For all of those reasons, to safeguard the boy's life against men of overpowering ambition who have already sought his death, I removed him some time ago from Camulod to our present location, high on the north-western coast of Britain, in the mountainous region known locally as Cumbria, close by the western extremity of the great wall built by the Emperor Hadrian to defend his Province of Britain against invasion by the Picti, the Painted People of the Caledonian territories to the north.
When first we came to this place, I thought and sought to disappear from the sight of men. I left our refuge here in the town called Ravenglass, openly, and took ship for Eire, accompanied by young Arthur. None but my own people and a few trusted friends knew that the captain of the ship, Connor Mac Athol, was brother to young Arthur's dead mother. He dropped us back ashore again mere miles north of the harbour at Ravenglass, where friends awaited us with horses. From there we journeyed back overland, in secret, until we had regained our mountain fastness miles behind the town. Thereafter, I altered the colour of my hair, grew a full, Celtic beard and changed my name from Caius Merlyn Britannicus to plain Master Cay, a simple farmer. Another member of our group, Hector, a former Councillor of Camulod and an able man, then assumed the titular control of our new home. Thus we have remained.
Mere days ago, however, another layer was added to this open deception. My brother Ambrose, whom you know to resemble me as closely as one robin's egg does another, sailed into Ravenglass, once more aboard Connor's ship, pretending to be me. All believed him to be Merlyn of Camulod. I stood with him, and thanks to my altered hair and physical appearance, none remarked how similar we look.
Ambrose has assumed full command of our forces in Camulod and complete responsibility for the administration of the Colony's affairs. I encountered him for the first time, you will recall, on the occasion of the great debate which brought you and me together in Verulamium. Shortly thereafter he changed his place and style of living, moving from his erstwhile home in Lindum, where he served as a captain to Vortigern, to live with us in Camulod. He is visiting with us now, soon to return to Camulod, carrying this letter with him. He will convey it to one of the itinerant bishops who pass through the Colony, whence it will make its way to you.
In the interim, everyone who has seen him will know that Merlyn of Camulod came here for several days this spring, then sailed off once again aboard an Erse galley before the month had passed. They will also know, and will report to any who inquire, that he came and went again unaccompanied by any stripling boy.
None who seek the boy with Merlyn would think to look for him in the company of a plain hill farmer such as I have become. He will remain safe, therefore, for the foreseeable future, and my hopes are high that we may continue to pursue his education uninterrupted.
In fact, that education, and in particular the scope of it, is the matter that has been troubling me. It is for this reason that I seek your assistance and guidance now.
I take great pride and ever-growing pleasure in the attributes and accomplishments of my young ward. I firmly believe that he will one day confront a destiny beyond that vouchsafed other boys and men. My mind and my very soul are filled with excitement over his remarkable progress. Mere hours ago, he demonstrated to me again his phenomenal abilities, his mental prowess. This has renewed my determination to instruct him properly and as fully as my own powers will permit, to equip him for whatever tasks lie ahead of him. He has already learned much of what he will need to know, and the process of teaching him continues, shared among myself and my good friends here.
In brief, his grounding in philosophy, logic, rhetoric and polemic has been thorough and painstaking, and the same criteria have governed his teaching in mathematical, engineering and military matters. Discipline, tactics and strategy are real to him now, far removed from mere theory and abstractions.
Despite our successes in all of these endeavours, however, I have strong doubts concerning my own capacity to teach him in one particular area. For this boy to become the man I am convinced he will be required to be, I believe that he must have careful and enlightened tuition in the essentials of Christianity—not merely in its basic tenets. He already possesses and practises those basics. He must acquire a fundamentally solid Christian outlook upon life in all respects. Such learning involves an appreciation of Christian philosophy and morality that I am ill equipped to teach. I remain what I have always been: something of a doubter when it comes to other men's interpretations of the Will of God. Arthur needs more depth and far more enlightenment in such things than I can offer him, and no one else among our number can supply that lack. The strength of Ambrose's beliefs and dedication would make him a wondrous teacher, but his place is in Camulod.
I am convinced that the boy would benefit from anything you could recommend to us to aid in this instruction—text, letter, treatise or philosophical dissertation. If you could send such material to his attention, I would gladly undertake to study it · myself, with the intention of providing him with a sympathetic and partially understanding ear into which he can pour his reflections. I see such a focus as crucial to his development.
Soon I must return with him into the world. When that time comes, he must be sufficiently well informed to recognize that world for what it is. He must be able to discern, as a Christian warrior, that goodness, strength and order exist to counteract evil, weaknesses and chaos even in our small world of Britain.
I appreciate whatever consideration you can give this matter. I also trust this finds you in good health and that the duties of your calling leave you leisure, from time to time, to ride abroad. I await your response with pleasure and anticipation.
Merlyn Britannicus
ELEVEN
On the day before Ambrose and Ludmilla were to leave, the dawn brought a chilling onslaught of fiercely malevolent sleet, with more snow than rain in the mixture, and high, erratic, gusting winds of such ferocity that the worst of them brought trees and limbs crashing down throughout the morning, endangering the men working in the forest. Hector called a halt to all work, concerned that someone might be injured by a falling branch, and thereafter everyone spent the entire afternoon and evening indoors, attending to all the neglected little chores that could be disposed of without going outside.
Of all places in the fort, the bathhouse was the warmest and most welcoming, and most of us made our way there eventually that day, so that by mid-afternoon it was crowded, resounding with the high, excited voices of the children, who were not normally permitted to share the place with adults, but on this occasion were accorded the rare privilege of playing in the tepid pool, the largest of all the pools.
By the time I made my way into the sudarium, bypassing the most crowded area of the baths, I found that almost every man in the fort had had the same thought as me and had contrived to arrive before me, so that I had to wait until they made sufficient room for me to squeeze myself into a narrow space that verged on being Uncomfortably close to the main steam vent from the hypocausts. I looked around me in the gloom and recognized most of my companions as their faces drifted into view and away again, obscured by the banks of swirling, steamy vapour.
Lucanus I had seen immediately on entering, and I guessed that he had been there longest. He sat with his eyes closed and his head tilted back against the wall, the sweat pouring from him, streaming down his face and body, and his now-sparse hair was plastered to his skull. He was flanked to the right by Hector, who smiled and nodded to me, and to the left by Dedalus, who sat hunched forward, dripping sweat onto the floor from his chin and the point of his nose. Elsewhere I saw Rufio, Mark and Ambrose, and then someone broke wind richly in the far corner and earned himself a torrent of abuse from those around him. Those closest to him moved away, setting up enough eddies in the steam to obscure all hope of recognizing anyone. Revelling in the heat, and feeling my skin begin to prickle comfortably with the beginnings of a sweat, I slumped backward between the men on either side of me, the brothers Lars and Joseph, feeling the tiled coolness of the wall against my shoulders and allowing myself to relax as I sucked the hot, moist air deep into my lungs.