“About this.” He lifted a sheaf of drawings—not mine—and handed them across. They were not of the camp, or indeed of any buildings I had seen. There was a church, a great hall, a tower. I studied them for a few minutes in silence. For some reason I felt tired, as if my heart were too heavy for me. The lamp smoked and dimmed and sent shadows dancing over the papers. I pulled myself together, and looked up at my father. “I see. You must be talking about the memorial building?”

He smiled. “I’m Roman enough to want a visible monument.”

I tapped the drawings. “And British enough to want it British? Yes, I heard that, too.”

“What did Tremorinus tell you?”

“That it was thought some kind of monument to your victories should be erected, and to commemorate your kingship of a united kingdom. I agreed with Tremorinus that to build a triumphal arch here in Britain would be absurd. He did say that some churchmen wanted a big church built—the bishop of Caerleon, for instance, wanted one here. But surely, sir, this would hardly do? If you build at Caerleon you’ll have London and Winchester, not to mention York, thinking it should have been there. Of them all, I suppose, Winchester would be the best. It is your capital.”

“No. I’ve had a thought about this myself. When I travelled up from Winchester, I came through Amesbury . . .” He leaned forward suddenly. “What’s the matter, Merlin? Are you ill?”

“No. It’s a hot night, that’s all. A storm coming, I think. Go on. You came through Amesbury.”

“You knew it was my birthplace? Well, it seemed to me that to put my monument in such a place could give no cause for complaint—and there is another reason why it’s a good choice.” He knitted his brows. “You’re like a sheet, boy. Are you sure you’re all right?”

“Perfectly. Perhaps a little tired.”

“Have you supped? It was thoughtless of me not to ask.”

“I ate on the way, thank you. I have had all I needed. Perhaps—some more wine—”

I half rose, but before I could get to my feet he was on his, and came round the table with the jug and served me himself. While I drank he stayed where he was, near me, sitting back against the table’s edge. I was reminded sharply of how he had stood this way that night in Brittany when I discovered him. I remember that I held it in my mind, and in a short while was able to smile at him.

“I am quite well, sir, indeed I am. Please go on. You were giving me the second reason for putting your monument at Amesbury.”