“You’ve done a good job, I see.” Then as I finished drying my hands and dismissed the orderly with a word of thanks, Ambrosius put out his own hand. “And now, welcome. I believe we owe you quite a lot, Merlin. I don’t mean for this; I mean for Doward, and for today as well. At any rate the men think so, and if soldiers decide something is lucky, then it is lucky. Well, I’m glad to see you safe. You have news for me, I believe.”

“Yes.” I said it without expression, because of the men with us, but I saw the smile fade from his eyes. He hesitated, then said quietly: “Gentlemen, give us leave.” They went. He and I faced one another across the body of the unconscious man. Nearby a soldier tossed and moaned, and another cried out and bit the sound back. The place smelt vile, of blood and drying sweat and sickness.

“What is this news?”

“It concerns my mother.”

I think he already knew what I was going to tell him. He spoke slowly, measuring the words, as if each one carried with it some weight that he ought to feel. “The men who rode here with you . . . they brought me news of her. She had been ill, but was recovered, they said, and safely back in Maridunum. Was this not true?”

“It was true when I left Maridunum. If I had known the illness was mortal, I should not have left her.”

“‘Was’ mortal?”

“Yes, my lord.”

He was silent, looking down, but without seeing him, at the wounded man. The latter was beginning to stir; soon he would be back with the pain and the stench and the fear of mortality. I said: “Shall we go out into the air? I’ve finished here. I’ll send someone back to this man.”

“Yes. And you must get your clothes. It’s a cool night.” Then, still without moving: “When did she die?”

“At sunset today.”

He looked up quickly at that, his eyes narrow and intent, then he nodded, accepting it. He turned to go out, gesturing me to walk with him. As we went he asked me: “Do you suppose she knew?”

“I think so, yes.”

“She sent no message?”

“Not directly. She said, ‘When we meet again, it will be soon enough.’ She is a Christian, remember. They believe—”

“I know what they believe.”

Some commotion outside made itself heard, a voice barking a couple of commands, feet tramping. Ambrosius paused, listening. Someone was coming our way, quickly.

“We’ll talk later, Merlin. You have a lot to tell me. But first we must send Hengist’s spirit to join his fathers. Come.”

*   *   *