Last Sword Of Power by David Gemmell

King's face.
    'We British do not make good subjects,' said Prasamaccus swiftly. 'It is the land, Ursus. All the tribes revere their own kings, their own war leaders and holy men. The Romans destroyed most of the Druids, but now the sect is back and they do not accept Roman authority.'
    'But Britannia is no longer ruled by Rome,' said the prince. 'I do not understand.'
    To the tribes, Uther is a Roman. They care nothing that Rome is gone.'
    'I am the High King,' said Uther, 'by right and by conquest. The tribes accept that but the Druids do not. Neither do the Saxons, the Jutes, the Angles or the Goths, and only in recent years have the Sicambrians become friends.'
    'You suffer no shortage of enemies, Lord Uther. Long may you have strong friends! How will you deal with the problem of the Druids?'
    'The way the Romans did, my boy. I crucify them where I find them.' 'Why not gather your own?' 'I would as soon take a viper to my bed.' 'What do they want, after all, but that which all men want - power, riches, soft women? There must be some amongst them who can be bought. It would at least sow dissension amongst your enemies.' 'You've a sharp mind, young Ursus.' 'And an enquiring one, sire. How was it you knew the attack would come here?'
    'The land knew, and I am the land,' answered Uther, smiling.
    Ursus pushed the question no further.
    Cormac ran until his legs burned and his lungs heaved, but he knew he could not outrun the horsemen following on the narrow trail, nor outfight those who had cut across the stream to his left and were now moving to outflank him. He struggled to reach the high ground, where at least he felt he would be able to kill one, perhaps two, of the hunters. He prayed one of them might be Agwaine.
    He tried to leap a rounded boulder in the trail, but his tired legs struck the stone - spilling him to the grass, his sword spinning from his fingers. He scrambled forward to retrieve it ... just as a hand circled the hilt.
    'An interesting blade,' said a tall, hooded man and Cormac dragged his knife clear and prepared to attack. But the stranger reversed the sword, offering the hilt to the startled boy. 'Come, follow me.'
    The hooded man ducked into the undergrowth, pushing aside a thick bush to reveal a shallow cave. Cormac scrambled inside, and the man pulled the bush across the opening. Less than a minute later the Saxon hunters swept past the hiding-place. The stranger threw back his hood and ran his hands through the thick black and silver hair which flowed to his broad shoulders. His grey eyes were deep-set and his beard swept out from his face like a lion's mane. He grinned.
    'I'd say you were outnumbered, young man.'
    'Why did you help me?'
    'Are you not one of God's creatures?'
    'You are a holy man?'
    'I understand the Mysteries. What are you called?'
    'Cormac. And you?'
    'I am Revelation. Are you hungry?'
    "They will return. I must go.'
    'I took you for a bright lad, a boy with wit. If you leave here now, what will happen?'
    'I am not a fool, Master Revelation. But what will happen will still happen an hour from now, or a day. I cannot cross the entire South Saxon without being seen. And I do not want you to be slain with me. Thank you for your kindness.'
    'As you will, but eat! It is the first rule of the soldier.'
    Cormac settled his back against the wall and accepted the bread and cheese he was offered. The food was welcome, as was the cool water from the man's leather-covered canteen.
    'How is it that you, a Saxon, have such a sword?'
    'It is mine.'
    'I am not disputing its ownership. I asked how you came by it.'
    'It was my father's.'
    'I see. Obviously a fine warrior. The blade is of a steel that comes only from Hispania.'
    'He was a great warrior; he killed six men on the day I was born.'
    'Six? Truly skilled. And he was a Saxon?' 'I do not know. He died that day and I was raised by ... by a friend.' Grysstha's face leapt to Corm-ac's mind and for the first time since his death tears flowed. The