It was the first dry day after more than two weeks of rain and sleety wind, and I had gone up over the hill above the cave to look for the first growing plants and simples. I paused at the edge of a clump of pines to watch the solitary horseman cantering up the hill. Cadal must have heard the hoofbeats; I saw him, small below me, come out of the cave and greet the man, then I saw his pointing arm indicating which way I had gone. The messenger hardly paused. He turned his beast uphill, struck his spurs in, and came after me.

He pulled up a few paces away, swung stiffly out of the saddle, made the sign, and approached me.

He was a brown-haired young man of about my own age, whose face was vaguely familiar. I thought I must have seen him around Uther’s train somewhere. He was splashed with mud to the eyebrows, and where he was not muddy his face was white with fatigue. He must have got a new horse in Maridunum for the last stage, for the animal was fresh, and restive with it, and I saw the young man wince as it threw its head up and dragged at the reins.

“My lord Merlin. I bring you greetings from the King, in London.”

“I am honoured,” I said formally.

“He requests your presence at the feast of his coronation. He has sent you an escort, my lord. They are in the town, resting their horses.”

“Did you say ‘request’?”

“I should have said ‘commands’, my lord. He told me I must bring you back immediately.”

“This was all the message?”

“He told me nothing more, my lord. Only that you must attend him immediately in London.”

“Then of course I shall come. Tomorrow morning, when you have rested the horses?”

“Today, my lord. Now.”

It was a pity that Uther’s arrogant command was delivered in a slightly apologetic way. I regarded him. “You have come straight to me?”

“Yes, my lord.”

“Without resting?”

“Yes.”

“How long has it taken you?”

“Four days, my lord. This is a fresh horse. I am ready to go back today.” Here the animal jerked its head again, and I saw him wince.

“Are you hurt?”

“Nothing to speak of. I took a fall yesterday and hurt my wrist. It’s my right wrist, not my bridle hand.”

“No, only your dagger hand. Go down to the cave and tell my servant what you have told me, and say he is to give you food and drink. When I come down I shall see to your wrist.”

He hesitated. “My lord, the King was urgent. This is more than an invitation to watch the crowning.”