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. Promise me, Wren, that if Carradoc causes you trouble, you will send for me,or one of my Companions Lancelot, Cai, or Bedewyr would be best, they knowyou.We will all rush to help you. I have taken care of myself for a long time in the isolation of the Northlands.Your warband will do me no good stationed in Dun Edin, controlling thePicts, watching the coasts for invasion, or receiving diplomats here inCamlann.I must prepare for your wedding, Highness. I curtsied and dashed around himbefore he could react.I couldn t let him see my tears of regret.If only Ihad stood up for my rights that long ago spring morning and refused Carradocas my husband& Too disturbed by my encounter with Arthur to rest, or thinkclearly, I continued my mission to gather information.Later I would lay itall out before me and try to find the pattern.Only then could I plan my nextmove, even if that move was only to endure in silence the weeks of the weddingcelebration.Guinevere, who would become the focus of the women s bower, wasPage 182 ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.htmloccupied with flitting about Camlann with giggles and halfformed ideas for herwedding.The ladies of the court followed in her wake, arranging flowers,finishing gowns, and supervising the feast.Ihad no gathering of female gossips to tell me about Nimue and my father.For all of my stepdaughter s cooing and calling Da dearheart, Da did nothave the possessive air of a man who shared a bed with a much younger woman.Ihad never known my father to share his bed with any woman, but he mustsometimes.All men did.No one knew for certain who Nimue was or where she spent the day.Fewremembered seeing her striking figure and flaming hair.But most of myinformants thought they had seen a woman clothed in black, always in black,hovering behind The Merlin s shoulder.I slipped into my father s quarters.Carradoc and I had slept here last nightwith Da, but not Nimue.I needed to search the room for evidence of her usualpresence.I had never understood how my father could be so obsessed with balanced orderand life patterns that he was compelled to control and yet he could notmaintain the barest resemblance to order in his chamber.Parchments, dryingherbs, bottled elixirs, star charts, dirty clothing, and all of the otherparaphernalia of living littered the tiny room.Out of old habit, I began sorting the mess, trying to find his bed.I wonderedif he bothered to sleep here? Nimue certainly didn t.She couldn t tolerateanything out of place in her life especially me.She would have every pieceof equipment shelved and labeled, the laundry would be sent out daily forwashing and mending, and no dust mote would dare accumulate.I put my fist through a tear in one of Da s shirts.I had never had time orinclination to sew, mend, spin, or weave, but Ihad always made certain to find women who could tend to our needs.Da needed awoman to tend him.He needed me.No, he didn t.Not anymore.I shook my head and left the room.Nimue wants to keep his life in order.Ididn t like that alternative either.So, if Da did not share a room or a bed with my stepdaughter, where did thewoman live? And what was her role inDa s life that he allowed her to call him dearheart? I found where Nimue did not sleep.I wouldn t allow myself to believe that therelationship was innocent.Neither party did anything without layers ofmotives piled on top of layers of selfinterest.If I allowed myself to let magic flow freely through me, I would be able tosense Nimue s lair.I preferred not to stoop to my father s tricks just forinformation.Mundane means worked just as well.Nimue had to sleep somewhere,store clothing, use a privy, bathe, and eat.Where? I started in the bower alarge stone room attached to the hall, withmany wide windows.Women needed lots of light to aid their needlework.Brightautumnal sunshine poured in through the unshuttered windows.Beautifulweavings and spindles full of the finest threads I d ever seen filled the workspace.Guinevere and her ladies had set their mark on Camlann quickly.Arthur was a soldier.He wouldn t provide this luxury for his warband.Thiswas as much a military camp as a home for the Ardh Rhi.Ygraina had retreatedto a house of holy sisters after Uther s death a year ago.She had sent wordthat she would not leave the sanctuary of her new life for her son s wedding.I could not imagine flighty Guinevere presiding here.I caught a ghostly impression of how she flitted through here, faery slim,beautiful, and full of energy and laughter.Among the stacks of pallets in the corner, reserved for the unattached ladies,I found one permeated with the scent of heavy incense.I recognized thecombination of herbs from my own early lessons in vision seeking
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