“A whistle for the winds. Yes. Come down to the brazier.”

When I sat in my old place, with a cup of mulled wine in my hands, he asked: “Where were you?”

I told him what I had seen, but when I began to ask what it meant, and what he knew, he shook his head. “I think this has already gone past me. I do not know. All I know is that you must finish that wine quickly and go home. Do you realise how long you lay there dreaming? The moon is up.”

I started to my feet. “Already? It must be well past supper-time. If they’re looking for me—”

“They will not be looking for you. Other things are happening. Go and find out for yourself—and make sure you are part of them.”

“What do you mean?”

“Only what I say. Whatever means you have to use, go with the King. Here, don’t forget this.” He thrust my jerkin into my arms.

I took it blindly, staring. “He’s leaving Maridunum?”

“Yes. Only for a while. I don’t know how long.”

“He’ll never take me.”

“That’s for you to say. The gods only go with you, Myrddin Emrys, if you put yourself in their path. And that takes courage. Put your jerkin on before you go out, it’s cold.”

I shoved a hand into the sleeve, glowering. “You’ve seen all this, something that’s really happening, and I—I was looking into the crystals with the fire, and here I’ve got a hellish headache, and all for nothing. . . . Some silly dream of slaves in an old mine. Galapas, when will you teach me to see as you do?”

“For a start, I can see the wolves eating you and Aster, if you don’t hurry home.”

He was laughing to himself as if he had made a great jest, as I ran out of the cave and down to saddle the pony.

CHAPTER EIGHT

IT was a quarter moon, which gave just enough light to show the way. The pony danced to warm his blood, and pulled harder than ever, his ears pricked towards home, scenting his supper. I had to fight to hold him in, because the way was icy, and I was afraid of a fall, but I confess that—with Galapas’ last remark echoing uncomfortably in my head—I let him go downhill through the trees a good deal too fast for safety, until we reached the mill and the level of the towpath.

There it was possible to see clearly. I dug my heels in and galloped him the rest of the way.

As soon as we came in sight of town I could see that something was up. The towpath was deserted—the town gates would have been locked long since—but the town was full of lights. Inside the walls torches seemed to be flaring everywhere, and there was shouting and the tramp of feet. I slipped from the saddle at the stableyard gate, fully prepared to find myself locked out, but even as I reached to try it the gate opened, and Cerdic, with a shaded lantern in his hand, beckoned me in.