Merlin

Uther brooded and stormed through the wet end of winter. And spring brought him no joy. He grew gaunt and ill-tempered – like a dog long chained and denied the comfort of his master's hearth. He snarled at all who approached him and he drank too much, seeking to numb his heart's wound with strong wine – which only increased his misery. A more doleful, disagreeable man would be hard to imagine.

The attack on Gorlas during the previous winter was not forgotten. And with spring opening the land other attacks began taking place in the middle kingdoms and in the west. It was soon learned that Pascent, Vortigern's last living son, was responsible. Inflamed by the notion of avenging the blood debt of his father, he had sought and won the support of one, Guilomar, a minor Irish king ever eager to increase his fortunes through plunder.

Evidently, Gorlas had surprised Pascent on the road as the young man was making good his return to the island. Pascent, waiting with his few followers for Guilomar's war-band, attacked out of fear lest his war be finished before it was begun. Aurelius deemed Pascent no great threat – save that the rebellious lords might find it in their interest to throw in with Vortigern's son. Therefore the High King was anxious that Pascent and Guilomar be dealt with firmly and finally, before anyone else could become involved.

So it was that spring found Aurelius preparing for his wedding and for war. The wedding could wait perhaps, but the war could not. This is where I made the decision which has earned me such scorn and contempt, although at the time it was the only wise course.

In order to help ease Uther's pain at his brother wedding the woman he loved, I suggested to the High King that Uther should lead the warband out to deal with Pascent and Guilomar. Aurelius, much preoccupied with his various works, readily agreed and gave the order, saying, 'Go with him, Merlin, for I worry after him. He has become contrary and keeps to himself. I fear these long months away from sword and saddle weigh too heavily on him.'

And Uther, glad for any excuse to quit Londinium, where life had grown so distasteful to him, became the image of a man afire. After hasty preparations we left the city a few days before Aurelius' and Ygerna's wedding. Uther could not have endured that; nor was he greatly cheered to have me with him.

Although he was too proud to say as much, he blamed me for not taking his part with Ygerna, forgetting that his lady had a father who would in no wise see his daughter married to him. As long as Gorlas lived, Aurelius was the only choice for his daughter.

Men will tell you that the war with Pascent was bloody and brief, and that Uther, in his smouldering rage, swept all before him. I wish it had been like that. Deeply, deeply, I wish it.

In truth, the campaign was a maddening chase across most of the kingdom, for the simple fact that Pascent would not fight. Instead, the coward would strike any undefended holding or settlement farm, plunder the stores and valuables and set fire to the buildings, killing any brave enough to oppose him. In this, he was no better than the worst Saecsen. Worse, in fact, for at least the barbarians do not slaughter their own kinsmen.

But as soon as Uther appeared, Pascent vanished. Oh, the rogue was shrewd, and quite skilful in choosing his targets and evading confrontation. Time and again we glimpsed the black smudge of smoke on the horizon, whipped our horses into a lather in our mad flight… only to find the grain burned, the blood soaking the ground, and Pascent long gone when we arrived.

Spring passed and summer settled full on the land, and still we chased, no nearer to catching Pascent than when we left Londinium.

'Why do you sit there doing nothing?' the Duke demanded of me one evening. We had lost Pascent's trail yet again that day in the hills of Gwynedd, and Uther was in a dangerous mood. 'Why do you refuse to help me?' An empty wineskin lay on the board next to his cup.

'I have never refused you aid, Uther.'

'Then where is this famed sight of yours?' He leapt to his feet and began stalking the tent, beating the air with clenched fists. 'Where are your visions and voices now when we need them?'

'It is not so simple as you think. The fire, the water – they reveal what they will. Like the bard's awen, the sight comes as it comes.'

'Were you a true druid, by the Raven, you would help me!' he cried.

'I am not a druid, nor have ever claimed to be.'

'Bah! Not a druid, not a bard, not a king – not this and not that! Well, what are you, Merlin Ambrosius?'

'I am a man and I will be treated so. If I have been summoned to suffer your insults, you must find someone else to abuse.' I rose to take my leave of him, but he was far from finished.

'I will tell you what you are. You are whatever you want to be – everything and nothing. You come to us, smooth as a serpent on a sunwarmed rock, speaking your subtle words, stealing Aurelius from me… turning him against me.' Uther was shaking now. He had worked himself up to it and gave vent to the fury pent inside him. Blaming me was easier than facing the true source of his misery.

I turned and walked from the tent, but he followed me outside, still shouting. 'I tell you, Merlin, I know you for what you are: schemer, deceiver, manipulater, false friend!' It was his anger speaking and I did not listen. 'Answer me! Why do you refuse to answer me?' He grabbed me roughly by the arm and pulled me round to face him. 'Ha! You are afraid! That is it! I have spoken the truth and you are afraid of me now!' Stinking sweat dripped from him and he swayed on his feet.

Some of the warband standing near turned and gawked at us. 'Uther, have a care,' I snapped. 'You are embarrassing yourself before your men.'

'I am exposing a fool!' he gloated. His grin was grotesque.

'Please, Uther, say no more. The only fool you have exposed is yourself. Go back into your tent and go to sleep.' I made to turn away again, but he held me fast.

'I defy you!' he screamed, his face darkening in drunken rage. 'I defy you to prove yourself before us all. Give me a prophecy!'

I glowered hard at him. Were he and I alone I might have ignored him or found a way to calm him. But not with his men looking on – and not his alone, for, since we were in Gwynedd, Ceredigawn had supplied men, too. Uther had forced the matter too far to abandon; it was a matter of honour to him now. 'Very well, Uther,' I answered, loud enough for all to hear, 'I will do as you demand.' He smiled in stupid triumph.

'I will do it,' I continued, 'but I will not answer for the consequence. For good or ill, the responsibility is yours.'

I said this not because I feared what might happen and wished to evade the consequence, but because I wanted Uther to know that it was not child's play, or a trick to impress the ignorant.

'What do you mean?' he demanded, suspicion flattening his tone.

I answered directly. 'It is not like deciphering scribbles from a book. It is a strange and unsettling thing, fraught with many dangers and uncertainties. I do not control it any more than you control the wind that blows through your hair, or the flames of your fire.'

'If you are trying to warn me off, save your breath.' Some of the men voiced agreement. They did not like to see their lord bested in anything.

'What I do will be done in the sight of all, so that you all may know the truth,' I told them. 'You there,' I pointed to the men close to the fire. 'Stir up the flames, put on more logs! I want live embers, not cold ash.'

This was not strictly necessary, I suppose, but I wanted time to compose myself and allow Uther's temper to cool. In any event, it worked, for Uther shouted, 'Well? You heard him. Do as he says and be quick about it.'