In my dream, I answered forthrightly. 'You are right when you speak of fear, Morgian, for I do fear you full well. But I know your weakness, and I have learned the strength of the Lord I serve. I will live to see you destroyed.'

She laughed charmingly and darkness leapt up around her. 'Dear nephew, what must you think of me? Have I ever done you harm? Come, you have no reason to speak so to me. But, as you profess an interest in the future, I would speak to you.' 'We have nothing to say to one another.' 'Nevertheless, I will speak and you will listen: your unreasoning hatred of the Old Way, of your own past, cannot continue. It will not be tolerated, Merlin. If you persist, you will be sacrificed. And that would be such sorrow to me.'

'Who has told you to tell me this?' I already knew, but I wanted her to say.

'Fear not him who has the power to destroy the body, rather fear him with the power to destroy the soul – is that not what poor, blind Dafyd taught?'

'Name your lord, Morgian!' I challenged her. 'You have had your warning. If not for me, you would have been killed long ago, but I interceded for you. See? You owe me a debt, Merlin. Do you understand? When next we meet, I will be repaid.'

'Oh, you shall indeed have your reward, Princess of Lies,' I told her boldly – much more boldly than I felt. 'Now get you away from me.'

She did not laugh this time, but her icy smile could have stopped the warm heart beating in the breast. 'Farewell, Merlin. I will wait for you in the Otherworld.'

While I slept, Uther heeded the counsel I had given him. He ordered the warband to be armed and, when the horses were saddled, they made their way to the place I had indicated: Penmachno, a high valley formed by the convergence of three hills, well known from ancient times as a gathering-place.

They travelled all night, the strange star lighting their way, and arrived at Penmachno as a sullen dawn coloured the sky in the east. There, just as I had said, lay Pascent and Guilomar encamped. At the sight of the elusive foe, all fatigue left the warriors and, lashing their horses to speed, they fell like silent death upon the unsuspecting enemy.

The battle proved a bloody and brutal affair. Guilomar, naked from his bed, led his warriors to the fight and was run through by the very first spear thrust. Seeing their king fall in the foremost rank, the Irish voiced a great shout of anguish and determined to avenge their chieftain.

Pascent, on the other hand, had not the stomach for a fair fight and immediately sought how best to make his escape. He pulled an old cloak over himself, caught the reins of a horse, and galloped from the battlefield. Uther saw him Seeing and gave chase, crying, 'Stay, Pascent! We have a debt to settle!'

Uther caught the coward and struck him with the flat of his sword; Pascent fell from the saddle and sprawled on his back on the ground, squealing with fear and pleading for his life.

'As you would have your father's portion,' Uther said, dismounting, his sword lowered, 'come, I will give you your desire.' With that he thrust the sword through Pascent's mouth so that the point went deep into the earth. Pascent died, writhing like a snake. 'There, dwell you now with Guilomar, your trusted companion, and possess the land together.'

Leaderless and unmanned, the Irish made a poor fight as Uther's warriors, frustrated by the long and futile campaign, exacted revenge for their dead countrymen.

The fight was over by the time Pelleas and I reached the battlefield. We sat our horses in a yellow dawn on the crest of one of the hills overlooking Penmachno and saw what I had foreseen in the embers: warriors lying dead upon a hillside thick with spears like an ash grove. Carrion birds croaked, nocking to their morbid feast, their gleaming black beaks worrying the flesh from the corpses in bloody strips.

Uther allowed the warband to plunder the Irish camp and then remounted them and turned back towards Londinium. Five days later we were met on the road by some of Lord Morcant's chieftains. 'Hail, Uther,' they called as they joined us. 'We bear grievous tidings from Governor Melatus. The High King is dead of poison by one called Appas, a kinsman of Vortigern.'

Uther nodded, his mouth tight, and glanced at me. 'How was this accomplished?'

'By stealth and trickery, lord,' the foremost rider answered bitterly. 'The craven clothed himself after one of Urbanus' kind and gained Aurelius' confidence. Thus he won his way to the High King's chamber and gave him to drink of a draught he had made – to celebrate the king's wedding, he said.' The rider paused, distaste twisting his mouth. 'The High King drank and slept. He awoke in the night screaming with the fever and died before morning.'

'What of Ygerna?' asked Uther, his voice betraying no emotion. 'Did she drink as well?'

'No, lord. The queen had returned with her father to Tintagel for her dower and was to join the king at Uintan Caestir.'

Uther appeared thoughtful. 'What of this Appas?'

'He could not be found in the governor's palace. Nor was he to be found in all the city, lord.'

'Yet, I say that he will be found,' uttered Uther softly. The cold menace in his voice cut like a blade of ice. 'All gods bear witness, on the day that he is discovered he shall share in his friends' reward which he has won by his own hand.' Then he straightened in his saddle and asked aloud, 'Where have they laid my brother?'

'By his own wish, and by Urbanus' order, the High King has been buried at the place of the hanging stones, called the Giant's Ring.' The rider hesitated, then said, 'It was also his wish that you hold the realm after him.'

'Very well, we will turn aside there and pay him honour,’ replied Uther simply. 'Then let us ride to Caer Uintan where I will have my kingmaking. I tell you the truth, Londinium has grown abhorrent to me and I will never again enter that odious city while I draw breath.'

That was one vow Uther held all his remaining days.

When the false-hearted Lord Dunaut heard of Aurelius' death he called his advisers together and rode to Lord Gorlas' holding in Tintagel to discuss how they might best profit by this sudden and unexpected turn of events. He also sent word to Coledac, Morcant, and Ceredigawn to join them. It did not take the Sight to see what they intended.

To his credit, Gorlas, although he welcomed Dunaut and extended the hospitality of hall and hearth to him, refused to participate in any talk of rebellion. Even later, when Coledac and Morcant arrived, Gorlas kept faith with Aurelius, out of respect for the High Kingship and for his daughter's sake.

'But Aurelius is dead,' Dunaut argued. 'Your oath returns now to you. And until you give it again, you are free.'

'You yourself might be High King,' put in Coledac, believing no such thing. 'Then you would not be breaking faith at all.'

'I have more honour than that!' protested Gorlas. 'Yours is a trick of words and has no substance.'

'It makes no sense to me,' Morcant complained. 'You speak of honour and trickery in the same breath – as if we had no thought at all for the good of the realm. We need a strong king to hold the land. Aurelius is gone and since from death there is no return, we must do what we can to honour him by keeping the peace of this land.'

'I will honour him by keeping my oath.' Gorlas would not be moved.

Although he loved Aurelius and wished with all his heart to honour him, he loved his daughter most dearly. And, in the end, it was his love for Ygerna that proved his undoing.

Uther, of course, could not abide this insult to his kingship, and it angered him that he was not unanimously acclaimed as High King – all the more since before his death Aurelius had ordained that Uther should follow him and complete the good works he had begun. Also, he loathed the prospect of having to fight old battles over again, battles he had himself won the first time.