back to his bench and sat down. “If you entered my service, young Merlin, what would you do? How could you serve me? You cannot —”
“Fight?” Merlin answered. “No, I cannot. But I am strong and can do tasks that many hands are unwilling to do. I can garden. I can haul wood and work a bellows. I can hoe out dung. I can —”
Colvarth stepped forward, and Owain’s heart swelled with hope. The bard straightened as far as he was able, raised his thin hand, and in his slow, halting manner said, “Nay, son born of the wild-water … you are not fit for such tasks! You shall be a … bard. Wisdom shall grace your speech, and angels … dance upon your harp. Though now you see not, Merlin, yet in the darkness you shall … light the path of Jesu for all the kings of the world. And though humble, yet in God’s strength you shall … uphold your people!”
As if struck, Uther looked at his chief adviser. “What are you saying?”
“A prophecy, my king,” the bard said.
“Can you be sure of this?”
Sticking his bristly white beard out, Colvarth took one of his long fingers and tapped Uther on the chest. “So has the … voice of the Most High spoken. Do not doubt, my king. Though the young man is … beyond the usual age, yet I will teach him.”
At that moment the druidow made their appearance.
Preoccupied with the discussion, Owain hadn’t heard their approach. They marched four abreast onto the green until all one hundred or so stood around the Druid Stone. They turned to face Uther and the assembly.
Owain looked for Mônda among them but did not see her. He had to find her soon to make sure that she was being cared for properly, even if it meant visiting the camp of the druidow. Though it seemed a futile effort, he had to try once more to persuade her to forsake her pagan ways and follow Jesu.
Mórganthu stood serenely at the front of the gathering wearing a green linen robe with a leather belt. Around his neck hung a large silver amulet shaped like a crescent moon lying with the horns pointing upward. Close by stood a half circle of seven druidow, including Anviv, and their robes were similar to Mórganthu’s.
Uther’s eyes opened wide, and he asked Colvarth, “My bard, what of this? Vortigern mentioned they were here with some rock, but so many? Do you know these?”
Colvarth stared at the druidow, his eyes neither moving nor blinking.
“Colvarth,” Uther said, shaking the old man gently. “Do you hear me?”
“Yes,” he said.
“Speak, man!”
“Ah, my king. I see the sickle … and it is sharpened for a harvest of woe!”
“But do you know them?”
“In your father’s time, before he … claimed the Christ, I helped lead and dwelt among these druidow. Though I am not familiar with all, yet I know … Mórganthu, their leader, for his thirst for power and devotion to the … old gods is unsurpassed.”
“So he is the one you’ve told me about. What am I to make of this?” Uther asked.
“It is a challenge. The people … have them give fealty to you and your heir. Do it now before Mórganthu speaks and … tries to draw their hearts to himself. It is his way.”
Uther hesitated but finally went to his wife and spoke to her. She called for her eldest daughter, Eilyne, who brought the young Arthur.
The High King stood upon the bench above the people and called to them, arms outstretched in welcome. “Citizens and Britons! Hear your High King. I have come to visit you, not only to have your fortifications inspected, which aids in your protection” — the people turned and murmured assent — “but also to receive your fealty.”
Dwarfed by the large frame of Uther, the bard spoke next. “Each of you, come forward and kiss the leather of the High King’s boot … and the boot of his son. And so receive his protection.”
The crowd mumbled and looked to one another. A few of them shrugged their shoulders and stepped forward. Until Mórganthu raised his voice.
“People … my people! Do not give fealty to the High King. He neither honors your gods nor worships them. All who call on his foreign god will be cursed.” Mórganthu struck the Stone with his staff, and from deep inside the blue light gleamed.
Most of the villagers turned and walked toward Mórganthu, their arms stiff and their heads