“You probably know that it is not far from there that the British dead lie buried, who were slain by Hengist’s treachery. I think it fitting—and I think there is no man who will argue with this—that the monument to my victory, to the making of one kingdom under one King, should also be a memorial for these warriors.” He paused. “And you might say there is yet a third reason, more powerful than the other two.”

I said, not looking at him, but down into the cup of wine, and speaking quietly: “That Amesbury is already the site of the greatest monument in Britain? Possibly the greatest in the whole West?”

“Ah.” It was a syllable of deep satisfaction. “So your mind moves this way, too? You have seen the Giants’ Dance?”

“I rode out to it from Amesbury, when I was on my way home from Winchester.”

He stood up at that and walked back round the table to his chair. He sat, then leaned forward, resting his hands on the table. “Then you know how I am thinking. You saw enough when you lived in Brittany to know what the Dance was once. And you have seen what it is now—a chaos of giant stones in a lonely place where the sun and the winds strike.” He added more slowly, watching me: “I have talked of this to Tremorinus. He says that no power of man could raise those stones.”

I smiled. “So you sent for me to raise them for you?”

“You know they say it was not men who raised them, but magic.”

“Then,” I said, “no doubt they will say the same again.”

His eyes narrowed. “You are telling me you can do it?”

“Why not?”

He was silent, merely waiting. It was a measure of his faith in me that he did not smile.

I said: “Oh, I’ve heard all the tales they tell, the same tales they told in Less Britain of the standing stones. But the stones were put there by men, sir. And what men put there once, men can put there again.”

“Then if I don’t possess a magician, at least I possess a competent engineer?”

“That’s it.”

“How will you do it?”

“As yet, I know less than half of it. But if it was done once, it can be done again.”

“Then will you do this for me, Merlin?”

“Of course. Have I not said I am here only to serve you as best I can? I will rebuild the Giants’ Dance for you, Ambrosius.”

“A strong symbol for Britain.” He spoke broodingly now, frowning down at his hands. “I shall be buried there, Merlin, when my time comes. What Vortigern wanted to do for his stronghold in darkness, I shall do for mine in the light; I shall have the body of her King buried under the stones, the warrior under the threshold of all Britain.”