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By Root 1404 0

one by one, proceeding around the Round Table to take their seats. A few years back, some craftsman had wrought in gold paint and crimson the name of every Companion over his customary chair. Now, as they entered, Morgause noticed that the seat nearest the King, reserved all these years for his heir, had been painted with the name Galahad. But she saw it only in a flicker of her eye. For at the great thrones where Arthur and Gwenhwyfar were to sit, two white banners, like the garish banners with which the battles of the clowns had been fought, had been draped, and across them were scrawled paintings, ugly caricatures—on one throne was a banner portraying a knight standing on the heads of two crowned figures, bearing a devilish likeness to Arthur and Gwenhwyfar; and across the other was a lewd painting which made even Morgause, who was by no means prudish, blush, for it depicted a small, dark-haired woman, stark naked, in the embrace of a huge horned devil, and all about her, accepting certain strange and disgusting sexual ministrations, were scrawled a group of naked men.

Gwenhwyfar cried out in a shrill scream, “God and Mary defend us!”

Arthur, stopped dead, turned on the servants in a voice of thunder. “How came this—this—” Words failed him and he waved his hand at the drawings. “—this here?”

“Sir—” the chamberlain stammered, “it was not here when we finished decking the hall—all was orderly, even to the flowers before the Queen’s seat—”

“Who was last in this hall?” Arthur demanded.

Cai limped forward. “My lord and my brother, it was I. I came to be certain all was in good order, and I swear as God sees us all, everything was ready at that time to honor my king and his lady. And if ever I find the foul dog who sneaked in to put this thing here, I will have his head like this!” And he gestured as if he were wringing a chicken’s neck.

“Look to your lady!” said Arthur sharply. The women were twittering and chattering as Gwenhwyfar began to sink down in a faint. Morgaine held her up, saying in a sharp, low voice, “Gwen, don’t give them this satisfaction! You are a queen—what do you care what some fool scrawls on a banner? Control yourself!”

Gwenhwyfar was crying. “How can they—how could they—how could anyone hate me so?”

“There is no one alive who can live without offending some idiot or other,” said Morgaine, and helped her toward her seat. But the more crudely sexual of the banners was still draped over it, and Gwenhwyfar shrank back as if she touched something filthy. Morgaine threw it on the floor. There were wine cups set; Morgaine gestured to one of Gwenhwyfar’s waiting-women to fill one and give it to the Queen.

“Don’t let it trouble you, Gwen—I imagine that one is meant for me,” she said. “It is whispered indeed that I take devils to my bed, and what do I care?”

Arthur said, “Get this foulness out of here and burn it, and bring scented woods and incense to take away the stink of evil.” Lackeys scurried to obey him, and Cai said, “We will find out who did this. No doubt it is some servant I dismissed, coming back to embarrass me because I had shown some pride in the decorations of the hall this year. Men, bring the wine round, and the ale, and we will have our first round of drinking shame and confusion to that stinking louse who tried to spoil our feast. Will we let him? Come! Drink to King Arthur and his lady!”

A thin cheer went up, which grew to a genuine cry of appreciation as Arthur and Gwenhwyfar bowed to them all. The feasters seated themselves, and Arthur said, “Now bring before me any petitioners.”

Morgause watched as they brought up some man with a complaint which seemed stupid, about a boundary. Then came an overlord who complained that his vassal had taken a deer on his lands.

Morgause was near Gwenhwyfar; she leaned over and murmured to the Queen, “Why does Arthur hear these cases himself? Any of his bailiffs could handle this and not waste his time.”

Gwenhwyfar murmured, “So I once thought. But he hears a case or two like this, every year at Pentecost, so that the common folk may not think