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taken because it was rumoured that I was the Demon Seed.’
    Uther raised one eyebrow. ‘So I’ve heard – but I doubted the truth of such a boast. I am agog to hear your ancestry from your own mouth,’ the prince added with a white and sardonic grin. ‘I’ve been told the Demon Seed predicted things Vortigern didn’t wish to hear.’
    ‘So the rumour says, Prince Uther, but I’ve no memory of what I said. Vortigern feared to kill me, so he murdered his magicians in my stead. But Fortuna turned her face away from me. My grandmother, who was a Deceangli princess, and the priestess of the Mother, came to save me. Vortigern struck her with his clenched fist, and the blow killed her.’
    ‘So how could you serve the Regicide when your grandmother’s blood called to you from the earth? Were you frightened?’ Uther’s perfect teeth, so unusual in any warrior over thirty, seemed very sharp and lupine. Myrddion wondered if the prince enjoyed the infliction of pain as much as his glistening eyes and moist mouth seemed to suggest.
    ‘I had no choice, for he threatened to kill my mistress, Annwynn of Segontium, who is a famed healer in Cymru. I obeyed, andeventually he told me my father’s name. Not that he was much help, for Flavius is a very common Roman gens. However, I’m now free to seek my father out.’
    Myrddion checked the prince’s bandage carefully and found a small container so that Uther could take a quantity of ointment with him. As he pressed the small horn box into the prince’s hand, he felt a shiver of presentiment course through his blood.
    ‘Take care to keep the wound very clean and dry – and use fresh bandages when you dress it, my lord. Evil humours have a way of creeping into the most carefully tended wounds.’
    ‘I am fated to die peacefully in my bed, healer, for so it has been prophesied. But I thank you none the less for your labours.’
    Uther searched in a leather pouch and retrieved a golden coin, far too much payment for Myrddion’s ministrations, and flicked it towards the healer with a deft and insulting movement of his thumb. Reflexively, Myrddion caught it in his cupped hands and tried to return it.
    ‘That’s far too much gold for such a simple task, my lord,’ he protested.
    ‘Consider it an indicator of payments for services you will provide in the future. When you return from your journey to Constantinople, I would have one of the finest healers in the land as my personal physician.’ Uther laughed as if he had made a good joke, enjoying the flush of embarrassment that stained Myrddion’s cheeks. ‘I will remember you, Myrddion-no-name, and I will not have forgotten our talk on this day when you return from your travels and enter my service.’
    Prudently, Myrddion kept any words of refusal between his teeth and bowed low so that Uther wouldn’t recognise the mutiny in his eyes. Then the prince swept away without a backward glance, accompanied by three warriors who had waited near the raised leather entrance of the tent.
    Cadoc exhaled noisily with relief once the small party had vanished into the night. ‘You can thank all the gods for your skill, master. An arrow was notched and ready for flight throughout your ministrations. Did you not see the archer in the shadows of the wagon?’
    Myrddion shook his head as his knees threatened to collapse under him. ‘I feel as if I’ve just escaped from a pit of angry vipers,’ he muttered as he sank to his haunches by the fireside. ‘Uther Pendragon makes Vortigern seem kindly and generous.’
    ‘That man is a devil, master, a chaos-beast come to tear the land to ribbons for his own benefit. Did you see his eyes? For the first time, I’m glad we’re going to Constantinople, wherever that is. He’ll not find us there, master, and he would if you remained here. He wants your skills.’
    ‘Perhaps battle will claim him while we are absent from Britain. I’ve had my fill of arrogant, powerful masters who ride