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Wizards, herbalists, druids and those of the many religions of the Romans avoided Camelot, only the very bravest or the most foolish daring to defy Uther's ban. Camelot had been won for the light, the king said, all the old superstitions and foolishness swept away. The people kept their celebrations quiet, and timed them to coincide with those of the soldiers' faith. Arthur reported that his men heard no one swear by anyone other than the Lord of the Light; Morgana felt embarrassed to witness his eager joy at Uther's smile.
She herself kept her devotions, such as they were, private. On the eve of the Day of Rest she lit her candles and prayed what few words she could remember. Gwen always stood by the door, listening for approaching footsteps, and insisted on quickly putting the candles away for the next week once the blessing had been completed. Morgana watched her, thinking of the way, right from the start, Gwen had echoed her Amen, and felt ashamed to see her work when all work should be forbidden.
"Gwen," she said, wetting her finger in some drops of spilled wine, "do you know this word?" She paused; she could remember only two words her mother had taught her, and she could not write the Name in wine that would be wiped away from the table. She clumsily wrote Life instead, and looked up at Gwen, who was shaking her head.
"No, I'm sorry," Gwen said, and swept her fingers through the word, drawing instead a quick outline of a fish. "Do you know this?"
"No," Morgana said, as Gwen quickly wiped the table dry.
"My father says it's safer not to talk about such things, and won't tell me much, even when I ask him," Gwen said. "Perhaps he's right."
"My mother said it would be safe once the king's grief lessened," Morgana said, feeling the sharp pain of losing her strike her heart as if the wound were fresh. "But every time he looks at Arthur he remembers his wife died giving birth. We have little to pass to our own daughters, Gwen, and they will have less for theirs."
"There are places other than Camelot," Gwen said, "where the king's grief does not reach and the soldiers' faith is not the heavy burden it is here, and people may tell their children other stories. Maybe we'll go to a place like that." She took Morgana's hand in her own. "Don't look so sad, Morgana. The knowledge kept from you and me is easily found." She smiled widely at Morgana's questioning look. "In order to know what is forbidden in the kingdom, someone will have made official records. Geoffrey of Monmouth, or Gaius – all we have to do is read their books. We'll have them called away and we'll sneak in and read to our hearts' content, or we'll persuade Gaius's new apprentice to borrow the books for us, or we'll start a fire and help save the books -"
Morgana found herself laughing. "Oh, yes, it all sounds very easy."
Gwen squeezed her hand. "That's good. Keep laughing. As long as we're alive, we haven't lost everything, you'll see. Every lost thing will be found, and you'll live as you wish. Both of us will."
Morgana tightened her own fingers in response to Gwen's smile. Life, she thought, and held on to the word in her mind. She and Gwen would have their own lives, and Uther's grief would abate, and Arthur would not be so unhappy.
Camelot would be a better place. They would all have lives worth the living.
