“Forgive me.” He spoke quietly, equal to equal. “I spoke without thought. For so long a time I have been used to the idea that I had no son.”

I looked up. “It’s still the truth, in the sense you mean. And it’s certainly the truth as Uther will see it.”

“Then if you see it the same way, my path is the smoother.”

I laughed. “I don’t see myself as a king. Half a king, perhaps, or more likely a quarter—the little bit that sees and thinks, but can’t do. Perhaps Uther and I between us might make one, if you go? He’s larger than life already, wouldn’t you say?”

But he didn’t smile. His eyes had narrowed, with an arrested look. “This is how I have been thinking, or something like it. Did you guess?”

“No sir, how could I?” I sat up straight as it broke on me: “Is this how you thought you might use me? Of course I realise now why you kept me here, in your house, and treated me so royally, but I’ve wanted to believe you had plans for me—that I could be of use to you. Belasius told me you used every man according to his capacity, and that even if I were no use as a soldier, you would still use me somehow. This is true?”

“Quite true. I knew it straight away, before I even thought you might be my son, when I saw how you paced Uther that night in the field, with the visions still in your eyes, and the power all over you like a shining skin. No, Merlin, you will never make a king, or even a prince as the world sees it, but when you are grown I believe you will be such a man that, if a king had you beside him, he could rule the world. Now do you begin to understand why I sent you to Belasius?”

“He is a very learned man,” I said cautiously.

“He is a corrupt man and a dangerous,” said Ambrosius directly, “but he is a sophisticated and clever man who has travelled a good deal and who has skills you will not have had the chance to master in Wales. Learn from him. I don’t say follow him, because there are places where you must not follow him, but learn all you can.”

I looked up, and nodded. “You know about him.” It was a conclusion, not a question.

“I know he is a priest of the old religion. Yes.”

“You don’t mind this?”

“I cannot yet afford to throw aside valuable tools because I don’t like their design,” he said. “He is useful, so I use him. You will do the same, if you are wise.”

“He wants to take me to the next meeting.”

He raised his brows but said nothing.

“Will you forbid this?” I asked.