“Merlin—”
"The man has the gift of prophecy and can speak with tongues. Send for him, my lord; he is a child of the Church, though a mage."
Uther warmed himself before the fire of cedar wood, his face motionless in contemplative calm. Presently he turned, and looked deep into Dubricius’s vigil-hollowed eyes as though to read the thoughts therein.
“Merlin, the black-haired man who told Vortigern of the future!”
“He spoke the truth, my lord.”
“Sad truth for Vortigern.”
“Yet who should fear the truth?”
“Dubricius, to hear of death!”
“Death, my lord?”
“Remember Vortigern.”