'Hear me, Arthur: Rome is dying – may even now be dead. We cannot revive it, nor is it right to do so. The old must pass away to make room for the new. That is the way of things. In the Kingdom of Summer, a new order has come to pass. It must not become allied to the old order, or it will surely perish.

'Do not allow the faded glory of the empire to dazzle your eyes, nor the words of men inflame your sense of honour. Be the Emperor of the West, if you like, but establish a new empire here, in Britain. Let the rest of the world look to the Island of the Mighty as once we looked to Rome.

'Be first in compassion! Be first in freedom! But let that freedom and compassion begin here. Let Britain shine like a beacon blaze into the dark corners of the world. Rome is a corpse, Arthur, let the barbarian hosts bury it. Let Roman justice fail; let the justice of God prevail. Let Britain become foremost in doing God's work in the world. Let Britain become the Seat of the New Empire of Light!'

So saying, the Emrys raised his cloak over his head and hooded himself. And he would speak no more.

Three days passed. Arthur kept his counsel to himself and held vigil in his chamber until the matter which so obsessed him could be resolved. In the end, he summoned his lords to council once more and delivered his decision.

'Long have I thought on this and weighed the various arguments in my mind. I have decided that it will be no bad thing to go to Rome, to do what may be done to relieve the suffering of the people there, and to receive the laurel wreath from their hands. When I have set Rome in my hand, I will return to Britain and rule the New Empire from the Island of the Mighty.

Therefore, I order to be assembled the ships of my fleet and the ships of any who would sail with me, so that we may make all haste to Rome and end the barbarian oppression there. For I am persuaded that when injustice is allowed to reign unchecked, then no man is truly free.'

The High King's plan was greeted with wild enthusiasm by the assembly, especially among the younger men. But I noticed that Arthur kept his eyes upon his supporters while he spoke. Never once did he glance at the Emrys.

Immediately after, in his chambers, Bedwyr made bold to challenge die Pendragon to his face. Because they were closer than brothers, Arthur listened. This is insane, Artos. A more crack-brained idea you have never had. Defy me, if you will. But do not defy the Emrys.'

'I am not defying anyone,' maintained Arthur. 'Besides, what is so wrong with wanting to liberate the Mother Church from the persecution of the heathen?'

'Do not speak to me of churches, Bear. We both know why you are going. What if you get yourself killed over there, like Macsen Wledig? '

'It is only one campaign.'

'Is it? In any event, if the Seat of the Empire needs saving let Emperor Lucius save it! Did he offer to help? We will all grow grey-headed waiting for that! He expects you to do all the work. Just you see if you receive so much as a hot meal from him when you are finished. Somehow, I do not see him extending his hands in friendship to you.'

'You are so suspicious, brother,' laughed Arthur.

'And you are so stubborn.'

'We make a fine pair, do we not?'

Bedwyr Would not be appeased with light words. 'Hear me, Artorius! Do not go to Rome.' He folded his arms across his chest. 'I cannot say it more plainly than that.'

The Pendragon remained silent for a long moment. 'Does that mean you will not go with me?"

'Saints and angels!' sighed Bedwyr. 'Of course I will go with you. How else will I prevent you from foolishly getting your head carried off by a barbarian war axe?' Bedwyr paused, and added, 'But that brings to mind another matter: who will hold the realm while you are gone?'

'I have already thought of that,' replied Arthur happily. 'Gwenhwyvar is a reigning queen in her own right. She will rule in my place while I am gone.'

'Very well,' agreed Bedwyr. 'That is the first truly sensible choice you have made today. At least she will not be tempted to rush off saving any failing empires.'

In the end, the Emrys and I, and Gwenhwyvar, along with a small bodyguard of warriors, stayed behind to hold the realm in Arthur's absence. Gwenhwyvar was angry with Arthur for going – mostly because she thought that she should fight by his side, rather than languish alone in Britain. She raged and stormed for a fair time about this but, when the day of leaving dawned, she bore her duty with good grace.

Once in motion, Arthur's preparations gathered speed. By early summer, all was in readiness and the warriors of Britain assembled – like the legionaries three hundred years before – on the banks of the River Uisc to board ships bound for Rome.

We stayed in Caer Legionis for a few days after the ships sailed, then boarded our own ships and sailed up the western coast to the harbour at Caer Lial. I was not sorry to stay behind with the Emrys and the queen. Although I would have liked to have gone to Rome, just to see it, I was the least of Arthur's warriors and could serve him better by remaining behind and looking to his interests in Britain.

The journey to Caer Lial proved pleasant. We stopped at Avallon on the way and stayed a few days with Avallach and Charis, before going on to the city. Another day's sailing brought us safely to the harbour and at last we were returned to the north.

I was surprised to discover how much I had missed it. After the close-crowded city of the south, Caer Lial seemed spacious, the air fresher, the days brighter. I was glad to be at home once more and spent the next few days happily attending to affairs left untended since the winter before. Also, I made plans to ride to Caer Alclyd to visit my mother, whom I had not seen since Emperor Arthur's coronation – and then only for a moment.

The day I had planned to leave, I went to the stables for a mount. While the horse was being saddled, I hurried back to the palace to gather the gifts I was bringing to my family. Then I sought out the Emrys to bid him farewell, and to see if he wished to send any message with me.

It was as I hastened down the long corridor from my chamber to the hall that I heard a cry of alarm. It came from within the palace.

I raced to the hall, scattering all my bundles as I burst into the room and found myself face to face with Medraut.

EIGHT

Four warriors lay dead in pooled blood on the floor. The room was filled with Picti waving swords and clubs and spears. I was the only Briton alive to defend the queen and I was unarmed. Medraut's sword bit into my throat.

'What treachery is this?' I demanded.

'We have come to pay homage to the Emperor,' replied Medraut with a sneer. 'Imagine our disappointment when we discovered that he is not here to receive us.'

Two Picts thrust spears at me from either side. I know they would have killed me in that selfsame instant if Medraut had not prevented them. 'Cadw! Ymat!' he shouted in their coarse tongue. Then, to another swarthy Pict who looked to be a king, he said, 'This one is more valuable to us alive. Have him bound and put with the others.'

My wrists and knees were bound with thick leather thongs and I was dragged through the palace and hauled into the yard. There were signs of the briefest and most futile of struggles: here and there a cluster of dead bodies, some armed, most without weapons; men cut down where they stood.

No organized resistance had been possible. We were overcome before we could raise spear or draw sword. And those of us still alive were becoming Medraut's hostages. The humiliation was worse than death.

Shock and outrage coiled within me, twin serpents of revulsion. The evil of it! Vile disgrace! Vicious and wicked, Medraut had perpetrated the unthinkable.