I found Aurelius and Uther on the road returning from the battle with Vortigern. The old Fox had come to a messy end: locked in a burning tower, deserted by his closest allies. Even his son, Pascent, had fled to the coast, leaving his father to face justice alone. Thus the fight had been short and sharp, and decisive. The two brothers were still flushed with exultation when I met them a little north of Glevum, near where they had finally run Vortigern to ground.

Aurelius had been instantly proclaimed High King by those who supported him. I saw him and shuddered: he was so young!

'You were scarcely his age when you took the tore,' Pelleas whispered to me as we waited to be ushered before him.

True, I suppose, but I had hoped for a little more maturity to work with – I groaned for the work ahead. Young Aurelius was High King in name only; his biggest battle lay before him, for he had yet to win the support of the majority of smaller kings, most of whom thought themselves eminently qualified to rule the roost now that Vortigern was gone.

Winning fealty would be a rough campaign in itself; it did not need Hengist to make it more bloody than it already promised. I knew that many of the lesser lords would not be convinced by anything other than brute force. That was bad enough, but Hengist had yet to be dealt with. In short, I saw nothing for it but to advise Aurelius to make quick work of any who would not uphold him.

If he would listen to me. I had no right to expect that he would. Pelleas was more optimistic. 'Everyone has heard of Myrddin Emrys,' he told me. 'Of course he will see you. He will welcome you like a brother!'

Like a disreputable uncle, as it turned out. But he did agree to meet with me, which was something. I sat across the board from Aurelius in his skin tent, and we drank mead together while he watched me and tried to make up his mind about me. Uther had already made up his mind, and fussed and fidgeted in the background, trying to be noticed by his older brother so that he could say what he thought – which would in no way be complimentary, I was sure.

Aurelius had a brooding look, accentuated by a head of curly dark hair cut close to his skull in the Imperial manner, and dark, dark eyes, set deep under even dark brows. He had a high, noble forehead and a well-formed, unlined face, now sun-browned from his days on the road.

He also had Maximus' sword. Though I had not seen it since meeting the Duke of Britain that day in Elphin's stronghold when I was a small boy, I recognized it at once: the fine-honed steel, the bronze hilt wrapped with braided silver, the great eagle-carved amethyst winking purple in the pommel – there is not another like it in all the world.

How he had come by it, I could guess. How he had managed to keep it was the real marvel. If Vortigern, or anyone else, had known about it, he would not have lived to see this day. Old Gosselyn saved the boys, and he saved the sword; in so doing, he preserved more than he knew.

Aurelius looked me over carefully as I came to stand before him. The expression of vague disdain tugging at his features gave me to know that he thought little of the intrusion of an unexpected madman into his plans.

But, like it or not, we were stuck with each other. For neither of us was there anyone else. It all came down to us. I could accept that, but I did not know if Aurelius could.

'I am glad to meet the famous Merlin at last,' Aurelius said, trying out his best diplomacy. 'Your fame precedes you.'

'As does yours, Sire.' I used the newly-adopted epithet to show my support of his claim to the High Kingship. This pleased him immensely and the light came in his eyes.

'Does it indeed?' He wanted to hear it from my lips.

'How should it not? You have vanquished the usurper Vortigern and have collected the blood debt owed you these many years – and this in most impressive fashion. All the world is singing your praises.'

Whether or no he was true High King material, this little speech of mine would tell.

He smiled, but shook his head slowly. 'Not all the world, surely. I can think of a fair few who are singing their own praises even now – and some were men who marched with me but a few days ago.'

So he did not rise to the bait. Well done, Aurelius! My next probe sought different territory. 'Well, what of them? What does it matter what a few self-important grumblers think?'

'I only wish that I could dismiss them so easily. In truth, Merlin, I need those grumblers every one. They are all that stand between me and Hengist -' he flashed a sudden smile, ' – between my rump upon the throne and that blood-lusting Saecsen's. I like to think the Britons would prefer mine.'

'Yours is an admirable rump, my king,' I agreed with mock solemnity. 'Much to be preferred to any Saecsen rump.' And we both laughed. Pelleas and Uther stared at us as if we were drunk in our cups.

'My lord brother,' protested Uther, unable to hold himself back any longer, 'you have only just met this man and already you bespeak confidences to him.'

'Only just met? Oh, I think not, Uther. I have known the man for a very long time, it seems to me. And we have been testing one another since he walked into this tent.' Aurelius turned back to me. 'I will trust you, Merlin Ambrosius. You will be my counsellor -' Here Uther snorted loudly and shook his red locks in sharp disapproval. 'He will be my counsellor, Uther! I need an adviser, and we are not exactly neck deep in volunteers.'

Uther subsided, but Aurelius had warmed to the matter on his heart. 'Yes, another score left this morning – left the picket before dawn. My lords and chieftains are deserting me, Merlin. I have delivered them from Vortigern, and now they turn against me.'

'How many warriors are left?'

'There are two hundred here, and five hundred follow a day behind.'

'Seven hundred is not a man too many to take on Hengist,' growled Uther.

'Yes,' admitted Aurelius ruefully, 'and half of those are Hoel's men and they must return to Armorica soon.'

'It is worse than I thought,' I told him.

Aurelius dashed down the last of his mead and sat looking glum. Uther paced dejectedly. How quickly the moods of the young can shift!

'Though not as bad as it might be,' I began. 'I have friends in the west, and in the north. I believe we can count them among your supporters.'

The north!' Aurelius slapped the board with his palms. 'On my life, Merlin, if I had the north behind me, the south and midlands would fall in line.'

'The west is where the true power lies, Aurelius. It always has. The Romans never understood that, and so never really conquered this island at all.'

The west?' sneered Uther, as if it were a disease. 'Cattle thieves and corn merchants.'

'So the Romans thought,' I replied. 'And where is Rome now?'

He glared lethally at me as I continued: 'But go to Dyfed and Gwynedd, and see for yourself – the Cymry are still there. Still ruling their clans with dynasties that stretch back five hundred years, a thousand! And they are as strong as ever, stronger perhaps now that Rome can no longer bleed them of men and tribute. Cattle thieves and corn merchants! Arms alone do not make a king strong, it takes cattle and corn as well. Any king who finally understands that will be High King indeed.'

'Well said, Merlin! Well said.' Aurelius slapped the board again. 'What do you propose? Shall we ride to the west first? Or to the north?'

To the west -'

'We will go at once. Today!' Aurelius stood up, as if he would dash out and leap upon his horse.

Standing more slowly, I shook my head. 'I will go alone.'

'But -'

'I do think it best if I go alone. It has been a long time since I lived there. It would be well for me to see how matters sit first, before arriving with an army. Let me win them for you before you have to deal with them.'