Still, she was pregnant enough to begin having second thoughts about the nasty work ahead. I do not think any mother could coldly kill her own child, or stand by and see it done. I am not so sure about Uther… he of the strong arm and wandering eye. Pendragon of Britain. Capable of anything – which was the better half of his power where the small kings were concerned – he was not one to shrink from any course set before him.

Outside on the black rocks the waves crashed and the white gulls cried. Ygerna touched a hand to her stomach – a brushing touch with fingertips – and I knew she would listen to reason. Ygerna would be an ally.

So it did not matter what Uther said or did not say, admitted or did not admit. I would have my way…

My way. Was it? Was it ever my way? There's a thought. Ah, but I am getting ahead of myself. I always am. This is to be Arthur's story. Yes, but there is more to Arthur than his birth. To understand him, you have to understand the land. This land, this Island of the Mighty.

And you have to understand me, for I am the man who made him.

ONE

Many years have come and gone since I awakened in this worlds-realm. Too many years of darkness and death, disease, war, and evil. Yes, very much evil.

But life was bright once, bright as sunrise on the sea and moonglow on water, bright as the fire on the hearth, bright as the red-gold tore around my grandfather Elphin's throat. Bright, I tell you, and full of every good thing.

I know that every man recalls something of the same golden sheen in life's beginning, but my memories are not less real or true for that.