“That’s a king for you.” His voice was a whisper, but it was his own, rough and amused. “Give him something he swears he’s dying for, and then, ‘Do you think I can withstand this night’s work?’ says he. A fine old night’s work he’s put in, for sure, and looks it.”

“Cadal—”

“You, too. You’re hurt . . . your hand? Blood on your face?”

“It’s nothing. Nothing that won’t mend. Never mind that. But you—you—”

He moved his head slightly. “It’s no use. Let be. I’m comfortable enough.”

“No pain now?”

“No. It’s cold, though.” I moved closer to him, trying to shield his body with my own from the bursting spray as the waves struck the rock. I took his hand in my own good one. I could not chafe it, but pulled my tunic open and held it there against my breast. “I’m afraid I lost my cloak,” I said. “Jordan’s dead, then?”

“Yes.” He waited for a moment. “What—happened up yonder?”

“It all went as we had planned. But Gorlois attacked out of Dimilioc and got himself killed. That’s why Brithael and Jordan rode this way, to tell the Duchess.”

“I heard them coming. I knew they’d be bound to see me and the horses. I had to stop them giving the alarm while the King was still . . .” He paused for breath.

“Don’t trouble,” I said. “It’s done with, and all’s well.”

He took no notice. His voice was the merest whisper now, but clear and thin, and I heard every word through the raging of the sea.

“So I mounted and rode up a bit of the way to meet them . . . the other side of the water . . . then when they came level I jumped the stream and tried to stop them.” He waited for a moment. “But Brithael . . . that’s a fighter, now. Quick as a snake. Never hesitated. Sword straight into me and then rode over me. Left me for Jordan to finish.”

“His mistake.”

His cheek-muscles moved slightly. It was a smile. After a while he asked: “Did he see the horses after all?”

“No. Ralf was at the gate when he came, and Brithael just asked if anyone had been up to the castle, because he’d met a horseman below. When Ralf said no he accepted it. We let him in, and then killed him.”

“Uther.” It was an assumption, not a question. His eyes were closed.

“No. Uther was still with the Duchess. I couldn’t risk Brithael taking him unarmed. He would have killed her, too.”

The eyes flared open, momentarily clear and startled. “You?”

“Come, Cadal, you hardly flatter me.” I gave him a grin. “Though I’d have done you no credit, I’m afraid. It was a very dirty fight. The King wouldn’t even know the rules. I invented them as I went along.”