Author's notes: I hope you are ready for this week's chapter. The title probably gives the content away, though that conversation is towards the end of the chapter. There is still a bit of Merlin and Arthur too.

Thank you for your reviews and welcome to new readers who are now following the story or have made it into one of their favourites. It is so nice to know I am still picking up new readers, but I'd also love to hear from you.

Chapter Twenty-One

The Queen and The Witch

When Arthur and Merlin had finished interviewing Morgana, Arthur decided he should go in search of his wife to find out what was troubling her, and, strongly suspecting she was beginning to remember the time she had spent under Morgana's control, he asked Merlin to accompany him.

As Gwen had swept out of the royal chambers mumbling some excuse about taking care of the visitors to Camelot, they first checked the busy council chambers, but to no avail. After a quick deliberation, their next destination had been the palace kitchens, assuming Gwen might be giving instructions to the cook, yet the kitchen servants had spoken only briefly to The Queen when she had stopped by earlier in the morning and no one knew where she had gone since.

The head cook, a very big, sweaty and extremely perturbed woman, cornered her sovereign, wielding a large wooden spoon. It appeared Queen Guinevere had forgotten to return to discuss that evening's dinner menu and she was at a loss to know what to prepare for such a large gathering... and could his majesty be of any assistance?

Backed up against a long table, Arthur tried to maintain his royal dignity and decreed that herb-crusted capons should be served along with a haunch of venison and spit-roasted suckling pigs. However, his knowledge of cooking being sparse, he quickly ran out of ideas, but with an amazing degree of self-preservation, he suggested that perhaps the chef was better placed than himself to know which vegetables should accompany those dishes. He then made a quick retreat from the over-heated room, hauling a compliant Merlin behind him.

"That woman is formidable." Arthur wiped the sweat from his brow, leaning against the cool stone wall of the passageway. "Whoever thought planning a dinner could be so stressful, never mind preparing it."

"I always said you never appreciated your servants, though she scares the pants of me," Merlin huffed in reply, before offering Arthur some advice. "You really shouldn't have ordered those capons. You know they're your favourite, but you can't afford to eat too many now that you're unable to train as rigorously."

"Merlin, are we discussing my weight again?"

Looking The King up and down, Merlin finally conceded. "Actually, you've lost quite a lot of weight since you were injured, but I'm just reminding you for future reference..."

"And I'm reminding you that I am still a king and you can't talk to me like that!"

"But you said I was your adviser and I'm just giving you the benefit of my counsel."

"Merlin!" Arthur exclaimed, lightly cuffing his adviser around the head, but Merlin ducked and Arthur's hand collided with a very shocked George who had approached the pair in silence.

"Sire?" the servant asked, his martyred expression suggesting he was prepared to accept any abuse his king might see fit to dole out.

"George!" Arthur said, not knowing whether to apologise or burst out laughing, yet his gravitas won out. "I'm sorry, George. I didn't see you there and that... tap wasn't meant for you."

"I'm glad, Sire. I would never seek to make you unhappy with the performance of my duty." He gave one of his immaculate bows. "But perhaps you could help me, Sire. I need to talk to The Queen about the increasing numbers of guests who are still arriving, yet I have been unable to find her."

"Me neither," Arthur muttered. No wonder his Guinevere was so distressed. It seemed that almost everyone in the castle was expecting her to mend their problems, and he hadn't helped by scaring her half to death this morning. "George, Queen Guinevere is under a great deal of pressure right now, so I would be grateful if you could see to the accommodation of the new arrivals. It's my assumption these people are from the outlying villages and, since the citadel seems to be bursting at the seams, I wonder if they could be lodged in the taverns or in the homes of the townspeople. The royal exchequer will pay for their keep, of course, but if you could turn your considerable talents to making those arrangements, you will have the ever-lasting gratitude of your king."

George gave one of his tiny smiles; there was nothing he liked better than showing off his competency. "I will see to it immediately, Sire. You can rely on me." With another of his wooden bows he turned to go, but Arthur called him back.

"George, I would also appreciate your discretion regarding Queen Guinevere."

"Sire, you and The Queen have my complete fidelity. I will say nothing." With those final words, he hurried off to carry out Arthur's instructions.

"I didn't believe it possible, but I've grown quite fond of George over the years," Arthur admitted, watching the little servant leave. "In a strange sort of way."

"He's certainly loyal, and his heart is in the right place," Merlin agreed, but quickly changed the subject. "Yet we're still no closer to finding where Gwen has gone... and Arthur, I think she needs us."

"She does... but why didn't she turn to me, Merlin? She knows I love her and that I would do anything in my power to help her."

There was a dread silence before Merlin spoke. "Perhaps Gwen believes she doesn't deserve your help."

A strangled groan broke from Arthur's throat and his gaze was bleak. "We have to find her, Merlin."

At a loss to know where to look next, Arthur and Merlin decided to split up to scour the rest of the castle, which was no easy task. However, they were saved from a long exploration by meeting Geoffrey of Monmouth on the stairway.

"Good day, Sire," he said, bowing formally and a little stiffly, due to his arthritic bones. "I trust you are well this morning."

"Tolerably well," Arthur replied, giving the old man a small smile which robbed his rather curt answer of its sting. "I wonder if you know where we could find The Queen? We seem to have misplaced her, and it will soon be time for the council to resume."

"I believe Lady Walton and Mary Howden are with Queen Guinevere. I saw them heading towards the lady's bower."

Arthur's eyebrows rose. There was a lady's bower in the citadel, but it was a room seldom used by Guinevere, as she chose to spend most of her private time in her husband's chambers, which had become the royal apartments since Arthur's coronation.

After thanking Geoffrey, the two friends went to find Guinevere, but here too they were thwarted. Amena and Mary sat huddled by the window, while around them groups of noble women talked in animated whispers.

The fraught atmosphere in the bower caused Arthur and Merlin to exchange worried glances, certain that some altercation had occurred. Thankfully, if there was a Lady Avebury, she had not journeyed to Camelot with her husband so couldn't support his cause by undermining Arthur's Queen. Yet perhaps some of the other visiting noblewomen could have upset Gwen.

Arthur crossed the room to his wife's friends, but before he had a chance to speak, Mary Howden interrupted.

"Your Highness, I do not wish to speak out of turn," she said, almost forgetting to bob a quick curtsey, "but what is wrong with Guinevere? I have known her since she was a little girl and she is acting so unlike herself."

Due to his anxiety, The King ignored Mary's question. To tell the truth, he didn't quite know the answer. Instead, he asked a question of his own. "She was with you?"

"Yes! Until a few moments ago when she burst into tears and fled the room."

"Do you know where she has gone?" Arthur's lips thinned. "Merlin and I have been looking everywhere for her."

"But what has happened, Sire?" Unfamiliar with royal protocol, Mary pressed her query home. "The Gwen I knew was caring and kind, but always in control..."

"She is still caring and kind... and lovely," Arthur countered immediately. "That's why she is so troubled now."

"Is she unhappy being Queen?"

Unfortunately Mary had chosen the one topic which Arthur dreaded hearing. The lines between his eyebrows deepened while his gaze turned inward. His Guinevere was the perfect queen, but it was his love for her and their marriage which had made her a target for Morgana. Perhaps it would have been kinder to have left her to Lancelot all those long years ago. Seeing her with someone else would have been almost impossible for him to endure, but she might have been happier and definitely safer. After all, when you love someone that is what you wish for them.

Merlin gave Arthur a glance before stepping forward to answer. "Mary, Guinevere loves Camelot almost as much as she loves Arthur and the people adore her. I'm sure Gwen has never regretted her choice to become Queen of Camelot."

If it were possible, Mary Howden looked more upset and she was about to persist with her interrogation when a kindly voice spoke at her side. "If we are to continue this conversation, might I suggest we do it somewhere more private." Lady Amena kept her voice low as she glanced over the other ladies in the room, who were surreptitiously trying to eavesdrop. Clearly every one of them had witnessed The Queen's sudden, troubled exit.

"Arthur?" Merlin touched his friend's arm, causing The King to bestir himself.

"Yes, I agree," Arthur replied, giving himself a mental shake. There was no use dwelling on what might have been. The truth was, Guinevere was both his wife and queen... his wise helpmate, and he doubted he could go on without her by his side. "Amena, Mary, will you accompany Merlin and myself?" At their hurried nods of assent, he stalked from the room, saying to the noblewomen who watched with curiosity and envy. "Ladies, you will excuse us. It seems my wife is a little indisposed. I trust you will be discreet, as I would hate to hear The Queen's name being bandied about in idle speculation."

There were various words of assent, though Arthur had no doubt that whenever the door closed behind him, the gossip would begin. Didn't these women have anything better to do?

Once in the passageway, it was testament to Arthur's worry that he escorted his little group to the nearest alcove which afforded them a meagre amount of privacy. Coincidently, it was here in this recess during Uther's reign, where Arthur had assured Gwen his love wasn't due to an enchantment and that he would willingly give up his right to the kingdom for her. There was hardly an inch of this citadel which didn't invoke memories of their lives together.

Quickly checking there was no one in the corridor, he lowered his voice and leaned closer to the ladies. "It's true. Guinevere is not acting normally, but understand that I love her dearly and would do anything to help her. She is a much loved queen, not just by me and her friends, but by all of Camelot." Arthur looked at Merlin for reassurance, who quickly gave it with an empathetic smile. "However, Guinevere has been under a great deal of strain lately. Not just nursing the wounded and dying at the battle of Camlann, but afterwards when she knew I was missing and might be dead... and I don't think I have to mention that this Grand Council calls for a huge amount of organisation. She does have help in that sphere, but Gwen takes her responsibilities very seriously. Under normal circumstances, she is a perfect Queen... yet this situation is not exactly ordinary."

"I can imagine; the place is full to bursting," Mary commented, smiling sympathetically. "I doubt Camelot has had to accommodate quite so many visitors before."

"Yet I don't believe that is the only reason for Guinevere's troubles," Amena added, piercing the two young men with a wise, knowing stare. "I get the impression The Queen is capable of dealing with these onerous guests, if there was not something else troubling her... and don't mention the battle, nor the fact she thought you'd been killed, though I'm sure that scared her dreadfully at the time. All that is in the past; Albion won and you are alive, but Guinevere's emotional state is worsening."

Amena watched Gwen's husband and her friend carefully as they gazed back at her like a couple of cornered rabbits. "Sire and Merlin, we only wish to help Guinevere. I know you have her best interests at heart, however, sometimes a woman needs some female friends to talk to, but we cannot comfort her if we don't know the full extent of her problems."

Again the two men exchanged concerned glances, before Arthur had another look to be certain they were still alone. "Very well, we will be candid, but this must remain our secret." He sighed in resignation, but knew Lady Amena was correct. "Some months ago, Lady Morgana succeeded in kidnapping Guinevere using sorcery, and though we managed to rescue her within a few days, I'm afraid my step-sister had already enchanted Gwen by subjecting her to..." But here Arthur halted, unable to go on as he contemplated what mental tortures his wife had undergone.

"Lady Amena," Merlin took up the explanation. "You studied magic once, so perhaps you have heard of The Tiene Diaga?"

"Oh, good gracious! Indeed I have - a dreadful initiation." The old lady's hand trembled when she reached out to touch the distressed husband's arm. "That poor sweet child; what torments she must have borne." Seeing Arthur's expressive blue eyes open wide with horror, she decided not to elaborate. "We will say no more of that," she said, shaking her head. "At least you managed to rescue Guinevere, though I am astonished. It would take a very powerful sorcerer to cleanse her soul."

"It did," Arthur replied softly, but with such depth of feeling no one could doubt his sincerity. "Merlin saved my wife's spirit long before he saved my life. I owe Merlin more than I can ever repay him and he has my ever-lasting friendship and support."

"Which is as it should be," Mary said practically. "Yet if Gwen was saved, why is it she is suffering still?"

Again the friends exchanged looks, wondering who would continue the account. Finally, Merlin chose to talk. "While she was under Morgana's control, she carried out actions which Gwen would never contemplate in her right mind. I don't think we need to go into details, but Morgana's orders were treasonous. When Gwen came back to us, it seemed her memory was wiped clean of these crimes, and Arthur, Gaius and myself decided it would be better for Gwen to leave things that way. However, these memories are resurfacing..."

"It started with nightmares," Arthur took up the telling. "Very short, chaotic dreams which were easily soothed away. Lately, though, there have also been daydreams. Guinevere blanks out for moments at a time, with such a look of terror on her face, it chills me to the bone. She mentions the names of people she harmed when enchanted. She is so bewildered and hurt, yet she will not let me talk to her, nor comfort her. She runs from me," Arthur finished mournfully, his gaze dropping to study his boots.

"That does not shock me," Amena announced. "Those recollections were bound to occur, and perhaps it would have been better if you had spoken with her after the cleansing spell, explaining that she had committed these crimes, but she was not to blame in any manner."

Defending their decision, Arthur bridled, though he did sound a little like a penitent school boy. "We discussed it with Gaius, and we all came to the same conclusion to protect Guinevere..."

Amena tutted. "Why is it men always think we have to be protected for our own good?" The older woman asked of the air around her.

Mary folded her arms across her chest. "We understand you thought you were doing the right thing, but obviously your good deed has backfired, and now I suggest you leave Lady Amena and myself to look after Gwen... Sire," she added, though it was clear from her manner that she also saw him as a misguided boy.

Arthur protested, feeling a little hard done by. "We all agreed it was for the best. You must believe I would never do anything to cause Guinevere hurt. I love her more than I can express."

Amena and Mary exchanged smiles, before Amena yielded. "Of course, we know that. It's plain to everyone who sees you with Gwen, but I don't think I'm wrong in assuming that Gwen doesn't have many close friends. And before you jump down my throat, I'm quite aware that Merlin and the knights care for her like a sister, but we feel Guinevere needs female companionship, and we don't mean these haughty noblewomen. So, if you have no objections, Arthur, we would like to help her?"

Looking completely nonplussed, Arthur could only nod his head until his tongue caught up with his thoughts. "Please do. If you have Guinevere's best interests at heart, I'm happy for you to talk with her, but do you have to know the things she did?"

"I don't think that will be necessary," Amena offered, giving Arthur's arm a squeeze of gratitude. "We intend to listen to what Guinevere has to say, and we'd rather do that without preconceptions. Now off you go and leave your wife to us. She's in safe hands, I assure you."

"You have to find her first," Arthur announced with just a tiny show of sulking. He was used to being told what to do by Merlin or Guinevere, but not usually by women of his court, though he did accept that his wife was in need of some female friends. Since Seefa had disappeared, she had not even had a personal lady's maid, and that was wrong.

Truth to tell, he'd thought Guinevere had a soft spot for Seefa, and she'd believed the young girl was coerced into acting against Camelot by loyalty to her father, who had died long since. Now magic was, hopefully, going to be tolerated, he wondered where Seefa was and if the maid would be prepared to return to Camelot and Guinevere's employ? He'd ask Merlin and Iseldir to look into her whereabouts and sound out her feelings. But until they'd found Seefa, perhaps he'd ask Mary to stay and keep Guinevere company, though she 'd most likely be anxious to return to her village and her ailing husband.

"Don't worry about that." Arthur was snatched out of his musings by Amena's words. "I have a good idea where Guinevere has gone, and Mary and I should go after her."

Both women bobbed a quick curtsey and hurried off down the corridor, leaving Arthur and Merlin standing slightly mystified.

"Merlin, is that the second time Lady Amena has dismissed me?"

"I'd say so," Merlin said, nodding his head in an exaggerated manner. "And, to tell the truth, I don't think it will be the last."

Giving a quirky smile, Arthur sighed. "You're probably right, but as long as she can help Guinevere, she can treat me how she likes... within reason."

"Yes, Sire," Merlin said, snapping to attention.

They shared a slightly worried laugh, yet both felt Gwen would be safe with Mary and Amena. Walking in the other direction than the one the ladies had taken, they decided to head to the council chambers to sound out the general atmosphere before today's council meeting started. Somehow, in comparison, Avebury's opposition now seemed easier to handle.

Guinevere's hands were clenched as she waited for the guards to open the cell. In fact, the soldiers had been rather reluctant to give The Queen access to the prisoner, but she had convinced them, without actually saying so, that she had permission from The King.

Of course she knew Arthur would be most upset by her plan, but she could no longer stand living in this state of disorientation. She knew she'd been kidnapped and enchanted, and she was beginning to suspect that she'd carried out some terrible acts while under the spell.

No, that wasn't quite right, she knew she had acted as a traitor to Camelot and to her husband, she just wasn't completely sure how. Now she was about to visit the one person who might be able to tell her exactly what crimes she'd been compelled to commit. Though, since the witch was claiming amnesia, she could come away from this meeting as lost as ever.

Guinevere's chin lifted in determination as the heavy door opened. It was better not to think in a negative way. For Arthur, for her friends and for the sake of Camelot, she had to put her demons behind her and move on, and she couldn't do that until she learned what those demons were.

The Queen moved cautiously into Morgana's room. She'd heard that wards had been put in place to eliminate her old mistress's magical powers, yet she couldn't help but tremble as she saw Morgana lying on her bed in the gloom.

There had obviously been some attempts to make the cell more comfortable, yet the one window high in the wall shed only a feeble light and there were no lamps or candles lit, though there was a wall sconce on either side of the door. If Morgana still had control of her magic, Gwen suspected these torches would be burning.

Before the soldier shut the door, Guinevere turned. "It's very dim in here. I can hardly see where I'm going. Please, could you light the torches?" The Queen was always polite, but clearly this was more of an order than a request.

However, the old sergeant thought to question his mistress. "Are you sure that's wise, Milady? The King asked us to make the cell a little more comfy, but we know what the Lady Morgana did with fire in the past."

"We do," Guinevere concurred. "But I'm sure if she could, Morgana would have already lit the torches."

"Don't worry!" Morgana stated, sitting up straighter in her bed. "I have no powers of magic. In fact, I'm not sure I remember ever having them." As Guinevere's expressive eyebrows rose, Morgana added quickly. "Oh, I no longer doubt what I've been told... but my memories of sorcery are somewhat fragmented."

Morgana's statement put Guinevere in a quandary. If Morgana's lack of memory were genuine, then she wouldn't be able to answer her queries, so there was little reason for her to be here. Yet, for some unknown reason, she didn't want to leave. Truthfully, she wasn't sure what to do. In order to gain some breathing space, Gwen turned back to the guard. "If King Arthur has ordered the room to be furnished, perhaps a small candelabrum might be brought. Could you see to it? But in the meantime, light one of the torches."

"Yes, Milady." He quickly produced a flint box and the wall sconce blazed into thick smoky light, causing The Queen to blink.

"And, Walter, perhaps the beeswax candles instead of the tallow," Gwen suggested with a smile.

"Of course, Milady."

The old soldier grinned, pleased that The Queen would know his name. Their queen was not one of your stuck-up noble types who looked down their noses at people like him, and for that, he and the majority of Camelot's ordinary population was very thankful.

Surprisingly, neither was The King who, unlike his father, seemed happier amongst his warriors than his councillors. One thing Walter was sure of, Arthur's soldiers would follow him to the gates of hell and beyond. They definitely wouldn't be giving his majesty a hard time in this Grand Council thing, which gave him food for thought.

Walter had been a citizen of Camelot all the days of his life. His father had been an elder of The Farrier's Guild, and he himself was a member, though, being a younger son, he'd gone to be a soldier. They had said some commoners would have a vote, and he wondered if the leading members of the Guilds would be included. He'd have to enquire and maybe rustle up some more support for King Arthur and Merlin. Walter's son had followed his example and become a soldier, and he'd told his father how The Emrys had saved his life, along with most of his squad, at Camlann. The least Walter could do was help Arthur and Merlin now.

However, while he passed on The Queen's request for good candles to a servant, he reflected he wasn't too thrilled with Queen Guinevere being shut in with the witch, even though she was acting more like a young Lady Morgana whose spunk he had admired in the old days. With that thought, he decided to leave the door open a slight crack and be on alert.

Both women within the cell noticed the door was left slightly ajar and, with some surprise, shared an amused, yet tolerant smile, understanding the reason. For moments, it seemed neither knew how to open the conversation, but finally Morgana spoke.

"It is good to see you, my lady," Morgana smiled again. "Yet it seems Walter doesn't approve of your visit." There came a strangled, embarrassed cough from outside, but still the door didn't close. "Perhaps we should humour the guards, though I mean you no harm," she added, standing, her willowy figure swaying somewhat. "How can I help you, Guinevere?"

Compassion and habit won out in Gwen's heart, and she stepped closer to steady Morgana. "Are you well? Perhaps you have not been fed..." But as she turned to issue another request, Morgana quickly replied.

"Please, I am fine, and Arthur has attended to all my needs." She pointed to a screen in the corner of the room, where a wash stand could just be seen. "Even a privy, and it is emptied regularly. I've also been fed well, but it seems I have little appetite."

"Perhaps you need some tempting." Gwen couldn't believe she was talking of such mundane matters, but she didn't feel ready to broach the true reason why she'd come. "Have they offered you apple crispels? I remember you used to love them. I'll mention it to the cook..."

"Gwen, why are you being so good to me?" Morgana looked uncertain. Once, she and Gwen had been close, but from what she'd been told, she'd treated Guinevere very badly in recent years, and some of her own foggy memories confirmed that their relationship had soured.

"Because there was a time we were friends, I think, and because I want to know what you did to me in that tower. No one else will speak of it." Gwen's hands bunched in the silk of her skirts. "Arthur says I was rescued, and that's all that matters, but I know that's not true."

"Maybe he is protecting you from something it would be better for you not to know," Morgana suggested. There was an edge to her voice, but she was not being unkind.

At that, Gwen's spine straightened and she made her hands uncurl. "I am not a foolish woman who needs shielding from the truth. Besides, I have nightmares and more... daydreams which are so sharp in my mind..."

"So clear that you believe they are memories?" Morgana said, echoing The Queen.

"You understand?" Gwen caught Morgana's gaze and the women stared at each other. "You have them too?"

Morgana didn't seek to break away from Gwen's questioning eyes. "Yes, but I fear my flashes of memory are more terrible than anything that might trouble you." At last, Morgana moved, turning aside, not looking at her erstwhile friend as she spoke. "Whatever you recall doing, it was never you. Your mind was under the control of a powerful sorceress; a High Priestess."

"That High Priestess was you, that I do know."

Swallowing the horror that threatened to choke her, Morgana blurted out. "I do not say I remember everything, but yes, I now believe that is the truth. I wish it wasn't, and I am sorry for any pain I caused you."

"And you think apologising makes everything fine?"

Morgana swung back to Gwen. "No, never! I have already told Arthur I do not expect him to forgive me, nor anyone in Camelot to forgive what I have done... whatever that might be." She looked around the cell, as if she might find the truth lurking in the shadows. "When I discovered I had magic, I was lost and terrified of what Uther might do to me if he found out. His own ward..."

"He loved you. He wouldn't have executed you. "

A strangled laugh escaped Morgana. "Can you be certain of that, Gwen?"

The Queen hung her head, unsure of her answer, at first, but then she remembered the last months of Uther's life. "I think so." She stared once again at Morgana, a strange mixture of censure and sorrow in her eyes. "There is no doubt your betrayal of him broke his spirit. Uther was never the same man after Arthur rescued him from the dungeons where you had cast him. He was ill from that day forth. Only the threat to Arthur's life roused him, and he was killed protecting his son. The assassin's knife might have pierced Uther's heart, but it was already broken by you."

"What can I say. I have no excuse. I allowed my fear to turn into hatred... such hatred." She shook her head, yet she didn't appear completely repentant. "I watched in horror as he executed people suspected of sorcery and even those who might have sheltered them. Your own father was killed!"

At those words, Guinevere flinched, but she also realised that Morgana knew more than she was prepared to admit. "You have no need to remind me of that," she countered, her voice and expression severe.

"Did you not hate Uther for that?" Yet when Guinevere refused to answer, Morgana continued. "Then I met my sister, and she showed me how I could fight back. Wouldn't you have taken that chance? Wouldn't you have tried to kill Uther?"

"No!" There was another silence as Gwen considered her reply. "Merlin once asked me that, too, and I will tell you what I told him. If I'd tried to take revenge on Uther that would have made me a murderer. That would have made me as bad as him... as you became a tyrant, just like him."

Taking a couple of steps towards Gwen, Morgana tried to justify her choices, even if she didn't remember clearly what actions she had taken. "I only wanted to bring magic back to Camelot, so that people like me need not live in fear of death."

"Then why didn't you turn to Arthur?"

"What good would that have done? He has been king for years, yet he is only now trying to repeal the laws against sorcery," Morgana threw at Gwen, her words striking like a knife.

"Can you blame him, Morgana?" Gwen retorted, sharply. "You and Morgause hardly gave him cause to change his mind about magic. You created an immortal army and killed thousands of people, soldier and commoner alike. Was that a good example of sorcery?"

Now it was Morgana's turn to stumble. She knew she was on dangerous ground, as if she stood on the edge of a cliff... and, if her memory returned completely, she would fall into a pit of self-derision. She took refuge in prevarication.

"I've already told you I don't remember..."

"And I don't believe you." The Queen walked regally to the door before she turned and looked once more at Morgana. "You see, I know exactly what you are going through, if your amnesia is genuine. Shadowy pictures haunt your sleep and you catch yourself in the daytime recalling things you would rather not be true... yet you know without a doubt that they are."

She laid her hand on the latch ready to leave Morgana behind. She had been wrong to come here.

Only, as she did so, Morgana spoke again. "But what I said earlier is true. You were not to blame for whatever you did. I believe I enchanted you and forced you to obey my will. It would have been impossible for you to resist. You were totally innocent, Gwen."

Without glancing backwards, Guinevere spoke softly. "Thank you for that. Perhaps, given time, I can learn to live with my evil deeds, but I can never totally forgive myself. Goodbye, Morgana."

She pushed the door open and strode through, eager to be gone, but she heard Morgana's final words, seeming to drop like stones into a lake, before Walter slammed the door shut.

"No more can I."

If you reached the end of this chapter, I would love to know your thoughts. Did the conversation between Guinevere and Morgana disappoint? If you have the time, please review. Now I've reached over 100 reviews, I'm being optimistic and hoping for more!