I nodded. He swore as my brooch-pin scratched him, and let me go. There was a streak of blood on his hand. I saw his eyes on the brooch. He flicked his fingers to the torchbearer, and the man pushed nearer, holding the flame high. “He gave you that to wear? The red dragon?” Then he stopped short as his eyes came up to my face and fixed there, stared, widened. The intense blue seemed to blaze. The grey stallion sidled and he curbed it sharply, so that the foam sprang.

“Merlin Emrys . . .” He said it again, this time to himself, so softly that I hardly caught it. Then suddenly he let out a laugh, amused and gay and hard, not like anything I had heard from him before.

“Well, Merlin Emrys, you’ll still have to answer to him for where you’ve been tonight!” He wheeled his horse, flinging over his shoulder to the men: “Bring him along, and see he doesn’t fall off. It seems my brother treasures him.”

The grey horse jumped under the spur, and the troop surged after him. My captors, still holding the brown mare’s bridle, pounded after, with me between them.

The druid’s robe lay trampled and filthy in the dirt, where the troop had ridden over it. I wondered if Belasius would see it and take warning.

Then I forgot him. I still had Ambrosius to face.

*   *   *

Cadal was in my room. I said thankfully: “Well, thank the gods you didn’t come back after me. I was picked up by Uther’s lot, and he’s blazing mad because he knows where I went.”

“I know,” said Cadal grimly, “I saw it.”

“What do you mean?”

“I did ride back for you. I’d made sure you’d had the sense to run for home when you heard that . . . noise, so I went after you. When I saw no sign of you on the way I just thought you must have got a tidy turn of speed out of the mare—the ground was fair smoking under me, I can tell you! Then when—”

“You guessed what was happening? Where Belasius was?”

“Aye.” He turned his head as if to spit on the floor, recollected himself, and made the sign against the evil eye. “Well, when I got back here, and no sign of you, I knew you must’ve gone straight down to see what was going on. High-handed little fool. Might have got yourself killed, meddling with that lot.”

“So might you. But you went back.”