“He took his time, ambling along the familiar track that led through the fields and back to Camelot. The larks trilled high in the sky and the breeze ruffled the hair on his brow, and he was happy.His mood had been quite different two days earlier when he had ridden through the gathering dusk in the opposite direction. The memory of what had precipitated his hasty visit to Morgan crossed his mind and he frowned, the serenity of his mood marred by the thought.Urien, Prince of Rheged, had asked hi...m for permission to marry Morgan. Urien had spent the previous month at Avalon because of a case of boils that Drusus could not cure. Morgan had cured the boils, and Urien wanted to marry her.There had been nothing wrong with the request. Urien was Morgan’s equal in birth. He was young, younger than she, handsome, stalwart, a perfectly acceptable candidate for the hand of any princess in Britain.Arthur had wanted to kill him.He hoped now, in retrospect, that he had not made an enemy. He was afraid he had been brutally rude to the boy.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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