‘Of course not, Lord. I still don’t know. You think I would hurt Gwydre?’

Arthur stared grimly at me, then turned away. ‘None of you need come,’ he said over his shoulder, ‘but I am riding to Mai Dun to fetch my son.’ He strode across the courtyard to where Hygwydd, his servant, was holding Llamrei while a groom saddled her. Galahad followed him quietly.

I confess that for a few seconds I did not move. I did not want to move. I wanted the Gods to come. I wanted all our troubles to be ended by the beat of great wings and the miracle of Beli Mawr striding the earth. I wanted Merlin’s Britain.

And then I remembered Dian. Was my youngest daughter in the palace courtyard that night? Her soul must have been on the earth, for it was Samain Eve, and suddenly there were tears at my eyes as I recalled the agony of a child lost. I could not stand in Durnovaria’s palace courtyard while Gwydre died, nor while Mardoc suffered. I did not want to go to Mai Dun, but I knew I could not face Ceinwyn if I did nothing to prevent the death of a child and so I followed Arthur and Galahad.

Culhwch stopped me. ‘Gwydre is a whore’s son,’ he growled too softly for Arthur to hear.

I chose not to quarrel about the lineage of Arthur’s son. ‘If Arthur goes alone,’ I said instead, ‘he’ll be killed. There are two score of Blackshields on that hill.’

‘And if we go, we make ourselves into the enemies of Merlin,’ Culhwch warned me.

‘And if we don’t go,’ I said, ‘we make an enemy of Arthur.’

Cuneglas came to my side and put a hand on my shoulder. ‘Well?’

‘I’m riding with Arthur,’ I answered. I did not want to, but I could not do otherwise. ‘Issa!’ I shouted. ‘A horse!’

‘If you’re going,’ Culhwch grumbled, ‘I suppose I’ll have to come. Just to make sure you’re not hurt.’ Then suddenly all of us were shouting for horses, weapons and shields.

Why did we go? I have thought so often about that night. I can still see the flickering lights shaking the heavens, and smell the smoke streaming from Mai Dun’s summit, and feel the great weight of magic that pressed on Britain, yet still we rode. I know I was in confusion on that flame-riven night. I was driven by a sentimentality about a child’s death, and by Dian’s memory, and by my guilt because I had encouraged Gwydre to be at Durnovaria, but above all there was my affection for Arthur. And what, then, of my affection for Merlin and Nimue? I suppose I had never thought they needed me, but Arthur did, and on that night when Britain was trapped between the fire and the light, I rode to find his son.