Pain stabbed his arm, making him curl up on his rocky bed and clutch at his stump. His men had failed! Not only had they allowed his cousin to take Excalibur from under their noses, but she had somehow used the sword to persuade Arthur’s knights to fight. And now she was inside Camelot where his men couldn’t reach her. He could sense her new strength even from his sanctuary. He’d tried to send his shadow to the battlefield to make her drop the sword so his bloodbeard could grab it, but something had blocked him. If he didn’t know better, he’d have said it was his Uncle Arthur. Worse, the stupid shadrake had taken his fist, which meant he couldn’t even contact his men until he got out of here… and he hated dragons. “Stop being such a baby,” his mother’s voice came from the floor, faint but commanding. “Pick up that mirror and talk to me! We have to make new plans.”The last thing Mordred felt like doing right now was facing his mother.
