“No. It’s what I want more than anything in the world. But study means more if one has seen just a little of the world—indeed, sir, it does. If you would allow me to go with you—”

“I’m going to Segontium, did they tell you that? It’s not a feast-day hunting-party, it’s a long ride and a hard one, and no quarter given for poor riders.”

It was like lifting a heavy weight, to keep my eyes level on that fierce blue glare. “I’ve been practising, sir, and I’ve a good pony now.”

“Ha, yes, Dinias’ breakdown. Well, that’s about your measure. No, Merlin, I don’t take children.”

“Then you’re leaving Dinias behind?”

I heard my mother gasp, and my grandfather’s head, already turned away, jerked back to me. I saw his fists clench on the chair arm, but he did not hit me. “Dinias is a man.”

“Then do Mael and Duach go with you, sir?” They were his two pages, younger than myself, and went everywhere with him.

My mother began to speak, in a breathless rush, but my grandfather moved a hand to stop her. There was an arrested look in the fierce eyes under the scowling brows. “Mael and Duach are some use to me. What use are you?”

I looked at him. “Till now, of very little. But have they not told you that I speak Saxon as well as Welsh, and can read Greek, and that my Latin is better than yours?”

“Merlin—” began my mother, but I ignored her.

“I would have added Breton and Cornish, but I doubt if you will have much use for these at Segontium.”

“And can you give me one good reason,” said my grandfather drily, “why I should speak to King Vortigern in any other language but Welsh, seeing that he comes from Guent?”

I knew from his tone that I had won. Letting my gaze fall from his was like retreating with relief from the battlefield. I drew a breath, and said, very meekly: “No, sir.”

He gave his great bark of laughter, and thrust out a foot to roll one of the dogs over. “Well, perhaps there’s a bit of the family in you after all, in spite of your looks. At least you’ve got the guts to beard the old dog in his den when it suits you. All right, you can come. Who attends you?”

“Cerdic.”

“The Saxon? Tell him to get your gear ready. We leave at first light. Well, what are you waiting for?”

“To say good night to my mother.” I rose from my stool and went to kiss her. I did not often do this, and she looked surprised.

Behind me, my grandfather said abruptly: “You’re not going to war. You’ll be back inside three weeks. Get out.”

“Yes, sir. Thank you. Good night.”

Outside the door I stood still for a full half minute, leaning against the wall, while my blood-beat steadied slowly, and the sickness cleared from my throat. The gods only go with you if you put yourself in their path and that takes courage.