a time when he had said this to the first woman who had ever come to him, and saw Morgaine reflected in his eyes and Ah, for that, my friend, you must ask leave of sir Gawaine. In her mind she could hear Arthur's voice, feel his rage . For what do you make war, except that peace may come for all our people? If a soldier loves his trade overmuch, then he becomes no more than a weapon for killing.
That must be as the Goddess wills. They would have much to speak of, and I think Morgaine knows a little of the Irish tongue. You cannot take my place there, and so, may the Goddess help us both, you must keep my place here. Mother, she whispered, forgive me.
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