Juno pushed the abominable thought from her mind but it would not leave.
Feed Therys to Gorm! His magic will be worth the innocent’s bodies.
No! She shook her head again. The maddening pounding in her skull beat at her temples. They needed him, and his magic.

But you have magic… her head told her, Power enough.

With an angry cough, Juno fled down the staircase and into the dying gardens. Voices were raised in the distance. The deed would have to be done hastily.

Therys was still checking the bonds of the prisoners. They were out of sight of the lake – a long line of confused human beings. Innocents. Her subjects.

“Therys,” said Juno, catching his arm and holding it tightly so that he could not free himself, “I have to talk to you.”
He muttered a submissive phrase and flicked a friendly smile towards her. He was making the task no easier. They came to the lake together, still surrounded by the eleven willows now weeping leaves.

“Gorm,” muttered Juno, “I have made a choice.”