The blood was running from my mouth again. I put up my sleeve to wipe it away. He saw, but his face never changed. I doubt if he had even listened to what I said, or if he could have heard me for the thunder of the sea. He said merely, with that same indifference that stood like a wall between us:

“These are only words. You use even God to gain your ends. ‘It is God who tells me to do these things, it is God who exacts the price, it is God who sees that others should pay . . .’ For what, Merlin? For your ambition? For the great prophet and magician of whom men speak with bated breath and give more worship than they would a king or his high priest? And who is it pays this debt to God for carrying out your plans? Not you. The men who play your game for you, and pay the price. Ambrosius, Vortigern. Gorlois. These other men here tonight. But you pay nothing. Never you.”

A wave crashed beside us and the spume showered the ledge, raining down on Cadal’s upturned face. I leaned over and wiped it away, with some of the blood. “No,” I said.

Uther said, above me: “I tell you, Merlin, you shall not use me. I’ll no longer be a puppet for you to pull the strings. So keep away from me. And I’ll tell you this also. I’ll not acknowledge the bastard I begot tonight.”

It was a king speaking, unanswerable. A still, cold figure, with behind his shoulder the star hanging clear in the grey. I said nothing.

“You hear me?”

“Yes.”

He shifted the cloak from his arm, and flung it to Ulfin, who held it for him to put on. He settled it to his shoulders, then looked down at me again. “For what service you have rendered, you shall keep the land I gave you. Get back, then, to your Welsh mountains, and trouble me no more.”

I said wearily: “I shall not trouble you again, Uther. You will not need me again.”

He was silent for a moment. Then he said abruptly: “Ulfin will help you carry the body down.”

I turned away. “There is no need. Leave me now.”

A pause, filled with the thunder of the sea. I had not meant to speak so, but I was past caring, or even knowing, what I said. I only wanted him gone. His sword-point was level with my eyes. I saw it shift and shimmer, and thought for a moment that he was angry enough to use it. Then it flashed up and was rammed home in its housings. He swung round and went on his way down the path. Ulfin edged quietly past without a word, and followed his master. Before they had reached the next corner the sea had obliterated the sound of their footsteps.

I turned to find Cadal watching me.

“Cadal!”