Suddenly an image flashed into Morgaine's mind, of the skeleton of a horse bearing her own riding gear . I am not so old. I hate Avalloch! Morgaine was surprised that her rage was physical, a scalding pain beneath her breastbone, a shaking through her whole body. And then at the very last moment she held him away, while he gasped and pleaded, and she whispered-
Only a few hours gone, it seemed to her, she had lain in Accolon's arms in the fairy country, had belted the sword Excalibur at his waist . at all her life had been preparation for this moment when, as the Goddess herself, she raised the cup between her hands. remember what he wants of you. I have been lonely, Morgaine, Uriens said, with a fretful note of reproach.
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