidante for all the minutiae of our lives, for personal things we never told anyone else. For her to hold back was hurtful. I realize it was probably her discovering magic but at the time I had no idea what I had done. I thought she suspected my feelings for Arthur and disapproved." She tore the bread into smaller and smaller pieces. "But Morgana's behaviour became more erratic and more secretive and the less she trusted me, the less I confided in her. I still don't know much of what went on with her and Morgause," the venom in Gwen's tone when speaking the name suggested what she thought of her former mistress's sister, "but I suspect they were meeting in secret even before Morgana was kidnapped." She squeezed the shredded bits of bread into a paste. "When she came back, after a year of praying and waiting, I hoped we would finally repair our friendship, but things got so much worse so quickly." Her eyes were bright with moisture. "I caught her plotting with Morgause and using magic and I had no idea who to turn to. I told Gaius, but there was no speaking ill of her to Arthur. Perhaps I should have tried harder to expose her because she was aware of my suspicions and nearly had me burned at the stake." A shudder wracked Gwen. "I was dragged to the dungeons while she smiled."
Hunith gasped. She had expected the story to be dark, but to smile at causing suffering like that; it was difficult to imagine Morgana capable of such callousness.
"When the truth came out, about Morgana being a witch, I tried to imagine how frightened she had been and why she may have kept it from me, but I can't forgive her for not telling me, for not trusting me." Gwen sniffled and used her sleeve to wipe her face.
A pang went through Hunith and she hoped Merlin's caution, a caution she and Gaius had encouraged, would not similarly destroy his friendship with Arthur. Had Morgana come to Hunith with the truth, would she have encouraged her to confide in Gwen or would she have urged her to keep her secret? Not that Hunith agreed with Gaius's refusal to even discuss the matter with his patient if, as Morgana claimed, he offered drugs and lies instead of solace and support, but she probably would have insisted that Morgana hide her gifts instead of trusting Gwen with knowledge that would get them both killed. It made her uncomfortable to realize how that mistrust made Gwen feel.
Hunith handed Gwen a cloth.
With a tearful smile, Gwen dabbed her eyes and blew her nose. "The next time I saw Morgana, she was plotting with Helios. She hunted me down on horseback and cursed me, hoping I would be killed for sport." Gwen balled the cloth in her fist. "She spoke to me with such cold hatred, like a stranger. Helios showed more kindness for me and he would have slit my throat had he caught me spying." She shuddered. "Then I saw her again in the battle to retake Camelot. She disarmed me and drew back her arm to run me through when something saved me."
Briefly, Hunith closed her eyes. It was worse than she had imagined. There was no repairing this friendship, not in the span of a single visit, if ever. She could not even ask Gwen to sleep in the same hut as Morgana; she would have to find a spot elsewhere. At least Gwen was well-liked and would have several offers of shelter. Hunith drew breath to explain who was sleeping in the curtained alcove when the blanket on the door was pulled aside and a flash of daylight and summer breeze swept in.
"Hunith, we were wondering where you..."
Unable to forestall the events unfolding in front of her, Hunith watched as Morgana froze on the threshold, her words dying in her mouth, and Gwen turned to stare in horror at the woman in the doorway.
Gwen leapt to her feet, grabbing for the small dagger in her belt, but Morgana did not lift a hand in her direction. Gwen paused, a glint of satisfaction in her face that the witch had not flung a spell at her, then she must have realized that Hunith was unsurprised at Morgana's presence. Her gaze darted back and forth between them, studying Morgana's peasant clothing and dirt-stained skirt and Hunith's guilty expression.
"Hunith, what is she doing here?"
Hunith sighed. "I'm sorry, Gwen. I was about to tell you."
Gwen's brown eyes glittered dangerously. "That the woman who wants to murder me lives here?"
Morgana stiffened.
"Yes."
"Will you let her stab me while I sleep?"
It was uncharacteristically cruel of Gwen and Hunith winced at the impossible situation they were in. "No. I understand you cannot stay here at the same time as Morgana and we'll find you a place where you feel comfortable. Any woman in Ealdor would gladly offer you a bed."
Gwen's eyes widened. "You're giving Morgana a spot in your home, not me? The woman who schemed and plotted against Arthur and me and your own son? The woman who sent an army here to hunt us down?"
Shame strained Morgana's features even as she straightened her shoulders and lifted her chin.
Sympathy for both of them clawed at Hunith's conscience. Her heart ached at the betrayal in Gwen's face and the hint of regret in Morgana's eyes, but her tone was firm. "I gave you a place when you were banished, without friends or home, and I've chosen to offer the same to Morgana. This is her home and she's staying," Hunith said, quietly but firmly.
Both young women blinked at her in shock.
"Gwen, you know I care for you deeply, but I won't ask Morgana to leave. I hope you'll stay for supper anyway, and Sandy and Rolf would be happy to give you shelter tonight."
The maidservant-turned-queen gaped.
Before Hunith could say more, Morgana spoke for the first time since entering the hut. "I'll go."
Hunith looked at her uncertainly, wondering if Morgana meant temporarily or permanently.
"I'll find somewhere else to sleep tonight." She ducked behind the curtain and came out a moment later with a bundle of bedding and clean underwear under her arm.
"You don't have to..." Hunith began.
"Helen needs help spinning and it makes sense for me to stay there instead of walking all the way back after dark." Without meeting Gwen's eyes, Morgana gave Hunith a kiss on the cheek, whispered thank you, and left.
There was a long silence.
"You can't trust Morgana." Gwen's eyes watched Hunith narrowly. "Whatever she's told you, whatever she's made you believe, you have no idea what the witch is capable of."
Sad at the animosity Gwen held for her former friend, Hunith shook her head. "I'm sure I don't know half of what she's done, but I do believe she's capable of more than you know."
"Hunith, please." Gwen sat on the bench again and grasped Hunith's arm, her expression pleading. "Morgana is dangerous. If you believe she's capable of turning back into the good person you knew, then you're in peril. You don't know what she's doing here."
Hunith laid a hand over Gwen's. "Then you should ask her."
#
Morgana picked at the stew in her bowl, listening to the excited chatter of the group near Gwen asking about her marriage and her coronation and when was she expecting her first child.
After weeks of the most intense physical labour Morgana had experienced in her lifetime, the sheaves were safely indoors where rain was no longer a relentless threat. The men had complained of getting up with the sun and working in the fields until nightfall, but the women not only assisted with harvest, but maintained the gardens, chickens, ducks, washing, mending, food preparation and storage, and she and Hunith still tended injuries, illnesses, and births. Morgana had looked forward to the end of harvest when there would be time to sleep for a full night and eat hot meals and enjoy an evening of mindless gossip and weather talk.
Instead, the hot stew tasted like ash and she had lain awake last night trying not to disturb Helen with her restless tossing. Even Morgana's lovely blue tunic did not lift her spirits. Usually, the delight in Beth's eyes whenever Morgana wore the dress cheered her with the reminder that these women valued her. Tonight, it was difficult to see those women show Gwen the same esteem they held for Morgana. They remembered Gwen with fondness, had lived and worked with her only last season, but it was hard to share their friendship when it was the only kindness Morgana received while Gwen had a kingdom at her feet. Why could she not have stayed in Camelot, sitting on Morgana's throne? How dare she come here and destroy Morgana's last bit of solace?
She looked up from her barely-touched supper to find Gwen's hostile gaze on her again. They sat at opposite ends of the long table, a village of hungry, chattering people between them, and she could still feel Gwen's coldness.
"Eat." Helen pushed a slice of pie toward Morgana.
The pie that had smelled so delicious yesterday turned Morgana's stomach. She pushed away her bowl and the pie and forced a smile through her grimace of distaste. "I think I'll get started on the spinning."
Helen touched her hand before she could rise. "Whatever happened between you and your friend, you should talk about it."
The idea that she and Gwen could talk about everything that had happened since the day they last called each other friend was bizarre. She expected a shouting match was about to occur, however.
She patted Helen's hand and rose. "See you shortly."
Though Morgana did not glance in Gwen's direction, she felt her former maidservant's gaze follow her out the door into the darkness. Morgana walked slowly, shivering slightly in the night breeze. A wolf howled in the forest. She thought she saw a flash of pale white above the treetops and decided to visit the little dragon tomorrow no matter how busy the day.
"Morgana."
She turned to face Camelot's new queen in Ealdor's dusty pathway. Gwen looked much the same as she always had: the same fur vest and riding leathers though her boots were new, the same dark brown ringlets down her back, the same brown eyes and delicate face though there was a new confidence to the challenge that sparkled in her eyes. Inwardly bracing herself, Morgana folded her hands in front of her tunic of worsted yarn and met Gwen's belligerent gaze.
Morgana's calm appeared to anger Gwen further. "You may have fooled these people, but I won't let you harm them."
"I have no army, no power, no money. How would I harm them?" It was painful to admit out loud how little she could call her own. Only the jewelled dagger and antler comb in her pouch and the clothes on her back.
"I know you, Morgana. You're always planning something."
Plans, yes, she used to have plans. She used to be the saviour of the world. Now every day she rose with the sun and did what had to be done and slept on a dirt floor. She wondered if she had ever been more content.
Gwen's eyes narrowed. "I know you hate me, Morgana, but these people have done nothing to you. Leave them alone."
Hate. Did she hate Gwen? No, she was merely sad for the future of the Five Kingdoms and Gwen's part in the continued tyranny.
"Your fight is with me, not them." Gwen drew herself up, though she was still a head shorter than Morgana. "It's my destiny you're afraid of."
"Afraid?" A bark of laughter died in Morgana's throat. "Your destiny has already come to pass."
"What destiny?"
"You married Arthur."
"For that you would kill me?" There was almost a tinge of hurt behind the harsh words.
Morgana huffed out a breath. "You and Arthur are going to rule over a kingdom that persecutes and slaughters me and my kind. Magic will never have a place in Camelot as long as the two of you reign." Maybe Morgana could have prevented this by telling Gwen of her magic at a time when they were still friends; if she had trusted more or been less afraid for her life and the lives of any who shared her secret. Her friend's loyalty may have run deeper than she imagined. Gwen may have stood by her, or helped the way she helped smuggle Mordred out. If their friendship had survived, perhaps she could have influenced Gwen and, through her, Arthur. Or maybe they were destined to be here now, like this.
Gwen looked taken aback. "Arthur is a good man and a good king."
"But magic is still illegal in his kingdom."
Gwen gave a sharp nod.
"I would be under a death sentence merely for existing within his borders."
Her former maidservant's eyes hardened. "That isn't why you would be under a death sentence; you committed treason."
"What difference is there being under one death sentence or two?" They could not execute her twice. "Beheading seems a quicker death than burning."
"Arthur would not execute you for sorcery." There was a thread of doubt in Gwen's assertion.
"So he would make an exception for me, while killing others like me?" Unlike Uther, it was possible Arthur would have showed leniency but Morgana would not stand by and watch other innocents die.
Gwen lifted her chin. "Arthur is a kind and just ruler."
"Who believes justice is served by wiping out sorcery." And dragons, she added silently.
"It seems we have nothing more to say to each other." Gwen started to turn away.
"Gwen." Morgana was afraid to ask the question that had burned inside her for years, yet this may be her only opportunity.
Her former friend paused and lifted one dark brow in response.
Morgana swallowed the apprehension stirring her empty stomach. "What would you have done if I had told you about my magic?" She held her breath.
For a moment, she did not think Gwen was going to answer.
Then Camelot's queen looked her in the eye and said, "You'll never know because you didn't trust me enough to find out."
Gwen spun on her booted heel and returned to the dining hut, leaving Morgana in the dark lane, listening to the far-off wolves.
#
Gwen got to her feet in the muddy garden, arched her back, rolled her shoulders, and inspected her hands. Her skin was dry and dirt was caked under her nails. Not proper for a queen or even a lady's maid.
It had been a long four days under cloudy skies and they were only half done; the peas were nearly harvested bur the beans were only partially gathered and they had yet to start on the vetches. She had planned to stay in Ealdor only one night and then return home, but she would not leave without discovering Morgana's current scheme.
Olwen looked up with a sympathetic smile. "Bit of a change from a royal palace, isn't it, Gwen?" She tilted her chin. "Should I call you 'my lady'?"
Camelot's new queen shook her head emphatically. "Here, it's simply Gwen. And trust me, today I'd rather have a sore back from bending and picking than from being stabbed in the back."
Sadness darkened Olwen's pleasant face.
Gwen berated herself for her poor choice of words; she had not considered that Matthew was killed by a knife in his back pinning Kanen's threatening note. "I'm sorry."
"It's all right."
"How is the threshing coming?" Gwen asked to change the subject.
Olwen smiled again. "Edern says it's going well and he expects they'll be done day after next." Her tender tone and the joy in her face whenever she spoke of her lover made her plain features shine.
Gwen wondered if her own face lit up like that when she spoke of Arthur. A pang of loneliness shot through her. She wished she knew what Morgana planned so she could expose the witch and go home. It was frustrating because everyone in Ealdor seemed genuinely trusting of Morgana.
Narrowing her eyes, Gwen looked over to where her former mistress crouched in the garden next to Beth. Morgana was not using magic. Gwen had watched her in the garden, while they were washing clothes, and during meal preparation and cleanup, and never once had her eyes flashed gold or her lips moved as she whispered a spell. Whatever had disabled her power before her overthrow must still be in effect, which did not mean she was harmless, regardless of what Hunith chose to believe.
Hunith's gullibility was a surprise. Every time Gwen broached the subject of Morgana's endless schemes and hidden purpose for remaining in the village, Hunith was quick to her defence. Nor were the other women accepting of Gwen's hints that Morgana was not what she appeared. They humoured Gwen, sympathized with her hints, then launched into a tale of Morgana's recent hard work and good deeds. The blue tunic Morgana wore had been dyed and stitched by Beth. Olwen had spoken kindly of the witch three times this morning while they harvested beans. Even Helen, whose stern glance made old and young cower, had a gentle gleam in her eye when she regarded the witch. She had gifted her a comb, a family treasure, in appreciation for a healing stone. Apparently, in addition to her help with village work, Morgana had assisted at multiple births and tended several injuries as well as offering aids for cramps, morning sickness, hot flashes, and even prevention of pregnancy, as if it would make up for the harm and destruction she had wrought in Camelot.
Morgana looked up and caught Gwen staring again. Then she bent her head and continued picking without comment, but Helen glanced Gwen's way and frowned. Despite being a grown woman and now a queen, Gwen felt like a child who had been caught daydreaming instead of doing her chores. She crouched to harvest the next row. She yanked a little too hard on a stem and sent a pea pod flying. Olwen glanced sideways with a raised brow but made no comment. Gwen mumbled an apology and concentrated on her task. She checked on the witch's progress, chagrined to realize Morgana was halfway down another row while Gwen had barely started this one. She bent her head to her task, her capable hands plucking pods and tossing them into the basket she nudged along with her foot.
Her mind wandered back to the conversation, or perhaps confrontation, she had had with Morgana the day Gwen arrived. Morgana's question had haunted her that night and every night since: what would she have done if Morgana confided in her about magic? And more, was their estrangement partially her own fault? Should she have reached out, tried harder to get Morgana to open up? It hurt to think how frightened and alone Morgana had been. To this day, Gwen woke screaming on nights when she dreamt of Uther sentencing her to be burned at the stake and it brought vivid clarity to how terrified Morgana must have been at the time, not that fear for herself justified her evil actions. It did not excuse Morgana's attempts to murder Arthur or steal his throne. That Arthur might have died at her hands while he remained unaware of her treachery stirred cold dread in the pit of Gwen's stomach.
Gwen's gaze slid back to Morgana, hands moving rapidly from one plant to the next, plucking pea pods with efficiency. When she pulled her eyes away, she caught the curiosity alight in Sandy's brown eyes as she looked between Gwen and Morgana.
"Let me help." Sandy's round face was creased in a friendly smile.
Inwardly sighing, Gwen graciously accepted the offer. They worked and chatted for several pleasant minutes before Sandy came around to the topic Gwen dreaded.
"It's so nice to have you and Lady Morgana here together again."
Gwen ignored the appraising sideways glance sent her way.
"She taught me everything I know about fighting." Sandy paused to assume what she probably considered a fighting stance and executed several awkward feints with an imaginary sword before crouching in the dirt again.
Gwen made approving noises.
"Your skill making weapons was amazing."
Despite knowing it was at least partly flattery, pride flared in Gwen's breast. Her father would be smiling from beyond the veil. "Thank you."
"You probably won't get to use that talent being a queen now and all."
That was a depressing sentiment, though likely correct. There were many skills Gwen would not use again, and the ones she was learning were not particularly to her taste. "Probably not."
"I'm sure it's worth it to come home to that handsome young king of yours." Sandy waggled her brows.
Gwen could feel the heat in her cheeks and was glad her blush was not highly visible. She kept her eyes down as her hands plucked pea pods.
"Nothing for a married woman to be ashamed of." Sandy nudged Gwen in the side with her elbow. "My husband may not be as handsome as yours but he's virile."
That was more information than Gwen wanted. She hoped her blush was still hidden under her brown skin.
"So is the Lady Morgana really the king's sister?" A hint of salacious curiosity coloured Sandy's friendly tone. "Time was I thought the two of them, well, you know."
It was an uncomfortable picture, even if it had seemed a foregone conclusion at the time: the king's son and king's ward, joint rulers of Camelot. Gwen had not begrudged Morgana her casual claim to Arthur, though she had always treated him more as a sibling than a lover. Gwen cleared her throat. "As far as I understand, yes, they shared a father."
"And the king a married man." Sandy tutted.
Gwen refused to discuss Uther's dalliances. His mistakes were in the past and Camelot was better for having Arthur sit the throne now.
"They say Lady Morgana's a witch but she hasn't caused a whit of trouble since she's been here." Sandy's blue eyes were earnest.
A pea pod crunched in Gwen's grip. She pinched it back together, hoping no one had noticed.
"Live and let live, I say."
Gwen tossed the split pod into the basket. Morgana's accusation niggled at her conscience: I would be under a death sentence merely for existing within his borders. Arthur had even made tentative overtures to Sarrum of Amata about forging a truce since the Sarrum was as committed to the eradication of sorcery as Uther had been, though his methods, according to the stories Gwen had heard, turned her stomach. How could she and Arthur hold themselves as just and fair rulers and then ally with a sadistic dictator who was no better than Morgana?
Perhaps she should return to Camelot, tell Arthur where Morgana was, and let him determine what action to take. Unless the best action right now was inaction. Arthur was not well-suited to inaction.
Maybe he would leave Morgana be if she abandoned her claims to his crown. Which she was doing by living in Ealdor, beyond the borders of Camelot, working in the gardens instead of raising another army. Gwen paused to allow her hands to stop shaking. If Morgana had truly forsaken further attempts on Arthur and was willing to publicly renounce her claim to Uther's throne, she should be left in peace. It would be better for all of them, for all their peoples, if Uther's bastard daughter faded from history.
Gwen got to her feet, brushing off her hands. "I'm sorry to leave you, but I should get on the road while the sun is high." She had not known of her decision to abandon her fruitless surveillance of Morgana until the words were out of her mouth, but once said they felt right.
"So soon?" Sandy appeared disappointed. "We'll miss you, Gwen." She stood to give Gwen a hug.
"Thank you. I wish Ealdor were closer so we could see each other more often."
Gwen returned Sandy's embrace, then repeated her farewells as the other women noticed her leavetaking and came to add their well wishes. The warm send-off eased Gwen's pique at having witnessed the regard they had for Morgana.
She glanced to where Morgana stood, watching but not participating in the sendoff. There was no indication she was glad for Gwen's departure, or sad, or that she felt any emotion at all. She merely watched the proceedings as if the women were saying goodbye to a stranger.
"It was nice of you to visit, child." As Helen pulled Gwen in for a hug, she whispered, "Don't worry about your friend, she's fine here." The elder pulled back and held Gwen at arm's length. "We'll all be fine."
Gwen gave a tiny nod to Helen and then called a final goodbye to everyone before she hurried toward Hunith's hut where the older woman was preparing healing salves. Gwen would not go without leaving instructions for getting in touch with the palace if, in fact, Morgana did reveal some nefarious purpose.
When Gwen pulled aside the blanket that covered Hunith's doorway and ducked into the moist warmth of the hut's interior, the sweet, spicy smell of coriander hung heavily in the air along with the scents of garlic and onion.
Hunith turned from her makeshift table, which was a board laid across two barrels, and used her sleeve to wipe moisture from her brow. "Gwen, is something wrong?"
"I just came to get my things and say goodbye." She was gratified by the sincere disappointment in Hunith's expression.
"I'll miss you. It's been a pleasure having you here, Gwen."
"Thank you."
"Let me clean up and I'll pack you bread and cheese for your journey." Hunith was wiping her hands on a rag as she spoke.
"Don't go to any trouble, really."
Hunith smiled. "It's my pleasure. I'll be right back."
While Hunith was gone, Gwen gathered her things, rolling them up in a neat bundle. Then she pulled a gold pin in the shape of a dragon with rubies for eyes from the innermost pocket of her pack and held it tightly. If anyone accosted her on the road, it was a symbol of her value, a token to convince anyone with malevolent intent that Gwen was far more valuable alive than dead, but she would make the return journey without it.
"We're in luck, there was blackberry pie and a fresh loaf of bread as well as a chunk of goat's cheese," Hunith called as she ducked back inside holding out a sweet-smelling cloth bundle.
"Thank you." Gwen set down her pack to take the bundle, then pressed the dragon pin into Hunith's palm.
Eyes wide at the expensive treasure, Hunith tried to give it back.
Gwen folded Hunith's fingers around it. "Take this, and if you need to get a message to Camelot quickly, anyone bearing this pin will get speedy escort from any of our patrols."
Understanding dawned in Hunith's face. She held Gwen's gaze. "I'll keep it, but there's no need to worry about Morgana. We're fine here."
The similarity to Helen's words made Gwen cringe though she refused to accept without reserve that Uther's daughter had abandoned her revenge.
"But I have to ask something of you, too."
Gwen nodded, her attention captured by Hunith's serious tone.
"Promise me you'll consider carefully before telling Arthur that Morgana is here."
Misgiving warred with Gwen's urge to honour Hunith's request. As much as she wanted to respect Hunith's wishes, Gwen was not certain she should conceal information of this magnitude from her new husband.
"I'm asking a lot, I know that." Hunith's blue eyes were troubled, but her expression remained determined. "But I am asking you to please leave us in peace. No more soldiers."
"Her presence won't stay secret for long." A trader, a smuggler, a spy, a traveller, someone would pass through Ealdor and say something to someone and word would reach Arthur of his sister's whereabouts. Hopefully it would be Arthur's spies who discovered her before the Sarrum's.
"I know. I'm only asking that you wait, give all of us time to heal. Please, Gwen."
It would be a lie of omission, a serious breach of the trust they vowed to each other when they married. "I have to tell him, but," Gwen held up a hand to forestall any protest, "I'll break it to him carefully."
With a sigh, Hunith nodded her understanding. "I trust you, Gwen. I know you'll do what you feel in your heart is right."
Hunith pulled her in for an embrace, squeezing Gwen's shoulders before letting her go. "I will miss you. I'm so happy you came here."
"I'm glad to see you and know you're well. I'll give Merlin your best wishes."
"Tell him to write to me more often."
A laugh escaped Gwen despite the tension that coloured their farewell. "I'll tell him, not that he'll listen to me. He's far too busy running after Arthur."
Hunith smiled in answer.