WHEN I awoke next morning it was late. The curtains had been drawn back, letting in a grey and wintry day, and Ambrosius’ bed was empty. Outside the windows I could see a small courtyard where a colonnade framed a square of garden, at the centre of which a fountain played—in silence, I thought, till I saw that the cascade was solid ice.

The tiles of the floor were warm to my bare feet. I reached for the white tunic which I had left folded on a stool by the bed, but instead I saw that someone had put there a new one of dark green, the colour of yew trees, which fitted. There was a good leather belt to go with it, and a pair of new sandals replacing my old ones. There was even a cloak, this time of a light beech-green, with a copper brooch to fasten it. There was something embossed on the brooch; a dragon, enamelled in scarlet, the same device I had seen last night on the seal-ring he wore.

It was the first time that I remember feeling as if I looked like a prince, and I found it strange that this should happen at the moment when you would have thought I had reached the bottom of my fortunes. Here in Less Britain I had nothing, not even a bastard name to protect myself with, no kin, not even a rag of property. I had hardly spoken with any man except Ambrosius, and to him I was a servant, a dependant, something to be used, and only alive by his sufferance.

Cadal brought me my breakfast, brown bread and honeycomb and dried figs. I asked where Ambrosius was.

“Out with the men, drilling. Or rather, watching the exercises. He’s there every day.”

“What do you suppose he wants me to do?”

“All he said was, you could stay around here till you were rested, and to make yourself at home. I’ve to send someone to the ship, so if you’ll tell me what your traps were that you lost, I’ll have them brought.”

“There was nothing much, I didn’t have time. A couple of tunics and a pair of sandals wrapped in a blue cloak, and some little things—a brooch, and a clasp my mother gave me, things like that.” I touched the expensive folds of the tunic I wore. “Nothing as good as this. Cadal, I hope I can serve him. Did he say what he wanted of me?”

“Not a word. You don’t think he tells me his secret thoughts, do you? Now you just do as he says, make yourself at home, keep your mouth shut, and see you don’t get into trouble. I don’t suppose you’ll be seeing much of him.”

“I didn’t suppose I would,” I said. “Where am I to live?”

“Here.”

“In this room?”

“Not likely. I meant, in the house.”