Belasius neither spoke nor glanced at him, but turned his shoulders to the cloak, and the boy reached up to fasten the clasp. Across his head Belasius said to me: “I shall tell the Count of your progress. He will be pleased.”

The expression on his face was as near a smile as he ever showed. Made bold by this, I turned on my stool. “Belasius—”

He stopped halfway to the door. “Well?”

“You must surely know . . . Please tell me. What are his plans for me?”

“That you should work at your mathematics and your astronomy, and remember your languages.”

His tone was smooth and mechanical, but there was amusement in his eyes, so I persisted. “To become what?”

“What do you wish to become?”

I did not answer. He nodded, just as if I had spoken. “If he wanted you to carry a sword for him, you would be out in the square now.”

“But—to live here as I do, with you to teach me, and Cadal as my servant . . . I don’t understand it. I should be serving him somehow, not just learning . . . and living like this, like a prince.’ I know very well that I am only alive by his grace.”

He regarded me for a moment under those long lids. Then he smiled. “It’s something to remember. I believe you told him once that it was what you were, not who you were, that would matter. Believe me, he will use you, as he uses everyone. So stop wondering about it, and let it be. Now I must go.”

The boy opened the door for him to show Cadal just pausing outside, with a hand raised to knock.

“Oh, excuse me, sir. I came to see when you’d be done for the day. I’ve got the horses ready, Master Merlin.”

“We’ve finished already,” said Belasius. He paused in the doorway and looked back at me. “Where were you planning to go?”

“North, I think, the road through the forest. The causeway’s still good and the road will be dry.”

He hesitated, then said, to Cadal rather than to me: “Then keep to the road, and be home before dark.” He nodded, and went out, with the boy at his heels.

“Before dark?” said Cadal. “It’s been dark all day, and it’s raining now, besides. Look, Merlin—” when we were alone we were less formal—“why don’t we just take a look along to the engineers’ workshops? You always enjoy that, and Tremorinus ought to have got that ram working by now. What do you say we stay in town?”

I shook my head. “I’m sorry, Cadal, but I must go, rain or no rain. I’ve got the fidgets, or something, and I must get out.”