Belasius neither slackened speed nor spoke. I hung on to the mare, watched the track over her shoulder, and wondered whether we would meet Cadal coming back for me with an escort, or if he would come alone.

We splashed through a stream, fetlock deep, and then the track, beaten flat along the level turf, turned right-handed in the direction of the main road. I knew where we were now; on our ride out I had noticed this track branching off just short of a bridge at the forest’s edge. In a few minutes we would reach the bridge and the made road.

Belasius slackened his horse’s pace and glanced over his shoulder. The mare thudded alongside, then he put up a hand and drew rein. The horses slowed to a walk.

“Listen.”

Horses. A great many horses, coming at a fast trot along the paved road. They were making for the town.

A man’s voice was briefly raised. Over the bridge came a flurry of tossing torches, and we saw them, a troop riding close. The standard in the torchlight showed a scarlet dragon.

Belasius’ hand came hard down on my rein, and our horses stopped.

“Ambrosius’ men,” he said, at least that is what he began to say when, clear as cock-crow, my mare whinnied, and a horse from the troop answered her.

Someone barked an order. The troop checked. Another order, and horses headed our way at the gallop. I heard Belasius curse under his breath as he let go my rein.

“This is where you leave me. Hang on now, and see you guard your tongue. Even Ambrosius’ arm cannot protect you from a curse.” He lashed my mare across the quarters, and she jumped forward, nearly unseating me. I was too busy to watch him go, but behind me there was a splash and a scramble as the black horse jumped the stream and was swallowed by the forest seconds before the soldiers met me and wheeled to either side to escort me back to their officer.

The grey stallion was fidgeting in the blaze of torches under the standard. One of my escorts had hold of the mare’s bit, and led me forward.

He saluted. “Only the one, sir. He’s not armed.”

The officer pushed up his visor. Blue eyes widened, and Uther’s too well-remembered voice said: “It had to be you, of course. Well, Merlin the bastard, what are you doing here alone, and where have you been?”

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN