"Why, as to that, I have never spoken with anyone who has been in Heaven," Lot said, "nor, I think, have you, Lord Merlin. But you are talking as wisely as any priest-have you taken Holy Orders in your old age, sir?"

The Merlin laughed and said, "I have one thing in common with your priests. I have spent much time trying to separate the things of man from those that belong to the Divine, and when I have done separating them, I find there is not so great a difference. Here on Earth, we cannot see that, but when we have put off this body we will know more, and know that our differences make no difference at all to God."

"Then why are we fighting?" asked Uther, and grinned as if he were humoring the old man. "If all our differences will be resolved in Heaven, why do we not lay down our arms and embrace the Saxons as brethren?" The Merlin smiled again and said amiably, "When we are all perfected, it will be just so, Lord Uther, but they do not yet know it, any more than we do, and while human destiny provokes men to fight, well, we must do our part by playing the games of this mortal life. But we need peace in this land so that men may think of Heaven instead of battle and war."

Uther said, laughing, "I have little taste for sitting and thinking of Heaven, old man; I will leave that to you and the other priests. I am a man of battle, I have been so all my days, and I pray to live all my life in war, as befits a man and not a monk!"

"Be careful what you pray for," said Merlin, looking sharply at Uther, "for the Gods will certainly give it to you."

"I do not want to be old, and think of Heaven and peace," said Uther, "for they seem very dull to me. I want war and plunder and women-oh, yes, women-and the priests do not approve of any of those things."

Gorlois said, "Why, then, you are not much better than the Saxons, are you, Uther?"

"Your very priests say we must love our enemies, Gorlois," said Uther, laughing, and reaching across Igraine to clap her husband good-naturedly on the back, "and so I love the Saxon, for he gives me what I want from life! And so should you, for when we have peace like this for a little time, we' can enjoy feasting and women, and then back to the fight, as befits a real man! Do you think women care for the kind of man who wants to sit by the fire and till his home acres? Do you think your beautiful lady here would be as happy with a plowman as she is happy with a duke and leader of men?"

Gorlois said soberly, "You are young enough to say so, Uther. When you are my age, you will be sick of war too."

Uther chuckled and asked, "Are you sick of war, my lord Ambrosius?" Ambrosius smiled, but he looked very weary. He said, "It would not matter if I were sick of war, Uther; for God has chosen in his wisdom to send me war all my days, and so it shall be, according to his will. I will defend my people, and so must those who come after. Perhaps in your days, or the days of our sons, we will have enough time at peace to ask ourselves what we are fighting for."

Lot of Orkney broke in, in his smooth equivocal voice, "Why, we are philosophers here, my lord Merlin, my king; even you, Uther, you have taken to philosophy. But none of this tells us what we are to do against the wild men who come at us from east and from west, and from the Saxons on our own shores. I think we all know that we will have no help from Rome; if we want legions we must train them, and I think we needs must have our own Caesar as well, for just as soldiers need their own captains and their own king, so all the kings in this island need someone to rule over them."

"Why need we call our High King by the name of Caesar? Or think of him so?" asked a man Igraine had heard called by the name Ectorius. "The Caesars ruled Britain well enough in our day, but we see the fatal flaw of an empire thus-when there is trouble in their home city, they withdraw the legions and leave us to barbarians! Even Magnus Maximus-"

"He was no emperor," said Ambrosius, smiling. "Magnus Maximus wished to be emperor, when he commanded the legions here-it is a common ambition for a war duke." And Igraine saw the quick smile he gave Uther over their heads. "So he took his legions and marched on Rome, wishing to be proclaimed emperor-he would have been neither the first nor the last to do so, with the army to support him. But he never got so far as Rome, and all his ambitions came to nothing, except for some fine stories-in your Welsh hills, Uther, do they not talk still of Magnus the Great who will come again with his great sword, at the head of his legions, rescuing them from all invaders-"

"They do," said Uther, laughing, "they have put upon him the old legend from time out of mind, of the king who was and the king who will come again to save his people when the need is dire. Why, if I could find such a sword as that, I could myself go into the hills of my country and raise as many legions as I wanted."

"Perhaps," said Ectorius somberly, "that is what we need, a king out of legend, if the king come, the sword will not be far to seek."

"Your priest would say," the Merlin said evenly, "that the only king who was and is and will be, is their Christ in Heaven, and that, following in his holy cause, you need no other."

Ectorius laughed, a short harsh laugh. "Christ cannot lead us into battle. Nor-I intend no blasphemy, my lord King-would the soldiers follow a banner of the Prince of Peace."

"Perhaps we should find a king who will put them in memory of the legends," Uther said, and silence fell in the room. Igraine, who had never listened before to the councils of men, could still read enough thoughts to know what they were all hearing in the silence: the knowledge that the High King who sat before them now would not live to see another summer. Which of them would sit in his high seat, next year at this time?

Ambrosius leaned his head against the back of his chair, and that was Lot's signal to say, in his eager jealous voice, "You are weary, sire; we have tired you. Let me call your chamberlain."

Ambrosius smiled gently at him. "I will rest soon enough, cousin, and long enough-" but even the effort of speech was too much for him and he sighed, a long, shaking sound, letting Lot help him from the table. Behind him the men broke up into groups, talking, arguing in low tones.

The man called Ectorius came to join Gorlois. "My lord of Orkney loses no opportunity to plead his case, and disguise it as thoughtfulness for the King-now we are the evil men who have wearied Ambrosius and will shorten his life."

"Lot does not care who is named High King," Gorlois said, "so that Ambrosius has no opportunity to state his preference, by which many of us-I among them, I may as well tell you, Ectorius-would be bound."

Ectorius said, "How not? Ambrosius has no son and cannot name an heir, but his wish must guide us, and he knows it. Uther is far too eager for the purple of a Caesar to suit me, but all in all he is better than Lot, so if it should come to a choice of sour apples ... "

Gorlois nodded, slowly. "Our men will follow Uther. But the Tribes, Bendigeid Vran and that crew, they will not follow any man so Roman as that; and we need the Tribes. They would follow Orkney-"

"Lot has not the stuff to make a High King," Ectorius said. "Better we lose the support of the Tribes than the support of the entire countryside. Lot's way is to split everyone up into warring factions so that only he has the confidence of all. Paugh!" He spat. "The man's a snake and that's all there is to it."

"And yet he's persuasive," Gorlois said. "He has brains, and courage, and imagination-"

"So has Uther. And whether or not Ambrosius gets the chance to say so formally, Uther's the man he wants."

Gorlois set his teeth grimly and said, "True. True. I'm in honor bound to do Ambrosius' will. Yet I wish his choice had fallen on a man whose moral character matched his courage and his leadership. I don't trust Uther, and yet-" He shook his head, glanced at Igraine. "Child, this can be of no possible interest to you. I will have my man-at-arms escort you back to the house where we lay last night."