“Do you remember that night near Uxellum when we were pinned against the cliff? We were barely nineteen winters. Your father sent us to patrol in the mountains north of the wall, and the Picti caught us from above.”
“The Picti. They … threw spears down and dropped rocks … and —”
“And we hoisted you up. Ah, you routed ‘em! Sixteen to one, and they ran at your wrath!”
“I remember.” Uther strained to sit up but rose barely a finger’s breadth before collapsing against the Stone.
“You were unstoppable when the battle frenzy came upon you.”
“Brewygh died with a spear … through his skull. Couldn’t let anyone else die. Didn’t want you to die.”
Owain coughed as the chill sank deeper into his flesh. “Uther, do you forgive me for leaving you for Gwevian? I couldn’t stay with you both, and I need you to understand.”
“It’s hard, Owain —”
“I need to hear you say it. I’ve needed it all these years. I’m sorry I failed you and the war band, but the new love that God kindled had to win out. Her father would have murdered her.”
Uther rolled his head to the side and looked at Owain. Blood dripped from the gash above his eye. “We were like brothers, you and I, but … I’ve learned to love now too … Fierce Igerna … faithful Igerna … Never see … my flower again…. Nor my children.” And then quietly, Uther said, “Owain, I forgive you … Sorry it’s ending like this.”
“It’s not over. Don’t say that!”
Uther groaned against his bonds. “I don’t want to die. The Stone … it hurts. A voice is telling me I’ll die … will worship it, yet it burns!”
“Fight it. Don’t give in —”
“Burning my soul …”
“Call on the name of God —”
The pace of the chanting druidow quickened, and the drums boomed louder. The seven torch holders snaked in and out of Owain’s vision.
With a flourish, Mórganthu reappeared, Uther’s sword belted at his side, and his golden knife protruding like a fang from his hand. Speaking in the druidow’ tongue, he circled the Stone like a cat.
Uther’s groaning increased as the Stone’s sickening glow poured like smoke from underneath him. “It burns … it burns!”
“Battle, Uther! To battle!” Owain turned away from the Stone. Even then, like massive tongs it tried to turn his head, and he mounted every ounce of strength to resist.
Mórganthu, his head uplifted and darkness in his eyes, raised his voice. “All! All who have come to serve Belornos and the gods of the druidow! Do you hear me?”
The people shouted back to him.
“This is the night when the moon descends to join us. The night when it slays the Seven Torches. Behold! The time of the otherworld is upon us!” And Mórganthu pointed to the west, where the moon was disappearing below the horizon with a constellation of seven stars beside it.
Merlin was listening to Mórganthu’s ravings when a man sat down to his right on the same rock. Merlin stiffened and turned his head slightly away to keep the man from seeing his scars.
“I’ve been watching you,” the man said.
Merlin swallowed. “Whatever for? Nothing better to do than bother a fellow druid?”
“You’re no druid, and you were with the monk before he was caught.”
Merlin’s left hand went quietly to his dirk.
“Don’t worry, though, I won’t give your secret away.”
Merlin took a breath. “Why?”
“My name’s Caygek, and I’m one of the leaders of the filidow. We don’t support Mórganthu or what he’s doing here. It goes against the laws of the wider order as they’ve been taught for the last hundred years.”
Hope surged in Merlin’s heart. “So you’ll help me?”
“I have men in position around the Stone, and they’re ready to intervene when I give the signal.”
“You’ll free my father … and the High King?”
“If we can.”
“And then the monks.”
“The monks … no. They’ve been judged and are considered criminals, not a sacrifice. The two at the Stone, however …”
This didn’t make sense to Merlin, and he gritted his teeth when he spoke. “You have to help me save them.”
“Why? I’m already risking my neck to try and stop the sacrifice. If my companions and I are alive by this time tomorrow, we’ll