“It is something that every old wife swears she can do. And you—you have power beyond any man living. You lifted the Hanging Stones. You lifted the king-stone where Tremorinus could not.”

“My mathematics are better, that is all. For God’s sake, Uther, whatever men say of that, you know how it was done. That was no magic.”

“You spoke with my brother as he died. Are you going to deny that now?”

“No.”

“Or that you swore to serve me when I needed you?”

“No.”

“I need you now. Your power, whatever it is. Dare you tell me that you are not a magician?”

“I am not the kind that can walk through walls,” I said, “and bring bodies through locked doors.” He made a sudden movement, and I saw the feverish brightness of his eyes, not this time with anger, but I thought with pain. I added: “But I have not refused to help you.”

The eyes sparked. “You will help me?”

“Yes, I will help you. I told you when last we met that there would come a time when we must deal together. This is the time. I don’t know yet what I must do, but this will be shown to me, and the outcome is with the god. But one thing I can do for you, tonight. I can make you sleep. No, be still and listen . . . If you are to be crowned tomorrow, and take Britain into your hands, tonight you will do as I say. I will make you a drink that will let you sleep, and you’ll take a girl to your bed as usual. It may be better if there is someone besides your servant who will swear you were in your own chamber.”

“Why? What are you going to do?” His voice was strained.

“I shall try to talk with Ygraine.”

He sat forward, his hand tight on the arms of the chair. “Yes. Talk to her. Perhaps you can come to her where I cannot. Tell her—”

“A moment. A little while back you told me to ‘make her love you’. You want me to invoke any power there is to bring her to you. If you have never spoken to her of your love, or seen her except in public, how do you know she would come to you, even if the way were free? Is her mind clear to you, my lord King?”

“No. She says nothing. She smiles, with her eyes on the ground, and says nothing. But I know. I know. It is as if all the other times I played at love were only single notes. Put together, they make the song. She is the song.”