“Nor of my son’s, my lord,” she said calmly. “Merlin left Maridunum on the night of my father’s death, and from that day until now I have heard nothing from him. But one thing is certain, he had no part in the rebellion; why, he was only a child when he left his home—and indeed, now that I know he fled south that night, to Cornwall, I can only assume he went from very fear of my brother Camlach, who was no friend to him. I assure you, my lord King, that whatever I myself may have guessed of my brother’s intentions towards you, my son knew nothing of them. I am at a loss to know why you should want him here.”

To my surprise Vortigern did not even seem interested in my sojourn in Cornwall, nor did he look at me again. He rested his chin on his fist and watched my mother from under his brows. His voice and look were alike grave and courteous, but there was something in the air that I did not like. Suddenly I realised what it was. Even while my mother and the King talked, watching one another, the priests behind the King’s chair watched me. And when I stole a glance out of the corners of my eyes at the people in the hall I found that here, too, there were eyes on me. There was a stillness in the room now, and I thought, suddenly: Now he will come to it.

He said quietly, almost reflectively: “You never married.”

“No.” Her lids drooped, and I knew she had become suddenly wary.

“Your son’s father, then, died before you could be wed? Killed in battle, perhaps?”

“No, my lord.” Her voice was quiet, but perfectly clear. I saw her hands move and tighten a little.

“Then he still lives?”

She said nothing, but bowed her head, so that her hood fell forward and hid her face from the other people in the hall. But those on the dais could still see her. I saw the Queen staring with curiosity and contempt. She had light blue eyes, and big breasts which bulged milk-white above a tight blue bodice. Her mouth was small. Her hands were as white as her breasts, but the fingers thick and ugly, like a servant’s. They were covered with rings of gold and enamel and copper.

The King’s brows drew together at my mother’s silence, but his voice was still pleasant. “Tell me one thing, Lady Niniane. Did you ever tell your son the name of his father?”