‘Do I poke my nose into your business?’ Merlin demanded. ‘Do I come and ask you foolish questions about spears and shields? Am I forever pestering you with idiotic enquiries about the manner in which you administer justice? Do I care about your harvests? Have I, in short, made a nuisance of myself by interfering in your life, Derfel?’

‘No, Lord.’

‘So pray do not be curious about mine. It is not given for shrews to understand the ways of the eagle. Now eat some cheese, Derfel.’

Nimue refused to eat. She was brooding, angered by the way Merlin had dismissed her assertion that Arthur was the true ruler of Dumnonia. Merlin ignored her, preferring to tease Gawain. He did not mention Mordred again, nor would he talk about what he planned at Mai Dun, though he did finally speak of the Treasures as he escorted me towards the palace’s outer gate where Issa still waited for me. The Druid’s black staff clicked on the stones as we walked though the courtyard where the crowd had watched the apparitions come and go. ‘I need people, you see,’ Merlin said, ‘because if the Gods are to be summoned then there is work to be done and Nimue and I cannot possibly do it all alone. We need a hundred folk, maybe more!’

‘To do what?’

‘You’ll see, you’ll see. Did you like Gawain?’

‘He seems willing.’

‘Oh, he’s willing all right, but is that admirable? Dogs are willing. He reminds me of Arthur when he was young. All that eagerness to do good.’ He laughed.

‘Lord,’ I said, anxious for reassurance, ‘what will happen at Mai Dun?’

‘We shall summon the Gods, of course. It’s a complicated procedure and I can only pray I do it right. I do fear, of course, that it will not work. Nimue, as you might have gathered, believes I am doing it all wrong, but we shall see, we shall see.’ He walked a couple of paces in silence. ‘But if we do it right, Derfel, if we do it right, then what a sight we shall witness! The Gods coming in all their power. Manawydan striding from the sea, all wet and glorious. Taranis splintering the skies with lightning, Bel trailing fire from heaven, and Don cleaving the clouds with her spear of fire. That should scare the Christians, eh!’ He danced a pair of clumsy steps for pure delight. ‘The bishops will be pissing in their black robes then, eh?’

‘But you cannot be sure,’ I said, anxious for reassurance.

‘Don’t be absurd, Derfel. Why do you always want certainty of me? All I can do is perform the ritual and hope I get it right! But you witnessed something tonight, did you not? Does that not convince you?’

I hesitated, wondering if all I had witnessed was some trick. But what trick could make a girl’s skin glow in the dark? ‘And will the Gods fight the Saxons?’ I asked.