"A grand sight, old friend."
Modred stood silent, fingering his chin. His voice broke forth again with a bluff exultation that seemed to echo the roar of the waves.
"St. Philip, that is well."
"More ships?"
"Nay, sire, they raise the royal banner on the keep of Gambrevault. I see spears shine. Listen to the shouting. The King's men hold the headland."
This time the voice from the cave was less eager, and tinged with pain.
"Modred, old friend, I lie here like a stone while the trumpets call to me."
"Sire, say not so."
"Ah, for an hour's youth again, one day in the sun, one moment under the moon."
"Sire, I would change with you if God would grant it me."