“I’m no Fionn,” I said. “And now if you are wise, poet, you will go back to your home and your harp, and make no more wars, but make a song about the stone, and how Merlin the enchanter took the stone from the Dance of Killare and carried it lightly to the Dance of the Hanging Stones at Amesbury.”

He saluted me, laughing still, and went. And indeed he did walk safely down through the camp and away, for in later years I heard the song he made.

But now his going was hardly noticed. There was a pause while Uther frowned down at the great stone, seeming to weigh it in his mind. “You told the King that you could do this thing. Is that true?”

“I said to the King that what men had brought here, men could take away.”

He looked at me frowningly, uncertainly, still a little angry. “He told me what you said. I agree. It doesn’t need magic and fine words, only a team of competent men with the right engines. Tremorinus!”

“Sir?”

“If we take this one, the king-stone, there will be no need to trouble overmuch with the rest. Throw them down where you can and leave them.”

“Yes, sir. If I could have Merlin—”

“Merlin’s team will be working on the fortifications. Merlin, get started, will you? I give you twenty-four hours.”

*   *   *

This was something the men were practised at; they threw down the walls and filled in the ditches with them. The palisades and houses, quite simply, we put to the flame. The men worked well, and were in good heart. Uther was always generous to his troops, and there had been goods in plenty to be looted, arm-rings of copper and bronze and gold, brooches, and weapons well made and inlaid with copper and enamel, in a way the Irish have. The work was finished by dusk, and we withdrew from the hill to the temporary camp which had been thrown up on the plain at the foot of the slope.

It was after supper when Tremorinus came to me. I could see the torches and the fires still lit at the top of the hill, throwing what was left of the Dance into relief. His face was grimy, and he looked tired.

“All day,” he said bitterly, “and we’ve raised it a couple of feet, and half an hour ago the props cracked, and it’s gone back again into its bed. Why the hell did you have to suggest that stone? The Irishman’s altar would have been easier.”

“The Irishman’s altar would not have done.”

“Well, by the gods, it looks as if you aren’t going to get this one either. Look, Merlin, I don’t care what he says, I’m in charge of this job, and I’m asking you to come and take a look. Will you?”