“Yes, his name is Merlin,” said one, “and he was cast upon our shores by the waves of the sea.”
“Not at all!” interrupted another. “He was brought to our village in the night by evil spirits.”
And so it went, but the anxious messengers soon cut short their eloquence.
“If your name is Merlin,” said they to the lad, “and you do not know who your father and mother are, you must come with us. It is the command of the King.”
“I am quite willing,” replied the boy with unexpected meekness.
“Perhaps he would not be so willing,” whispered one under his breath to his companion, “if he knew why he is wanted.”
“I hear what you say,” Merlin broke in, “and what is more, I know what you mean; but just the same, I am willing to go with you to King Vortigern. In fact I struck the boy knowing what he would say and what you would do; so you see I am not afraid.”
On the tenth day after the departure of his couriers, the King sat alone in his audience chamber. Suddenly the great doors were swung wide, and a boy wearing the simple dress of a tiller of the soil appeared before him.
“Your Majesty,” said he, “I am Merlin, the child who never had father or mother. You sent for me because your Wise Men have said that my blood is needed to make your strong tower stand. They have told you an untruth because they know nothing about the tower, and also because they are my enemies. I ask only that you call them together so that I can prove to you that what I say is so.”