"Did you so promise?" Arthur demanded. He stood straight and regal. "Answer me, and forget not I am your king."
Merlin's hands made feeble and apologetic gestures.
"What could I do?" he pleaded. "One like him is born seldom. I had searched the centuries, and there was no more time."
He turned to Wilbur and his face betrayed an apprehension that made Wilbur's hopes rise. Arthur did not act like he would stand for any promise-breaking among his subjects.
"Tell you what I could do," Merlin said. "I could put your eye back when I'm through with it. In fact, that's a promise."
"Will that make him brave?" Arthur demanded.
"Well...." Merlin hesitated. Arthur's finger slid suggestively along the blade of his sword.
"I'll look it up," the old man finished hurriedly.
His hand dipped beneath his robe and came out with the ancient book. A long nailed finger ran through the pages. There was a pause, and then Merlin began to mumble.