I had been so involved by Queen Morgawse’s terrible story that I had heard only her voice, and barely seen or heard anything around me. But now she paused, and reached with shaking hand for the jug on her small table, and I once more became aware of my surroundings. Outside, the others had stopped their practice. The evening sun was shining in my eyes, so I shifted my seat. Morgawse poured herself more water, and sipped at it.

‘I have never told this tale to another soul, Drift of the Lake,’ she said. Her voice had hardly shaken during her story, but now it did. ‘I am telling it to you because I believe you can help the son Morgan gave me.’ She put down her cup and looked me straight in the eye. ‘I love all of my sons, Drift, even the one who was got upon me against my will. Especially him.’

‘You’ve told no other soul? Not even King Lot, my lady?’

She shook her head. ‘Lot was trapped in on the coast of the circle sea for the duration of my pregnancy. I received letters from Morgan, warning me of what Lot would do to the child when he discovered what she called my infidelity. My assumption is that Morgan was behind the things that delayed Lot’s return: first the siege, and then the storms. I concealed the fact that I was with child from everyone but Freya, retreating to my rooms and even from Gawain when it was no longer possible to hide my growing belly.

‘The child came in the spring, at the very end of April. Only Freya was with me. It was a difficult, long labour. The people of the palace thought I was shrieking in agony because I had heard a rumour of my husband’s death abroad. They tried to enter my apartments to reassure me that there had been no such news, but Freya barred the door to them. I heard my Gawain weeping outside the door at his mother’s pains.

‘But when it was over, when the pains were done, when my beautiful black-haired boy was at my breast, I realised that Freya was gone from the room. But the baby and I were not alone. Merlin had appeared in Freya’s place. He was not changed; I had not seen him in years, but he had not changed. He fixed me with those strange, swirling eyes of his, and then looked at my new baby.

‘We meet again across a new boy-child, Morgawse, he said. What have you called him?

‘I had not considered a name for him, but I spoke without thinking. Galahad, I said. His name is Galahad.

‘Merlin took a deep breath; he seemed satisfied. The empty eyes of the skull on his horrible staff seemed to flash with fire. He raised one finger and pointed at the boy. I prophesy three deaths for Galahad, he told me. The first by the cup, the second by a kiss, the third by a cut to his core. The boy has within him the power to end the age, Morgawse. Send him to me, as your mother gave up Arthur, and I will save father and son from each other.

‘The next moment he was gone, and Freya back in her place. I looked at my boy, and at once the cry went up: Lot’s ship had come into view. My husband was returned.’

The queen pinched the top of her nose, as if she was pressing the tears back into her eyes. ‘My decision had to be quick. Though my mind was muddled by the exhaustion of birthing pains, Merlin’s prophecy jolted me into clarity.’ She raised her hand. ‘I looked at my baby; he shared the black eyes my sister and Arthur both inherited from our mother. I knew then for certain that Arthur was that brother who had been taken from us, and it was he, not lamorak, who had come to me that night in lot’s form. I determined that Merlin would not take my child as he had taken the other, nameless, boy. I would not let him become another Arthur.

‘Now, I do not believe that Lot would have killed me or my child. If I had told him the truth I think it more likely that he would have hunted down Morgan, Arthur and Lamorak and tried his hand against them.’ Her eyes darted to the door. ‘I think my husband would have died. But foremost in my thoughts was the terrible fate the wizard had predicted for my son. Merlin and Morgan both wanted him. I feared – I knew – he was no ordinary child. Father and son, he said... rape and incest and magic are no beginning to a child’s life. I had to send Galahad to safety.

‘I kissed the babe for the last time, and handed him to Freya. I told that good old woman to take him far, far away, across as many seas as she could manage, and find a good family of no consequence to take him. I gave her a bag of unmarked silver to pass on to them. She was to leave the child, and never to return to Britain, or share the information of where he had come from, who his mother was...’ Her lip trembled. Tears fell freely and she made no effort to dry her eyes. ‘Gods! I thought to keep him safe! I love my sons, Drift of the Lake. All of them.’

‘My queen...’ I felt so sorry for her pain, and believed I could guess the rest of her story; there was no need for her to tell it.

‘No, no... I am almost done. It bears telling.’ She took a deep breath to calm herself. ‘Before she took him, Freya asked his name. I told her: His name will be forever carved in my heart, but it is for me alone, not for the world. She took him at once, and managed to flee the island before Lot’s ship came in. I gathered myself, and presented the best face I could to Lot.

‘That summer, word came from Erin: King Marhault and Queen Isolde were searching for the parents of a newborn boy found in the dead arms of an old woman. There was no mention of the silver I had given Freya, but I knew it was him. I said nothing. I hoped... I knew Marhault and Isolde to be good people; I would rather my son had been further away from Britain, but perhaps, just perhaps if he and they were ignorant of the truth, he might be safe from the triple death Merlin had predicted, and from my sister’s clutches. I believed that if I claimed him his fate would be all the more certain. So I said nothing. If Lot proposed a visit to his brother king in Erin I feigned illness; and besides, I quickly fell with child again, first with Agravaine, then with Gareth, and lastly Gaheris. I wished my secret son safety and health and peace. There has not been one day since his birth I have not thought of my black-eyed Galahad, prayed for him, begged the gods for his safety. I received the news of Arthur’s invasion of Erin with horror, though when they talked of the other boy, the foster-boy... Mordred, they had called him in absence of his true name – gods! how I cursed them for giving him that name, with its echo of my own and Morgan’s. When I heard of him and his quest to rescue his sister Iseult from Tintagel I made sacrifices in the hope he would rescue her, and the two of them would fly far, far away. Even when Sir Bors tricked us into sending Agravaine to Caerleon, and we heard of the May-ship, and of its disappearance, I hoped that my two sons would find safety but never return.

‘But then, one day last year, Agravaine found his way back to Orkney, and he brought my other son with him. I knew at once that the foster-son of King Marhault was my boy. He does not resemble his father – his uncle, my brother – the man who conspired with my sister to rape me – but for those black eyes...

‘And so I urged him to go, to flee. To go to safety at the fiery mountain with your fire-mage, or to the warm circle see to live as a trader with your Saracen. Even to Gaul... If only he and the Gaulish girl would forget their nobility and live out their love peacefully in Gaul. Perhaps I was cruel. No, I was deliberately cruel... I urged Lot to have no part in their war – and for a time I convinced my husband that to war against Arthur would lead to the annihilation of Orkney.’ She covered her face with her hands. ‘I cannot stand the thought of Agravaine and Gaheris and my Galahad facing Gawain and Gareth across the battlefield. I cannot bear the thought that they might slay each other. And Galahad’s triple death... I must save Mordred from his fate.’ She went on her knees before me, taking my hands in hers and looking up at me imploringly. ‘You must save him, Drift of the Lake. I beg you: convince Galahad to go; complete the task I could not. You know him best of all, he trusts you: convince him to go. Convince him to take his love and go far, far away.’

What a thing it was to be begged from by a queen. I thought of the loch, of how I had briefly hoped I could convince the others to go away and live in peace. ‘Morgawse,’ I said, ‘if I tell him your tale –’

‘I did not tell you this tale to pass onto him,’ she said, flaring in anger. ‘I told you this to impress upon you how hopeless it will be for him if he remains. How terrible his future if he does not flee.’

I helped her to stand. ‘Very well, I will try. But another bears the name Galahad now. That name was only Mordred’s in your heart. I’m not sure...’

‘Then he does not need to be here. Have him go,’ she said sharply.

I withdrew my hands and lowered my head. ‘I will try,’ I said, but I was convinced any attempt to get Mordred to stray from his pursuit of Arthur would be futile.

Just then we were interrupted by a knock at the door. Agravaine wandered into the room without waiting for a response from his mother. ‘Oh, here you are, Drift,’ he said, puzzled to see Morgawse and I standing together, apparently deep in discussion. He put his arm around his mother and kissed her on the cheek. There was an easy, affectionate love between the son and his mother. ‘You alright, Ma? Drift been doing something to your eyes, has he?’

Morgawse dabbed the tracks of her tears. ‘Your friend has been telling me a sad tale, Agravaine.’ She looked at me. ‘Of his mother, my friend Lady Nemue.’

‘Oh aye, aye, that’s a sad one,’ said Agravaine. ‘Anyhow, I came to tell you that Da’s gonnea eat.’

‘My thanks, darling. I will join him.’ She offered me her hand to kiss. ‘I hope for your mother’s swift recovery, Drift of the Lake.’ I took her hand, and bowed to her. And then, with a final significant look at me, she returned her son’s kiss, and left the room.

Agravaine stood opposite me, an ironic look on her face. ‘I love my Ma dearly,’ he said, ‘but she’s a soppy one, no doubt about it. Anyhow,’ he put his huge arm around my shoulder and guided me towards the door. ‘What’s this Petal’s been telling me about you and Bellina, eh? Widnea have seen that one coming in a million years, you old dog.’