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treason hurt me. Deeply. I don't want that to happen again."
       On that uneasy note the meeting ended. No one talked much as they left.
       Merlin asked Nimue to wait for him a moment. Then he collared Brit at the foot of the tower stairs. "You are assem­ bling a spy network? Why wasn't I told?"
       "Arthur wants security."
       "I am his prime counselor."
       "Even so."
       "What else do I not know about?"
       "How can I know what you don't know, Merlin?" She grinned and walked off breezily.
       "Brit!"
       But she kept going. Merlin looked to Nimue and sighed. "I should have stayed in Egypt. I was happy when I lived there."
       "Do you seriously expect me to believe that everyone in Egypt is devoted to learning? That there are no politicians there?"
       Unexpectedly, Arthur ran lightly down the steps and joined them. "I always wonder how a man as learned as you can be so naïve, Merlin."
       "You were eavesdropping." It was an accusation.
       "How could I not? Some voices carry. Besides, Brit wants me to master the art of espionage. I believe in start­ ing small." He grinned his boyish grin.
       But Merlin was in no mood for this. "I am not naïve." His voice was firm. "Whatever I am, I am not that."
       "Power is a drug, Merlin. Like sex, it is satisfying for it­ self. People—some people—lust for it the way boys chase after butterflies. For no other reason than that to have it is satisfying. You've never understood that. You're too besot­ ted with books."
       "Is this a confession, Arthur? Are you admitting that you are addicted to power?"
       "No." The king became distant. "I want power for the good it can do. But Guenevere . . . she wants it for itself, the way her dumb consort Lancelot pursues sex with scullery maids. Understand that, Merlin. It is government."
       "You are too cynical, Arthur."
       "Wearing the crown makes a man a cynic. Let's go to the dining hall. I haven't eaten, and I hear they have some good ham."
       "I will follow in a moment, if you do not mind. I want to have a word with Colin."
       Arthur headed off to dinner. Merlin turned to Nimue. "Thank you for waiting."
       She smiled. "I've already eaten, remember?"
       "Probably too much, as usual. You should exercise more."
       "Are you trying to hold me to the standard for women, Merlin? Or, a man named Colin, remember?"
       "While you can get away with it. People are gossiping. I've overheard two different conversations among servants who think you odd, who think you are hiding something."
       "Servants gossip. What of it?"
       "If they are talking about you, other people may be as well."
       She exhaled deeply. "And if they are?"
       "Think. You adopted this male disguise for a reason. If Morgan should even suspect you are living here as Colin, you will suffer the consequences. At the very least, she would demand you be returned to her court. She might force you to go through with that marriage to her son. And those are the benign possibilities. If she feels vengeful . . . You know as well as I do how vindictive she can be. Re­ member the chest of poisons she keeps."
       "What do you want me to do?"
       "Just be careful how you present yourself, in public. You
    are the best assistant I could want. And for that matter you are a good friend. I hardly want to lose you."

    So everyone at Camelot watched and waited. And two weeks later more intelligence arrived from Captain Dalley at Corfe. Merlin, Brit and the king sat in the king's study and went over this new report.
       Things had been unsettled at the queen's castle. Guenevere and Lancelot, though married, maintained sepa­ rate apartments. They did not often dine together. Lancelot insisted on this, apparently so he could continue his infidelities with every woman who gave him the opportu­ nity. Guenevere was oblivious to this, or she simply did not care. Still, publicly they were happily