I've published the book! Arthur's Witch: The Priestess is now available on Kindle and Smashwords, and you can download the sample for free, so it's gotta be worth a look! The blurb is below.

Morgan le Fay is a woman shrouded in infamy. The original wicked witch, she is responsible for bringing the golden age of Arthur to a catastrophic end. Though evil guile, ruthless ambition and petty jealousy, she stood against the light of Britain's first Christian King, her own brother. She watched an entire kingdom burn. A subhuman monster who consorted with demons and became the Devil's mistress.

Or a woman shrouded in mystery. The original fairy godmother, she is responsible for creating the golden age of Arthur from the ground to the ramparts of Camelot. Though passion, purity of spirit and selflessness, she stood against the religious perversion which invaded her homeland and corrupted her King, her own brother. She protected an entire kingdom as a mother would a child. A High Priestess whose name and legend have been besmirched and besmeared by lesser men.

Her own story. Now told.

A/N: Muses still singing! Enjoy the chapter, and thank you for all the reviews :)

Chapter Eight - Search

In the next moment, Diana found herself being joined once more by Mrs Queen. "I must apologise for the weather, Miss Prince," she smiled. "I specifically ordered fine sunshine to last the entire day."

Diana smiled. "Alas, I do not think the Weather Company Limited is very efficient these days."

"Well, happily the joy of a picnic is that cold meats can just as easily be served indoors as out, so it will not be too much bother. With any luck it will clear by this afternoon and the party can continue as planned."

In answer, there was a rumble of thunder from overhead, a strong gust of wind and a three-fold increase in the volume of rain, followed by the immediate dashing of all the guests inside the house. Both Diana and Mrs Queen were laughing heartily by the time they stopped inside the hallway. With a smile, the mistress of the house left her, to organise the servants, while Diana went in search of her sister. For once, she was glad Cassandra was not here—she loved the rain, and it would have been impossible to prevent her from becoming soaked through and possibly quite ill. Easter was only a few weeks away, and hopefully Cassie would be able to come home for a few days. Diana fervently hoped they would be a dry few days. At least Donna had no particular love of getting wet.

Diana wandered into the drawing room—another vast space, though decorated very tastefully in pale green and gold—looking for her sister. She first saw Lois and Clark, followed by a few other acquaintances with whom she exchanged a few words of civil conversation. Outside, the rainstorm grew in ferocity, so that the air was almost opaque with water. Still, Donna was nowhere to be seen.

Seeing the increasingly worried look on her friend's face, Lois detached herself from her husband and moved over to Diana. She touched her elbow gently. "Diana?"

"Have you seen Donna? I cannot believe she would be outside in the rain but I cannot find her anywhere." Worse still, she suddenly realised, she could not see Dick Greyson either. Hera, Donna, please do not have done anything foolish…

As four eyes were better than two, Lois joined Diana in looking for Donna. It was a very large house, with so many rooms Diana lost count, so it took a long time to firmly establish that Donna was nowhere inside. Seeing that the rain was not going to stop, a lot of the guests had begun to drift home, regretfully arranging to do the day over later on in the year. Those who remained were not ignorant of Donna Prince's disappearance.

Everyone was doing their best to keep Diana calm, which largely consisted of endless cups of tea. "More tea, Miss Prince?"

Diana's eyebrow twitched. "If I drink anymore tea, I think I am liable to turn into a tea bush, Mr Queen."

She appreciated it, but she was too torn between extreme worry and intense anger at Donna's behaviour. Whatever she was doing—assuming she was not unconscious in a ditch somewhere—she must know what she was putting her sister through. She ignored the next question, instead looking over to the window to where Bruce Wayne was standing, arms behind his back and shadowed eyes on the rain outside. He did not look at Diana as she joined him, and she spoke quietly.

"They've been writing to one another."

"Yes, I know," he said quietly. Diana recognised the same note as of desperation and helplessness in his voice; it was the same one she had had in her voice all the time recently.

"The park is large, and without at least a curricle they'll not have gone far."

He turned to her. "Send out?"

She nodded. "Send out."

He swivelled around to face the rest of the room. "Queen, would you kindly have a groom ready my horse?"

"I'll have him ready my own," Oliver Queen nodded, "and one for Mr Kent." He called to a servant and said, "Have three horses made ready, Crawford."

"Four," Diana said, stepping forward.

"Five," Lois added, standing.

Mrs Queen also got to her feet. "Make that six, Crawford."

Bruce Wayne frowned. "I hardly think-"

"She is my sister, Mr Wayne, and my responsibility. I am a very capable rider, and another pair of eyes will be undeniably useful," Diana said, her voice quiet but charged with strength.

Mr Wayne nodded. "Very well. But there is no need for you two other ladies to expose yourselves to the elements as well," he said, addressing Mrs Queen and Lois.

"There is every need," Lois replied firmly. "Donna is very dear to me as well."

"And I know the land for twenty miles in every direction," Mrs Queen added stubbornly. "Crawford, six horses."

Oliver Queen frowned. "Dinah…"

She folded her arms. "Yes, Oliver?"

He sighed. "Crawford, six horses. At once."

The situation would have been amusing if it had not been so serious, and Diana felt a surge of gratitude to have such friends. Nowhere else in England would she have found two women so willing to help her, without question. While Crawford went to get their mounts ready, Mrs Queen took the other women upstairs to lend them more suitable clothes for dashing about in the rain. Diana was not shocked to see an array of exotic clothing in Mrs Queen's wardrobe, including some very eastern-looking ones. The clothes she presented Diana and Lois with were clearly of her own design. They were blouses, jackets, breeches and boots for riding, which she gave to them and then directed them to change behind a couple of screens. Diana have never worn clothes such as these before, and they were surprisingly comfortable, albeit close-fitting and rather masculine, or at least compared to anything else she had worn in the past. The boots were too small for her feet, so she simply left her shoes on and stepped out from behind the screen.

Mrs Queen was already dressed in a similar ensemble, and she eyed Diana with approval. "They fit, good. My own design—I wasn't sure."

"They're strange, but very practical, I'd imagine," Diana said, "especially for riding."

"Very. Can you ride astride or do you need a sidesaddle?"

"I've ridden astride since before I could walk."

Once Lois was ready too, they went back downstairs to where the gentlemen were waiting, with the horses. None of them batted an eyelid at the women's strange attire. The six of them went out into the rain and mounted swiftly.

"We should divide up, and meet back here in an hour, before dark," Mr Wayne said, assuming a commanding role that suited him so well Diana did not question it, and nor did anyone else. "The gardens first: the walled rose garden, the hot house and the rest."

"I'll do it," Mrs Queen said, turning her horse and riding swiftly away.

"Queen, the promontory," Mr Wayne pointed. "Search the hill and the area around it. Kent, the lake. Mrs Kent, you and Miss Prince should search the parkland. It will need two."

"And you?" Diana asked.

"The orchard and walnut grove."

That decided, they split up and galloped in their various allocated directions. Diana tried and failed to prevent her mind racing, but it screamed in every conceivable direction, flashing up all possible scenarios. Suddenly finding Donna unconscious in a ditch seemed like the most appealing prospect. No, Diana thought fiercely. Finding her safe was the best one, and it was the most likely. She had simply lost her way in the rain, she had taken shelter under a tree somewhere, she might develop a minor head-cold but no more, and Diana would nurse her back to health, as she always had since their mother had died.

Part of her reflected, logically, that even if Donna had done something unspeakably ill-advised, there could hardly be any more dishonour for the family name than already stained it. Still, Diana knew the shame and humiliation would hang over her heavily. Her father and mother were dead; it was up to her to hold the family together, keep them happy and whole. It was her responsibility, her duty—and she was failing.

After a long time searching (and Diana had not stopped when darkness fell) she had to admit that that Donna was nowhere on the Queen estate. And neither was Dick Greyson. Diana had no idea who she was angrier at—him, Donna, or herself. Why had Donna never told her things had got this far? How had they got this far? She was the head of the Prince family, her permission should have been sought, they should have courted openly, if that was what they were doing! How could they-

"Diana," came Lois' soft voice. "It's dark and they're not out here. Come, let's go back to the house. We both need to dry off, eat something and plan our next step."

"I cannot simply give up!" Diana cried, ignoring the tears mingling with the raindrops on her face.

"No one is suggesting you do, but how will you find Donna from a sick bed? You will make yourself ill before long," Lois countered, shaking her soaking brown hair from her eyes. "Please, Diana. For me."

Diana looked at her friend, seeing her shivering violently with cold and utterly soaked to the bone. She imagined she looked similar; certainly she could not feel her hands, white-knuckled around the reins. "Very well," she nodded. "Let's go in."

Lois breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank you."

When they arrived at the main house, the horses were taken away to be stabled and they went inside to hot tea and warm towels. All the others were in there, apart from Mr Wayne. A few moments after Diana had sat down, he entered, also dripping wet.

"Anything?"

He shook his head. "I am afraid not."

Diana closed her eyes briefly, issuing a plea for help to any and all gods that may be listening. "This is like a nightmare."

Dinah Queen patted her shoulder comfortingly. "We will find her, Miss Prince, sooner or later. We will."

They were all being very kind, pretending as though Donna had disappeared alone. Diana looked over to Bruce Wayne, knowing that he must be thinking the exact same thing as she. Would it be unthinkable for her to ask if Dick's intentions were honourable? After all, honourable fathers did not always produce like-minded sons. She was not given the chance to question him, however, since Crawford, the servant, knocked on the door and entered the room. He bore a sealed paper on a silver platter.

"Message just arrived for Miss Prince, sir," he said to Mr Queen.

Diana snatched it from the plate, ripping it open with such force that the wax drove itself painfully under her nails. The handwriting was Donna's, unmistakably. The letter was short.

My dearest sister,

I know you will be frantic by now, and I am so sorry for that. I am safe, and I need you to know that this was the only possible avenue available to us.

From around her, Diana was dimly aware of the others bursting into questions, and Bruce Wayne silencing them with a single gesture. She continued reading.

I wanted to tell you, Diana, so many times, but each time I said to myself I would it it, I knew it would be impossible for you to understand. We love each other you see, Dick and I. Beyond any other consideration. And we're going to be married and be happy. I will write to you again when we are settled—do try to forgive me in the meantime. Take care of Cassie.

All my love,

Donna

Shaking, dry-eyed and silent, Diana held out the letter to Bruce. He took it, read it quickly and then nodded once, also silent. He folded it back up and gave it back to her. Diana did not want to take it from his palm, but she did so, slipping it into a pocket.

"How could she?" she whispered. "How could she?"

"Is she…safe, at least?" Lois asked quietly.

"She's safe."

There was another long and protracted silence, then Bruce Wayne spoke. "Where would she want to go?"

He seemed to be speaking to himself as much as anyone, but Diana had an answer for him. "London," she said. "All I can think is London. Donna was talking about how much she wanted to be there earlier today."

"They could not get to London in one day," Clark said, then realised what he had assumed. "Um, that is to say-"

"It is alright, Mr Kent. No one is in any doubt, I am sure," Diana said faintly.

"Then should we not ride along the post road, calling at the inns they might be using?"

"No point," Bruce said. "At the very least they will be travelling under a false name, and Dick will not be using the obvious routes into London. I've taught him too well for that," he added, a note of bitter irony in his tone. "In any case, I'll go to London immediately, and begin the search there."

"We'll follow in the morning," Lois said, squeezing Diana's hand. "And rendezvous with you when you have more news."

He nodded. "Very well. Until then." He bowed to them all, but then held out a hand to Diana. "Miss Prince, if I may have a moment?"

She took it and prepared herself for a diatribe as he led her into the hallway, as best she could anyway. Instead, she found herself looking into warm blue eyes and a compassionate expression. "I will find your sister, Miss Prince. This is my fault as much as it anyone's—I knew Dick was planning something…"

Diana shook her head. "I do not see how it can be. And if it is, then the fault is also mine. We have both failed in our vigilance, Mr Wayne. If I could, I would go with you now," she confessed, looking down and away from his gaze. She knew how improper such a sentence was, but it was the truth.

He took her hand and pressed it, making her look back up at him. "Then we shan't fail again."

Without another word, he kissed her hand and strode back out into the rain, calling for his horse. Very quickly, he was lost to the night.

A/N: Review please!