“That’s true. But I can’t tell you how, any more than how I knew what I told Vortigern.”

“The men call you ‘Vortigern’s prophet’. You prophesied victory for us, and we had it, here and at Doward. The men believe you and have faith in you. So have I. Is it not a better title now to be ‘Ambrosius’ prophet’?”

“My lord, you know I would take any title from you that you cared to bestow. But this comes from somewhere else. I cannot call it, but I know that if it matters it will come. And when it comes, be sure I will tell you. You know I am at your service. Now, about Octa and Eosa I know nothing. I can only guess—and guess as a man. They fight still under the White Dragon, do they?”

His eyes narrowed. “Yes.”

“Then what Vortigern’s prophet said must still hold good.”

“I can tell the men this?”

“If they need it. When do you plan to march?”

“In three days.”

“Aiming for where?”

“York.”

I turned up a hand. “Then your guess as a commander is probably as good as my guess as a magician. Will you take me?”

He smiled. “Will you be any use to me?”

“Probably not as a prophet. But do you need an engineer? Or an apprentice doctor? Or even a singer?”

He laughed. “A host in yourself, I know. As long as you don’t turn priest on me, Merlin. I have enough of them.”

“You needn’t be afraid of that.”

The flames were dying down. The officer in charge of the proceedings approached, saluted, and asked if the men might be dismissed. Ambrosius gave him leave, then looked at me. “Come with me to York, then. I shall have work for you there. Real work. They tell me the place is half ruined, and I’ll need someone to help direct the engineers. Tremorinus is at Caerleon. Now, find Caius Valerius and tell him to look after you, and bring you to me in an hour’s time.” He added over his shoulder as he turned away: “And in the meantime if anything should come to you out of the dark like an arrow, you’ll let me know?”

“Unless it really is an arrow.”

He laughed, and went.