And you, Morgaine-not a word or a look for me-? He reached out and touched her, and she said between clenched teeth, Wait. Where are you, you who should stand here in my place? Why do you linger? Your place is here . Galahad is a big lad of seven, and Nimue is five years old. You will get no sons from me, Gwenhwyfar said with a mirthless laugh.
The priest coughed and said self-consciously, The blessing of the church should be enough-why should we need Do you weep for your mother, Morgaine? For my mother-and for Viviane-and perhaps most of all for myself. Yet he had given the Goddess this much. But the clearing was empty, except for a trace of mist that blotted out the stars, and Morgaine lay down
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